#bell tolls & clock strikes

[noneorother]

All the music you didn’t hear: The Good Omens soundtrack is lying to you. *Part2*

The Bonkers Meta Series 2: Electric Boogaloo. This week on the chopping block: The official Good Omens 2 soundtrack album!

Part 1  l  Part 2  

If you, like me, have absolutely no respect for your time (or your 2023 Spotify Wrapped) and are willing to sit with the show and the David Arnold score album running side by side to match up all the songs, then you too can find out what I did: exactly 6 songs in the album go off the rails in the show in a very specific way. And you know what they say about a song…

So let’s break these misbehaving songs down, shall we? 

A Bell Tolls for Thee

There are SO MANY DAMN BELLS in season 2. I think the sound department might have had a competition going. But I want to show you the bells that happen in the music of the show, but not in the album.

Specifically, there are tubular bells all over the score in David Arnold’s orchestration in season 2 (and some in season 1). It’s an instrument used throughout classical music to represent grandfather clocks or church bells, signalling time passing, like striking the hour. But, this season has done something devious: it sets up your expectation by putting tubular bells in all the regular places in the score, so that you notice less when they whack a big tubular bell ring in a place where it should not be, at a key moment in the story. 

Feel free to go back and listen to these time codes in the show, it’s going to become obvious real fast.  

S2E1 - 14:55 l Song : Into Soho Aziraphale answers the door to a naked Gabriel, and recognizes him for the first time. A bell rings once.

If you listen closely to the album version, David Arnold recorded a beautiful and uplifting ending to this track. Too bad we never get to hear it in the show, it splits off into a bell toll and then a reorchestration. We never hear the end!

S2E1 - 42:30 l Song : Tiny Miracle Aziraphale & Crowley perform a class-A miracle, and Crowley pokes the barrier with his finger. A bell rings twice.

Same thing for Tiny Miracle! The ending of the song in the album we never get to hear in the show, it gets interrupted by 2 tubular bell tolls and another reorchestration of other music. 

S2E3 - 33:59 l Song : Reprise - Something Terrible Aziraphale considers the statue of Gabriel in his present day trip to Edinburgh. A bell rings three times.

This one starts from silence with 3 bell tolls as a reprise of “Something terrible” starts just after it. The second and third bells are woven into the music on beats they never appear in those bars on the recording. 

S2E4 - 38:00 l Song : Zombie Dressing Room  Shax asks Beelzebub for permission to attack the bookshop. A bell rings four times.

This one is extra weird (see my first music post). Even though we stretch out Zombie Dressing Room way after the dressing room scene is over and into the Shax in hell scene, it still manages to work in 4 new tubular bell rings that aren’t there in the score, and we never hear the same ending as on the album. 

S2E5 - 00:05 - 10:14 l Song : Reprise - Something Terrible Shax requisitions troops and gathers her legion. A bell rings five times.

This one is tricky because Shax’s scene in hell is cut up 5 times, but you probably see where this is going: every time we cut back to Shax there’s a new bell rings once that wasn’t in the recording.  

S2E5 - 29:56 l Song : Shax Shax arrives from Hell in the elevbator to attack the bookshop. A bell rings six times.

This is the last time in the season when we hear extra tubular bells. In a pretty bizarre turn of events, the demons Shax has mustered have walked in from down the street, but Shax takes the elevator to arrive at the bookshop. What a way to treat your troops. In any case, we get a final song that doