#am i jerry here? oh my god

[fantasticalleigh]

my local postal clerk is the nicest guy and is very staunch on customers saying hello when they enter the post office as a principle of making it really feel like a neighborhood and he's so right and i always greet him when/if i approach the counter but mostly i go inside super fast to drop packages off and it goes against my entire being to walk into any place and announce "hello!" while people are focused on their own thing and i hope he doesn't think i'm cold or snobby but i do smile though. like i'll smile at all the clerks if they look up and i feel that should count because i genuinely appreciate what they do but they're usually busy when i walk in and attending to customers and i feel it's just so rude to walk in and say "hello!" when they're talking to someone else

[carmenberzattosgf]

Can you recommend any other writers for carmy? I love your blurbs so much and I’ve gone through them all so quickly 💔

*cracks knuckles* okay let’s roll.

@thecapricunt1616 capri writes such good Carmy one shots! And the smut 🧎🏼‍♀️ WHEW. also dad Carmy which always makes me weak. ( I could yap about how much I love capri but imma stop myself)

@gallaghersgal literally such good blurbs for Carmy ( and lip) that make me scream

@wtfsteveharrington I fear I cannot accurately explain how feral her works make me. I love her stuff! ( and the things she’s planning? Oh god help me)

@hrts4carmy this is my bestie from my main blog right here! The smut she writes—it’s so filthy it sends me to my KNEES.

@buzzcutlip they have a new fic out that’s going to be 3 chapters and I’ve already ate up the first chapter and it’s SO good and well written!

@juuuulez if you’re a sub Carmy truther this is the account for you! Also in general just *chefs kiss* work

@l4long-winded UGH she NAILS Carmy characterization so well! And her lip works too! Her fics leave me clawing at the walls of my enclosure

@carmenized-onions right now they are writing the most AMAZING long form chapter fic for Carmy. Go read it asap you will not regret it

@faerygrant the breeding blurbs? Life changing. That’s all I can say I fear GRAH

@superhoeva EVERYTHING SLAYS. Like such a good writer!!!

@daysofyellowroses she’s been on a bit of a writing break recently but I cannot leave her out because her stuff is just GRAH. ( also happy birthday lovely!)

@carmyboobear the stuff they write— cannot put into words how good it is. Both of their series make me SCREAM and the one shots?? BYE.

@junabyclairo such cute works I love seeing their stuff on my dash

Okay now imma just @ some people that I’ve noticed slaying recently!! @love-quinn @yxtkiwiyxt @mouseymilkovich @aestheticaltcow ( Elmo and Jerry are besties) @writers-hes @murdrdocs @heartsofminds

I already know I’ve forgotten people I AM SO SORRY IF I LEFT YOU OUT. But all of these people write such such good works go check them out!

[sissylittlefeather]

If I Can Dream: Chapter 2

A/N: I am so flattered by all the comments on Chapter 1! Seriously, y'all made my life with your kindness! I'm so glad there are other people who love Jo and 1975 Elvis as much as I do. I hope this one continues to live up to expectations! Keep the comments coming!

Need to catch up? Masterlist here.

Summary: It's 1975 and Jo Bellamy has been in love with Elvis for 20 years. She doesn't even care that they haven't met yet. All she needs is a chance and she's determined to get one.

But Elvis doesn't feel much like Elvis anymore. What happened to the man he used to be? He's pretty sure he's long gone.

Can a chance encounter with Jo change the ill-fated trajectory of his life?

Warnings: This will have smut, so minors stay away, but this chapter is all fluff/minor angst. Elvis gets mad and Jo is a bit triggered by it. Oh and Elvis takes pills again.

Word count: ~2.4k

Jo gets back in her car, rubbing her hands together for warmth, and says a silent prayer that Elvis will call.

******

Elvis wanders around the house aimlessly, trying not to wake anyone else up. He decides to take a peek at the cameras down at the gate to make sure everything is quiet. When he looks, though, he sees a girl standing there with her hand on the gate. She seems vaguely familiar, but he can't really see her face and she's bundled in a hat, coat, and scarf. He watches as she stands there for a bit and then walks away. Sighing deeply, he watches for a couple more minutes and then decides she must be gone. But just as he goes to turn away, she's back with something in her arms.

“What the hell?” He whispers as she starts trying to throw them over the gate. A chuckle escapes him as she misses a few times and has to walk further down the wall. Then, it dawns on him what she's throwing: paper airplanes. He watches as she throws the last one, rubbing her hands together and walking away. Then, his curiosity gets the best of him and he goes to Jerry's door, knocking. “Jer! Hey Jer, you up?”

Jerry takes a while to come to the door and Elvis knocks impatiently. Finally, he opens the door, his hair a mess and his eyes bleary with sleep.

“What is it, boss?”

“I need you to do somethin' for me.”

“Right now?” Jerry looks around for a clock to tell him what time it is.

“Yes, now. Get dressed.” Elvis turns and walks away and Jerry grabs some pants and shoes and follows him.

At the front door, Elvis explains what he wants Jerry to do.

“Just go out and get the airplanes?” Jerry raises his eyebrows. This seems like a simple task.

“Yes. And bring them to me.”

“You couldn't do this yourself?” Elvis smiles slyly.

“It's cold out there.” Jerry rolls his eyes and walks out the front door down to the wall. He picks up all of the notes and heads back up the driveway. When he gets back to Elvis inside, he's shivering.

“You want me to read ‘em to you too?”

“No, that's all. Thanks Jerry. Goodnight.” He takes the airplanes from Jerry and walks back up the stairs, leaving the younger man shaking his head and trying to warm his hands up.

Back in his bedroom, Elvis plops onto the giant bed and opens one of the airplanes. His heart stops when he reads it. He quickly opens all the others to find the same thing written on them. Without a thought, he grabs one and walks to the phone on his nightstand, sitting on the bed next to it with the receiver pressed to his ear. He dials the number quickly and waits as it rings.

Jo is in bed, wide awake, when the phone rings. She looks at the clock on the wall and picks it up tentatively.

“Hello?”

“Hi…” Elvis looks at the name on the note. “Jo? It's-”

“Elvis?!” She has to work hard to keep from screaming it into the phone.

“Yeah, honey. I got your airplanes.”

“Oh my god. You did?”

“Well, Jerry got them for me, but yes. How are ya?” Elvis is strangely nervous. His stomach flip-flops waiting for her response.

“I'm… I'm great, I guess. You know it's almost 3am?” She cringes a bit, knowing she shouldn't question this amazing situation, but she wouldn't be her if she wasn't a little sassy.

“Were ya sleepin’?”

“Um, no.”

“Didn’t think so. You live in Memphis or are you visiting?” The conversation continues as they move through the pleasantries into deeper topics. He can't believe how easy she is to talk to, how cute her little laugh is, how much he wishes she was actually there with him. It's been a long time since he's actually genuinely enjoyed a woman's company like this.

Jo is in heaven. This is everything she's ever dreamed of. The only thing that would make it better is being next to him. Still, she'll take what she can get. She's giggling at some story he's telling when she realizes the sun has started to come up.

“Elvis…”

“Yeah, honey?” She tries not to melt when he calls her honey.

“The sun is coming up.” He looks at the window and chuckles, sunlight creeping in under the blackout curtains

“Well, I'll be damned.”

“I have to be at work soon.” Jo twirls the phone cord in her finger, wondering if she'll ever hear from him again if she hangs up.

Elvis doesn't want to stop talking to her, afraid this spell will be broken if he ends the call.

“Why don'tcha play hooky today and come to my house?” Jo’s heart skips and Elvis can't believe what he's said. Why on earth would he invite her over to his house?! He's been up all night and needs to sleep. For a half second, the thought that he'd like to sleep next to her enters his head, but he gets rid of it as quick as it came. As young and pretty as she is, she'd expect more than just sleeping and he's not sure he'd be capable of that today.

“Oh, umm, I'd love to, but I really need to go to work. If I miss again they'll fire me.” He breathes a sigh of relief that she's not coming over immediately, but he still wants to see her.

“How about after? What time are you done?”

“I work until 4. You really want me to come over?” He thinks for a second and then the answer just comes tumbling out.

“Yeah, I really do.”

******

Jo is filled with a kind of nervous excitement all day long that keeps her awake. She's running on pure adrenaline and caffeine, so when the clock strikes 4:00, she's out the door in a heartbeat. She slaps her cheeks as she drives to Graceland trying to stay awake and before she knows it, she's knocking on the front door. Jerry answers and leads her into the foyer.

“Come on in. He's, um, in with the Colonel, but he told us you were coming.” He gestures for her to sit on the couch in the living room. She perches on the edge, careful not to get too comfortable for fear of falling asleep.

Just as she starts to doze, she hears a door slam upstairs and the Colonel comes down the stairs and walks straight out through the front. She hears another crash and it sounds like Elvis has broken something. She stands up instinctively and sees Jerry in the dining room, motioning for her to stay where she is. Elvis stomps down into the foyer and starts yelling to Jerry about whatever he's angry about. Jo isn't sure what to do, so she looks at the door and starts to walk towards it slowly. Maybe she should just get out of here…

“No! Jo, don't leave.” She turns and Elvis is close to her, still breathing heavily from his fight with the Colonel. His hair is fluffy like he's run his hands through it a hundred times.

“I just… I'm exhausted Elvis and you're obviously upset-”

“I'm fine!” He yells at her and she flinches. When she opens her eyes there's a fire in them that makes Elvis step back a little.

“Do not yell at me. I have not done anything to you. I grew up with a man yelling at me for things that weren't my fault and I'm not going to let you do it. I don't care if you are Elvis fucking Presley.” Jerry's eyebrows practically hit his hairline and he crosses his arms, waiting to see how Elvis will respond. Elvis is absolutely floored. No woman has ever talked to him that way. His mouth hangs open as he tries to figure out what he should say. She turns away from him back to the door and he finally speaks.

“Wait, please. Please stay.” He's careful to keep his voice even and quiet, so she doesn't think he's yelling again. Stopping, she lowers her head and breathes deeply. “I just have one more phone call with the recording studio and then I'm all yours. Please.”

Jo turns slowly and sees the pleading desperation in his eyes. She couldn't leave now even if she wanted to.

“Okay. I'll stay.” Elvis smiles, obviously relieved.

“Come on, you can wait down here.” He holds her elbow and leads her down the stairs to the TV room. Jo takes one look at the plush couch and smiles nervously. “I'll be back in just a minute. It'll be quick; I promise.”

She tries to perch on the edge again, but it's so soft and inviting that not long after he leaves, she's asleep. When he comes back down about fifteen minutes later, he finds her with her shoes off, snuggled on the couch sleeping soundly. He chuckles when he remembers that she stayed up all night and then went to work while he slept. She really is something else.

There's just enough room between her head and the corner of the couch for him to sit, so he positions himself there, careful not to touch or disturb her in any way. He clicks the TVs on and turns the volume down, looking down at her while she sleeps. With her haircut and big eyes, she's like a little fairy. He runs his fingertip down the side of her cheek gently and is overwhelmed with the desire to lean over and kiss her, but he doesn't.

Despite sleeping all morning, he's tired too, and before too long he's passed out as well. Without thinking, he snuggles into the corner and puts his legs up on the couch next to her, not even conscious of how close this makes them. She stirs a little when he does and groggily lifts her head, moving her body up to be in the crook of his arm. Neither of them is really aware of what's happening, but they cuddle there on the couch sleeping for the better part of three hours. At one point Jerry comes downstairs and smiles at the scene. It's been awhile since he's seen his boss this comfortable with someone new.

Jo’s stomach is the one that wakes her up. She worked through lunch, so she's starving. It rumbles and she opens her eyes sleepily. For a second, she has no idea where she is or who this man is that she's laying with. She sits up so quickly that it wakes Elvis up too.

“You're awake.” He stretches and pulls her back down against his chest.

“You're Elvis Presley.” His chest rumbles with a chuckle and she smiles.

“That I am, honey.”

“I'm sorry; I didn't mean to fall asleep.” This position is so habitual that he presses his lips to her forehead without thinking and mumbles.

“It's okay. I know you were up all night talkin’ with some old fool.” His hand runs up and down her arm as they talk.

“Yeah, my favorite old fool on the planet. And besides, you're not that much older than me.” He scoffs.

“Honey, do you know how old I am?”

“I've been a fan of yours since 1955. I know how old you are. I'm 36.” His hand freezes and he looks down at her. He would've sworn she was in her mid 20s.

“Are ya really, honey?” She nods against him.

“You wanna see an ID?”

“Nah, I trust ya, I'm just surprised. You look a lot younger.” For the first time since he called, Jo starts to doubt herself.

“Is it a problem?” She sits up and looks down at him where he shakes his head nervously.

“No! No. Women don't have expiration dates.” They look at each other for a minute, both of them wondering what it would feel like to press their lips against the other’s. Jo’s stomach growls again and breaks them out of their trance. “We need dinner. Come on.”

They peel themselves off the couch and go upstairs. Elvis arranges dinner for them and they eat together in the dining room, laughing and talking through the whole thing. At the end of the night, Elvis is dying to ask her to stay, but he's still afraid of what her expectations might be. She's a grown woman, not a girl, and he doesn't want to disappoint her. Instead, he takes her hand and kisses the back of it gently.

“Goodnight, Jo.”

“Goodnight, Elvis.” She smiles up at him softly, wishing he would kiss her. “Will I, um, will I see you again?”

Her heart flutters and she's afraid to even ask, but she has to know. This might've been a beautiful dream and nothing more.

Elvis hesitates for a second. He's reluctant to make any real promises, but he does want to see her again.

“Oh, well, Jo, um…” She shakes her head.

“It's okay. I shouldn't have asked. I'm just thankful for the 24 hours I got with you. G’night.” Before he can say anything else, she practically runs out the front door and down to her car. She doesn't want him to see that she's crying. Even though he's only known her for a day, she's known him for most of her life, and it hurts that he doesn't love her like she loves him. She knows it's an outrageous expectation, but some part of her thought that if she could just get to him, it would happen. So she cries all the way to her car and all the way back to her apartment and if she wasn't so tired, she probably would cry all night long.

Elvis watches her go and the full, heavy ache of loneliness settles in his chest again. But she's too grown up, too sure of herself, too much her own person. It would never work. And besides, when she really got to know who he is now, she'd leave like all the others. Best to save himself that heartache. He goes back in the house and up the stairs to bed, takes another handful of pills and calls it a night.

But he misses her in his arms, the big bed feeling cold and empty.

******

Will they see each other again?

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

Taglist:

@ccab @atleastpleasetelephone @aliypop @18lkpeters @dkayfixates @tacozebra051 @your-nanas-house @joshuntildawn13 @lookingforrainbows @60svintage @littlehoneyposts @epthedream69 @louisejoy86 @rjmartin11 @from-memphis-with-love @deltafalax @cinnamoroll-things @burnthheparaphilia @jhoneybees @cattcb @everythingelvispresley @returntopresley @searchingforgravity @msamarican @angschrof @lustnhim @polksaladava @librababe99 @hooked-on-elvis @theelvisprincess @makethemorning @peaceloveelvis @mrspresley69 @pxpresley

[loversofthegrave]

What are some of your fave wincest fics?

Oh I'm so glad you asked anon! I am always looking for fic recs so I'm sure some followers will appreciate this little one here;

(in no particular order)

try asking by applecrumbledore

“Jerry says he saw them going at it in the back of that car of theirs outside Atlanta last year, I swear to God.”

“Listen, man, I don’t like them either, but that’s a low blow. Jerry’s a fucking pervert.”

outside POV ftw

other brothers by homo_pink

A callow boy can go from infancy to someone’s lover in the space of two wildflower summers.

Another outside POV but this writer I kneel at the altar for, absolute perfection. Read all their work, you're in for a treat

Howls in my bones by weefaol

When John gets a call to investigate a series of grisly animal killings, he drops Sam and Dean at an abandoned cabin two towns over. The boys find ways to keep busy — playing cards, watching movies, chopping wood — but with a howling winter storm on the way, there’s nowhere for Sam to hide his illicit feelings for his older brother.

As the lure of desire threatens to devour him, Sam must learn to face the wolves that lurk outside and the monsters within.

weecest

In the garden where sin began by nyoka

Some places, they grow for you.

weecest, beautifully written, so tender

one on, two out by deadlybride

In the fall of 2001, Deacon gets a letter from his old friend John Winchester, asking if John's son can stay at his house for a while.

not exactly wincest but I want to recommend this because it's just a great insight into a young dean and his vulnerability and there's a sequel involving wincest elements. Really really loved this

it started out with a kiss by intrepidheart

Sam has a date. That's not the problem. The problem is that Sam's asking Dean to teach him how to kiss. The problem is that this kiss changes everything.

rightly obsessed with jealous dean

the repeated image of the lover destroyed by hathfrozen

"Do you really love me that much?" Sam asks.

Dean laughs, a harsh sound, his body shaking underneath Sam.

"Look at me," Dean hisses, eyes still shut. "What the fuck do you think?"

see things so much clearer by deadlybride

Sam's been acting oddly. Dean learns how to use the history on an internet browser and finds out why.

somewhere there's blue by linden

Dean was just gonna go ahead and call this one: evenings which ended with Sam in a river were not evenings which had gone too well.

nickle and dime by linden

It was unlikely, Dean felt, that they'd be coming back to Montana: Child Protection Services had a real nasty habit of not forgetting people's names.

here's a few for now, I have more but I need to remember the names! I will probably reblog this with them but I hope you enjoy! Also if anyone has any recs please point me in that direction

much love

[florawrites-blog]

The shift - Sim Jaeyun

Its thanksgiving but here you are stuck in a 24/7 shift with jake a guy whom you could swear you had no idea he worked in the same grocery shop you work in but lets go i guess .

I lowkey yapped here but enjoy lads

Thanksgiving night at Jerry’s All-Night Groceries wasn’t supposed to be exciting. It was supposed to be the dull kind of shift where you rang up frozen turkeys, boxed mashed potatoes, and watched sleep-deprived shoppers scuffle for canned cranberry sauce. But the moment you stepped inside the store and saw your supervisor, Jerry, glaring at his nemesis Martha like she’d stolen his parking spot, you knew this night would be different.

“Congratulations, you lucky ducks,” Jerry barked, gesturing to you and some guy you’d never seen before. “You two are hosting tonight’s 24-hour shift!”

Martha smirked. “Try not to cry about it, kiddos.”

The guy—tall, brown hair slightly tousled, an aura of “I’m too cool for this”—stood next to you with the same amount of confusion. You exchanged a glance, one that said Can you believe this garbage? Then, without much protest (because arguing with Jerry and Martha was like yelling at a brick wall), you accepted your fate.

For the first couple of hours, it was painfully mundane. The cashier beeped endlessly as shoppers stockpiled boxed meals and vaguely Thanksgiving-related knickknacks. You were zoning out, staring at a stack of pumpkin pies, when the guy spoke.

“So, you didn’t even know I worked here?” His voice was teasing, light, and caught you off guard.

You snorted. “I didn’t even know you existed until now.”

“Figures,” he replied with a smirk. “But I’ve had the pleasure of meeting you before.”

Your brow furrowed. “Wait, what? When?”

He chuckled darkly. “The day you flipped me off and called me a ‘vision-impaired asshole.’”

Your jaw dropped. “WHAT?! That’s a lie! I would never—” Then, like a lightning bolt, it hit you: Oh my god, I DID do that.

“Wait, no, no! You were staring at me for like 20 minutes straight! Of course, I thought you were some creepy weirdo!”

“I am that ‘creepy weirdo,’” he confirmed, ringing up a turkey for a confused customer. “But to be fair, you ignored me after I asked you a question. For 20 minutes.”

The customer looked between the two of you, clearly regretting every life choice that had led them here. You waved it off. “Okay, in my defense, I didn’t hear you ask anything, so yeah, you were creepy!”

From there, the ice was broken. Somehow, amidst the holiday chaos, you and Jake—the guy you didn’t even know worked here—were swapping sarcastic barbs like old friends.

In the phone section, Jake was snapping selfies like his life depended on it.

“Dude, you know we’re not supposed to do that, right?”

He shrugged, moving on to the next display. “So what? If customers can do it, why can’t I? Racist, don’t you think?”

“What does race have to do with this?” you groaned, watching as he switched from Androids to iPads.

“Whatever. Anyway, I look good. Imagine someone opens the camera roll and finds my face. They’ll fall in love instantly.”

You rolled your eyes. “Sure, heartthrob. Let’s hope that’s the legacy you leave behind.”

Jake smirked. “Speaking of heartthrobs… let me guess. You were the teacher’s pet in high school, the kind of nerd who snitched on jocks for smoking in the bathroom.”

“Wow, rude AND oddly specific,” you shot back. “And no, I wasn’t a snitch! I just… knew things. And okay, maybe teachers liked me. But only because I wasn’t annoying like some people.”

“Uh-huh. Sure.”

Jake wasn’t done being ridiculous. He led you to the bike section with a mischievous grin.

“Okay, here’s the deal,” he said, dragging you to a shiny red bike. “You’re learning how to ride.”

“I know how to ride a bike!”

“you quite literally mentioned how bad you are at riding bikes”

“yeah i said I’m bad didn’t say I can’t ride a bike”

“Can you ride a bike without training wheels and streamers?”

“…I hate you.”

Despite your protests, Jake was determined. He adjusted the seat, held the handlebars, and made sure you were balanced. His hands hovered at your waist as you wobbled.

“See? You’re doing fine!”

And then… crash.

You went down, dragging a row of bikes with you. From the security room, Andy the security guard was laughing his balls of knowing he caused this incident by playing “Careless Whisper” on the PA, after seeing how close you and Jake were getting as he taught you how to ride that bike . Jake, however, didn’t laugh. He immediately scooped you up, piggyback-style, and carried you to the first aid aisle.

“You LOSER YOU SAID YOU’D HOLD ME AND NOT MAKING ME FALL,” you muttered loudly as he patched you up.

“Sorry I’m so so sorry , but hey you rode a bike,” he replied with a grin.

The rest of the night blurred into something magical. You shared snacks in the camping aisle, played with Bluetooth speakers, and even danced a little when the store was empty. Jake told scary stories (badly), and you made bets on which customer would complain about prices first.

you also grew this weird yet undeniable tension between you guys that made it hard for both of you to face each other

But as the shift neared its end, Jake grew quieter.

“This is my last shift,” he said suddenly.

You froze. “What? Why?”

“I’m leaving town. Taking a train, starting over in a new city with some friends. We’re gonna try to start a band.”

Your heart sank. “You’re serious?”

“Yeah. But you should come with me.”

You laughed, but there was a lump in your throat. “You’re crazy, Jake.”

“Maybe. But think about it.”

you’ve spent few hours speaking about this he even discussed some of his “runaway” plans , and even after sometime passed Jake kept on bringing back the idea of you coming with him which is funny cause why’d he assume you have nothing to do here (you literally didn’t you only took this job to kill time while you had a job search) but it just happened so that it annoys you how he thinks that you have nothing to do here also it’s not like you guys were long time friends or anything so why’d he just ask you to accompany him right?

When the shift ended, Jake walked you to the entrance.

“So… I guess this is goodbye, huh?”

“Yeah.”

“Don’t worry I won’t forget you when I’m famous,” he teased.

“Who are you again?” you shot back, smiling through the ache in your chest. All jokes aside you guys knew you were seriously at the end of the shift when Jerry and Martha both came in looking at you like the first thing they had a whiff of was fart.

As he walked away, you felt tugging at your chest like you knew you didn’t know him for long but cmon how come you see him today for what’s technically not the first time and now you have to say goodbye to him I mean it should be easy but it wasn’t .

But it wasn’t your case only cause as he got close to his car something pulled at him. He turned back, ran to you, and both of you now stood infront of each other his eyes went over your whole figure and just by then out of nowhere he hugged you tight.

“Can’t leave without a goodbye hug, can I?”

“bye bye, jakey jakey”

And just like that, it was goodbye he was actually gone, pedaling into the early morning.

You stood there for a moment, staring after him. Somewhere, Jake was probably cursing himself.

“Shit. I didn’t get her number.”

[batfambrainrotbeloved]

happy birthday! As a birthday gift I did some color by numbers for you (because I can’t draw). It is 1 am so there was no way I would have accomplished 20, and I’m extremely superstitious so the day of your birth (3+10) would not have worked. So I added 1! i only did a tiny bit of stalking i swear

Here they are:

Some explanations:

It’s your birthday

Capricorn

Jerry

Wisp

I call this one Timothy jr. he’s a snob.

you seem to like tea

youre a writer

she/they pronouns, so you’re a form of nonbinary

Batman!

they didn’t have a Duke one so I found a different signal

birds (and you said you like the color blue)

you made a fic with the ship rose killer, so here’s a blood red rose

Harry potter

minecraft

happy birth anniversary. i am exhausted. have a nice day.

Oh my G O D- This is- insane?? But like in a pos way- but also a "Oh fuck im being percieved which is wild to me"

1.AWW YIPPEEE!!! 2. A lil goat- I love 3. My mischif filled lil raccoon- I fucking love him. 4. MY GIRLLL 5. Oh my god- fancy dapper pigeon 6. I do!! Oolong being my fav of course (or peach) 7. OH MY G O D- ARE YOU IN MY WALLS!? HOW TF DID YOU KNOW!?!?!?!?!? /j 8. Technically yes id guess so lol and the flag is cute!! 9. BATMANNNNN 10. ITS STILL GOOD 11. I LOVE birds- humming birds are amazing as well (which that bird somewhat resembles) 12. Yes. (look im a sucker for mutually insane ships-) 13. My guilty pleasure fandom fr 14. My obsession.

Thank you so so much!! and please sleep my dear-

[missybee-writes]

Shadow in the Dark - Chapter Six: Halloween

Genre: Sci-fi; Romance; Horror

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

Pairing: Eddie Munson x Fem!OC

Sooo...how about a 20k word chapter? It may have slightly grown beyond my expectations. Hope you enjoy!

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

Chapter Four: Code Name, Farrah Fawcett

Chapter Five: Sleepover

Ao3 link

---

The nylon gown scratched at the bare skin of her chest, fluorescent lights burned her eyes and buzzed incessantly, and the dull symphony of bleeping monitors was close to driving her to madness. Eyes closed, she could easily be back in Great Ormond Street Hospital with the brightly painted walls, or the view of the British Museum’s roof from her window. Hawkins Memorial was small, the smells and sights were different. And when Rose looked to her left, instead of her friend Elaine in her oxygen mask smothered in colourful boy band stickers pulled from the pages of magazines, there was only her Mum, sitting in a narrow armchair, picking at her the red-raw beds of her nails and stewing in a tense misery. Perhaps hospitals wore on Mum even more than they did Rose. After all, she’d lost Rose’s dad in an accident and seen her only child seriously ill within a year. No wonder Mum looked peaky just being back in here, washed out and pale under the hostile lighting.

The bleeping and rhythmic line moving up and down on the screen was steady, like the slow beat of Lars Ulrich on the drums in one of the songs on Eddie’s mixtape, Fade to Black. It must have pleased Dr Bateman, for he scratched his moustache and nodded, scribbling down something in Rose’s file.

“Alrighty then,” he said, clicking his pen and putting it back in his white coat pocket. “Mr McAllister, your daughter’s heart seems to be functioning well.”

Jerry looked from Rose to her mum nervously. “Oh, I’m just her stepfather, no need to t-”

“So I see no cause for concern,” the doctor continued, not even giving Rose or her agitated mother a glance. “If there are any significant changes then have her come in, but otherwise we’ll repeat the ECG in three months and go from there. Make sure she keeps up with her meds in the meantime. Okay?”

Jerry was flustered. “Um..oh, I guess. Does that mean there’s no risk of anything going...you know...wrong?”

Her mum swallowed hard and looked away, and Rose could see she’d made fingers bleed from picking at them.

“Well,” Dr Bateman said slowly. “There’s always a chance that complications can occur down the line. But more than likely, she’ll be-”

“Eighty-twenty, isn't it doc.” Rose didn’t try to hide the disdain she felt at saying it out loud. “There is an eighty percent chance I’ll be just the same as anyone else and keep going as I am, but a twenty percent chance that I’ll develop heart failure at any time in the future.” 

The doctor grunted. “Like I said, more than likely she’ll be normal.”

“Oh good, you can hear me,” Rose exaggerated her smile. “I was beginning to think I may be invisible. Tell me, if we played Russian roulette right now, and I held a gun to your head, would you be happy with a twenty percent chance of a bullet in the chamber? One in five?”

“No need to be smart now,” his lip stiffened, moustache trembling.

Of course. Smart mouths were somehow more acceptable when you didn’t have tits. God forbid a woman talk back. She took a deep breath and looked at the charts by his side. “Aside from regularity, were you able to hear any sluggish murmurs that might mean endocarditis? No? In that case, be a dear and fetch Dr Abrams from neurology, so he can carry out the electroencephalogram and I can get out of here as quickly as bloody possible.”

The doctor’s face was thunder, he gave Jerry a pissed-off look and turned on his heel and left the small room, shiny shoes tapping on the linoleum, at least a hundred beats per minute. 

“What an unpleasant man,” her mum said. “But I do wish you wouldn’t antagonise the medical staff, Rose. If something should ever happen, it’s them who...who’ll...oh gosh, i’m feeling dizzy. I should sit down.”

Jerry held her mum’s shoulders gently. “Honey, you’re already sat down.”

Her brows drew together like she was startled. “Am I? How silly of me. It’s alright, I just haven’t been sleeping very well.”

Rose, now free of all the wires attached to her chest, swung her legs off the rickety hospital bed. “It’s not more nightmares, is it?”

“No...well, just a few.”

“Shirley,” Jerry said. “I think you should see someone about that. The Department of Energy has in-house doctors for all sorts of things, without even going through insurance. Maybe I can make an appointment with a therapist.”

That was it, her mother laughed, dropping her purse onto the floor. “Therapy, Jerry? Nonsense, I am not mentally ill. It must be all the wires and the pipes in the house, you can’t go five minutes in that house without being woken up by clanking and buzzing. I don’t need a therapist, I need a plumber!”

Another doctor burst in, an older, kooky-looking gentleman with bushy white hair and round glasses, like a smiling Einstein. 

“Dr Abrams, at your service,” he nodded toward Rose. “My colleague is as wound up as a teakettle, steam coming right out his ears. Do I have you to thank for that, Miss McAllister?”

She nodded.

“You must tell me your secret. That man’s as grouchy as a possum eating scraps from a dumpster.”

Rose smiled, immediately put at ease. “I don’t believe I've seen a possum before, but I’ll take your word for it.”

Two nurses dragged another machine, this one with an intricate web of wires, each ending in a sensor. But unlike the little sensors that had been taped to her chest, these were attached together in the snape of a cap.

He looked over the rim of his glasses as the nurse held out the cap. “I would explain the EEG to you, but I don’t think this is your first rodeo, is it Miss McAllister?”

Rose tucked her hair out the way and flattened the waves alongside her head as much as possible. “No it’s not.”

The nurses attached the sensors all over her head, as close-fitting as a swimming cap and stretching from her forehead to the nape of her neck. The machine came to life, and she sat still for a long time as they fiddled with the monitor screen and dials and knobs beneath.

Dr Abrams read through her file as the machine did its thing, and Rose stayed still. “So two years since the surgery and your cardiac arrest. Dr Bateman’s tests look good, no issues identified with your heart right now. I see the hospital in England kept you in for a lot of neurological testing after the resuscitation. Are you having any memory issues?”

“Nope.”

“Any unusual changes in your temper, sudden mood swings?”

“Define unusual,” her mum snickered, and the doctor’s mouth turned up into a smile. 

“From your mother’s reaction, I'll take that as nothing abnormal for a teenager. See, I find this a little odd. Three minutes is a long time for inactivity of the brain, permanent damage becomes very likely.”

Rose shrugged. “So they keep telling me. But I don’t feel any different than before, doctor. Except for this lovely scar.”

“Three minutes...” mum trailed off, her voice numb and distant. “They told me something was wrong, and the doctors had begun resuscitation. The nurses in the waiting room said anything beyond ten minutes meant no chance of recovery...I would have sworn that the cup of tea they shoved into my hand went cold whilst I waited, and I saw them look at their watches and shake their heads when they thought I wasn’t looking. But then the doctor came out to tell me you were actually alive after all. It might have been three minutes, but...it’s like Wordsworth’s poem, isn’t it...to see a world in a grain of sand and a heaven in a wild flower, hold infinity in the palm of your hand and eternity in an hour. God knows it felt like an eternity to me.”

Rose wasn’t supposed to move her head, in case she disturbed the sensors, but she couldn’t help looking at her mum’s haunted face. No wonder she had nightmares.

“Waiting is the worst, isn’t it. It’s so difficult to go out there to a patient’s family, when something hasn’t gone the way you’d hoped.” Dr Abrams cleared his throat and looked back at the monitor, humming and holding his chin. “Well, isn’t this curious? Your brain activity looks a little different to me, maybe the sensor isn’t picking up the signals properly.”

Rose sighed. “They said that in Great Ormond Street. You can try again, but it won’t work. They said it must be a unique neurological dysfunction. Just can’t see properly into my head.”

“That’s how we met, actually,” Jerry squeezed her mum’s shoulder fondly. “They needed an electrical engineer to test their power room and some of their equipment as they thought it was faulty. I’d just left the Department for Energy and moved over, you see. So they sent me to take a look at the machine and I found Shirley in the parent’s waiting room.”

“He lingered about in that room for so long I thought he was another parent,” her mum said td. “I was always so nervous in those places, I didn’t even notice he was in overalls and had a toolbelt on!”

They really were an odd couple. Her mother had the outward appearance of a modest woman, but underneath was tough and sharp as steel. Rose’s father had been more easy to laugh and outgoing, with the kind of magnetic personality people were often drawn to, life of the party, pint in hand, cigarette in the other, always surrounded by his friends. Her mum and dad had been opposites that attracted, sparks flying, but with Jerry it was more of a...fizzle. Rose wouldn’t want something that passionless, but then perhaps nice and placid were qualities her mother valued after years of stress. 

“How odd,” the doctor said, looking at the monitor. “I might have to make a call to your old doctor in London. You know what, I have a colleague in Pennhurst who would jump at the chance to examine these results. Maybe even run your interesting brain through a test or two. If you don’t object, I could send him these results for investigation.”

“Pennhurst,” Jerry frowned. “Isn’t that the nuthouse in Kerley County?”

“Pennhurst is a mental hospital, yes,” Dr Abrams said evenly. “But it’s also an esteemed research facility, with a focus on all aspects of the human mind, from the behavioural to the biological. The warden Dr Hatch has a particular interest in neurological conditions, as well as psychology.”

“I don’t know,” her mother said. “Those places are for psychopaths, aren’t they? I don’t think that sounds like a good idea.”

Rose cleared her throat loudly, drawing their attention. “Well isn’t it a good job that i’m a legal adult, with full bodily autonomy. If I want to send my scans to a psychologist, then I’ll do it.”

Mum pouted. “I’m only looking out for you, Rosebud.” 

In her eyes, Rose was still thirteen, sickly, and fragile. Not a legal adult who’d been through more than most people her age, perfectly capable of making decisions about her future. It felt like an oppressive kind of love to Rose, one that itched even more than the nylon hospital gown. But whilst she lived under her mum and step dad's roof, she felt almost...powerless. Toothless. Neutered. Okay, perhaps not neutered, goodness knows she was more and more aware of the raging desires burning through her, particularly since she met a certain someone who should not be named. But losing a year of school and living with your mother at soon-to-be nineteen was exhausting.

“Fine,” Rose said, the fight draining right out of her. “Not now. But perhaps next time.”

---

All the way home Rose stared out the window, wiping the fog from the glass with her sleeve, humming a tune that had been stuck in her head for weeks. She couldn’t remember where she’d heard it first, but it wouldn’t go away. Da da-da da-da daaa-dum, da-

“Boy, a whole Monday off school,” Jerry said from the driver’s seat. “I know hospital’s aren’t fun, but that’s a bonus, eh? Four day week sounds nice to me.”

“I guess so,” Rose leaned against the steamed-up window, October rolling slowly into chilly, foggy weather. 

Mum caught her eye in the rearview mirror. “More time to sleep off that hangover too.”

“Oh god, not again.”

“I’m all for you bringing friends over to the house, but did you have to get quite so drunk? And on the old playground too? Robin might need a tetanus shot after your shenanigans on the rocket ship.”

Rose’s head throbbed at the memory of her, Robin and Steve climbing into the big climbing frame shaped like a rocket ship after a few too many fruity cocktails, singing Life on Mars at the top of their lungs. Robin had scratched herself on a loose screw, so they had to cut their excursion short and return home, clattering in the kitchen at 2am to find a band-aid and some rubbing alcohol. 

Sunday morning had been hell, but hell was far more fun when you had company. The three of them had hunkered down under a mountain of blankets in her room, nibbling on crackers and sipping ginger ale, until they felt more human again, and Robin was able to return home without alerting her parents to the fact that she’d been drunk.

The very same playground whizzed by the window now, and they pulled into the driveway of 1050 Morehead, though no one in the town called it anything other than Creel House. As they got out of the car and her mother opened the door, she wondered for the first time who the Creel family truly were. What happened to them here? Why did the murder live on in the town’s memory almost thirty years later?

Mum stumbled as she entered the house, clutching her head. Rose leapt forward to help, but when her mother turned around, her face was pale as bone, a trickle of blood seeping from her nose.

“Shit,” Rose hissed.

“It’s nothing,” she said, unconvincingly.

Rose guided her into the kitchen, holding her arm. She’d surpassed her mother in height by the time she was twelve, and now she was startled at how fragile she felt. Mothers were supposed to be there, a constant, as large and warm as life. “Come on Mum, let’s get you cleaned up. I think you should go straight to the doctor, you’re not looking well.”

“It’s just my luck, isn’t it. I felt fine when we were in the hospital, surrounded by medical staff. But the moment I walk through this door...”

Rose ran a cloth under the tap and paused, staring at the swirling water. She had been fine. Tired, perhaps. But not ill. “Here you go,” she said, dabbing away the blood from her face. “Let me get you some painkillers.”

“I think we should take you to the family doctor,” Jerry intervened. “I know you don’t want a fuss, but we need to get you checked out. It’s either that, or we go right back to the hospital and into the ER.”

The threat of an emergency room perked her mother up. “Alright, family doctor it is.”

Jerry opened the front door and guided her out, looking back at Rose. “Are you okay to hold the fort, kiddo?”

Rose wanted to be there, to make sure her mother was well. But she knew deep down that having her child there would only lead to her mother putting on a brave face, and she needed to be Shirley for once, not just mum. 

“Absolutely,” she forced herself to smile. “Won’t burn the place down. Cross my heart.”

The door closed and Rose was left in the grant house, alone. Once the car’s engine faded outside, the silence was a muffled, oppressive thing, making her ears ring. But after a while the tap dripped, boards somewhere creaked, and the place felt almost...alive. 

Alone at home for the first time in...well, possibly ever, Rose looked at the high ceilings, walnut-panelled Victorian interior, and felt what everyone else felt when they looked at the place. Fear. She had no idea where the murders took place or of their nature. Was it here in the kitchen, or were people slaughtered as they slept in their beds upstairs? Did they go quickly, or...or were the walls of this place witness to unimaginable pain and terror? Had there been blood, did it seep into the floorboards? Was it there still, after all these years?

The hairs on the back of her neck stood on end and she overcome with the need to be outside. She grabbed a book from the living room table and went out onto the porch, taking refuge on the loveseat by the front door, the walls of the house a thin barrier between Rose and the imagined horrors that lay within.

The leather bindings of the old book bit into her skin. Wuthering Heights. Oh great. She was stuck in the chilly October air without a jacket or even a cardigan, with an eerie gothic novel about lost love, paranoia and a windswept, menacing mansion out on the Yorkshire moors. Why couldn’t it have been Terry Pratchett or Douglas Adams, something to make her laugh?

By the time they arrived home, Rose peeled herself front he loveseat with numb fingers and listened intently to the insightful diagnosis from the family doctor: migraines. Take a tylenol and come back if it keeps happening. It made Rose feel powerless, and frustrated. 

Rather than face Jerry’s beige and very questionable attempts in the kitchen, she made their dinner, finding some peace in the repetitive task of chopping and cooking, layering lasagna sheets and sauce, watching the oven absentmindedly and waiting for an egg timer to go off.

“She’s asleep,” Jerry said, leaning against the doorframe. “But I’m sure your mom will love this when she wakes up.”

Rose could hold back no longer, she had to know. “I’ll heat some up whenever she needs it. I...I got to thinking when you were at the doctors. What happened in this house?”

“Oh, I’m not sure that’s a good idea, kiddo.”

“Maybe, but I’m not asking on a whim. I think I need to know.”

He was as placed and calm as ever, his smile not quite reaching his eyes. “It doesn’t matter. It’s just a floor, four walls, and a roof, like any other house. Look at the hospital we were in today, people die there every day. But it doesn’t make you scared, does it?”

Rose’s eyes narrowed, feeling oddly threatened by his dismissal. Jerry was never like this, he was a goofy idiot, but he was harmless. “Not knowing is worse. I’ll always be wondering and thinking about it, guessing which room, how it happened, or who was killed.”

He folded his arms. “I’m not going to tell you.”

“If you must be like that, then go ahead,” Rose said confidently. “But don’t forget I’m not a child...and I’m not your child.”

Most of the town knew of the Creel House and its backstory; if he wouldn’t tell her, she would find someone else to do it.

“No, you’re not,” Jerry said, masking whatever he was feeling with an impassive face. “Now if you’ll excuse me, I should go check on your mother and get some rest. I need to be at the plant by 5am tomorrow, before the night shift crew finish their shift. The Department’s facilities are having power issues, and we need to tighten the ship before it affects their research.“

In the two years since he arrived in her mother’s life, Rose had never seen him so petty, or act so strange. As she ate alone in the vast dining room, sitting cross-legged in the chair and staring out the tall window to the playground opposite, she felt a rush of hate for this grand, lofty space. 

It was her mother’s idea to move once Rose had the all clear and her health was back on track. With her and Jerry newly married, their little home was too small for the three of them. WIth Rose out of sync at school and her tentative friends all moved on to university or jobs, many of them moving from town, there was little left to cling onto.

Jerry was offered a promotion with the Department for Energy. When the house was sold, the exchange rate and expensive UK housing market compared to rural central Indiana somehow left them with way more than they’d expected. Enough for the real estate agent to sense her mother would fall in love with the Victorian gothic mansion that no one else would buy, at a dirt cheap price. 

It was strange, to have space, and for them as a family to have spare money. Rose’s father had been a dashing, red-haired Yorkshire coal miner whose love for life and taste for drink never stopped, despite the miner’s strikes putting him out of work in the 70s. He’d taken odd jobs, but there hadn’t been anything stable for years. Rose knew he’d not made life easy for her mother, and it hurt...it hurt whenever she thought of him, despite all the things people had said. All she had ever known was a father who told her stories, and always played games with her even when he was exhausted, when others would have said no. They danced and danced around their little living room listening to his beloved sixties and seventies rock, twirling her around until she was breathless and dizzy, laughing so much she thought she might burst. 

Yes, there had been shouting between her parents and more strife than she could really comprehend at a young age, but life without him was simply dull and colourless. She would rather live in her tiny, cramped two-bed terrace and have him back, than be here in this eerie mansion. But here she was. Eighteen and putting together the beginnings of a new life. Trying to find her tribe out in the world. And even if the house wasn’t home, she had a feeling the people who had become close to her over the last month might just be.

---

The week marchedon, despite missing school on Monday. A drumbeat of classes, American History more interesting than she’d anticipated, others like biology and math frighteningly dull and covering ground she’d already trodden before. The Hellfire guys waved her over at lunch as they always did, but something was...off. Eddie brooded at the head of the table, not engaging in conversation beyond his usual rants about the lack of creativity or personality in the curriculum.

But when Jeremy from the party kids clique turned up to school with a full-blown A Flock of Seagulls haircut - slicked down at the front with crispy, wing-like structures carefully constructed with a full can of hairspray - and Eddie didn’t even mention it? Jeremy who’d put him in detention for smoking in the boys bathroom only two weeks ago? Rose knew something was wrong. She put aside any weirdness she might feel after learning of his potted romantic history, more clear than ever that whilst there had been flirting in the beginning, nothing was truly going to happen between them, and tried to talk to him on Tuesday. But he was sullen and withdrawn, enough for Gareth, Gareth of all people, to tell him to snap out of it and apologise to Rose for being a dick.

On Thursday morning she was paired with Robin in Driver’s Ed, both of them horrifyingly clumsy and dangerous behind the wheel, creating an air of chaos and terror in the car that scared the instructor half to death. Rose couldn’t help it if she had difficulty remembering right from left, she’d always been that way, before the little brush with death.

She emerged on Friday in a great mood, her mum feeling better, the weather cool and crisp, and ready for another Hellfire session and pitting her fledgling necromancer against the Cult of Vecna, the very best part of her Friday’s. Yes, perhaps that was partly due to sitting by Eddie’s side for hours as he became the charismatic Dungeon Master, sweeping them up with his skillful narration, theatrical energy and passion for the game. Why shouldn’t it be? Friends enjoyed each other’s company, didn’t they?

Lunchtime rolled around, and with it came an air of anticipation. Maybe it was the impending session, or the cafeteria splurging out on pizza on a Friday, but there was a definite buzz in the air. Except for Rose, who yawned her way through it, half-listening to their banter.

“I’m telling you, man,” Eddie said confidently at the table’s head. “It’s happening. AD/DC are playing in Indy, Iron Maiden are coming to Evansville...I am going to find tickets if it kills me.”

“You have contacts, right?” Dustin lowered his head, and gave him a knowing look. “Like, people who get you things. Things that are...difficult to come by.”

Eddie scoffed. “Not the kind who sell concert tickets.”

Robin gasped in mock surprise and turned to Dustin. “Dusty bun, are you referring to...drugs? Or is this some kind of comic book thing that will go completely over my head?”

“Dusty bun?” Eddie paused with a slice of pizza inches from his mouth, surrounded by the older guys laughter. “Buckley, have you been holding out on me? Where’d that come from?”

“It’s so cute,” Robin began. “It comes from-”

“No,” Dustin threw his hands up. “Nope, I am not going through this again.”

Eddie’s pizza dropped on the tray, forgotten, and he leaned onto the table. “Oh come on, Dusty bun. No harm meant, man. Ignorant kids think up ignorant names. How else do you think I was dubbed Eddie the Freak?”

Lucas was too eager to spill. “Oh, this wasn’t thought up by a bully. That’s the cutesy nickname his girlfriend has for him. It’s barf-inducing at the best of times, especially when he calls her Suzie-poo. What is she, a poodle?”

Eddie was struck in the heart by cupid’s imaginary arrow, slumping back in his chair and holding his chest. Rose couldn’t stop her sleepy smile, completely charmed by the way he acted out his feelings, by the way he never reacted as people thought he would. She left less tired, and more energised as she watched.

“Love,” Eddie clutched the imaginary arrow in his chest. “Turns off all the rational thought in the brain. Enslaved by the sorcerer that is Cupid, made to do his bidding. Love makes you do the crazy, right?”

Rose’s smile died slowly as her mind kicked into gear. Which of his girlfriends was he thinking of when he monologued about love? Was it the record label girl from California? Was it Chrissy? As the table laughed over Eddie’s joke, she couldn’t help but feel fragile, and defensive on behalf of Dustin...or so she told herself.

“Not really,” she said out loud, without really thinking it through. Eddie looked to her straight away, big brown eyes so wide and deep she thought she’d drown in them, too difficult to look away from. She felt the whole table watching, though she couldn’t quite break away from his eyes, “I don’t think it’s crazy. I think it’s sweet.”

“See?” Dustin said. “This is why none of you have girlfriends, and I do. Girls like emotional vulnerability, and pet names are just one facet of that.”

“I have a girlfriend,” Mike added sullenly.

“And you’re always talking about her or writing her letters...didn’t you even give her the name El?”

Mike thought about it for a minute. “I suppose.”

Chris’ mouth was dropped open again. “Suzie-poo I get, but how do you go from Jane to El?”

“No reason,” Mike laughed nervously. “No reason at all, just thought it...suited her.”

Eddie snapped his fingers at his friend. “See, case-in-point. Who comes up with the nickname El for a girl named Jane? Chris is right, it’s weird. Hence, driven by the mushy, goo-brained beast that is love. Come on, Rose, back me up on this one. I bet your boyfriends have given you all kinds of mushy names.”

She sank lower in her chair, but there was no hope of disappearing. She thought of all the lovely things that came from Eddie’s mouth, the ‘Sweetheart’s’ and even the occasional ‘Princess’, or one memorable ‘baby’. She hoped it would feel like that, one day, if she ever found someone who actually liked her back. “I haven’t had any. Boyfriends, I mean, not pet names...aside from Mum calling me Rosebud. I can’t even blame it on being sick...I think I'm just too awkward. I put my foot in it with everyone I ever meet.”

Oh great. Eddie’s eyes widened even further. Stupid, charming doe-eyes, making her feel inadequate yet again. 

“You’re kidding, right? How is that even possible? You’re so...” he trailed off, chin propped on his hand. Their eyes were locked, all the noise in the room faded away, and she suddenly didn’t care what the end of the sentence was, as long as she could look at him like this forever.

Jeff prodded Eddie's arm, which made him snap to attention. “Rose. I mean, you’re so Rose. There’s no one else like you. I mean, kind and nice, and uh, one could say you were objectively pretty. You know, to some people, who are into that kind of thing.”

He was stumbling now, and the whole table knew it. Something weird happened to Dustin, whose face transformed from passive listening, to a little confusion with his brow puckered and head tilted to the side, and then his entire face lit up and mouth dropped open. Lucas casually elbowed him in the ribs and he hissed in pain, distracting everyone for a moment and giving Eddie and Rose a second to recover.

Robin nudged her knee under the table, and gave her a little nod, like she was about to save the day. What was it with prodding and jabbing today? Did everyone just wake up and decide on minor violence?

Robin began to speak. “Oh, don’t let her fool you. There was this one guy, right? Good kisser, kind of crazy about you, but-”

Rose kicked Robin’s foot, stopping her mid sentence. Yes, she’d told Robin all about Simon the Skinhead from the pub back home, but that entire fling was only fleeting, and it wasn’t the kind of story she wanted coming out at the lunch table. Besides, they’d only snogged a few times behind the back of the Nag’s Head, until both of his front teeth were knocked out in a bare knuckle boxing match. Rose liked to think she hadn’t stopped it just for that reason - she wasn’t superficial, though his smile was much harder to look at afterward - it was more that he’d fallen in with the wrong crowd. A dangerous one. And that was months before she’d left for America.

Robin shrugged and mouthed sorry, taking a big crunch of her apple as a blatant distraction, chewing slowly and avoiding eye contact. 

Great. Now the whole of Hellfire was awkward and silent. Or in Dustin, Mike and Lucas’ case, giving each other knowing looks and whispering, eyes still focused on Eddie and Rose.

Thankfully a hand emerged from nowhere, slapping down a pastel pink flyer on the empty space in the table’s centre, between Eddie’s Dr Pepper and Jeff’s lunch tray.

“It’s the end of the goddamn world,” Gareth announced loudly, stood behind the younger guys, his arm thrust between Dustin and Lucas’ heads. Rose flinched, Robin dropped the apple, and the younger guys squealed. 

“What the hell?” Jeff asked, snatching the flyer. “A Streetcar named Desire. Are you joining drama club now Gareth? Who are you gonna audition for, the sister? I knew all those Hellfire sessions playing the princess or the tavern wench would pay off eventually.”

“Fuck off, man,” he said defensively, dropping into his usual seat by Eddie, a bundle of ripped plaid, black denim, combat boots and attitude. “Just keep reading.”

Jeff mumbled to himself, until his face fell. “Oh man, oh no...how did we miss this?”

“I don’t know,” Gareth sighed. “But I stopped off at Ms Click’s class just to be sure. It’s happening tonight, for the next three weeks.”

Eddie had been staring blankly at the table, and sat up suddenly, ripping the flyer from Jeff’s hand. “You have got to be kidding me.”

“What is it?” Rose asked. “I can't take the suspense, what’s happening? Do we not like the works of Tennessee Williams? I have thoughts...he’s no Noël Coward, but his plays aren’t that bad.”

Eddie pinched the bridge of his nose. “The drama club needs the prop room until Thanksgiving, for rehearsals and the play itself. Goddamn it, all our stuff is there, the chair, my goblet...you know what I'm like without ambience, man. I can’t do Hellfire in Gareth’s garage again.”

Groans and curses echoed around the table, like it was indeed the end of the world. Rose and Robin exchanged a look of disbelief, but it was Mike who pointed his finger in the air and came to the rescue.

“My basement! We used to play D&D all day there in middle school. It’s dark and downstairs-”

“Duh,” Gareth mocked.

“Yeah, that might work,” Lucas added. “It’s kind of cosy. And Mrs Wheeler makes the best pizza rolls.”

Eddie gave him a scathing look. “I appreciate it, Wheeler, I really do. But didn’t you say your Mom is kind of uptight? Does she know you hang around with a bunch of scary, satan-worshipping seniors and Eddie the freak Munson?”

“She doesn’t exactly know,” Mike deflated, flopping onto the lunch table like he was suddenly removed of his spine. “And she wasn’t too happy about Nancy and I being involved in the whole mall fire thing; she grounded me until sophomore year, in theory at least.”

Eddie’s smile was bitter. “I don’t want to be the source of drama in suburbia, so we'll have to think again. I appreciate the offer though.”

Chris, silent thus far, closed his gaping mouth and added his own idea. “We could just steal the props we normally use and take Hellfire to another classroom for three weeks, couldn’t we?”

“They need the chair and table for the play,” Gareth said, crushing their hopes. “And I don’t think the classrooms will be up to our Dungeon Master’s exacting standards. Plus, they’re locked.”

The seed of an idea was blooming in Rose’s mind. She watched throw out a dozen different ideas and shoot them all down, and worked up the courage to add her own. “We could have Hellfire at my house.”

Eddie caught on first, attuned to her whenever she spoke, brows coming together in a frown. No one else had noticed.

Rose cleared her throat and tried again, louder. “I said, you could have Hellfire at my place. Everything inside is either crumbling apart, or properly restored to its former Victorian splendour. Lots of big fireplaces, candles, cobwebs...you know, the full haunted house experience.”

“It’s perfect,” Dustin said, beaming a great big smile. “Sounds even better than the drama room.”

Eddie hummed, toying with the ring on his right hand, the one with the black stone. “Won’t your parents be there?”

“I can ask them to go out for the day. Jerry’s been dying to visit this antique fair in Cartersville. It would be just us for most of the day. We could even do it on Halloween next Saturday, ” Rose gave him a meaningful stare, and did a dramatic gesture like she’d just remembered something. “Oh, that’s right, only if you actually can come inside. I know how selective you are about whose home you will come into...like a vampire without an invitation. Is it too scary for you, Munson?”

The tension crackled all the way across the table, everyone looking from left to right, waiting for him to respond. Eddie’s eyes were wickedly dark, even in the harsh cafeteria light. His smile was wicked too, teeth biting into his bottom lip, half way between a grimace and a grin. Touche, she thought. 

“There is very little that scares me, sweetheart,” he said evenly. “But I gather the house in question gets a lot of traffic these days, doesn’t it? Lots of people coming to and fro. Are you sure there is room for us lowly freaks next Saturday? Can you fit us into your busy social calendar?”

What the hell? Rose had no clue what he was even talking about. Eddie had left last Friday night, and she’d not seen him again until three days ago. 

“I won’t be coming, that’s for sure,” Robin interrupted, sensing the awkwardness. “Not that I am in Hellfire, or wanna play the dungeon game whatsoever. But I can’t look at your place without feeling sick, and the memory coming back from last week. I drove by with my parents on Tuesday and I had to fake car sickness just looking at the swings. And I’m never car sick.”

Rose was focused on Eddie alone, watching the twitch of his full lips, his narrowing eyes, knowing that something was going on, but clueless as to what. “So are we on, Dungeon Master? You’ll dare to come in?”

He let the tense silence drag on for a second, leaning forward on his forearm, the zip-chain on his jacket clanking on the table. “You bet we are, McAllister. Next Saturday. One PM. It’ll be the mid-point of the Cult of Vecna campaign, the one I've been planning for months. The adventure should be a long and agonising one, so prepare for it.”

Rose nodded, and the shrill school bell broke the tension around the table. Hellfire may be disrupted, but it looked like she had to play host, and Eddie might break that promise to enter her house after all. She wondered what had changed his mind, if anything had happened with Chrissy, or whoever else it might involve. Perhaps it wasn’t her place to know.

---

Three o’clock had her wandering the parking lot, working what to do with a few spare hours now that Hellfire was cancelled. Jerry was due to pick her up at seven, straight from a shift at work. Mum wasn’t home. She could get the bus home, but the thought of unlocking the door to that empty house, and spending several hours alone in it, wasn’t a pleasant one. Maybe she could go to the public library or Family Video, and pester Robin and Steve for a while.

Instead, her weary feet took her across the football field and on to the well-trodden path to the woods, crunching over leaves, stepping into the clearing. Empty. She sat at the picnic table and traced the little drawings of bats with her fingers, remembering the last time she was here, a couple of weeks ago. The near-kiss, the butterflies, the mixtape.

She pulled out her English notebook with the intention of studying, but her heart led her to the Charlotte Bronte novel hidden deep in her bag. Jane Eyre, her comfort blanket, which she’d read more times than she could count. Despite the allure of Jane and Mr Rochester’s fiery proposal scene, moments later found herself yawning and resting her cheek against the page. Just for a second, huddling in her scarf for warmth in the autumn air, lying gently on the book. Just a second.

“...no, Jeremy, I am not going to hook you up with my supplier. I told you, this is what’s on offer.”

Eddie’s voice drifted through the trees, stirring her awake. His voice was nice. So nice.

“Come on, Munson. If you have ket, don’t you have a little coke? Just this once?”

“No can do. If you don’t like it, you can go to Cartersville and find another dealer. I know a few guys that hang out at the biker bar on Sycamore Road, but they carry.”

“Guns?”

Eddie scoffed. “Did you think I meant candy or something? And they’re not particularly friendly to guys like yourself, who think they just stepped out or Risky Business. Come on, Jeremy, it’s October. You don’t need sunglasses. And that blazer looks freakin’ cold.”

The other, nasal voice must belong to this Jeremy. A name she recognised, one of the party kids who sat opposite Hellfire’s lunch table and gave them hell. Eddie in particular.

“Look, if you can’t do coke, then ket will do.”

“Not at school,” Eddie said firmly, with none of the gentleness she’d come to know from him. “Weed is one thing, but I can’t exactly hide ket in my lunch box, can I?”

“Wait...what the hell? Who's the random chick?” Jeremy called out.

She stirred fully from sleep, her brain whirring quickly to keep up. “Eddie?” Her voice was croaky.

He was running over to her, a hand pressed against her back, his concerned face hovering over her. “You okay, sweetheart?”

Shit. Shit. She’d not seen a drug deal before, but it wasn’t a good idea to get in the middle of one, was it? “Sorry. I don’t know what happened, I was just resting my eyes...and I've just taken over your spot, I'm sorry, I can get out of your way.”

Jeremy took off his oversized glasses and squinted at her. “That the new chick? I don’t want anyone else knowing about this conversation, Munson. If she talks-”

“It’s okay,” Eddie said to her, under his breath. “Just trust me.” Then he quickly reared back and crossed the clearing, full of intimidating energy, until he had Jeremy the party kid pinned up against a tree.

“No one is talking, Jeremy. Not me, the drug dealer, or you, the buyer. Who the hell are you going to talk to, the cops? The principal? And if we’re not talking, the completely unrelated bystander sat at a table in the woods, who just slept through our conversation, definitely isn’t. Understood?”

“Jesus,” the guy choked out. “Understood.”

“And if you so much as look in her direction, i’ll make sure no one in central Indiana sells to you again. I’m not so sure you’ll get through finals and into that fancy college without a serious quantity of uppers, or at least that’s what the gossips say about you at school. Are you a gossip, Jeremy?”

“Nope,” he shook his head, sunglasses dropped to the forest floor. “I’ll catch you another time, man.”

Eddie smiled a toothy grin and tapped him on the cheek. “Good. Now get out of here, shop’s closed for the day.”

Jeremy fled without his sunglasses, a blur of navy blazer and his bouncy Flock of Seagulls hair flapping in the wind, disappearing back in the direction of the school. Eddie took a deep breath, sagging just a little, like the adrenaline had worn off and he couldn’t keep up an intimidating posture.

“I’m sorry,” Rose tried to stand up, knocking her knee on the picnic table and hissing in pain. “This is your spot. It’s only fair that I go.”

“Wait,” he rushed over, black lunch pail dropped on the table. He grabbed the back of his neck, face scrunching up, like he was struggling for words. “I should be sorry. This is a public place, and I don’t want to get you involved in any of that shit. He’s chicken shit, by the way. There’s nothing he could do or say that could get you into trouble, not without admitting he’s been using a serious amount of class A drugs just to get through senior year.”

Rose scrubbed her face with her hand, feeling totally awake and alert. “Thank you. That was...you didn’t need to put yourself in any trouble for me. He won’t come after you, will he?”

Eddie pulled a face of disbelief, his smile returning in full force, brushing her concern away with his hands, flapping around like an awkward idiot. “Jeremy? No way. He might throw a few insults my way at lunch, but that’s the extent of his power. You, milady, are totally safe.”

“Good,” she sighed.

He cocked his head, looking over her books, her position at the table, her rumpled hair. “What are you doing out here in the cold, anyways? Couldn’t get a ride home with...um...anyone else? Not Robin and, uh, Steve?”

“They’re working. I did think about going to Family Video for a while, but I just wanted some space to just be. And Robin and Steve are kind of full on.”

He shifted from one foot to another, jean chain jangling. “Right. Do...do you want me to leave you alone?”

“No,” she said quickly. “I mean, I came to your spot, didn’t I?”

Eddie looked around for a minute, and dropped on the bench opposite her. “Yeah, you did. And why is that, exactly? Not that I mind at all, I just...after the cafeteria, I did think I might not be your favourite person right now.”

Rose frowned. “It’s not that, not at all. I came here to study English, actually, but was led astray by Charlotte Bronte.”

Eddie poked at the cover. “She any good?”

She cleared her throat and spoke aloud, voice tinged with the emotion those words always made her feel: “ Do you think, because I am poor, obscure, plain, and little, I am soulless and heartless? You think wrong. I have as much soul as you, and full as much heart!”

Eddie was taken aback. “Damn, that was good. You didn’t even read that from the page!”

“Jane Eyre is kind of my hero,” she looked down at the table, tracing the outline of Eddie’s drawn bats with her fingertips yet again. “She’s invisible, but she pushes through it to find her strength, her courage.”

“Invisible, huh,” Eddie said, with sincere doubt. “That doesn’t sound fun.”

“It wasn’t,” Rose replied without thinking. “But I don’t think I am anymore.”

“Yeah, definitely not. Highly visible, in a good way, I mean...ugh, I should just stop now. But I’ve gotta say, sleeping outside in the woods isn’t a good idea, even if you were invisible. You don’t know what’s lurking out there,” he gestured to the trees, shrouded in gloom just before sunset.

“I’ve not been sleeping well. I must have become a bit too tired. ”

Eddie's concern was genuine, and he leaned toward her. “Everything okay? I heard you were at the hospital on Monday for tests. That’s gotta be tough, with the amount of time you’ve spent there over the years. Like being back in the war zone, you know? Shellshocked, or something? Or at least that’s what Uncle Wayne calls it, and he was in Vietnam.”

Rose could feel tears prickling at the corners of her eyes. She was touched that he’d remembered, that he’d thought about her during the week, and put himself in her shoes long enough to pinpoint exactly what she was feeling. “I’ve had better weeks.”

He could sense the stress behind her words, she just knew it. “And a free afternoon studying the works of Edgar Allen Poe in the woods was just the thing to top it off? ”

“Poe is very cathartic,” she defended quickly, coming alive again. “I thought you would like his work, it fits with the whole anti-establishment, metal vibe you have going on.”

His smile was blinding. “Oh really? Maybe I haven’t had the best teacher. O’Donnell isn’t exactly inspiring. Hence why I'm still here, seeking that Holy Grail of graduation, the D of destiny.”

“I could help you,” Rose picked at her sleeve. “If English is key to graduating, why not call in a high level spellcaster to help you make it through the adventure?”

“Wait,” he said slyly. “Offering to tutor me and using D&D language to do it? Am I asleep? Is it me that’s napping at the table, and this is all a dream?”

She couldn’t help but laugh, her heart light because they were getting on again. “I can get you more than a D, Munson. I think a B minus is achievable.”

“Woah, woah, don’t aim for the stars, sweetheart. Munson’s don’t get that far.”

The idea that his opinion of himself was so low, that he made jokes and projected his lack of confidence in such a way, was so uncomfortable it almost caused her physical pain.

“You’re the only Munson I know, and you are more than capable,” she said confidently. “This is the mind behind the Cult of Vecna, and all of our other campaigns. You have no idea how much Dustin and the guys love those campaigns. They worship you, and they are incredibly smart. Annoyingly so. If you don’t believe me, believe in their good judgement.”

Eddie blushed, cheeks darkening as he ducked his head and dimpling as he smiled. “Okay. Can’t argue with that logic.”

“Do you want to go to the school library some time, or...” Rose paused; she could see his unease at the very thought of the building behind them, and remembered his agitated state in English class last week, like he couldn’t function under the bright lights and with the drone of O’Donnell’s voice. “Or somewhere else. I’d offer my place but I know it might not be ideal. Maybe...maybe yours?”

His mouth popped open. “You want to come to my place?”

“Yes. If it’s okay. I don’t want to presume.”

“No,” Eddie looked smug. “I get it, the allure of the Forest Hills Trailer Park is too strong for you to resist. You can come over sometime, Ms McAllister. As long as you don’t have anyone that would be bothered by it.”

Rose scrunched up her nose. Did he still think her parents were uppity, high class kind of people, just because of the square footage of her house? It was big, yes, but it was dirt cheap. And there was nothing posh about her or her family, so no trailer park was beneath her, or whatever he seemed to be implying.

“First of all, never call me Ms McAllister again,” she pointed a finger near his face, causing him to laugh and hide behind his own curtain of hair. “Second, no one is going to be bothered. Except Dustin, who probably will be terribly jealous that anyone is spending time with you outside of school, because he loves you desperately.”

“Stop,” Eddie swatted her hand away playfully. “You make it sound so embarrassing.”

“No. It’s sweet. He adores you and wants to be you. Honestly, with those high powered walkie talkies he has going on, he may be bugging your house. Or at least biking over to the trailer park and looking longingly through the window with binoculars as you practice guitar or write up campaigns.”

“This is getting so weird.”

Laughter bubbled up from her chest, warm and sweet as honey. “He likes having you as a role model, that’s all. He sees the good in you. And I have to admit, Dustin is not often wrong about facts or people, as much as I would occasionally like him to be.”

Eddie moaned, slapping his forehead. “I forgot. After lunch he cornered me in the hall, asking if we could finish Hellfire early next Saturday so he can go Trick or Treating. He’s fifteen. Fifteen.”

“I think it’s sweet.”

“Mmm. It’s the way people suddenly get this licence to be interesting and act scary, that’s what irritates me. Like they’re different people for one night, just because normative society dictates it. Costumes, though...costumes I get.”

“So why don’t combine Hellfire and costumes, so he doesn’t miss out?” Rose asked. He raised a brow, looking sceptical, but she ploughed on. “No, wait. Not ghosts or witches. We could dress as our characters. What could be more atmospheric than that? Come on, you know it’s a good idea.”

He thought about it hard. “Fine, you’ve convinced me. I guess I can bring Eddie the Bard to life for a night. But for now, carriage duties. Let’s get you home.”

---

Rose had never seen so much paisley and tie-dye in her life. Boxes upon boxes of clothes in shades of orange-brown, acres upon acres of plaid shirts, and endless racks of capes and flared jackets, the kind that her grandmother would have worn. The thrift store was a huge, cavernous store behind Main Street, full of items donated by the people of Kerley County, sold on at cheap prices. There were stained and faded couches that were nonetheless comfortable, old fashioned sideboards, retro drinks cabinets, and crockery and homeware in great big stacks. Books, too, and Rose had a dog-eared romance paperback under one arm ready to pay at the counter once she was done, lured in by the shirtless hunk dressed in nothing but a kilt on the cover and the promise of a clandestine, bodice-ripping romance. But her target today was the great big section of the store dedicated to second hand clothes.

She spied a scrap of ivory beneath a pinstripe skirt and pulled out a peasant blouse, the crinkled sleeves and body gathered at the top, floaty and feminine. She held it up to her body. It had a certain Medieval air to it, one she enjoyed.

“What do necromancer’s wear, anyway?” Robin called, emerging from a coat rack. “Ooh, that’s pretty, you look like you just came from a rendezvous with a stable boy. Oh my gosh...is that...is that straw in your hair?” She teased, so convincing that Rose actually put her hand to her head tocheck.

Rose groaned. “Robin!”

Her friend’s laugh was throaty and contagious. “I can’t help it, you’re too gullible.”

“I don’t know” Rose toyed with the ruched neckline which dipped where it laced up at the front, working out where it might sit on her chest. “I think it might be too low. Waaay too low.”

Robin threw on a fur coat, striking a dramatic pose and putting on a Transatlantic accent like an old movie star. “If it’s the scar you’re worried about, don’t be, darling. I have stretch marks pretty much the same size, and I don’t give a damn.”

“Alright, Scarlett O-Hara. Wait, are you sure you’re not auditioning for Blanche Dubois right now? Are you secretly in the drama club?”

“Oh please. I can’t be contained and made to remember lines. I’m au naturel. You should get the shirt, but isn’t your character, like, on the cusp of being evil?”

“You’re right, it’s not evil enough” Rose said, folding the blouse up and turning back to the clothing racks with a huff. “She’s a sorceress with a dark and twisted power, hell bent on revenge for her family’s death and learning necromancy to bring them back to life. Oh, and she wears light armour.”

“Hmm. Not sure ‘light armour’ is a category in the thrift store. ‘Lightly stained’, maybe.”

lHey there, Ladies,” a deep voice announced right at their backs. “Shouldn’t you two broads be back in the saloon serving whiskey?”

A figure popped up behind them, cowboy hat lowered and covering his face, foot propped up on a box. He raised the rim of the hat and Rose’s heart rate slowed down.

“Steve?!” Robin brandished a coat hanger as a makeshift weapon, hyperventilating. “When did you get so stealthy?”

He put his hands on his hips and sighed. “God, sorry. I’ll make more noise next time. But look at this hat? What do you think, am I cowboy material?”

“I can see that, actually,” Rose added. “You’d make a good authority figure, protecting the town from rogue gunslingers. The hat looks perfect for the keg party on Saturday you keep going on about. You might be able to rope in some broads whilst you’re there. Or cows...or horses...what do they even catch with the rope-thing?”

Steve raised his brows, “Cattle. Come on, I thought you were smart. But wait...do you really think I should wear this to Kyle’s party? Bianca might be there, and I was this close to dating her last year, she was all over me after the Nancy thing ended. Maybe Bianca likes herself a rugged cowboy.”

“No, Steve!” Robin cried loudly. “That is not keg party material! I know you got invited to the ‘biggest party of senior year’ when you’ve already graduated and we, the actual seniors, are not even a lowly rung on the social hierarchy and have no invite whatsoever, but can you stop rubbing salt in that wound already?”

“Geez,” Steve whined. “I was going to invite you. Apparently Tammy Thompson is going. Tammy who, you know...” he dropped into a terribly un-subtle whisper. “Who you spent a significant amount of time crushing over in sophomore year.”

Robin shook her head vigorously, shaking off the fur coat. “Nope, nu-uh. I’m not fifteen any more, Stevie. I’ve grown past this particular crush.”

“Oh, well some of your band geeks are going to be there too.”

Robin shrugged. “Maybe. Can I ditch early if it sucks?”

“Fine,” Steve said, resigned. “I guess authority figures have to stay sober to protect the townsfolk, or whatever. Rose, the invite is open to you too.”

There were very few, or specifically no parties like this in her past. By the time she was well enough to attend one and back in school at home, everyone was old enough to drink legally, and the need for clandestine gatherings had shrivelled away. “I would like that,” she admitted. “I watched so many teen movies before I moved over, and every one of them ends in some kind of raging keg party where parents mysteriously go out of town for the night and kids trash the house. I always thought...if I was invited to something like that, everything would be okay. I’d have made friends. Gone through the whole quintessential high school experience.”

Steve was shocked. “That’s horrifyingly sad, you know that? I’m about to shed a tear here. Now you have to come so we can fulfil your childhood dreams. Tomorrow, eight o’clock?”

Rose slammed the table, tipping over a box of scarves. “Dammit, I have to stay home tomorrow. My mum’s not well, I need to look after her. Jerry’s working a night shift at the plant, again.”

“There will be other parties,” Robin promised. “It’s only October. Just wait until spring, Hawkins will be one series of keggers after the other, and we’ll go to them all if you like.”

Rose grinned. “Next time, count me in. Now, for the bigger challenge. I have to find clothes worthy of a necromancer for less than twenty bucks from a thrift store.”

“Well,” Steve picked up a heap of corduroy and held it far away from his body. “If it helps, I think someone may have died in these pants. Maybe they were resurrected in them too?”

Robin squealed and ducked down, bringing up a box from underneath the table, her new bangs just visible over the top and she held it aloft. “Oh my god, I may have just found the answer to all your problems. Look!”

The box was still taped up, but on the side, someone had written in loopy script: Rocky Horror Picture Show, Hawkins Amateur Dramatic Society, ‘82.

---

“Be sensible, Rosebud,” Mum said, about to step into the car. “I know you said your book club friends aren’t the partying type, but you’re teenagers alone in a big house. Things are bound to get a bit rowdy.”

“Mum!” Rose groaned. “It’s not a book club, it’s a fantasy game, played by a bunch of comic-book and fantasy-novel loving teenage nerds. That starts at one o’clock in the afternoon. Just how rowdy do you think it could get?”

“Hmm. There are plenty of sandwiches and crisps, and money for pizza if you want it. No alcohol this time, given Dustin and his friends are a bit too young for that. I also left lots of chocolate and sweets in the basket by the door. Try to save some for the trick-or-treaters, won’t you dear? Claudia said there will be lots of them, so I may have gone a bit overboard.”

Rose’s mum Shirley had befriended Claudia Henderson in the grocery store, last week, her first new friend in Hawkins, bonding over raising children with various health issues as single mothers. Claudia had filled her in on the town, the goings on at school, and just how good and sensible Dustin and his friends were. That worked wonders when Rose asked if Mum and Jerry could vacate the house for Halloween for a Hellfire gathering. When she learned that Dustin could perform CPR and had a first aid certificate from his science camp, the deal was sealed, the house freed up for a full day for Rose and her friends.

“We won’t trash the place, promise,” Rose waved and plastered a smile on her face, stifling a laugh as Mum and Jerry pulled out of the driveway and off to Cartersville. It was eleven o’clock, and by Rose’s reckoning she had twelve hours before they were back. Two full hours before the guys were due to arrive. 

She’d been waiting for this moment for a full week, enduring school, planning the night in her head, hoping desperately that Eddie would actually arrive, worrying that he might disappear at the last minute. 

Facing down her anxiety she put on her walkman, danced up and down the house to Michael Jackson and made the place fit for the Cult of Vecna. The cheap plastic cobweb packs from Melvald’s General Store were broken open, and she wove the fake stuff around the light fittings, stair bannisters, and on the mirrors and paintings on the walls. Every candle they’d ever owned was brought out, the more melted and twisted looking the better, littering every surface, wax dribbled onto surfaces she knew she would wipe clean.

The hallway with its impressive fireplace and sweeping stairs were decorative enough, but the dining room was the focus of her energy, the location of the campaign. Usually, the table felt ridiculous for the three of them, but now she loved that it could easily sit ten. A crimson-red tablecloth was draped over the top, candelabra in the centre, and so much fake cobweb around the room that you’d think Shelob was nesting in the corners above the ornate panelled bookcases. In comparison the kitchen table groaned with snacks, enough to sate the bellies of a dozen teenage adventurers on a quest to vanquish a dark necromancer. 

The bloody terrifying mannequins that were in the cellar when they bought the place were placed strategically in windows to look like shadowy figures, draped in old hats and coats to give them a spooky, realistic outline. When she stepped outside into the yard by midday and looked over at her handiwork, she was delighted. It truly looked like a horror house. 

The contents of her wardrobe played on her mind, and even a brisk, chilly shower couldn’t calm her down. She tiptoed around in a towel and emptied the outfit from its bag onto her bed, the leather gleaming and catching her eye. 

The thrift store had yielded a fruitful haul. Next to the medieval-looking peasant blouse, lay a leather corset in deepest brown, a racy thing meant for a Rocky Horror Picture Show revival, with a scandalously low bustline, proper steel boning and eyehooks, and black silk ribbons laced up at the back. When paired with the leather wrist cuffs that went halfway to elbow, she reckoned it might just pass for leather armour. Yes, it was a bit too sexy for a real pair of bracers and a cuirass, but it fit the D&D vibe, at least in her eyes. Plus, wearing the peasant shirt beneath it would cover the sheer abundance of cleavage that she’d been embarrassed to see when she tried the thing on.

With the outfit laced up until she could just about breathe, knee high leather boots and a mid-length skirt, and her hair loosely braided with one or two curls escaping at the front, she truly felt like Lady Ceverra, the neutral-chaotic Cleric and fledgling necromancer.

It might only have been early afternoon, but Rose was busy setting a fire in the dining room hearth, until the soothing crackle of burning logs and the thick scent of woodsmoke filled the air. She was running around with a lit taper when the doorbell rang, and she took a deep breath, adjusting her hair and answering the door with a lit candle in one hand, and faint wisps of smoke around her.

“Who knocks at my castle door during this hour?” She said loudly, in a theatrical voice. “A pack of adventurers, I see. Come in, there is meat and mead at my table.”

All the guys were crowding around and she could see Eddie’s van parked on the drive, her heart racing instantly. But he must have been behind someone else, or getting out the vehicle.

Dustin’s open-mouthed grin was contagious. “Wow. You look freaking awesome. Wait, do you really have mead?”

“No, dummy. There’s Dr Pepper, root beer, or Mountain Dew.”

“Oh, nice,” he replied, holding up a big carved pumpkin. “We brought pumpkins, as requested. Your mom mentioned to my mom that she didn’t have any, so we all brought one. This place is freaking wild, man. It’s going to look amazing with so many pumpkins on the porch.”

“Thank you, gentlemen. Don’t forget to introduce yourselves on the way in,” Rose said, stepping to one side. 

Dustin came in first, with a rugged cloak, leather satchel instead of a backpack, and pan-pipes, slung around his shoulder. “Nog at your service,” he bowed. “Half dwarf bard, whose enchanted pipes play a tune as sweet as honeyed-wine.”

“Welcome, good bard.” Rose dipped into a curtsey.

Mike’s paladin knight came next, with a sword and shield that looked really convincing, but turned out to be plastic. “Lady Ceverra, this house kicks ass. I always wanted to come inside when it was a wreck, but now it looks like something from the movies.”

“Thank you, good sir.”

“Yeah,” Lucas added behind him. “Better than the prop room by a long shot.”

He drew back the string of a wooden bow, pretending to aim, though the quiver of arrows was still on his back. His outfit was the best yet, like something from a Renaissance fair, quartered red and green, with a shirt, jacket and a cap that looked almost real. When paired with the bow, the leather band around his forehead and the slingshot tucked into his pocket, he looked like he meant business.

“Nice pun, Sir ranger.”

“Sundar the Bold,” he replied. “Yeah, it’s supposed to be Robin Hood. Mom got it for me a couple of years back, but we went as Ghostbusters instead that year."

Chris was next, with something that looked like a sheepskin rug fastened around his shoulders and a sledge hammer at his side. “Thordus Boulderbash, whose hammer could cleave the very mountains in two.”

“Impressive,” Rose gave her verdict. “Like Gimli come to life.”

Chris blushed a little; he’d always had trouble talking to her one on one, his wariness of girls in general making it hard to speak to her without the context of a group conversation or something to focus on like the game of D&D itself. But she was pleased to note he went inside with a smile on his face, and not a nervous one.

The rest of the older guys had lingered at the back, and it took all of Rose’s energy to focus on Gareth as he came through the door, and not look back to seek out Eddie’s mop of hair in the background. 

“Sup,” Gareth said casually, leaning against the doorframe in a hooded cloak. “Illian the Unvanquished", half-elf Paladin and Champion of the Lost Lands. But then you already knew that. Can I go and see the murder house now?”

“Don’t mind him,” Jeff clapped his buddy on the shoulder, stepping inside with a tall gnarled branch like a wizard’s staff, with a plastic-looking gem embedded in the top. “He’s not properly house trained.”

“The place is cool thanks for having us,” Gareth mumbled, shrugging Jeff off. “Just remember, we’re not children here for Halloween, this is a serious endeavour. Let’s get set up.”

Jeff shook his head. “My spellcaster Zaegor is gonna have to kick Ilian’s ass tonight. I think he’s just hungry. Maybe he’ll be better after some Halloween candy.”

“We have lots of that,” Rose reassured. “And enough food to feed the whole of Hawkins. Go ahead, the kitchen is straight past the fireplace and staircase, the second door on the right, after the dining room.”

Then she turned to the open door again, and was left face to face with a figure that may as well have been summoned from a romance or gothic horror story. 

Eddie wore a flouncy, loose white shirt fathered at the wrist, and left unlaced at the top, showing off acres of his beautiful, muscular neck, and the beginnings of the tattoos at the top of his chest. On top of the shirt he wore a leather duster jacket, the kind that was almost floor-length. His Reeboks were replaced with leather boots, and his black jeans today didn’t have holes. He carried an old acoustic guitar, one that definitely wasn’t his precious Warlock. The whole ensemble was deceptively simple, but stunning in its effect on Rose.

“Milady,” he took her hand and pressed his lips to her knuckles. His soft, full lips, surprisingly warm...lips she could imagine in many, many other places, until her heartbeat morphed into an awful, beautiful kind of throbbing that settled low in her body, in places it really shouldn’t settle with a bunch of freshmen roaming the house. 

“You’re here,” she said stupidly. “I mean, you made the decision to come inside. I hope you won’t regret breaking the promise.”

His eyes clouded over and he stood up, but still kept her hand in his. “Yeah, well Eddie Munson may not be able to enter, but Eddie the Bard is bound to no such promise.”

“A loophole. How ingenious of you.”

They stood there grinning and holding hands, until Rose realised the source of all the drama and dropped it like a stone; by being here, was he upsetting Chrissy, or whoever else he’d made this promise to? Despite feeling thrilled by his presence in her house, she felt bad for a mysterious person who might be hurt because of it.

Eddie swallowed hard, eyes flicking all over the place. “You look, uh...”

“Ridiculous?”

“Like you just stepped out of a fantasy novel. You should be on horseback, wielding a sword, or something.”

Her skin flushed, and she fidgeted with her hands. “I...I was just thinking the same of you. Very Anne Rice.”

He leaned against the doorframe languidly. “Oh, like a vampire? Does that mean I have to ask permission to enter the mansion?”

“Come in,” Rose said immediately. “It’s not as glamorous as you make it sound. On the left is the parlour and the living room, on the right the kitchen and dining room and pantry. The bathroom is down the hall. Yes, I know it’s ridiculous that it has a parlour. It’s not like I sit around all day drinking tea and...okay, yes I do sit around all day drinking tea, but mostly in my room.”

He explored the place with wide eyes and gangly legs, almost knocking over a row of lit candles, and Rose trailed after him, reminding herself where the fire extinguisher was just in case.

They walked through the kitchen where the boys were congregating around the snack table, and Eddie gasped upon seeing the open archway to the dining room.

“Motherfucker,” Eddie chanted in a sing-song voice. “This is fucking perfect. Creepy, fancy, but also kind of derelict, like the place could fall apart at any given moment. Yep, I feel the ambience, Rosie, I feel it. This is going to be a good night.”

She frowned. “It’s one o’clock.”

He made a beeline for the head of the table, and the chair she’d set up as his throne. On top of the crimson tablecloth, behind the candelabra, lay his goblet.

Eddie gasped. “What the hell! I thought this was locked away tighter than Principal Higgin’s integrity. How is it here?”

“I know someone who knows someone,” Rose said with a smug smile. “Quite literally. Robin is old friends with Beth in drama club, she retrieved the goblet on Wednesday. Give Robin a secret mission and she is all over it. Obsessed. She even gave it a code name.”

Eddie was amused. “What was the code name?”

“Project Elixir.”

“Oooh, I like it. Are you sure she doesn’t want to join Hellfire?”

Rose snorted with laughter, and covered her mouth in embarrassment. “She’s not really one for fantasy.”

“Oh my god, I just spotted a skull. A skull!” Eddie was like a kid at Christmas, examining the gruesome prop on the side table, with its jaw wide open, sat on top of the bowl of candies. 

“Oh, that little old thing?” Rose tried to look cool by leaning back on the walnut panelling, and almost fell over, grasping to hold herself upright. “That’s Yorick. I stole him from a hospital when I was fourteen, on a dare.”

“That’s so fucking metal.”

He turned back to the table and shucked off his leather coat, draping it over the creepy mannequin in the corner. He leaned back in the chair with the nonchalance of an aristocrat, holding the goblet aloft and hooking one leg casually over the chair’s arm. 

“I’m feeling it. I am so feeling it. Fetch the minions,” he told Rose with swagger. “The Cult of Vecna calls for their leader to return, and we heroes must answer with blood and steel.”

---

Six hours. For six long and intense hours they huddled around the grand dining table with their character sheets, cans of Dr Pepper, flickering candles, and battled against the forces of evil. 

Eddie owned the room, he owned the whole house. He monologued like a Shakespearean actor, pacing the room, voice booming during the dramatic moments, whispering during the tense ones, until Gareth literally fell from a chair trying to lean in close to hear him.

“In the dank depths of the cavern, all you can hear is the heavy breathing of those around you. But in the dim, flickering torchlight, which of the hooded cultists are your fellow adventurers in disguise, and which are the true foes? That’s the mystery, there is no way to tell but the sound of their voices and the instinct in your gut.”

Eddie held a candle up to his face, the light casting shadows on his cheekbones and nose. “The acolytes carry the sack into the centre of the cavern, toward the stone altar. It wriggles, it writhes, it moans...and when they dump the contents onto the altar you see it at last...the telltale silver hair of Princess Volara, heir to the throne.”

“Oh shit,” Gareth rocked back and forth. “My betrothed has been captured by the Archmage himself. I won’t let you die, Volara. Not after Vecna slowly bled your soul of it strength.”

Lucas pulled out his slingshot and grabbed the D20, like the little weapon would give him luck. “My turn, guys. I take a stone from the cavern floor and load it into my slingshot-”

“Dude,” Mike interrupted. “You can’t attack, they’ll cut her throat before so much as take off your cloak!”

Lucas grimaced. “Trust me. I take my slingshot and fire the stone toward the sconce on the wall opposite. It knocks the wooden torch, just a little bit, making everyone turn toward the source of light.”

He rolled the D20, and they watched with bated breath, until it rolled onto sixteen.

Eddie pressed the tips of his fingers together, like a movie villain. “I see where you’re going with this. Crit hit, Sinclair. The cultists turn toward the source of light, and for the briefest of seconds, you see their eyes reflecting the firelight. Several of them are brown, several blue, but one is purple.”

“That’s me!” Jeff squealed. “All the potions turned my eyes purple, and-”

The ding-ding of the doorbell stopped them, and a collective groan rose around the table.

“Goddamn it,” Lucas shook his head. “Dustin, can you get the door?”

Dustin's face pulled into an expression of distaste. “Me?! I gave out candy only two times ago, it’s not my turn!”

“But what if it’s the pizza this time?”

Rose shuffled back in her chair, ready to go to the door, but Eddie stopped her, his hand brushing against her sleeve, making her breath catch.

Eddie seemed to pause too, his fingers stilling on her wrist. “Not your turn either. Just cause you’re the only girl, doesn’t mean it’s your job.” He grabbed his new favourite prop, Yorick the skull and played around, moving its lower jaw to mimic speech like a ventriloquist with a dummy. “Thordus, tis your turn to appease the cultists outside. Give them their pound of flesh - and by flesh I mean chocolate - and send them on their way. Go, good fellow! Before they tear down the defences!”

Chris groaned and picked up his sledgehammer, talking directly to the skull instead of Eddie. “Fine, but if I can scare them away, do I get to have the chocolate?”

“No!” Yorick’s jaw - and puppet master - said.

“Take some chocolate,” Rose called out, overruling the Dungeon Master. “Just don’t use the hammer anywhere near the children. We don’t need another murder to take place in this house, one was enough.”

“Where were we,” Eddie continued. “Ah, yes. Lucas, your character Sundar makes out Jeff’s wizard and Rose’s cleric in the crowd, hidden behind their own cultists masks and ready to save the Princess. They both stand to your left, by the cavern entrance. On your next turn, you can attack the Archmage and interrupt the ritual before it summons Vecna himself.”

Lucas passed the D20 over to Rose, who held out her shaky hand and clasped it, trying to determine a course of action.

“I can’t summon the dead body in the corner as a thrall, can I?” She asked, already knowing the answer.

“Sorry, sweetheart,” Eddie said gently. “You’re still level eight. Might be level ten by the next session, at which point you unlock Animate Dead and kick some cultist ass.”

She slumped in her chair, aching at the tight lacing of the corset. “God, I can’t wait.”

A series of childish screams sounded outside, followed by Chris’ laugh. He came running back in with his sledgehammer and a pile of chocolate and candy, hoarding it like Smaug with gold in his corner of the table. 

Jeff began to get antsy, fidgeting in his chair, checking his watch. “It’s seven o’clock, man. Where is this pizza?”

“It’s Saturday and Halloween,” Dustin rationalised, chugging back his Dr Pepper and wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. “They’re busy.”

“Wait,” Eddie stood up suddenly, drawing their attention. “You shiver and clutch the robes tighter around your shoulders, taken by a sudden chill in the air. It’s not just cold in the cavern, it’s icy, your breath fogging in front of you like an ice dragon.”

Jeff took in a sudden breath. “You know what that means...he’s here.”

Mike scrunched up his face. “Who?”

Jeff leaned in. “Vecna.”

The dining room felt chilly in reality, and Rose shivered as if someone walked over her grave, ignoring the fact that shuddering her chest probably did little to hide the effect of her tight corset and the poorly-concealed cleavage.

The faint buzz of electric lights dimming rose above the crackling flames of the fireplace, and the ceiling lights and lamps in the hallway upstairs flickered, the power outage travelling downstairs and affecting the bulbs one by one, like they occasionally did. But this time, with the whole party of eight fixed on the malfunctioning lights, it got quiet and tense very quickly.

“Uh...guys?” Lucas asked, his face a mask of horror. “You saw that too, right?”

“It’s only been three months, I can’t do this again,” Mike added, running his hands through his hair.

“Don’t worry,” Rose added quickly, trying to diffuse the weird tension amongst the younger boys. “I know it looks weird but it’s just an old house, the wiring is dodgy. It’s happened before, but the power hasn’t blown out or anything.”

The path of malfunctioning lamps drew toward them, until the kitchen light just a couple of metres away flickered into life, and then faded away slowly.

“That light wasn’t even on,” Dustin said, his face ghostly pale. “Guys, I think we have a code red. I repeat, code red.”

Eddie looked puzzled, waving a hand toward Dustin, the cuff of his shirt sleeve flapping about. “What’s a code red, Henderson?”

A second ding-dong interrupted them again, and Rose unfurled her aching legs and stood up with a groan. “My turn. I’ll get some money in case it’s pizza. If anyone dares to move my character, I will kill them. That includes you Gareth. Actually, that mostly refers to you.”

“Jeez,” Gareth scowled from beneath his hood. “What happened to innocent until found guilty?”

Rose wandered into the kitchen, where the sandwich crusts, empty crisp packets and wrappers littered over the kitchen table were the only remains of the feast, demolished by a hungry horde by three o’clock. She retrieved the small wad of cash from the tin of tea leaves and opened the front door.

“How much is it?” She asked, looking down at her hands and trying to remove a folded twenty dollar bill. 

A wave of noise hit her, voices clamouring and cheering, and Rose dropped the money on the porch floor.

Steve Harrington tipped the cowboy hat from the thrift store at her, one spurred boot propped up on a giant, silver keg of beer. His jeans and tasselled waistcoat rounded out a fairly decent cowboy outfit. 

“Howdy there,” he said. “Did someone call for a keg party?”

“Surprise!” Robin leapt out from the crowd of people - wait, who were all the people? - in a full-on French mime costume, complete with beret, stripey shirt, braces and white face paint. “If Rose cannot come to the keg party, the key party shall come to her! I see you kept your outfit on, damn, you could cause a traffic accident with those on display!”

Rose crossed her arms defensively as teens in all kinds of Halloween costumes pushed past them, flooding the hall before she even had a chance to stop. Jeremy - the party dude, with the coke habit, entered the hall and looked around at the decorated house, with an exclamation of: “Sweet, nice haunted house, man.”

“What the hell?” Rose said. “How did this happen?”

Some of Robin’s bandmates were next, and a girl with red hair she’d recognised from school. They carried in cases of beer, bottles of spirits, and - as if it was plucked from a movie - a boombox playing something electronic and very not suited to the whole D&D vibe.

“You were so sad last weekend,” Steve explained. “We wanted to make your keg party dream come true. I know people, all it took was a couple of calls. Not sure how, but the rest of the school sniffed the party out like ”

Robin spread her arms open. “Ta da!”

Panic began to flood Rose, particularly how one very particular DM might react to the chaos. “But we’re still in the middle of Dungeons and Dragons!”

Robin pulled a face. “Huh? You said it started at one.”

“Exactly. We’re not even half way through!”

Robin’s face fell, but Steve looked calm and collected, stepping aside to let in a string of witches - cheerleaders from school, Rose thought - his eyes fixed on them as they walked by. “So we have a little party on the margins. Best of both worlds, right? Come on, don’t say your parents won’t like it. Your mom literally plied me with alcohol last time I was here, no questions asked. She’s cool.”

“Plus,” Robin pointed for emphasis. “We’ll be on clean up duty, and help you get the place tidy before they come home.”

“In four hours?” Rose cried out.

“No, sixteen hours, dummy. Eleven AM.”

“No, Rob. Four hours. They’re not staying overnight.”

“Oooh,” Robin let out a whistling breath. “Steve, have we fucked up? Can we stop it now?”

The keg had already been carried in, music blared, and a loud smash inside caused them all to wince. 

“I don’t think so,” Steve said through gritted teeth. “Maybe we let it burn out for a couple of hours, until the alcohol’s gone. You know, like a forest fire.”

“Is that a good analogy, Steve?” Robin asked sarcastically. “Aren’t forest fires destructive?”

He held up his hands, kind of dopey. “What? I saw a PBS documentary on forest management last week, they’re supposed to, like, regenerate the forest by providing nutrients and encouraging new growth.”

“Fire...” Rose murmured. “There are a hundred lit candles in there. Quick, we have to put them out before the whole place goes up in flames!”

“Come on dingus,” Robin shook her head. “The least we can do is avert a disaster. You take the left side, i’ll take the right.”

Rose left them to put out candles and ran inside, her heart sinking. A picture frame had been knocked over, wooden frame splintered, but thankfully the glass was still intact. “Off!” She shouted to a ghost in a low-effort bedsheet with holes in it. “Break anything, and you pay for it. Damn it all to hell, I haven’t even checked with the Hellfire, they might be disappointed. I don’t know if they like this kind of thing, they might be too shy-”

As she wandered through the house and into the dining room, the Hellfire guys and the party people seemed to meet, absorbed into one big crowd. Lucas hi-fived another member of the basketball team.

Dustin was clutching his own face and giggling. “A kegger?” He squealed. “I didn’t think I'd be invited to one of those until Junior year. I’m three full years ahead of schedule...at this rate, I'll be prom king. Look out, class of ‘90!”

“I’ve heard of those kinds of parties, but I dared not hope...” Chris said. “Please say this isn’t a dream.”

Gareth was leaning back on his chair, his hooded cloak falling off his head, almost drooling at the outfits of the witch-cheerleaders. The game pieces in front of him and all the other guys had been completely forgotten. 

“Oh,” Rose said to herself. “Perhaps they don’t mind after all.”

The collective joy around the Hellfire table was contagious, the room filled with people and red cups of foamy beer, the electro-beat of Dead Man’s Party ringing out on the boombox...it wasn’t so bad. Like a John Hughes movie had leapt out from the screen and took place live in her home. 

Rose began to relax just a fraction. Until she saw the uncertainty on Eddie’s face. No, it wasn’t uncertainty, he looked downright pissed. She bumped her way through the crowd, elbowing through a pair of ghosts and a Princess Leia with fake buns on a headband, and tried to get to his side.

“Eddie, I’m sorry,” she called over one of the revellers in a monster costume. “I didn’t know this was happening.”

He swept up the figurines and board pieces, snatching one from the curious green-painted hand of the monster dude, and packed them back in the box with an agitated, twitching face. 

“S’cool,” he lied. “No worries, maaan. We’ll have a big party instead of the Cult of Vecna. Pick it up next week, I guess. That is, if we haven’t lost the guys to the popular social clique.”

Rose worked her bottom lip between her teeth, feeling terrible about the interruption, kind of angry at Robin and Steve, yet oddly touched they tried to put this together just for her.

She approached him gingerly, putting a hand on his arm, looking deeply into his big, doe-eyes. “Eddie, don't be ridiculous. They love Hellfire, there’s no way they’ll abandon it for a moment with the popular kids. You’re like their hero.”

At that very moment Dustin ran forward, stopping in his tracks, looking at the doorway to the hall, dumbfounded. “Steve? What the hell, are you behind this kegger?”

Steve opened his arms wide. “Henderson, you little menace. Come here!”

The two of them ran toward each other almost in slow-motion, colliding in a dramatic and meaningful hug, which they tried to make more masculine with a lot of back-slapping and clearing of throats.

Dustin looked up at him, like he hung the moon. “Crashing a Halloween party at a haunted house with a keg? Classic King Steve. Graduation can’t even contain your reputation at school, can it?”

“Oh no,” Rose muttered under her breath, watching Dustin and Steve greet each other like the oldest of friends. Shit. From the corner of her eye, she saw Eddie was wounded. Sure, he covered it by turning to grab his guitar from the eager-fingered green monster and pointedly ignoring Dustin. But she could see right through it. Jealousy. But it felt like there was more beneath the surface. 

Eddie surveyed the crowd, and winced at a particularly shrill beat from the boombox. “I’ll get out of your hair.”

“No,” she pleaded, grabbing his arm again. “Stay. Have a drink. I don’t want you to go.”

He looked down at her hand, wavering. “I guess I could have one.”

Rose sighed with relief. “Stay right here, I'll get us beer. If I'm going to be a reluctant party host, I might as well benefit from it by getting buzzed.”

The moment the crowd parted them, she lost sight of his long leather jacket and white frilly shirt, swallowed by dancing monsters and witches, moving to the beat. The kitchen was chaotic, all the Halloween candy eaten, and the pizza they ordered an hour ago had mysteriously arrived, been paid for, and completely devoured, leaving nothing but the greasy boxes.

“Robin!” She cried. “Where the hell is the beer?”

“In the parlour!” Her friend’s voice echoed back, a blur of face paint and a beret just visible in the hall. 

By the time she filled two cups with foamy beer, avoided the groping hands of a Thriller-style zombie whose face was almost planted in her cleavage, and got back to the dining room, Eddie was nowhere to be found. 

Okay, it wasn’t quite what she’d hoped for, but it was a party. A lively one, on Halloween, surrounded by teens who were high on hops and hormones, and...now that she came to think of it, what if they trashed upstairs? Used the bedrooms like a brothel, queueing up to fondle each other her mother’s quilted bedspread? It was enough to make her panic, until she saw a figure in a fur cloak, with his sledgehammer held high.

“Chris,” she waved at him, gaining his attention. “If you guard the stairs, i’ll owe you.”

“What?”

“I’ll owe you!”

His face was a picture of surprise. “You’ll blow me?”

“What the fuck, no!” She screamed, attracting attention, as When Doves Cry blasted across the room. “I will be in your debt. Owe you a favour. Anything except that!”

He nodded, finally getting it. “What do you want?”

“Guard the stairs, no one except me or Robin and Steve are allowed up. Okay?”

“A side quest,” he exclaimed. “No one will breach the stairs, milady. They can send an army, but I will guard it with my life!”

She sagged, secure in the knowledge that he wouldn’t let anyone through, though slightly worried that sledgehammer would be put to use at some point, even by accident. 

“All the candles are out,” Robin sidled up to her. “I hid your mom’s ornaments in the pantry, and Dustin is literally about to combust from excitement. Time to actually enjoy the party, you know, dancing, music, a little joie de vivre...sound familiar?”

“What, we’re not supposed to scowl at the edges like old spinsters?” Rose said with mock confusion.

“Dance with me!” Robin commanded.

“I’m too clumsy!”

“Me too. If we do it together, maybe we’ll cancel each other out. Two left feet make a right, or whatever the saying is.”

She allowed herself to be dragged on the dance floor, and when Duran Duran came on the stereo, she couldn’t stop herself, laughing breathlessly as Steve did a little cowboy dance and completely failed to charm Bianca, the current object of his affections.

They were clumsy, they were awful, but Halloween costumes were forgiving, weren’t they? Freedom to be more than who you were, and try out a different side of yourself. The party burned on for longer than she realised, until the grandfather clock in the hallway struck eleven, the sonorous ring of it snapping her out of it.

Shit. Mum and Jerry would be home any minute, and the party was in full throes, nowhere near burning out like a forest fire, or whatever other hamfisted metaphor Steve had used earlier.

Her face was burning, lungs struggling for air, and the place was too crowded. Rose bolted for the front door, pushing past a couple shoving their tongues down each others throats and emerging onto the porch, where more kids hung out with cups of foamy beer. The hoppy smell made her feel queasy, feet stumbling until she was out on the driveway.

“Nice party, new girl,” someone shouted. She gave them a thumbs up, no clue who was beneath the costume, and kept going until she saw Eddie’s van. It was at the front of the drive, trapped by a layer of parked cars of those who arrived later, drawn by the buzz in the air and the gossip whipping around the town at lightspeed, of a party at the murder house.

She put her hands to the widow and peered through the glass: empty. But then a chord drifted on the night air, with the scent of pumpkin flesh and pine. Black Sabbath, the chorus of Lady Evil. Eddie sat on the swings over the street, the foggy evening lit by buzzing street lamps, illuminating the frizzy hair like a halo.

Rose ws drawn by the song, leaving behind the party and stepping willingly into the playground, watching his ringed fingers strum the acoustic guitar and produce a sound so natural and beautiful she held her breath. He was concentrating so hard his tongue poked out the corner of his mouth, and her heart did a little leap. The perils of having a heart condition and helplessly falling for someone...each time her heart raced, she felt weird, and worried herself needlessly. But she found it was a good weird.

“Ah,” Eddie said, sitting up as her shadow fell over him. “Here she is, the Queen of the Night herself. Mistress of the keg party. Lady reveller, entertaining the masses in her tavern.”

She snorted, and dropped onto the best swing, cold chains biting her fingers. “I’m hardly a party mistress. Haven’t even had a drink.”

He kept strumming the guitar, playing through the rest of the song, but smiling wide. “No way.”

“Yes way. Not even a drop of beer.”

His teasing side-eye was enough to warm her right up. “You running for sainthood or something?”

She pondered it for a while. “Sister Rose does have a good ring to it. What, why are you laughing?!”

“You’d be a terrible nun, sweetheart,” he said, voice low and throaty. “You’ve been converted to metal music, satan worship, and liquor. Yeah...you’re too good at sinning.”

His teeth shone pearly white and the loose ruffled shirt was still half-open, exposing the neck that would tempt Dracula himself. And when he saw her looking, his wicked grin only widened. Well bloody hell, he must be out to kill her. Do her in, set her on metaphorical fire, or at least banish all the nice, innocent thoughts she’d been thinking about how they could be friends. But there was a Chrissy-shaped elephant in this room, even though they were outside, one they were no closer to overcoming.

“My last hangover was one to remember. It might be a while before I can stomach alcohol without wanting to be sick.”

Eddie laughed and put down the guitar gently. “Just avoid the instrument, sweetheart. My uncle Wayne won’t forgive me if it comes home covered in vomit. It’s his baby, carried it all the way from Tennessee.”

“Your Uncle Wayne sounds great,” she ventured. He hardly ever talked about his family, only when they were alone. He didn’t have a mother and father and a picket fence, like most of his friends. Less stability, and more shame. “Did he teach you to play?”

His smile was bittersweet, eyes glazed over and lost in memories. “My old man taught me first. Uncle Wayne kept it up later, when he wasn’t around. Real country stuff. But the love of music? That came from my mom. We didn’t have much, but no matter how little money you have, you can’t take away music. I’d be strumming and banging on anything in sight, dancing along to her records. Hendrix and Fitzgerald and all sorts of blues.”

Rose swung back and forth gently, boots trailing on the grass. “How did she...”

“Cancer.”

“Shit.”

“She was thirty-three.”

“Oh god. That’s fucking awful Eddie, I didn’t know. How old were you?”

He twisted his swing’s chains to the side, so he was facing her. “Ten. She’s buried at the cemetery off Cornwallis. I go there sometimes. Never on the day she died, there is not a little bit of me that wants to remember that day. But I go there every now and then, and always on her birthday. I, uh, know it sounds stupid, but I bring the guitar and play some Hendrix sometimes.”

“Not stupid,” she said, swinging higher and higher, feeling the rush of being at the top of the world, and the drop in your stomach when you fall back to earth again. “You’re talented as fuck. Must have been that goblet of rock that’s inside. I’d better not let anyone drink from it, or you’ll be dethroned as Hawkins’ rock god.”

“Sweetheart, do not inflate my ego. I can hardly fit in the van as it is. If my head gets bigger, will I grow more hair, or will it go ratty and balding, spread like butter over too much toast?”

Rose laughed until she couldn’t breathe, and stuck out her heels, feet jarring in the grass as she made the swing come to a stop. “You’re trying to kill me, Munson. Oh god, my ribs. It hurts.”

Eddie half-rose from the swing seat, face etched with concern. “Are you...sick? Do we need a doctor?”

“It’s this corset,” she grimaced, twisting her hands to her back and trying to pull on the laces. “Flipping torture devices made by sadists, that’s what they are. I couldn’t cope with the Victorian era. No wonder the ladies fainted all the time and needed smelling salts.”

“Oh, right,” he crossed his arms, shoving his hands into his armpits, like he didn’t know what to do with himself. “So you didn’t...uh, you didn’t just have that little torture device hanging around then? Not your weekend outfit?”

“Bloody hell, no,” Rose continued to struggle, going pink in the face. “I think I need help, I can’t reach the back. Could you undo the knot for me?”

Eddie stepped back. “You sure?”

Rose went light headed, and she stepped around until her back faced him, drawing her loose braid over the front of her shoulder. “I’m not asking you to strip me naked, Eddie. Just loosen it up a little. Besides, you can see I have a shirt on underneath this thing.”

“Oh. Loose...laces...knots. I happen to be amazing with my fingers, lots of practice. Oh Jesus H Christ, I meant with guitar strings not...though come to think of it...god, shut up. Shut up, Eddie.”

“Guitars,” she said dumbly. “I get it.”

His breath fanned the back of her neck and she could feel the warmth of him at her back. Don’t think of his fingers...don’t think of his fingers...

In a few moments he’d picked open the knot, and a single touch of his calloused finger to the exposed skin between her shoulder blades had a shiver rippling up her spine.

“Sorry,” he laughed nervously. “Kinda cold out here. So what do I do now?”

“Just tug on the top thread until it moves an inch or two, then the next one, and keep going. It should loosen up quite easily.”

He cleared his throat. “Right. Gotcha.”

The top of the corset began to loosen and the pressure in her ribs and lungs slowly eased, and it was glorious, remembering how to breathe again, the blood flowing back to her skin and tingling all at once.

She groaned, loudly, just as Eddie’s fingers worked their way down; he jolted and tugged the lace too hard, and somehow within a single fluid move the lace unravelled and the whole thing dropped to the floor.

“Oh...ooh no, n-no.” Eddie stammered.

With agonising awareness, Rose felt her nipples hardening as the cool night air rushed beneath the loose, half-open peasant shirt. And in an instinctive, foolish move, she turned around to see what had happened, until he was inches away from her. 

The sensation of boobs - and not small ones, not by any stretch - being freed after a long period of containment was a very personal, very private thing, and one she had not experienced in front of a man, let alone one she fancied the pants off of. Within a split second she’d covered them with her hands, with the flimsy shield of the peasant shirt. Unfortunately, she’d left the garment open to better fit beneath her corset, and it was a flimsy layer of clothing by itself, made translucent by the buzzing street lamp over their heads.

“I seem to be in a state of undress,” Rose said politely. “Oh lovely, I’ve fully embraced life as a Victorian lady, haven’t I. Someone will see my ankles in a minute, and denounce me as the town hussy. Oh fuck.”

Eddie's eyes were pools of coal-black, completely unreadable, somehow everywhere over her body all at once, until he jerked back like he’d been burned. 

“Do you...” his voice was low and even, like he was putting great effort into controlling it. “Do you want me to lace it back on?”

“No! It would take too long, I'm one gust of wind away from being topless here.”

“Here,” he flung off his leather duster coat, like it had fleas. “Take it.”

“Won’t you be cold?”

“I run hot, like a furnace usually. Warm all the time. Never need a blanket, not even in winter.” he babbled. 

Rose tugged the sleeves of the leather jacket on, and held the edges together at the front. Now that image was too much...Eddie naked, Eddie sleeping with no clothes, and no blanket. But now, he was in his own flowing white shirt.

“I like your shirt,” she said, humour coming back into her voice now she had some semblance of modesty. “We kind of match.”

Eddie looked down at himself and pretended to be shocked, playing the jester, jumping back. “Oh my gosh, how did that get there? Wait...if I put on your corset, i’d look very Rocky Horror, wouldn’t I. Shall I do it?”

She couldn't help but giggle. “Ah, but they would think we’ve been out here...you know...doing stuff.”

His eyebrows waggled and he paced around, giving her a very mischievous look. “Ah, stuff. I thought you were a virtuous woman, Sister Rose?”

“What, a nun can’t cross dress with her dungeon master? Whatever has the world come to?”

He strutted around like a peacock, like something from a romance novel, chest half-exposed, long hair curling around his shoulders. Rose noticed a silver necklace of some kind hung at his chest, a crucifix maybe? Yes, yes she would be re-reading Anne Rice tonight, she was sure of it.

“Stuff,” he repeated. “Naughty things. Things someone inside might not like. I get it. Maybe we should head back in, before the parentals come home and see the lady of the house dishevelled in the street, like a common whore.”

“Oh,” she raised her brows. “I’ve been upgraded to whore, have I?

“Promoted, sweetheart. I guess you have a thriving career ahead of you.”

“A nun and a whore. What will the priest say?”

Eddie winked. “It’s kinky, he’ll love it..”

Whilst some of the partygoers had begun to drift off, bound by curfews and the threat of permanent grounding, most of them remained. Dustin, Lucas and Mike were hanging out in the dining room window, and Robin and half their classmates would be inside.

“Do I have to go in?” She asked, looking back at the swings with longing.

“Eventually, yes.”

She looked up to the windows of the house, and a grin spread over her face. “Who said I have to go through the front door? Eddie, are you good at climbing trees?”

He looked to her, to the house, to her, back to the house, cogs whirring in his brain. “Oh my god.”

She nodded. “Yes.”

“No.”

“It makes sense. My window isn’t locked.”

“Do you have a death wish, sweetheart? Are you high? Except I know you’re not, cause I control the supply at school.”

“I’m high on life!”

He laughed and shook his head. “Goddamn it, you are going to be the death of me.”

Rose couldn’t stop giggling, until she sounded like a bit of an idiot. “Already died once, haven’t I? I must have eight remaining. You have nine left, like a cat.”

Eddie was contemplative. She thought she’d lost him for a minute there, as he turned his back to her. But a second later he came back, holding the leather, ribbed corset in his hands and shoving it in the waistband of his jeans. “You’ll need this, to protect your innocent reputation. Come on, Sister Rose, let’s break you back into the convent.”

“Oh, this is exciting,” she clapped her hands. “I’m living out every high school fantasy in one night.”

“It’s a good job your house has a nice veranda, and a great big tree right next to it. Come to think of it, you should get better security. That’s a thief’s wet dream.”

She giggled even more, stopping to breathe hard and clutch at his sleeve, completely ruining their stealthy approach. After a long pause they made it to the cedar tree at the side of the house, and Eddie climbed ahead of her, working out footholds and helping her take each step up. 

“Look,” she hissed. “They don’t even see us!”

The couple on the porch seat were sucking each other's faces off, too busy to notice the people climbing a tree only twenty feet away.

“Of course they don’t, they’re about to get to third base.”

“Yeah...I don’t understand baseball. No idea what that means.”

Eddie reached a horizontal branch and slithered onto it, testing its weight, and finding it sturdy. He hauled Rose up, until she straddled the branch and hugged the main trunk, watching how he dropped easily from the tree to the veranda below her mother’s bedroom.

“Come on,” he beckoned, hands outstretched. “I’ve got you.”

She dropped onto him with a thud, with a mental reminder to thank the contractor who’d repaired the roof last month, for doing such a sturdy job. There were some limbs pressed together, some awkward scrambling upright, until they stood holding each other's forearms, balancing together.

“So,” he said casually. “Which room’s yours?”

Rose looked up, gesturing with her chin to the big, round stained-glass window. “Up there.”

He threw his head back, exposing the column of his throat. “The attic? You’ve gotta be kidding me!”

“Hold me.”

Eddie blinked a few times. “What?”

“Boost me up. I can get in the side window, then pull you up afterward.”

“Sure,” he nodded. “We could do that.”

They crept to the side of the veranda, beneath a dormer window, and Rose limbered up, then wound her fingers together and cracked her knuckles. “I’m ready. How do you want to do this?”

Eddie held out his arms moving them up and down, like he was looking for somewhere to grab. “Maybe you should get on my shoulders? Jump up?”

The air seemed to crackle as she stepped toward him, looping her arms about his shoulders. She was so nervous she jumped straight away, until her legs locked about his waist and his head oh for god’s sake his head was at a level with her chest.

“Not that way,” He said, muffled by their clothes. “I meant jump on my back, not my front!”

“That would have made sense.”

“We’ll go with it,” he said, shifting her weight in his arms. “Can you reach the window from here?”

“Back up to the wall for me.”

He did as she asked. “Now?”

Her fingertips were so near, bark-scraped palms flush against the bottom of the window pane, almost able to push open the sash window. “Almost, let me get a bit higher.”

She wriggled up him, until somehow her knees were planted on his shoulders. “Yes, I've got it!”

“Hmm. Fuck. Oh god.”

“I’m sorry, I know I’m not light.”

“No, sweetheart,” Eddie’s voice was muffled again. “Just be careful where you move, or the couple on the porch won’t be the only ones out here getting to third base.”

She pushed open the window and the momentum carried her slightly forward, realising just at the wrong moment that his head was very much in between her legs. Panic and adrenaline made her pull herself into the window more than her arms could under normal circumstances, and before long she was crumpled on the floor of her attic bedroom, quivering in a heap. 

“Uh, Rosie? You in there?”

She sat up so quick it made her lightheaded. “Yep, I'm coming.” She appeared over the window ledge and looked down into big, brown eyes and a dimpled smile.

He threw his arms up, dropping down on one knee like a knight in a fairy tale. “Rapunzel, let down your hair,” 

“What?” She grabbed her braid, looking at it like a slack-jawed idiot. “Oh. Something to climb. I see.” She dived back into her room, switching on a lamp. Her scarf? Her hockey stick? Her eyes landed on the floral blue dressing gown on the wardrobe door, she pulled the terry cloth belt from it and threw it out the window.

Holding the rope with one hand, he climbed up the wall like a limber monkey, latching onto her arm as he neared the top and launching himself into the window, jean chain clanking on the sill. They collided again, proximity making her drunk and dizzy, lightheaded from being in the presence of all this Eddie. She was suddenly very aware Eddie Munson was just between her legs, whilst they broke into her attic room, with a raging party going on downstairs and music throbbing through the floorboards. There was no way she’d anticipated the night ending like this.

He rubbed his scratched palms together and became aware of his surroundings, peering into the corners, wandering around aimlessly, poking at her things. “So this is like your lair? Very creepy, very cool. Very Rose.”

“You think?”

“Hell yeah,” he gave her an enthusiastic nod. Oh god, he looked good in that shirt, it was sinful. He zeroed in on the bookshelves, fingers tracing on the spines. “That is a looot of books. If you didn’t have a wall of sexy guys plastered right next to it, I'd be kind of intimidated, y’know?”

“I’m a connoisseur of bands and movies,” she said, eyeing the posters of her old crushes, marvelling that the new one, the real one, was right there. “Purely a coincidence that they’re all very attractive men.”

“Harrison Ford,” Eddie appraised the poster of Indiana Jones. “Classic. I get it, it’s the whip, isn’t it.”

“Of course, every girl’s dream,” she replied. “Would you...would you mind waiting outside the door while I get changed? As much as I like this jacket, I-”

His mood shifted, becoming more guarded. “Oh, I get it. I don’t want a particular person to get the wrong impression, like I carry you into your bedroom window in a state of undress all the time. Especially when they might be downstairs, dancing to shitty music with the rest of the popular crowd.”

Chrissy was here? Rose supposed it made sense, she’d seen half the cheerleading squad in witchy outfits attacking the keg earlier. Come to think of it, she didn’t know who half the people in the house were, partly due to the costumes, but clearly a bigger crowd had been summoned by the invite from the former King of Hawkins High. “I didn’t realise there was someone...I mean I thought, but...”

“It’s okay,” Eddie flapped around nervously, inspecting her bookshelves again. “I kind of figured it out last week. Moving on swiftly, I can either sneak downstairs or go back out the window. I’m thinking the window; Chris might kneecap me with the sledgehammer on the way down the stairs, he looks like he was taking that responsibility very seriously.”

“I don’t want you to break your neck on the way down. I’ve never seen someone trip on their own feet so much, except Robin, maybe. If I didn’t know you were stone cold sober I’d think you were drunk.”

Eddie took the mortal blow badly, clutching his chest. “Me? Clumsy? I’m as graceful as a...okay, you got me there McAllister.”

Fuck. He was so clumsy, so charming, so infuriatingly on the same wavelength as Rose. It was typical, she supposed. She found someone she was crazy about, and he was crazy about someone else. 

Eddie had given her more courage and more reason to break out from her carefully crafted shell of invisibility than anyone. And maybe, just maybe, she should do something very…stupid. Then he was walking away, back facing, his hand on the doorknob.

“Eddie, wait,” she caught his arm. His pretty brown eyes found hers, boring into her heart. “I need to say something.”

He swallowed. “Is this the part where you tell me you wanna leave Hellfire? I don't want…I guess it-”

“No, you idiot! I love Hellfire. It's something else, stupid really.”

He stood up straight, becoming more serious. “Yeah?”

She took a deep breath. “I really, really-”

Darkness covered them like a thick blanket, pitch black so dark she could only feel his arm, not see him at all. Jeering and shouting from a half a hundred teens all at once rose through the house; then the music died, and all she could feel was her racing heart.

“Party's over, dipshits,” Steve cried out downstairs, to a chorus of boos. “If you're still here in five minutes, congratulations, you volunteered for clean up duty.”

Eddie's warm breath fanned her face in the dark. “I'd, um, offer to stay, but I have six guys to get home in the van, three of them freshmen and possibly buzzed for the first time.”

“Of course, you should collect the hellspawn,” Rose managed a lame laugh. “It's dark, so you can sneak down the stairs without being seen.”

“Well, don't mean to brag, but this bard's stealth is pretty high.”

He began to pull away.

“Eddie?”

“Yeah?”

“Thank you. For being so kind.”

His hand squeezed hers. “Anytime, Rosie. Just say the word.”

In three heartbeats he was gone, stirring the air in his wake. And despite sneaking into her window with a boy, an out if control keg party, and the prospect of parents on the rampage for an impromptu rager, she'd trade every one of those high school cliche’s just to hold onto him a minute longer, or as long as he'd let her.

[starfleetshrimps]

i love star trek bc it's actually a high school theater production most of the time. We focus a lot on the over-acting, theatricality of the actors and the directors, and that's all well and amazing, but /I/ want to focus on the /TECH/ bc ASHAijnjsdnbhgaARREghghhuuagjkshdmhbAHJBSSHJHIEJBnkjsdjhbsdhjBmahbsjshsbHkjnswkjshsn yea.

FIRST THE SETS?!? they're so silly and stupid? i know they get a lot of shit but the amount of work (not to mention styrofoam) that went into building individual sets for each planet they went to? like sure about 50% of the away missions take place in the california desert (the arena, *cough cough*, etc) but the rest of them have individually made sets that look PRETTY GOOD MAN. they get the point across, they're FUN, and innovative, and they really don't reuse planet sets all that often as well.

PLUS they used traditionally /theatrical/ cycloramas with painted backgrounds and classical cyc lighting (reminiscent of mariano fortuny's domed cyc! i WILL talk more about lighting) which look really cool and once again get shit for being unrealistic.

it's not supposed to look realistic it's supposed to look cool as shit. and it does. shut up. <3

if you view the sets as being modern TV sets then yeah, they're weird, and they look sorta bad, but THEYRE NOT modern TV sets: they're THEATRICAL SETS FROM THE 60-70S. AND I LOVE THEM.

SECONDLY, THE

lighting

while it's true that some shows in the 60s were developing new lighting styles specifically for TV, remember that in the year 1950 less that 10 percent of US homes had a television. this shit was new. COLOR tv was ESPECIALLY new. nobody knew how to light these things! and actually why would you need a new lighting style, we already KNEW how to light dramatic productions, why would we ever need to reinvent the wheel Stanley Mccandles, Mariano Fortuny, and Gene Rosenthall already invented says Gene Roddenberry and Jerry Finnerman (the head lighting designer). and oh my god i am so ridiculously glad. because the lighting. is so good.

i HAVE seen others talking about how good it is in the super early episodes (Charlie X and the conscious of the King, etc.) and i do agree! but i disagree that the quality goes down. i think it just got a tad bit more subtle as the show went on and it gets less in your face, harder to notice. but i noticed. because I'M the WORST (and also a lighting tech)

the impossibility of listing every example of amazing theater lighting choice they made is absolutely horrific and nasty so i'll just lost some my my favorites:

the cyc! i mentioned before but the cyc they used on away missions was only painted when they needed a specific scene in the background, otherwise? that bitch was LIT. and i LOVE IT.

any of the scenes where they light spock's face have green and half pink? or even just washing the walls behind him? i eat that shit UP. the METAPHOR. the CONFLICT. i will acquiesce that green and pink are (and were) pretty goddamn industry standard gels (color-films) to add to lights, for subtle contrast, but this is not subtle. it is LOUD. was it purposefully done from a storytelling perspective? no idea. is it cool as shit and interpret-able as hell? absolutely. also sometimes they do it with just green when they want to emphasize his vulcan-ness and other him a bit. like they do it a lot when he's in his room in amok time. anyway.

whenever they shutter a light so they can emphasize a character's (kirk, we're talking abt kirk here. and *sometimes* spock, and also Charlie in Charlie X but yeah mostly kirk) eyes when they say something #Deep, or just pre-commercial break closure worthy line. it's so SHJSDJBFEJNKN. to add onto this, they'll do a striking half-wash over half of their face sometimes in conjunction and it looks So Good

The GOBOS. sometimes, they'll just throw light through a gobo, or wall screen, or something, for /visual interest/ and it looks so silly i love it sm. does it make sense from a realism pov? nO. but star trek is a theater production actually and they lit everything using mainly naturalistic techniques! amazing!

honorable mentions: the glowing time donut, and the entirely random colors in the hallway.

there are so many other examples but this post is long enough lmao. notice the lights next time you watch tos!!,! please!!! <3

[darkbluekies]

How I think my OCs would react to having an extrovert / social darling

Introvert version

Silas: 

He feels bad for you. You always ask to join him on missions because you’re sick of being alone, but he always has to decline you. You’re not safe in the outside world. The few times he brings you with him, he has to make sure you don’t indulge too much in his world. He never wants you to be a part of it.

“I know you’re angry with me for locking you in here all the time, but it’s for your own good, baby. You know that, don’t you? I know you don’t like being alone, but what should I do? You can call me, you know that. You don’t want to talk to me? … that’s not my problem, is it?”

Dr Kry:

This man would be so stressed! You’d break out of your room during the times you should be napping to talk to other patients in the patients lounge. He’d find you having discussions with people of all ages and genders about whatever stuff you could come up with. He hates it all. He wants to be the only one talking to you. 

“Stand up now. No, now! Come on. God, Y/N, you’re worse than a jail prisoner breaking out. Why can’t you just stay in your bed? Why do you have to make my life so hard? I don’t want you to speak to other patients. They’re not clear in the head, some of them are really weird. They’ll only make you worse. Just listen to me in the future. You know I want what’s best for you.”

King Edmund:

It’d make his life so much easier! Every little thing he has to go on, he knows he has you behind his back. But it worries him too. You seem to be getting along with everyone and it terrifies him. You’re his! Only his. 

“Y/N, stop talking to that man. I don’t like it and you know it. If you want to come out of the castle more often, you should obey me. Or maybe you want to be locked in the chamber again? No? Stop talking to that man.”

Jerry:

If you were an extrovert she’d bring you along to parties and clubs. You’d see a different side to Jerry than the one you’re used to. She’d be dancing and drinking, smiling and laughing. And for once, she’d treat you like her lover and not like her property. When Jerry drinks, she becomes a softer version of herself and would want to be with you without being passive aggressive. 

“Kiss me. Do it! No, I’m not joking. I’ve been eyeing you all evening and you look so divine! If you don’t kiss me now I’ll drag you out on the dance floor and force you to freestyle.”

Hedwig: 

Oh. She’d hate it. She’s the popular one, the one everyone likes. If you take her place, she’d feel threatened by you and do things she wouldn’t want to do. Like lock you in her house and keep you for herself where no one else could see how wonderful you actually are. 

“I’m sorry, love, I really am! I know the chains hurt. I know you don’t like them. Please don’t cry, I brought you your favorite snacks! Open your mouth. Please. Please, I’m trying to make things right. I just want you to be mine …”

[tsarinatorment]

Hi, Tsari! I am quite new to the Trials of Apollo fandom and new to the whole Percy Jackson Universe in general. I have already read some of your fics and they are all so beautifully written with the perfect wording and eloquence. All those heart-warming scenes that totally could fit in the actual books always warm my heart. Thank you.

I have a question though. Sorry if you've already answered something similar.

So, I'm thinking a lot about that scene where Apollo admits he forgot Yan, Gracie and Jerry's existence and I think that's only because of the whole mortal brain is so weak thing. He cares about his children even before they would arrive at Camp. As the God of Knowledge, he must remember everything especially people he loves. So, do you think would he feel embarrassment or guilt after ascending into Godhood again?

I think he would definitely apologize to them and basically re-introduce himself and would tell them he loves them no matter what happens and he is so proud of them how they handled themselves at Nero's tower. I just imagine a cute scene with lots of tears from the kids as well as from him. Also, first his kids would be definitely worried why a powerful God would want to talk to them. They don't know Apollo yet and Will or any other of their older siblings one day would just nonchalantly drop the bomb that they should go to the cabin bc Apollo is waiting for them to talk about something. They would definitely be terrified even if they got some stories about how Apollo is a chill, lay back father. But knowing something and experiencing something is two different things.

Oh, the angst, can you imagine? Poor Apollo is already on the edge blaming himself for his stupid mistake thinking he would never be able to repair their relationship and the first thing he notices that his kids are afraid of him. And then throughout the scene everything resolves and the kids understand that they are allowed and encouraged to express their real feelings and opinions even if that is not so flattening or respectful towards their father. And now they know what their older siblings mean when they say their father is different from the other Gods. So, happy end. Sorry for the long ask.

So, the actual ask is that do you think would he apologize and if yes, how would he do?

I don't know I just love that 3 new kids and there are so little stories about them. I just need them be cute with Apollo. Apollo is a good father and he cares about all of his children.

Hello! Welcome to the fandom, and I'm glad you're enjoying my stuff (I've spotted your name in my emails quite a lot recently; very much appreciated :D)

The TON Trio, as they're usually nicknamed, are fascinating on several levels, because of how they appear and what Apollo says about them, and while it's not something you mentiooned specifically in your ask, the first big question that always crops up with me about them is - how were they claimed?

Like, clearly they are - they're in Cabin Seven, no-one has any doubts that they're his kids - but also, they arrived while he was a mortal. Apollo himself couldn't have claimed them, but if they were still unclaimed they'd be in Cabin Eleven, even if they knew in advance that they were Apollo kids, because camp can't run the risk of putting kids in gods' cabins on their own word because what if the kid is lying? You'll have offended gods left, right and centre and that's not a good thing.

Apollo, ofc, we know would be delighted to let any kids stay in his cabin if he could, but camp politics (or more likely, Zeus' paranoia) has said no, and that still doesn't equate for the slighted gods whose offspring they actually were, etc... But I digress a bit here.

So: Apollo is mortal, Apollo cannot claim his kids, but his kids have still been claimed. This is where my various thoughts about Apollo being the patron of the camp etc. come into play, but specifically the headcanon I have that none of his kids have ever spent a night unclaimed in the camp - the theory that makes the most sense to me, personally, about how the TON trio were claimed, is that Apollo, when first setting the camp's protective borders up (because he was clearly involved with that), built in some sort of catch-all, where the camp can claim his kids on his behalf if he doesn't do it by sundown etc. Given he's the camp's founder, I don't think it's unrealistic to assume that would have been possible to set up, and it also explains how the TON trio are claimed without his personal intervention.

Why did Apollo set something like that up? Because he is, honestly, a good father (by god standards - he is, of course, a terribly neglectful one by mortal standards, but he's very clearly the best of the godly parents, as evidenced by how his kids act around him compared to what we see with other godly parent-demigod child relationships, yes, even Percy and Poseidon, but that is an essay for another time I see that ask in my inbox about their relationship, person who asked; I will get there eventually). His kids adore him, Will is not afraid to call him out on things, Will is not afraid to call out people trying to claim Apollo wants them all dead (see: BOO) even when his dad's been silent for months...

And this all suggests that Apollo is very present in his kids lives (again, by god standards). Will points out that Apollo not answering prayers for a month is weird enough that it worries the cabin, and I don't see why Apollo's dream visits needed to start when they arrived at camp.

So this is a headcanon of mine, admittedly, but I think Apollo lingers in his kid's dreams periodically their entire lives. They just don't know it's Apollo that happens to be the reoccurring figure in their dreams until they get to camp and he can finally introduce himself.

Where does this fit in with the TON trio? Well, this headcanon of mine means that Apollo's been in contact with them since they were very young, too. They don't know it was him, they don't know their absent father is a god, but the contact is there - and then it stops, but it's just dreams so maybe they grew out of that particular dream?

But then they get to camp, they're claimed as Apollo's kids and told by Will, Austin and Kayla about what's happening to their dad at the time. They learn second-hand about the figure in their dreams, and maybe they're disappointed or even resentful that they didn't hear it first-hand, like their siblings did, but they learn.

Then Apollo gets to camp, and he doesn't really recognise them but they don't recognise him, either. This isn't the sunshine goof in their dreams, this is some average-looking teenager with a broken nose that they first saw passed out like a loser in their cabin. It's awkward all around.

Apollo even comments on that, that none of them really react to him, either as their father or as a god. It's all a bit awkward and stilted between them and it's not the meeting any of them, TON trio or Apollo, were hoping for.

So yes, I do think that after this is all over, he spent time with them, back in the form they were familiar with (while this was never mentioned in the epilogue, he definitely spent time with all his kids, not just Will, so it would've happened them). Introduced himself properly, with all the recollections of them back in his mind, possibly even re-claimed them, so they knew that they were, without any doubt, both his and loved.

I don't think they were ever scared of him, though. It's a little hard to be scared of someone you've always known, even if you didn't know it at the time, and also of someone you've seen so low in their own life, especially when your siblings are so comfortable and happy with them.

Not the arrival at camp they deserved, or that Apollo wanted for them, or that in hindsight they wanted, either. But in the end, a little bit out of order, it would have happened.

[elasticitymudflap]

If Betty returns in season two, what kind of plot lines and character arcs would you like to see for her? Which characters do you want to see her interact with?

oh man. okay buckle up because you are about to endure my full frontal autism.

first you're going to have to go into this post knowing that i am insane about betty grof. i am aware of this. but they also called me crazy back in 2012 when i said simon and betty probably loved each other very much despite the fact she disappeared, and that she was probably a huge chaotic badass, AND I WAS RIGHT so.

all of this aside, here are a couple things i think would be epic and sexy of them to address:

~betty's past~

GIRL WHY ARE YOU LIKE THIS.

no, seriously. i hate that the cut content from the storyboards revealed so much about her that didn't make the final 'jerry' cut. betty is passionate, intense, and liked simon's work because he was this weird little guy who proudly had all these "out there" theories. she even stated that "ancient magic" was once her major, so it's no fucking wonder she was so jazzed to find the one other guy who studied and believed in the strange things she did.

how did betty come to have these strange beliefs, and to the point of pursuing it in fucking grad school? was she just always like this? did her interests and beliefs put her at odds with others when she was growing up, little miss dig-her-way-down-to-the-devil, and that's part of the reason she wanted all the more to support simon?

reading that scene in temple of mars where magic betty laments "what remains" of her original self after spending so long dedicated to simon, even if you take into account the way MMS is warping her perspectives and cranking her obsessive tendencies to 11, i find it hard to believe betty didn't grow up with some kind of instability or trauma that made her more prone to throw herself completely at someone who showed her genuine love and kindness. this isn't necessarily a fault on simon's part, he probably didn't even clock it because he was so caught up with trying not to fuck things up with her (he's got his own issues). but it definitely seems like this is something deeply coded into her being, especially when you consider she was willing to leave everything she knew behind in an instant for him.

and i NEED to know more about the wacky shit she was up to in ooo, before and after becoming magic betty. did she ever go to wizard city? did other wizards even know about her? what does she think about her time as magic betty? moreover, how the hell did king man even get betty to agree to his weird idea of cognitive behavioural therapy?? how did she actually go from literally willing to kill herself via time travel to actually accepting that she needed help getting over simon?? did prismo and the cosmic owl get involved?? what is their connection to king man and mars anyway, i mean we know grob gob glob grod hung out with them?? do you think betty knew at any point about simon's head holding the fionna and cake universe?? SO MANY QUESTIONS RAAARRGHGHHGHH

also, not to get super sappy, but i want to see the enchiridion expedition from her perspective!! i want to see her progression from 'hell yeah im going on an adventure with that guy whose research i admire' to 'oh my god i love his stupid ass help????'.

~betty's guilt (feat. regrets)~

i don't care what the alternate bus stop scene said, you will never convince me betty grof has "no regrets". i think she has 'no regrets' in terms of loving simon, and she would never want him to think that she regrets their relationship because of what it "did" to her (turned her into a kaiju). i think this scene was betty trying to give simon a modicum of closure by reassuring him of that fact, and trying to help him reckon with the fact that there's no going back and changing how things ended up for the two of them; from here on out they can only move forward.

that being said, we know that betty will often push simon into doing things she thinks are best for him, whether he wants these things or not, such as not getting held up by snakes or not dying. she's a quick thinker and a risk taker who doesn't like looking at the 'big picture', and these are things she's probably very aware about herself.

i think, in the 12 years that they were apart, betty probably had a lot of time to reflect on her decisions after the crown came into their lives. how her hubris in trying to study magic ended up in her becoming "magic betty", how magic betty nearly ended/condoned the end of the world multiple times, how she ultimately did cure simon but almost killed him in the process. most of all, you cannot convince me betty wouldn't agonize over how her split-second decision to jump into the future affected simon. you really think betty fucking grof would've have been totally unaffected by the revelation that simon spent nearly ten human lifetimes agonizing over driving her away?

in her last interaction with him, magic betty's recklessness cured them... only to then be grotesquely crushed to death inside of golb. but he didn't get upset with her, he didn't panic, he didn't even fight it, he just... gave in. there's this air of acceptance to him, an acceptance that comes after prolonged and complicated grief, that i'd argue, wasn't the culmination of being cured, but the culmination of his long and painful battle over losing her; he was content to die as long as he was with her. that must have been... really something for her to mull over.

i could easily see her developing a bit of a complex over it. i think it would be fascinating to see a betty who now, after all the dust as settled, has looked at their history and concluded that she was the common denominator in all of this, that she is bad for simon, that in a way she is a "curse" to him. and that it would be the perfect justification for her staying away from him all these years, thinking without her influence he could finally move on from her and live the rest of his human life happily with his new magic future friends.

i don't think betty has necessarily "moved on" from simon, i think she still loves him dearly... but as i said, thoroughly convinced she'll only damage him further if she keeps trying to pursue him, and that simon's breakdown during season 1 was only more evidence to that fact.

i think she's trying to lead him to get over her 'for his own good', and that she's purposefully being vague and simplifying conclusions about their relationship so he doesn't try to fight her on it like he always does when she makes these huge decisions for them. she's not bringing any of the stuff she actually regrets up with him because only betty sees it as a problem. simon is so enamoured with her he probably wouldn't even entertain the possibility that she had negative effect on him, but he would believe the reverse in a heartbeat.

this isn't me saying they're ""toxic"" at all, i'm saying that these are two very damaged people who would benefit from multiple types of therapy. and that, as they are, they currently are more likely to keep going in loops with unhealthy behaviours and blaming themselves ad infinitum rather than try to reckon with how they can change, and how it is a problem that they'll always do it for the other, but never for themselves.

even if all of my above ramblings turn out to be bunk: betty grof needs some kind of therapy for her pre-existing self sacrificial tendencies and self worth issues, a space for her to process and work through all of the things that happened to her in ooo, couple's counselling, and the biggest blunt known to man.

you might be wondering "emery, why are you talking about her like she isn't beyond such things? she's golb now, the embodiment of chaos! her ""arc"" is over."

~golbetty conspiracy theory time~

i'm not entirely convinced betty is golbetty as we've come to understand her. i stand by this with my crumbs of a conspiracy theory in that when simon first did the ritual, it was ORIGINAL golb's face that flashed over the scene (not golbetty or even the statue's face), and how golbetty seemed to transform back into Golb Classic after she blew simon away into the void. there's also this weird thing where golbetty had these holes or rips on her leg when she rotated; i thought it was an animation error but then it was also in the storyboards so idk what to believe...

plus the boards ive seen seem to only refer to them as "GOLB", never 'GOLBetty', which i just find... interesting

and i keep thinking about simon info-dumping about golb to betty in the 'come along with me' flashback and the specific wording that was used: "imagine if we could somehow harness all that dank energy..." and then comparing it to the specific wording of betty's wish "... however it has to happen, I wish for the power to keep Simon safe"

there's a couple lines in 'you forgot your floaties' regarding betty's work before becoming magic betty that i feel often get overlooked, one being how tiny manticore describes the situation as "she thinks she can save her BF, Simon, by finding the source of magic," and in betty's own words: "studying [magic madness and sadness] could lead me to their underlying cause, and then I'll control the forces that hold sway over Simon"

i've always wondered if part of the reason betty's wishes to "banish golb from this world/for golb to disappear" didn't work was not just because they didn't tap into her heart's deepest wish (keeping simon safe), but because a wish like that would also require some kind of fundamental change to the laws of the universe first in order for it to work. magic betty even references golb as "the most powerful force in the universe," so how would the crown ever hope to compete with that? according the ancient candy elemental, wish magic has the potential to cause "irreversible damage to the very structure of existence". maybe the crown itself couldn't banish golb with a simple wish, but it could restructure the world to create someone who was powerful enough to control even golb, if only it were structured through the correct wishing language.

and it would make total sense for betty to become that person.

i've been thinking about the way the candy elemental tries to warn evergreen from using the crown: "this wish may see things in you you cannot see yourself, can you truly say you know your heart's truest desire?"

i wonder if there may have been two elements to betty's wish, and the part of it that betty "didn't see in herself" was her worded in the language of "power"; betty's desire to gain control over forces of the universe no human could ever hope to fight against, let alone win.

she spent her human life fascinated by ancient magic, fighting to get her's and simon's work recognized as valid and worthwhile. then, she's suddenly in the future, fighting to stop simon from dying, physically fighting at times, and fighting to find a way to gain control over these "forces" that held him prisoner. she essentially is fighting to become the conqueror of magic, madness, and sadness... and she fails, becomes a victim of it. and it all goes downhill from there, the loss of control over herself, over her mind, over her goals, yet the most 'betty' thing about her is that she's still fighting, albeit a bit crooked and to the detriment of all else. in the end, she's even fighting with herself, fighting to remember who she even is without the fight, not even sure if that person exists anymore.

and then she's freed, suddenly, from the confines of MMS to the literal confines of a quickly shrinking prison. when you watch the two of them in that scene, she isn't fighting to escape the same way finn is literally fighting the wall, but you can tell she's not giving up. part of her is still fighting to think of a way out, even when it feels like there's absolutely no hope left.

her desire "for the power" could mean, in a sense, to have the ability to be in control of all that she couldn't at one time or another: time, fate, magic, life, death, chaos... but this was articulated through her love for simon, because it's the only way she probably even recognizes it within herself.

this is why i don't entirely think betty and golb are fused, or that betty is solely "golbetty". i think being "fused" with no possibility of escape would be antithetical to the language and possible wider implications of her wish. this is why i think she's something above even golb, like a being with the ability to possess/harness the power of other deities. and i think she does this specifically in scenarios where simon is in immediate danger and she needs to control them or harness their power in order to protect him.

i'm ready to be proven wrong, and i probably will be. still, i rotate these thoughts in my head at a dangerous velocity, and none of you can stop me.

~ok i'm done ill stop being insane now (lying)~

so to... actually answer your question, i REALLY want betty to meet fionna and cake, because it sounds to me like they remind simon a lot of her. i would just love to see the absolute fucking tornado they'd be when put in a room together.

also, obviously first and foremost, I NEED BETTY TO TALK TO MARCELINE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! PLEASE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

anyway, as far as season 2 goes, something is definitely up with prismo. and since he's guardian/creator of multiverse entities, who the fuck knows what that means for the fabric of existence if he's glitching out.

all im saying is, i wouldn't be surprised if our main trio end up having to save the multiverse and have to do so with help from other... entities. bettities, even. (hehe. bettity)

[t0ast-ghost]

Here’s my thoughts on Star Trek V: The Final Frontier

There’s swear words, star trek, and spoilers oh my!

Start it up:

- “The planet of galactic peace.” Somehow. I don’t believe that.

- This guy on his horse looks like death

- “Let us explore it together.” Come take my hand. Let us take ibuprofen together.

- It’s hard to dislike Sybok when he smiles like that so they have to add in a somewhat evil laugh

- Epic music is a go (Music by Jerry Goldsmith)

- “‘You’ll be able to relax’ you call this relaxing? I’m a nervous wreck. If I’m not careful I’ll end up talking to myself.” Kirk convinced him to come here and now he has to watch his idiot husband climb a rock

- Kirk knows Spock and McCoy are there to catch him when he falls but goddamnit if they aren’t both really tired of his shit

- No but seriously what is with science fiction and thinking ‘yeah there’s a race of cat people’ looking at you too doctor who

- Caithlin Dar is awesome already.. I don’t trust Talbot (edit: haha too bad they’re characters don’t really do anything anyway)

- Scotty narrating is my favourite actually

- UHURA IS AWESOME

- are Uhura and Scotty dating?

- “Admit it. We’re lost!” “All right, we’re lost. But we’re making good time.” Didn’t know I needed Sulu and Chekov to go hiking together but I do

- “Yes uh- yes, we’ve been caught in a blizzard.” *Chekov starts blowing into the microphone* god I love them. He just went with it!

- Bones ringing the triangle out of spite and love

- The husbands sitting down and eating beans. Why would they make star trek about literally anything else

- Coming back strong with the extra wh sound (it was in the last movie when McCoy said whales)

- The trivia panel is telling me that one of the goofs is Kirk calling Tennessee whiskey bourbon and it looks like something Spock would write

- McCoy laughing and talking about Spock’s Vulcan metabolism and Spock indulging by saying he’s also half human and McCoy responding with “well it certainly doesn’t show” to which he knows Spock’ll take as a compliment. Yes I do need old married mcspirk.

- “You know, you two could drive a man to drink.” Then Kirk with all the innocence and nonchalance in the world says, “me? What did I do?” “What did you do? You really piss me off, Jim.”

- McCoy is lecturing Kirk cause he can’t take anymore of his almost dying bullshit

- “I knew I wouldn’t die because the two of you were with me.” “I do not understand.” “I’ve always known I’ll die alone.” I’m about to cry because this is true. He dies in a distant future without either of them. Thinking about it they all somewhat die alone. Maybe Spock was there for McCoy but we never see his death. And Spock dies in an alternate past :(((

- “It’s a mystery to me what draws us together…Other people have families.” “Other people, Bones, not us.” They are each other’s family.

- SPOCK ROASTING A MARSHMALLOW (not sure why they call it a ‘marsh melon’)

- This is the silliest thing they could have possibly put in a movie (this is like a comfort fic but a movie and I am so here for it)

- “God, I liked him better before he died.” McCoy is getting nasty and Kirk is now like ‘well time to sleep’

- “Life is not a dream.” “Go to sleep, Spock.”

- Why is the head Klingons outfit so cunty. Why’re the Klingons so silly?

- They caught Spock in his jammies

- “Well gentlemen, it seems shore leave has been cancelled.” They can’t go on ONE DATE

- Why’re they huddled together on the ship like that?

- “‘All I ask is a tall ship and a star to steer her by.’” “Melville.” “John Masefield.” “Are you sure about that?” “I am well versed in the classics, Doctor.” “Then how come you don’t know Row, Row, Row Your Boat?” Spock makes the most frowny and tired face imaginable. I think McCoy was justified in biting back there cause imagine you wake up, get in a shuttle, and then get corrected. All I’m saying is Spock was being a bit of a know it all (wouldn’t have him any other way)

- “*laughs* I don’t think I’ve ever seen him happier.” McCoy is so jolly in this one

- The yeoman with Kirk’s jacket is played by Shatner’s daughter

- HE ACTUALLY HAS A SHIRT THAT SAYS ‘go climb a rock.’ omg

- That fucking outfit oh my goodness

- “What’s the matter, Jim?” “I miss my old chair.” And then it switches to Spock who’s going :[

- Love how the Klingons all know who Kirk is. Like he’s THAT important

- Aww Kirk can’t write his diary :((

- Their silhouettes are so cute (34:06) (also they look like how aliens coming out of a spaceship look, I just think that’s neat)

- McCoy has to turn on the lights like, ‘stop sulking in the damn dark.’

- “Imagine that, a passionate Vulcan.” What McCoy? You want Spock to be more passionate?

- “This is Captain Pavel Chekov speaking.” He’s so silly for that. But also it’s probably best he doesn’t say ‘acting captain’ as that would arouse suspicion cause as everyone knows the captain is always the first to go on dangerous away missions

- What’s going on? Why is Uhura dancing ? What.

- What. Was. That. Scene. Why.

- “Spock.” “Yes, captain?” “Be one with the horse.” “Yes, captain.” Oookay

- “Hold your horse, captain.” Good one.

- Spock just. He just nerve pinched that horse.

- Spock does not know how to deal with seeing his estranged brother again (yeah I was spoiled) so, “you are under arrest for seventeen violations of the neutral zone treaty.” Is what he went with

- Sybok complimented and then winked at Kirk HE IS TAKEN

- “We’re going to forego the tractor beam and fly her in manually.” “Manually?” “How often have you done this?” “Actually it’s my first attempt.” Personally wouldn’t trust anyone else to attempt that other than Sulu. He is THAT bitch (/pos)

- EXPLOSION!!!!! CRASHHHH

- whooo space stuff! Sorry the photon torpedo just missing as the enterprise went into warp was cool

- Spock’s got a gun!

- McCoy comes out of the ship and is so confused and looks to Spock and Kirk

- Ohhh no. Sybok is gonna do his thingy magic thing to Sulu and Uhura with Scotty watching ‘em from above

- “What you have done is betray every man on this ship.” “Worse. I have betrayed you. I do not expect you to forgive me.” “Forgive you? I ought to knock you on your goddamn ass.” “If you think it would help.” “You want me to hold him, Jim?” “You stay out of this. Why, Spock? Why?” Lots to think about in this dialogue. But I think McCoy offering to hold Spock is him going ‘Jim you’re overreacting can’t you see he’s already remorseful?’ I could be misreading but if you understand it as the idea of McCoy holding him down is so redundant because Spock is strong enough to get out of his grasp easily but probably wouldn’t resist in this moment then it’s just like aughhhhhh

- Also Kirk asking Spock to shoot someone is bad enough. But the fact that it was his brother…

- Kirk is in disbelief. He didn’t know his own husband has a brother (half brother technically. Same Spock same.)

- “Stop it, Jim! Spock could no more kill his own brother than he could kill you. If you want to punish him for what he’s done, why don’t you throw him in the brig? Besides, we’ve got bigger problems to deal with.” Bones not only defending Spock, but also getting them back on track

- Apparently both Gene Roddenberry and William Shatner didn’t like that Sybok was Spock’s brother. Roddenberry didn’t think that Sarek would have a child with another woman (I kinda agree but also Pon Farr would’ve made him become engaged to a Vulcan before he met Amanda, so it’s not completely unthinkable). And Shatner didn’t like it cause it was too much like ‘a soap opera plot line’ but they went with it so that Spock’s actions made sense with the way he acted towards Sybok. I personally like that Spock has siblings he never told anyone about. It’s funny.

- lmao this time Kirk gets to stand on top of Spock to reach something (See patterns of force)

- Spock talking about himself in the third person because he doesn’t want to admit that he couldn’t get out of the brig

- “The bond between these three is strong, difficult to penetrate. This will be quite a challenge.” IT’S CAUSE THEY’RE MARRIED

- It’s funny that- canonically - Sybok can sense a really strong bond between them

- Kirk and McCoy’s ass I mean- oh look it’s Spock. With rocket boots!

- Spock holding onto Kirk and McCoy for their dear lives

- “I believe I overshot the mark by one level.” “Nobody’s perfect.” McCoy keeps saying this to Spock and I think it’s healing. Also flirting.

- They’re lit really nicely

- McCoy is NOT having this “Sounds like brainwashing to me.” You’re so right, back OFF Sybok

- (drawable moment 1:08:17)

- “Your pain is the deepest of all. I can feel it. Can’t you?” OH WAIT WE GET TO SEE MCCOYS PAIN WHAT

- I have no words for this scene. Holy Shit.

- Forced therapy

- Oh they all get to see each others pain cause they’re connected

- Spock gets to see his own birth… why. What.

- young Sarek 😧😳😳😳

- “So human.” YOU FUCKED THE HUMAN SAREK. God he’s such a bitch.

- SPOCK FOR THE WIN!! He’s not leaving

- MCCOYS STAYING WITH HIS HUSBANDS!!! YEAH LETS GOOO! (Personally I don’t think McCoy would go with Sybok at all, but I wasn’t sure what the writers were gonna do and I was scared they would make him leave)

- I know we’ve moved on from this but maybe Sarek saying that Spock was human was like saying ‘he’s got your eyes’ like comparing Spock to Amanda in appreciation. We’ll never know but it’s still a bitchass thing to say.

- Kirk has a plaque with ‘To boldly go where no man has gone before’ what a nerd

- They’re really hot in their uniforms

- hi god

- Kirk wants to ID god. Fair enough.

- There’s McCoy in the corner. Losing his religion

- “I doubt a God who inflicts pain for his own pleasure.” YEAH McCoy’s not standing for this shit

- Oh so Sybok wasn’t the enemy. Yeah that’s a good ending for his character. Saying bye to sock and asking for forgiveness

- “Beam up Spock and Dr. McCoy now.” “Now, just a damn minute-” Kirk said that so fast so that his husbands couldn’t argue with him

- “I am a foolish old man.” “Damn you, sir. You will try.” Spock ain’t fucking around. Also he picked up a couple of words from McCoy

- “I thought I was going to die.” “Not possible, you were never alone.” Throw me out an airlock I need some air

- SORRY the immediate moment after that was SO MUCH WORSE “Please, captain. Not in front of the Klingons.” THEY WERE ABOUT TO MAKE OUT SLOPPY

- “Cosmic thoughts, gentlemen?” “We were speculating. Is god really out there?” They were having a nice quiet conversation and it’s a shame they didn’t show it :(

- KIRK TALKING ABOUT SAM??? Oh no he was implying it was Spock

- this ending- I’m not okay.

Unfortunately I really enjoyed this one. William Shatner made a movie that was so shippy and was oblivious to it the entire time.

I know it took a really long time for me to post this one because I wanted to watch undiscovered country first, I haven’t watched it yet but I felt I needed to finally edit and post this one. I hope you enjoyed my silly little thoughts.

Star trekking across the universe. Get that stuck in your head.

Masterpost

[skekthesilly]

im playing demo 3 right NEOW!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! this is gonna be so peaksauce

me gaming under cut (spoilers for demo 3)

4:18 pm, dec 16: ghostwalker??? oooo.... that sounds epicsauce.............. haunted manor you say???? dont mind if i do

4:19: just noticed that my name in shedletsky's dialogue is the same color as when he mentioned some "they're". just an observation. is this important? i dunno. maybe???

4:23:

4:31: IS THAT AMONG US AND LOSS??????????

4:38: DR TRAYAURUS MENTIONED!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

4:54: i love them <3

WAIT I LOVE THIS WAIT???????? WAIT??????? OMG??????

4:57: GREEN AND OURPLE????????????????

5:01: i heart noobador. epicsauce uncle

5:04: oh i did not process that green and purple were red n blues's parents or something like that. "talk about abuse!" oh. oh. you. dont do this to my poor heart

5:10: my siblings told me i can get a special card from cruel king if i kill him a bunch. i feed so bad for him bro hes having a mental breakdown the more i kill him. EVERYONE IN BLACKROCK IS FINE!!!!!!!!!!!!!! THEYRE OKAY!!!!!!!!!!! DO YOU HEAR ME!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! THEYRE OKAY!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

5:15: "you dont have to go through this alone" cruel king do you understand how much i platonically love you right now. tgat sentence struck me with the force of a military fighter jet. oh my god

5:27: currently beating up bubonic plant !!!!

4:12 pm, dec 21: been a bit. played for a bit and got to the manor before remembering i was supposed to post my progress here. anyways, recap of my reactions from last playthru to now:

apparently bubonic plant doesnt drop a call card. shame. i fought them like 30 times i counted

went to go traverse the cemetery!!! also all the old opponents from ch 1 are here but zombies now. is that because of me??? aw man

shoutout to the pumpkins

theres food EVERYWHERE. i guess the zombies need to eat too

found a bunch of bux on the way to the manor and felt really good about myself

butler. why are you green. are you a zombie too

omg its the girl!!!!!!!! the woman from turtle police!!!!! or whatever the place was called!!!! also zamn is her sister okay????

ummm appaerntly im not ok??? theres voices in my head???? because of the swords???? okay. casually foreshadowing. okay. fun fun

WHAT THE FUCK THERES RED TEXT NOW???? WHAT DO YOU MEAN "GET IT" "YOURE WASTING YOUR TIME" IS THIS THE "HATRED" MY SIBLINGS WERE TALKING ABOUT??? OK. LISTEN UP BUDDY. I LOVE ALL THE CHARACTERS IN THIS GODDAMN GAME DEARLY AND I WISH TO INTERACT WITH EVERY SINGLE ONE OF THEM. FUCK YOU

LIKE I THOUGHT THIS WAS JUST A HAHA FUNNY... I THOUGHT THE KIDS WERE TELLING ME TO FIND THE TOILET PAPER WHAT THE FUCKKK?????? GET OUT OF MY HEAD GET OUT OF MY HEAD GET OUT OF MY HEAD GET OUT OF MY HEAD GET OUT OF MY

thats about it

4:22: is this foreshadowing

4:23: why can you jump off of the balcony. is this intentional??? is this an accident??? is there a secret?????

4:26: yo witch?????? you know shedletsky????? also i noticed telamon and shedletsky have the same color name. theyre probably the same guy. maybe. i dunno. shedlesky's last name is probably telamon or smth like that

4:29: awww terry n jerry.... duo..... thats so sweet....

4:31: what the FUCK is going on someone BETTER FUCKING TELL ME or i am going to TEAR THIS MANSION TO THE BROUND WITH MY TEETH what do you mean the only options are dont tell him and LIE. what the FUCK are you trying t o TELL ME HERE i feel like fucking KRIS DELTARUNE im gonna CRASH OUT

4:34: expanding on the entry above: "you live a life of lies you better start believing it" ok. so im a little silly in th e head. ok. fine. whatever. fuck you. im gonna crash out and the only life im gonna live is the one six feet under after i accidentally skewer myself on a wooden pole while bashing the manor into itty bitty bits. fuck you

4:38: what the fuck is happening to me dude. what does this fucking game want from me. what do you mean i look dead. what do you mean im hearing shit. what do you mean. what do you MEAN. i need ANSWERS and i need them NOW or i SWEAR TO ALL THE GODS ABOVE

7:28 PM, Dec 22: GUESS WHO FORGOT TO POST THEIR PROGRESS AGAIN

went into the basement. so there's just a whole ass forest and graveyard in here??? cool

ugghhghghgh i NEED TO GET BETTER AT DODGING

got into the haunted manor and IS EVERYONE DEAD??????????? FUUUUCK

thats it

7:29: there's a thing guarding the ghost walker and it scares you???? ha ha ha tf2 reference dies

7:34: i love you tutorial terry

7:43: i love all of these dead guys. they're so whimsical. this childish wonder at seeing a living breathing robloxian makes me want to hug every single one of them

7:46: oh i already know, buddy. believe me. i know its gonna be VERY hateful. my siblings couldnt help but tell me themselves. but thank you for your foreshadowing anyways

7:48: hey so like what the fuck

im so hyped. also 7 CHAPTERS???????? DO YOU UNDERSTAND HOW HAPPY THAT MAKES ME FEEL. ok lemme yap for a bit

ever since i saw deltarune and saw that it was planned to have 7 chapters, my mind has been HARD-WIRED to expect EXACTLY 7 chapters from any game that uses a chapter system. if i doesnt have 7 chapters i get so incredibly upset. poppy playtime? needs to have 7 chapters or else it'll be all wrong. garten of banban? fuck it. needs to have 7 chapters. havent checked on it for a while so it's probably got more than that now (fuck). indigo park? 7 chapters or i'm ending it all (joke). literally i need 7 chapters from everything or else i feel genuine panic that something bad is going to happen to me and i get this horrible feeling in my head and skin. its so weird like what the fuck

(edit fron 10:36, dec 24: skek those are literally the sword fight on the heights swords are you stupid. how did you not recognize that. buddy. pal. buddy.)

7:54: i love you kitchen wizard

7:56: GHOST OTION!!!!!! also i can't touch the ghostwalker? okay dokay. we might be fucked!!!! hip hip hooray!!!! my dumbass will ABSOLUTELY touch that goddamn sword

only those of pure sould can wield it? um . i have voices in my head. i don't think i qualify

oh so i just die if i touch it. sweet

omg kitchen wizard cares about me..... i love you kitchen wizard 🥹🥹🥹🥹🥹🥹🥹🥹🥹🥹 i m sniffling and weeping all over your kitchen im so sorry its just. im. you. you. i. you. me. gas station. what are we getting for dinner? sushi of course! uh oh! th

8:00: tutorial terry you are so pure i believe you. you have a little brother and everything

8:01: oh my goodness i just moved the giant statues . i suddenly feel an urge to go "oh my goodness im so sorry i didnt mean to move the statues im sorry"

8:03: oh i see now. its a puzzle. nevermind

8:07: ohhh i dnt have a good feeling about this. there's a heal pad right next to me which means there's a boss/mini boss coming up

8:09: woah. masked man from the thumbnail of the new demo. coooool......

8:11: HYPERBALL!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! GROUND POUND!!!!!!!!! LETS FUCKING GOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

2:59, dec 23: im actually so stupid. yknow the room with the moving spikes??? for a whole 5 mins i didnt realize i needed ghost potion

3:01: no dont you dare touch that sword. dont you dare dont ou dare DONT YOU DSRE DONT DO IT DONT oh thank f DONT DO IT FUUUUUUCKKKKKKKKKKKKKK

oh hi builderman

3:02: come to terms with my negative traits? either i die or i succeed. win win situation buddy lets do this

3:03: so you're gonna be my therapist now? you better be good

3:06: WHAT THE FUCK THIS IS SO COOL?????????????

3:08: woaaahh. what the fuck. i need a whole game that looks like this dude. also . avarice? rice? i love rice

3:09: i think im madly in love with demo 3 actually

3:13: why are the yous yellow. like telamon. and shedletsky. foreshadowing?

3:17: i love this i love this i love this ARGHHHHHHHHHHH THIS IS SO COOL???????????????!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! GRRRR SCREAMS CRIES

3:21: greed i think im madly in love with you get your ass over here so we can platonically make out OUGGGHHH IM AETHETICALLY ATTRACTED TO YOU RIGHT NOW. YOU LOOK SO COOL IM WEEPING AND CRYING I M BAJGKTHUGNERHVYEVHVGSNMIDJFMGCJIDIGJ SHITS CRIES LITERALLY JUMPS OFF OF A SPEEDING TRAIN

3:24: builderman whenever you say I it wiggles. what does this mean

oh we're gonna face isolation now? fun. my favorite

3:25: DUCKIES!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

3:29: F!!!!!!!!!!!!!

3:32: wow. that is a really really big duck

3:34: oh this is such a cool puzzle. oh this is so cool. how do they KEEP COMING UP WITH THIS!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

3:36: ohhh buddy boy who do i miss??? well buddy boy this is real fun isnt it

the orange you (builderman) turned hatred red. fun fun!!!

3:38: FUCKING BREAKCORE OH MY GOD OH MY GOD OH MY GOD OH MY GOD OH MY GOD OH MY GOD OH MY GOD OH MY GOD OH MY GOD OH MY GOD OH MY GOD OH MY GOD OH MY GOD OH MY GOD OH MY GOD OH MY GOD OH MY GOD OH MY GODDDDDDD??????????????????????????????????? YOOOOO

3:41: ouuuughhhh i heart isolation. wah................................ ough.......................... g...................... ourple guy here i come......................................

3:47: woag. flipped the swithc. the. switch. and now there's a buncha symbols in a language i dont knwo. coolsauce

3:49: death? death? in red? like hatred? death?

3:52: did i mention how cool this is

like. ohhhh my god. i love this so so so so so so so much. you cannot even comprehend. im going wild

3:54: wow. wowie wow. im loving the artstyle by the way did i mention that????? this is pretty epicsauce. just saying. fear maze!!!! woooo!!!!!

3:55: writing getting scribblier!!!! oooo!!!! love it when that happens. i just think it looks cool

3:56: KILL your fears? woah. dont use the kill word buddy. thats NOT pg

3:57: it? yeah no i figured that out already by now. builderman's the it. and considering IT is red, builderman's hatred. fun!! we get to fight mr roblox!!!!! hooray!!!!!!!! anyways i need to keep playing, fear!!!!!!!!!!!! lemme at it!!!!!!!!! lemme at you!!!!!!!!!!

i love yuo fear!!!!!!!!!!!!! heart emoji!!!!!!!!!!!

MORE BREAKCORE OH MY GOD OH MY GOD OH MY GOD OH MY GOD OH MY GOD OH MY GOD OH MY GOD OH MY GOD OH MY GOD OH MY GOD OH MY GOD OH MY GOD OH MY GOD OH MY GOD OH MY GOD OH MY GOD OH MY GOD OH MY GOD OH MY GOD OH MY GOD OH MY GOD OH MY GOD OH MY GOD OH MY GOD OH MY GOD OH MY GOD OH MY GOD OH MY GOD OH MY GOD OH MY- GETS SHOT

3:59: GABBA DRUMS????????????? I COULD KISS YOU RIGHT NOW

i need to add this to my playlist. I NEED TO TAKE NOTES!!!!!!!!!! THIS IS SO PEAK???????????????? IM GONNA CRY IM ACTUALLY GONNA CRY THIS IS. AGHRAGHRGAHGR I LOVE THE MUSIC IM GONNA WEEP

4:01: WOAH THAT WAS A COOL EFFECT FOR CALL FOR HELP. SIMPLE BUT COOLSAUCE!!!!!!! the freakin music stopped and everything!!!!!!!!!

4:04: builderman i already knew you were gonna sic me buddy im ready for you pal

ohhhh this is so cool. they even changed the quest name too. leaning on the 4th wall perchance? i love you

4:05: fall into darkness!!!! yippee!!!!!!! hooray!!!!!!!

4:07: the world revolves? revolving? the world revolving? like deltarune? like jevil? the world revolving? jevil is that y

4:11: these goofy silly guys. their names look like bible verses

oh THIS IS SO COOL. HATRED GET OVER HERE SO WE CAN PLATONICALLY MAKE OUT

4:13: i also want to say i love the sound design as well. WELL DONE BLOCK TALES TEAM!!!!!!!! ILY!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! /p

its so funny dude. there's such a well-done creepy atmosphere and stuff but as soon as i win a battle the little jingle plays and its like "good job!! you did it!! im so proud of you!!! hooray!!!"

4:15: "do us all a favor. curl into a ball and wither." i thought you would say kill yourself but im pretty sure that's what you meant bc that wouldnt be very kid friendly for roblox

4:17: fleshy hanging swingset from a tree. you sure this isnt just a metaphor for someone hanging themselves???? buddy????

aw :( i wanted to ride the swing :(

4:20: woah. that is a lot of people in the walls. im impressed. howd you get them in the walls?????

it can fix me??? giggles and twirls my hair.... tee hee... it can make me beautiful??? giggles... is it a girl, perchance????? giggles..... is it a girl??? could we be pookies??? could it really fix me??? giggles....

just like you? oh nevermind

4:24: unwrap the heart??? UNWRAP???? CHRISTMAS CAME EARLY!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! YIPPEE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

omg hatred looks so cooolll!!!!!!!!!!!! that animation was so smooth!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! dude howd block tales go from joy and whimsy to THIS vro. im not complaining in the slightest. wow

4:26: oh this music boutta be fire OH HERE COMES THE DROP

OPJIOHGIRNHIUIORWNHGYUHRWTIMORWIJIYORWL<IYOWRMITKY<

4:27: dude i need to get good. i need to get good really really fast or else im done for

4:42: ok so this fight is gonna take a little bit

4:49: im havin g so much fun guys

4:57: I DID IT!!!!!!!!!!!!! solo on my 5th attempt!!! hooray!!! im a gamer!!! are you guys proud of me??? i am. i'm so proud of me. can we skip and sing merrily together. can we???? stares at you with my big wet unblinking eyes

5:00: i finished the game at exactly 5:00!!! wow wow wow. wow.

FINAL THOUGHTS:

oh my god

DUDE.......... DUDE......

first of all! LOVED the foreshadowing. that was some really good foreshadowing. very clever !!!!

second of all: this was a MAJOR step up in quality. i mean. WOW. like???? this is wild????? this is amazing???? howd they do that. i LOVE the artstyles and the storyline here and. ohhh dont even get me started on the bosses

ohh my god. i DID NOT expect the game to go into 2d. that is super cool. i need more stuff like that. wow. and the animations were so smooth????? im just. im flabbergasted. im dumbfounded.

the mood is so serious too. we go from "ahhaha wacky silly" to "you need to face yourself and come out clean. destroy your hatred and make yourself pure. you can do this" and im just. im. i

this was such a wild ride. god i love this game. i LOVE the fact that i can also see how much the devs love this game too, and it really really shows because holy shit. holy shit

it's come a very long way from when it first released..... im so proud of block tales....

oh and also the MUSIC??????????? THE MUSIC IS SO PEAK. UGHHHH IM CRYING shoutout to the musicians. oh my goodness. they are literally my idols now

but WOW that boss was hard. wow. hatred was not messing around!! i dies 5 times dude... i didnt even die on griefer's 2 phases once.... (we dont talk about how i died to cruel king)

its. its really really amazing. and there's like... i think 4 more planned chapters as well??? if the quality keeps going up like this then. well pluck my nose hairs and send me to alaska /ref we've got a new favorite game on our hands

uggghhh i need to talk about the artstyle. its so CRISPY n SMOOTH and it looks so good and they made the MOOD SO GOOD. atmosphere so good. so spooky. oh they KNEW what they were doing. i want to open up the dev's head and peek at what's inside because how are they all coming up with this

i love block tales. oh my god. shoutout to block tales for being epic. there's more stuff i wanna keep talking about but I CANT REMBER IT ALL 😭😭😭😭😭🥺🥺🥺

BONUS STUFF HAPPENING NOW!!!

5:23: oh they made the snowy cave from ch 1 scarier......... woagh...... shivers my timbers....

5:25: got another speed spin from the caves!!!! thats all i wanted to do really

5:33: oooh they made the pit spookier as well

5:34: just donated 20 roux to this game because i heart block tales and i want that club animation. also i have like no roux so thats all i could give

5:38: i didnt know i could equip multiple.... what happens now 😁😁😁😁😁 (fnnuy)

9:14, dec 24: okay dokay. gayming time

9:18: currently grinding for the explosion sound effect card

9:43: got bored. decided to try and reach pit floor 30 instead

10:00: hooray. pit floor 30

anyways thats it lmao

[mulders-too-large-shirt]

s5 episode 5 thoughts

it’s been a few days. and you KNOW what i’m craving!!! 

ohhhh this episode… so i’ve heard about this one before. specifically it was brought up a lot when i voiced my complaints with small potatoes, with a lot of commenters comparing it to this episode. so that doesn’t fill me with a sense of joy and anticipation.

well, i had a nice day. the only way out is through. let’s see if this makes me as mad as small potatoes, shall we?

(author's note: i have many, many questions. i mean i can tell that this was an homage to old spooky movies but beyond that: huh?)

why now in the series? who came up with this? why do multiple episodes explore the concept of forced impregnation as something silly and harmless? why did the agents look so good in black and white? have they danced together before? do you believe in life after love?

let us take it from the top.

we begin with a comic book, it seems? inside is a black and white scene. is this whole episode in black and white? i looked at the image for the episode and it was black and white, too

this guy izzy is trying to go to a comic book convention, but his mom said she’ll kick him out. damn. being a nerd is hard. is this taking place in the distant past or something? well, the cars look older too.

(it was not taking place in the distant past... also, i thought izzy's mom, mrs. berkowitz, was mean at first because she joked about kicking him out, but she was actually the best character in this episode) 

later that night we see their home, including a photo of izzy with a pig, but she’s watching jerry springer. which seems anachronistic to the black and white setting. it’s an episode about a hairy baby. while the windows are being covered up with a sort of striped tent??? and something is smoking. 

enter cher???? no, enter someone else as cher plays. i do like when they put music in the episodes.

mom is coughing while a man with two faces comes to get her???

i mean, okay, the song slaps. i am unfamiliar with the work of cher and i was jamming out to it, even if i had no idea what was really going on except that maybe izzy made a frankenstein dupe in a comic, and it somehow came to life and hurt his mom. sure. why not?

the intro was shortened... you still can’t fool me.

the whole episode is in black and white????

OH GOD. this lady felt a presence in the room, woke up three days later and was pregnant??? with izzy??? 

so frankenstein is the father????? and it happened again??? and she heard cher when it went down??? man. man what.

scully is reading this letter… LMAO mulder was mentioned on the jerry springer show episode about the wolf baby, which is how she found him <- BAHAHA this cannot be good for his covert work!!!! 

her name is mrs. berkowitz and she is pouring our agents a soda as they enter her home. it is very kind to offer them caffeine as they rely so heavily upon it. and she wants to know about the wolf baby. it feels very weird to hear mulder do the medical talking.

WHAT THE HELL??? she is somehow pregnant again despite having a tubal ligation…. hey what. how is she not losing her mind? scully looks utterly gagged. 

the camera work here is so different, there are these intense closeups on the character with a sort of fisheye effect, it's both off-putting and cool

mrs. berkowitz says mulder knows what is happening, but he says he’s not even sure if he believes in aliens anymore??? he has to be lying. or does he actually believe that everything was faked as put forth by the redux trilogy? i thought he saw through that when he told CSM to go fuck off. also, i KNOW he is not dead.

sorry, but scully looks so good in black and white and a pinstriped suit. ohhhh my god.

anyway, scully says hmm, your description of the intruder is funny... because it MATCHES THIS COMIC BOOK CHARACTER FROM IZZY’S ROOM!!

izzy created that comic book character… so the plot is thickening??? 

enter izzy. we must confront him with this fact. he says that he’s seen “the great mutato” too, and that plenty of people have!! is he hanging in the neighborhood?? doing evil activities??? he's like, a real guy? and not some mysterious intruder???

cut to izzy outside with a peanut butter sandwich, luring in the beast

“i think what we’re seeing here is an example of a culture for whom daytime talk shows and tabloid headlines have become a reality against which they measure their lives- a culture so… so obsessed by the media and a chance for self-dramatization that they’ll do anything in order to gain a spotlight” (twirling my hair... kicking my feet a little... hey scully...)

“i am alarmed that you would reduce these people to a cultural stereotype” <- YEAH YOU TELL HER MULDER ‼️

they’re fighting about if this is possible or not and frankly i think they should just kiss about it 

(about the rumors, he says:) “but nonetheless unverifiable, and therefore true in the sense that they’re believed to be true” hey. when they talk all academic?? i'm swooning.

and they’re soooo close as they're fighting over all of this <3

“is there anything that you don’t believe in, mulder?” <- i was really looking forward to hearing him answer that, but no!! a distant moaning cut him off!!

scully….. oh my god…….. nothing to note here in terms of plot, she’s just pretty

the great mutato EMERGES for his sandwich!! and mulder is in trackstar mode absolutely SPRINTING, coat billowing behind him as thunder crackles and his long long legs carry him into the woods. and scully is fast too, but he is so much faster it’s actually funny. that man was made to run. absolute horse DNA

oooooo spoooooky, mulder is running after the great mutato into the woods with scully not too far behind, and they can’t find him!!

BAHAHA the old school movie effects are kinda endearing. mulder pointing “there!” and then a dramatic crash of thunder revealing a silhouette… yeah, i giggled 

i’m not well versed enough in old movies to understand all of these references, but i bet they had the horror girlies losing their minds 

but it’s just some guy walking a pig?? telling them to gtfo. well!

guy with pig sends them to his son???? who i later learned is named dr. pollidori. and who has a newspaper article about some experiment he did. this guy is looking like a stereotypical mad scientist. “my father is a simpleton farmer. he understands nothing of my scientific achievements” <- okay nerd, let’s not get in a science-off with dr. scully… also, let's not be mean to your dad!!

this mad scientist dr. pollidori says he is going to remembered for his incredible discovery of the “homeotic hox gene” and i hope he is taken down by scully. i hope she disproves every single thing he says. and then spits on him. fuck this guy for real.

i paused to write that down and she’s smiling at mulder behind this evil doctor’s shoulders :,)

mad scientist dr. pollidori tries to pull the whole “oh, let’s have scully explain my incredibly advanced research” card, further proving his evil tendencies, and she says it has something to do with growth. which is more than i could say.

he says he has to leave to go to an important international talk and she hits him with “sir, unless you want your scientific achievements to end up as a footnote on the jerry springer show, i suggest that you make the time” <- DAMN, GET HIM AGAIN FOR ME!!! i love when she puts people in their place.

i love this sort of "fishbowl/actors looking right into the camera" angle, because they look so cool standing like that. and i want to draw them like this, but i can’t draw. so i will just admire them instead. yeahhhh. they look cool as hell.

so it seems that what this mad scientist fellow dr. pollidori does is torture fruit flies and act mysterious? while thunder crashes about. kind of a sick gig aside, from the fly torture, but i could be mysterious and be way nicer. i could be a friendly mad scientist. i know a few of those, and they’re fascinating people!

so he fucked up some fruit flies and gave them legs in their mouths. that is rude as hell.

mulder asks “why would you do that?” (we were all thinking it) and mad scientist dr. pollidori says “because i can” with another crash of thunder. throw him to the dungeons at once!!! 

dr. pollidori says "it" (editing genes to put legs in mouths) could theoretically be done in humans. scully tries to assure mulder this really isn’t the case, and it’s not quite that easy, but mulder isn’t so sure

“given the power, who could resist to create life in his own image?”, mulder asks <- honey, you just need a cat. you’re not ready for a child yet. i know you want one so badly, but you sleep on the couch. it's just not the right time.

ohhh she got him with just that LMAOOOO “we already have that ability, mulder; it’s called procreation” <- i am very attuned to scully, as you can clearly tell by me anticipating that line

she says she’s going to really see if mrs. berkowitz is pregnant tomorrow... i did not know that this was a service scully could provide. but i guess i should have assumed.

dr. pollidori has a wife??? her name is elizabeth. she wants to talk to him about children?????? but he says “you know how i feel about children” okay well elizabeth seems too good for you anyway, so??

“what happened to our dream?” “i think that’s your dream” <- BABE LEAVE HIM!!! FUCK THE MAILMAN!!! YOU CAN DO IT!!!

everything is so incredibly 1950’s coded in this scene, down to her little apron

i’m picking up a sword for elizabeth, why are you being so mean to her, mad scientist dr. pollidori!!!!!!!!!!! NO, SHE’S CRYING!!!!!!!!! DIVORCE, BABES, DIVORCE!!

but something is at the window?? NO!! STAY AWAY FROM HER, GREAT MUTATO, SHE’S HAD ENOUGH!!

diner time with the agents. seems the whole town is there and they are smiling at them. in an unsettling manner. oh lord, why is MULDER so good looking in black and white too?? someone put me down like a rabid dog.

awww, scully finds a newspaper and it mentions their FBI stuff… who snitched on them!!! :(

mulder is presented with an IMMENSE amount of food (he only wanted coffee!) on behalf of JJ (that’s with two J's), and i still can’t figure out the vibe here, because on one hand we’ve got spooky silly mad scientist dr. pollidori, and on the other hand we have a rapist monster so. like?? hey???

some reporter character next to mulder is writing down everything he says and does. and this waitress gets right in his face to ask if jerry springer is coming to town. i’m uncomfy, you’re uncomfy, we’re all uncomfy.

so the newspaper article had everything they said last night word for word!!! who was sneaking around?? other than that person who was just sneaking over mulder’s shoulder, but we had not seen before??

izzy is being questioned for potential recording of their conversation and they’re sticking their heads in one at a time LMAOOOO. mrs. berkowitz has had ENOUGH of izzy's shenanigans!

he pulls out a tape recorder, and their whole conversation from the night before was on there!!! and then mulder rewinds, and they hear the cher song???? what!!! how is this connected??? and they hear a voice singing along!!! it’s the great mutato!!! he wasn't even there when that happened!!!

SO WHO WAS RECORDING EVERYTHING?????

the great mutato is dancing around in the doctor’s house!!!!!

LMAOOOOO mulder’s spouting frankenstein analysis in relation to this case (hey. call me btw) and scully hits him with the “mulder, i’m alarmed you would reduce this man to a literary stereotype” <- yeah the roasting should be mutual

he asks who else would go to such lengths to get mrs. berkowitz pregnant, and she’s looking around as if she has to gently break the news to him that "well, mulder, certain men love to hurt women", etc etc

scully is reading mrs. berkowitz’s file as they drive off, and everything DOES look true, both the tubal ligation and the pregnancy!!! when mulder starts driving the car backwards???

WE GET ANOTHER CHER SONG MOMENT as they run into a house that is covered with a tent!!! like we saw before at the very beginning with mrs. berkowitz!!! i think it’s dr. pollidori's house!!! and it’s filled with smoke!!! 

the girls (the agents) are breaking in!!! have we considered that scully should get out of here considering what happened last time we saw this exact scenario go down????? she’s coughing!!!!

mulder emerges from nearby, but nooooo!! they both collapse!!!!!! and the pig guy/dr. pollidori's father from before has a gas mask and says there ain’t no monster!!! HUH??

dr. pollidori comes back to his home a few days later, and poor mulder and scully and elizabeth are on the floor in a heap, looking terribly hung over from this gassing. they must have been out for like three days!!!

mulder says out loud that he thinks that he thinks dr. pollidori's wife elizabeth was impregnated, which is crazy to say btw, but elizabeth seems deeply excited at the fact. and then he tries to stand up and confront dr. pollidori, but he crashes into some stuff. and people are so right, mulder IS my baby girl. 

scully, meanwhile, is explaining that she thinks this is all some big hoax.

but mulder!!! he finds a frying pan!! and mrs. berkowitz also had her frying pans “violated”, in his words!!

his tie is all messy and he’s stumbling around. we are given a brief insight into what drunk mulder must appear like. but a principled man, he has generally sworn off alcohol, so this is all we can use to imagine how such a sight would appear.

when they pull out an empty jar of peanut butter like izzy used to summon the great mutato, he proclaims that he found his smoking gun. lmao

IT’S THE DOCTOR'S DAD?????? THE ONE WHO WAS WALKING THE PIG EARLIER??? HE’S BRINGING THE MUTATO SANDWICHES AND CALLS HIM "SON"??? please put your son on a leash sir, because he is clearly committing crimes

ohhh confrontation time between dr. pollidori and his father…. OHHHH choking is going on. the dad said he did "it" because he can….. terrible reasoning to make a guy, btw

mulder is back in the diner, and now everyone is avoiding his gaze, throwing things at him, trying to trip him!!! JJ spits on his plate!!! he still looks good as hell though. 

THEY POUR THE COFFEE RIGHT IN HIS LAP???? RUDE AF????

now the newspaper is publishing that the agents think the monster is a hoax, which i guess explains his treatment. so do the townspeople LIKE the monster, then??? and so denying him is to deny what makes them unique? but hold onto that thought, because now everyone is running outside!!!!

THE POLICE HAVE IZZY???? he has a mask on!!! the cop says they've caught their monster. a cosplay mask doesn’t make him a monster, you utter fools. mrs. berkowitz is a good mom though; she says she WILL throw hands with the whole town for judging her boy, and i respect that 

oh, scully with the big reveal: the stuff on the frying pan they found at the doctor's house is used to knock out farm animals???? and farmers have to be on a register to use it!! which leads them to dr. pollidori's father aka the guy who walked his pig!!!!

the great mutato finds his father dead in the kitchen and mourns him, bringing him into the barn where he sobs and digs him a grave. it is sad. but. he still did those terrible things to mrs. berkowitz and elizabeth, so i'm not sure how bad i'm supposed to feel.

so the agents arrive, while it seems he is hiding up in the rafters. they find a puck of that weird gas that knocks you out, and mulder says he thinks they’re too late as they find the freshly dug grave

OHHH they hear a creaking and he WHIPS out his gun, but does this thing where he backs up so he is RIGHT in front of scully… wait, i need to watch that again. yeah, it was good. 

it’s the journalist person??? from before at the diner?? here to get a good scoop on the murder!!!!

but now the angry townspeople are arriving!!! lead by dr. pollidori! it’s very much giving gaston in beauty in the beast with the flaming torches. well. they’re going after him. while our agents are in the rain. probably still enduring a crazy chemical hangover. 

NOOOO!!!! scully turns around and sees the mutato!!! wow, she actually saw the creature for once lmao. that never seemed to happen in the early seasons

so they go in the cellar after the mutato and find a shrine to CHER NOW HOLD ON. HOLD ON. i have to pause and laugh. WHAT THE HELL. LMAOOOO

at least he has taste, i guess??

they find him in the corner and tell him to come out. scully seems deeply compassionate.

meanwhile, the barn is fully on fire as the journalist tries to write everything down. who will think of the sheep and pigs??? and even the chickens???

they emerge from the cellar but nooo, the journalist sees them!!! and the townspeople are invading!!!

the doctor says to let him go or they’ll burn him out. and he reveals to the crowd it was his FATHER who created him!!

mulder holds up a finger to wordlessly say “WATCH IT, WISE GUY” while the mutato is trying to say something. oh he can fully talk. “i have never acted to harm another soul” <- BUDDY. BUDDY WHAT DID YOU THINK YOU WERE DOING TO THOSE WOMEN????????

he’s monologing now, explaining he was the product of the doctor’s experiments. but his father rescued and loved him. and he tried to learn the science to make him a friend. also a horse is listening to all of this btw.

dr. pollidori's calls mutato a mistake which is rude as hell. 

however, if i’m supposed to feel bad for this guy for saying sorry after being caught raping women, i’m not gonna 💀 it sucks that he was abandoned and unloved, but we still need to have ethics in our conduct

scully looks deeply upset though.

he says he learned so much about humanity, and about love; “cher loved that boy so much” <- well. yeah. i laughed.

izzy declares that the great mutato is no monster!!!! i guess that he is his father, so he might be a bit biased there.

mulder is troubled by the fact that unlike in the original book of frankenstein, this monster did not escape to look for a bride! he wants to speak to the writers

“there’s not gonna be any bride, mulder. not in this story” “well then where’s the writer? i want to speak to the writer” <- LMAOOO why did this feel like a dig at the MSR shippers, i'm HOWLING

we end with more cher as cars drive down the road. AND THE AGENTS HAVE THE GREAT MUTATO IN THEIR CAR??? he’s just chilling in the back.

AND THEY TAKE HIM TO A CHER CONCERT??? OR IMPERSONATOR??? OR SOMETHING!?? AND HE’S LOSING HIS MIND?? WHILE IZZY AND THE AGENTS WATCH???

AND THEN WE SEE THE GREAT MUTATO BABIES ON JERRY SPRINGER and when he asks if the babies are hard to love due to their two faces (rude??) mrs. berkowitz says “what’s not to love?” <- okay queen!!!! she may have gone through a lot, but damn she loves her babies!!!

and then… mulder takes scully, and they dance??? they dance??? i knew there was a dance scene actually because i had seen in mentioned before, but i am seeing this??? with my eyes???? oh my god???

they love each other man... and maybe that’s romantic or maybe they’re best friends and maybe it's both or some secret third thing, but that is LOVE!!!!! LOOK AT THEM!!!!!

and then izzy turns it into a comic book??

WHAT THE FUCK DID I JUST WATCH LMAOOOOO

guys please be kind to me if you understood this because i did not. i’m half laughing and half soooo confused

????? man, hold on

again, i see the similarities to small potatoes as has been mentioned before. and we’re supposed to just feel bad for the great mutato and wave off the rape. which doesn’t fly for me. and also why have there been two episodes with this theme now. what was chris carter smoking? and can we get him a different strain? 

tbh, i really haven’t listened to cher before but if nothing else this episode put me onto her?? i guess??

i don’t have that same visceral sick feeling that i had from small potatoes, which i take is because we did not see scully as the victim of the violence this time around, but still. not great. 

it felt like a huge inside joke i’m not in on. so i’m confused. and i appreciate that this is referencing old movie tropes, but that doesn’t mean i understand them any better, you know?

but they danced :( they danced :(

i waited two days before writing this up to try and let some time pass and hopefully make my perceptions a bit clearer, but i don't think it worked as well as i had hoped. this has to be a record for most question marks per episode writeup. so i am going to NEED to know what the wider community thinks of this episode. and also what you, the person reading, thinks of this episode. is this a cult classic? am i simply too young to understand the references? or is there truly nothing to get and the episode is just Like That for some reason?

i was, all in the span of 40-ish minutes, amused, disgusted, enamored, and baffled. with different percentages of each.

conclusion: mrs. berkowitz is real as hell, mulder and scully look AMAZING in black and white, and i do not forgive the great mutato. also they danced, btw. not sure if you caught that.

however, if i may venture a guess: this episode and the last were more silly than usual, and i appreciate that. but, i actually do sort of know what happens in the next two, in a "describe it in one sentence" kind of way, because before i decided to watch this show i googled it to see what it was about... and i came across this plot point. and maybe they decided to do something a bit more light-hearted before coming in with the emotional devastation. although, that did not stop them last season, so who knows?

i am excited to watch the next two.

[jimhopperlova]

sexting | david harbour (18+)

gif source: the redheads diaries

omg hi you party people!! i am back (finally) with a special spicy multi series that hopefully you all will enjoy!! im very excited to write again and i miss you guys so much!! let me know if you want any requests.

Pairing(s): pervy!david and bratty!femreader

Warning(s): flirty texts, masturbation (f), masturbation (m), phone sex, squirting, degradation

Summary: when going out to a employee party at a local bar one night, david saw you amongst his female coworkers and hadn’t met you before. that night, he made it his night’s goal to retrieve your number one way or another.

‘Hey there.’ you received a text from an unknown number after you had gotten home. living in a one bedroom apartment, you were hardly able to afford the place all to yourself. but you could atleast go out with your friends who were having an employee party at the local bar. your friends were all supportive in the most ways they can, even bought your drinks for you. despite you not being an employee, your friends still wanted you to go out with them and have some fun. you wre blessed to have great friends. after getting out of the shitty night club outfit, you plopped on some pajama pants and put on an oversized t-shirt.

you then opened up your phone, looking at the number with the text message. who was this? you tried your hardest to think, but nothing was popping in your head. you were skeptical, but decided to reply anyway.

‘uh.. hey there. who’s this?’ you replied to the message. you didn’t think they would text back right away, so you sat your phone down. you grabbed the remote and before you knew it, your phone dinged. you picked it up and read the message.

‘My name is David. I got your number from your friend, Missy.’ this now mysterious man replied. you facepalmed yourself at your friend, kinda creeped out and also angry at your friend. you quickly dialed up your friend, hoping she would answer.

“(y/n)! what’s up?! i’m drunk as fuuuuuuuuck.” your friend missy giggled into the line and you rolled your eyes at her response.

“thank god you’re home. hey, uh.. i got a message from a.. david. do you know him?” you asked missy who only giggled, before letting out a hiccup.

“ohhhh… david. he’s fuckin’ hot. he had his eyes on you, missy. oh wait, m-my name is missy. haaaa!” missy laughed and you wanted to punch her in the face for being so drunk. “buuuut.. y-yea. david works in the office. he’s uh.. the-the psy-psy… fuck. oh yeah, psychologist! yeah, t-thats the word.” missy explained, and your heart pounded. the man that’s a psychologist is single? and yes, your friend missy will fuck anything that walks, but.. if she exuberates on hot (and she’s drunk), that means he’s hot. right?

“oh.. okay, thanks missy. eat some bread and get your ass to sleep.” you told her before saying goodbye and hanging up. you lifted your knee up to your face before resting your arm against the knee. you absentmindedly started to bite your nail, deep in thought. this texting could be fun.

‘hey, david. i’m (y/n). why did missy give you my number?’ you asked david, before you left the messages open and waited patiently. you watched the bubbles appear almost immediately, as if he had been waiting for your response.

‘I saw you in the bar, and you looked beautiful. Thought I would shoot my shot.’ david replied. you didn’t even know what this man looked like. you had an idea.

‘well, mr. david. i don’t know what you look like. send a pic?’ you texted, kind of nervous. what if he wasn’t hot. what if he wasn’t what you had pictured in your mind? you had pictured kind of chisled, maybe had a little beard. you hoped he looked atleast decent. suddenly, the bubbles were typing and then there was a picture.

‘Currently sitting here enjoying this Ben and Jerry’s. Cigarette’s fake lol.’ david replied, and you couldn’t help but look at the picture.

you tried to identify every single thing about this man. his beard, his hair, even tried to get a glimpse of his chest. he didn’t send a flattering pic, but maybe that was how he was. goofy. that could be even better.

‘oh wow, mr. david. who knew a psychologist eats ice cream in bed after drinking at 1 o’clock in the morning? 😜’ yes. you were being flirty. but you couldn’t lie. despite the act of trying to be goofy, you could tell this man was hot. even better, he was your type. despite missy in her drunken state, she knew exactly what you were looking for.

‘So Missy told you my profession. What do you think of that?’ david asked you, and you couldn’t help but blush. of course this man has money, but you didn’t give a single fuck about that. in fact, you more were thinking of how good of a person he was for trying to help people.

‘i think it’s great what you’re doing for people. i’m sure you went through school for the money, but psychologists are one of the greatest gifts on the earth. especially for the kids. you are a brave man, mr. david.’ you replied to him, and more bubbles popped up. you were quite excited to continue this conversation, and you really didn’t understand why.

‘Well I do what I can. I like making people smile and helping them. Say, where’s my pic? I sent you one.’ david asked, and you got nervous suddenly. should you send one? you ended up doing so, of you in the oversized t-shirt and the long pajama pants. you held up a peace sign, showing you were getting ready to sleep. you sent the pic in nerves and once again, david replied almost immediately. ‘Haha. Sleepy already? I thought I could talk to you more.’ david replied, and your face instantly blushed.

‘yeaaaaah. i was the dd for the night. those girls drove me crazy.’ you replied.

‘Oh yeah. Your friends are quite the chatty ones.’ david replied before you saw the bubbles yet again. ‘Well, I’ll let you head to bed. I’ll speak with you tomorrow. Sleep dreams.’

‘you too. nice talking with ya.’ you replied to david before setting your phone down. you trotted your way to your bedroom and got comfy in your queen size bed before shutting your eyes softly. you couldn’t help but think of david now. was he wanting to get to know you? you hated to admit it but you pictured him in bed with you. you just met him and you’re already thinking of that? perv.

the next morning came and you yawned, stretching slightly to try and wake up. you need a shower and you felt gross. but before that were to happen, you wanted to check your phone to see if a specific someone messaged you.

‘Good morning. Just picturing you here with me. 😉’ the text was sent at 7 o’clock this morning by david. it was currently 8 as you had slept in, and you didn’t work today. your face emitted a deep blush and you realized you had to meet him in person soon.

‘good morning. oh really? well we will have to change that soon, shall we?’ you texted him back before going into the bathroom. you brought your phone with you so you could listen to music. the main reason was to text with david. you started to undress yourself before receiving yet another text.

‘Yes, indeed. Where’s my good morning pic?’ david texted you, and you instantly giggled. your current self was undressed, and you thought that you shouldn’t take a picture of you naked. who knows what he would do with that.

‘well, i’m a little.. preoccupied at the moment so you’re gonna have to wait. besides, i didn’t get one.’ you texted back and he instantly read it. after a moment, the bubbles popped up yet again and he replied.

‘You want a good morning pic? Why didn’t you just say so?’ and then he sent one. it was a picture of him laying down in what you presumed his bed, visibly shirtless this time. he had a smug smirk on his face, and that made your face beam. ‘Send a pic of you right now. I did it, so it’s only fair.’ he replied afterwards, and your face was still red. you conteplated, before emitting a fuck it attitude. you sent a picture of your shirtless self, using your free hand to cover up your nipples.

‘there, ya happy ya big goof?’ you texted him back and it took him a minute to respond. the longest he took was at this moment.

‘Very much so. Thanks for the trust.’ david replied before he continued to type. ‘What are you doing that’s having you strip?’

‘jumping in the shower. i won’t be too long.’ you replied, and you scrolled up a bit to look at his smug smirk. you imagined him doing that right now, considering the flirty texts you were sending back and forth.

‘Ah, shower. Well try and not think of me in there. 😉’ david texted before you emitted yet another deep blush. you hadn’t even met this man, and here you are. basically being all googly eyed in response to his pictures and statements.

‘no promises. 😜’ you replied before setting your phone back down. you got undressed the rest of the way before jumping in the shower, feeling the hot water embrace your naked body. it felt good, almost too good. and despite david not telling you to think of him, you did. your hands roamed your body, picturing it was him im your mind. you reached your clit, and started to rub along the sensitive flesh. you rubbed circles, moaning softly at the way you felt yourself getting hornier by the minute. you imagined his beard tickling your neck as he laid kisses along your jaw, trailing down your body and to your breasts. you imagined him licking your nipples, caging them with his teeth softly. he bit down, but not too hard. you moaned some more, touching yourself to the thought of him. you were already getting close, just from the thought of him.

while you were preoccupied, you heard your phone go off. you tried not to think of it, and continued your masturbation party. little did you know it was a text from david, and a very specific text.

‘Do you want me to come over there? I’ll make you feel good.’ was what it read, but you didn’t know it yet. little did you know, david was also rubbing out one to the thought of you. he just imagined how good you would suck his cock, and how good you would take it. he imagined you being tight, almost like a perfect puzzle piece that he’s always longed for. when he didn’t get a response, he texted again. ‘No response which means you’re.. busy. Are you thinking what I think you’re thinking?’ he texted you, and felt his own self beam with excitement. he finally set his phone down to leave you with your shower as his hand continued to stroke his cock. it was so hard, throbbing with need. he wanted you so bad. he knew you didn’t know him though, and you would be weirded out he had imagined.

to his surprise, you responded to his text already. despite you being in the shower and thinking of david, you couldn’t help but respond. you poked your head and arm out of the shower, drying off your hand in hopes to not get your phone wet. you read the texts and honestly.. you wanted him over here. but not yet.

‘mmm. what is it you think i’m thinking of?’ you texted back david, and to that he instantly replied.

‘Oh I think you know. Are you thinking of me pleasing you right now?’ david asked you, and you waited a moment to reply.

‘and what if i am?’ you asked. david typed with his free hand, slowly continuing to stroke his cock while he texted you.

‘I could call you, and tell you all the things I want to do to you. That is.. if you want.’ he replied. a phone call? you didn’t think it would be this fast that you got to hear his voice.

‘let me actually shower real quick, and then.. we can call.’ you replied and set your phone down. you took the fastest shower you have ever took before. your heart was beating fast as every minute past. you cleaned every part of you, trying your best not to take too long. finally you were finished. you decided to not get dressed in your day clothes just yet. you imagined you were about to.. touch yourself. ‘okay, i’m back in my room all showered. call when you went.’

upon seeing you respond, david immediately gave you a call. you watched the number pop up and let in ring for a moment before you picked up and put it on speaker.

‘uh.. hi?’ you spoke. you could hear david’s low but beautiful chuckle before he responded.

‘hello. how was your shower?’ he asked through the phone. his voice was intoxicating. his voice was low but yet had personality in itself. you definitely could cum to his voice.. if that’s what you think was about to happen.

‘it was um.. it was good.’ you responded. you heard his chuckle again, before he responded.

‘don’t be nervous, just relax. what are you doing right now?’ he asked through the phone. you swallowed past the nerves that formed in your stomach before you responded.

‘just.. laying here.’ you giggled out and to that you heard his chuckle again. he liked to laugh it seemed.

‘yeah? what are you thinking about?’ david asked you. his hand was on his continuing his movements from before, listening to your soft voice. he imaged your moans in his brain, and he was dedicated to make you feel good. as much as he could, anyway.

‘um.. y-you..’ you replied hesitantly. david smiled like he was a kid in a candy store again. from that sentence alone, he continued to stroke his cock, nice and slow.

‘mm.. and what about?’ he asked you through the phone. you had to bite your own lip from letting our a squeak from how sexy he sounded. you reached down to touch your clit, before rubbing soft and slow circles. you accidentally let a moan slip from your mouth, and david had to chuckle of course. ‘ah. i see.. what do you want me to do to you?’

‘um.. f-fuck me..’ you spoke just above a whisper, just enough for david to understand. to that statement, he added more pressure to his cock.

‘yeah? how do you want me to fuck you? from behind as i pull your hair? or missionary, so i can look at that beautiful face becoming undone in front of me?’ david asked you. you had to really conceal your moans now. he was talking so dirty, that it was driving you mad. you wanted to see him in person, but.. this made you feel so naughty. so dirty.. like you shouldn’t be doing this.

‘i w-want you to.. fuck me from behind, david..’ you whispered out. in that moment, he knew exactly how freaky you were. he liked that. he wanted you to be his personal little fucktoy. ‘i want you.. to use me..’ you continued, and david let out a soft groan. that made your tummy flip, imagining him groaning against your ear as he pounded into you from behind.

‘who knew you were such a whore? just wanting to get fucked..’ david groaned out softly as he continued to stroke his cock. this time, he was going even faster now. ‘go ahead and enter a finger. i want to hear you moan for me..’

‘y-yes, sir,’ you shivered with anticipation before you slowly entered a finger inside of yourself. you let out a soft moan as you continued to picture the man entering one of his own from the other side of the phone. you just started talking to this man last night and you were already dripping to the thought of him pleasing you. were you really that desperate? ‘o-oh.. david.. it feels so.. so good.’ you sighed out, and to that he let out a soft moan of himself. david has never done this before, and it was really helping him get close. closer to cumming than he would have thought.

‘i like it when you call me sir. it really makes you that much more desperate..’ david spoke lowly as he grunted while stroking his cock. it was much faster now, and he was working up a sweat. he was going to cum soon, and he wanted you to know. ‘enter another finger, babygirl. i want you to imagine that i’m fucking you.’

‘oh- f-fuck..’ you whined out as you slipped in another finger. with the continuous motions of you entering two fingers inside of you and one rubbing against your clit, you were getting close. ‘s-sir.. i’m-i’m getting.. c-close..’ you whined out, wanting to let david know.

‘cum for me, babygirl. whenever you’re ready. i want you to scream my name as loud as you can.’ david groaned out, as his dick was throbbing of more, but it knew that this was the best it was going to get. just a bit longer..

‘david! da- fuck!’ you yelled out, feeling that knot start to untie. before you knew it, you were screaming with pleasure, the juices from your pussy squirting out of you. ‘oh my-fuck..’ you sighed out.

‘yeah? fuck.. you did so good.. so-fucking good..’ david groaned out. when he knew when he was about to cum, he made sure to angle his cock onto his stomach. ‘i’m going to cum for you. where do you- do you want this cum?’ david continued to growl out and you instantly obliged with answering.

‘in my mouth, sir. i want to taste every drip of you..’ you moaned out. david immediately pictured your mouth gaping wide open, ready for his seed to spill all over your tongue. with that in mind, he came all over his stomach, his cock twitching a bit as he slowed down his jerking. you could tell he came with how vocal he was, and that made your pussy wet again.

‘fuck.. you did so good, babygirl,’ david spoke lowly as his breath hitched. he sounded like he was out of breath, and it was all your fault. ‘we should do this in person sometime, no?’

‘yeah, that would be.. that would be amazing.’ you replied. you really wanted to meet david in person. you only gotten a couple of pictures, and maybe that isn’t what he looked like. you were almost positive he was telling the truth, though. you were also out of breath, panting a bit as you looked at the soaked juices on the bed.

‘well. tomorrow’s friday, so i don’t work saturday. why don’t i take you out tomorrow night? 8 o’clock?’ david asked through the phone. hour face immediately brightened up, emitting a deep red. again. your heart thumped in your chest as butterflies hugged your stomach.

‘yeah, that sounds.. that sounds great. can we make it for 9, though? i have to work until 7 and i want plenty of time to get ready for you.’ you asked david, and to that he chuckled.

‘of course, i will wait as long as i have to. you have a great day today, and i’ll continue to text you if you let me. besides, gotta shower myself and head into work. it’s my own practice, so i make my own schedule.’ david chuckled and to that you giggled.

‘well i’m super glad you made it this far to where you don’t have a boss. you have a good day too and please.. please text me.’ you told him. and to that he smiled and said a goodbye and hung up. your chest tightened and you realized something. you just came from just a man’s voice.. no, you squirted. what will happen tomorrow night?

[im-not-a-l0ser]

I’ve seen a couple posts of yours pop up on my dash, and (absolutely no hate here) I’m getting the impression that you don’t really like Grace? Now, I am incredibly new to the Hatchetfield community (as in, I watched early Starkid, fell out of it because Darren Criss left, and am just now returning), so I’m not sure what all has happened in all multiverses.

With characters like Grace, maybe I tend to project a little bit of my old high school self onto them, because I used to exude an air of moral superiority since I was vocally and unapologetically Protestant in a classical Catholic school. I find ultra-religious characters interesting to play around with, especially in predominantly queer spaces like Starkid, since I was that ultra-religious kid (who is now vocally and unapologetically queer).

So, I guess what I mean to ask is: What is your opinion of Grace, and why? You seem to know a lot about this universe, so I’m hoping to grasp at the general attitude of this fandom towards women before I jump back in.

Oh, so you're... you're going to make it about gender then.

I actually had a whole thing typed up about why I don't like Grace and people's perception of her, but I suppose I'll just post it separately. Maybe I'll link back to this idk. Good base for a post I was already planning on making.

So here's the thing. I don't hate Grace because she's a woman, I hate Grace because she's a fucking psychotic bigot who people need to stop perceiving as something she's not.

I've gone on a whole rant already specifically about this. But there are spoilers in it, so if you haven't seen NPMD bc you're waiting to get a grasp on the vibe of the fandom, you shouldn't read it. Or you should at least watch NPMD first.

So, just a rundown. I hate Grace because she is hyper-religious and I have religious trauma. I hate that people don't see her religion as a core part of her identity, making her fundamentally for and against some things, but still joke about her being christian.

And, before someone get's at me about how I still like Mark. I really didn't, but Curt Mega posted this, which made him a much more complex character in my eyes. I'm sure he was joking, but Mark being gay and having a double life that causes him guilt in both directions is forever embedded in my head.

And sure, Grace is a complex character, she really is. But parts of the problem are 1, people don't pay much attention to her actual complexities, and 2, she's seriously psychotic. And that's not me being like 'women be crazy,' that's me watching the show and thinking... 'oh my god, she's fucking insane' at the end of act one, and at the end of Virginity Camp.

But Grace is really the only girl character in Hatchetfield that I dislike, especially so passionately. I like Emma and Steph and Becky, although Linda I'm not really a fan of actually. But y'know, another "she's a fundamentally bad person" thing there. I even like Ruth, who I initially didn't (I'm asexual and her whole thing made me really uncomfy watching it). Jeri's a weird case, but mainly because both her and Jerry are fucking stupid. Like... just get married! Just get married, you two have liked each other for over a decade, just get married!

So, if you want my attitude on women, there it is. I like good characters and I dislike bad characters. I dislike characters who are against things that I stand for, like being queer, and... idk, not starting cults.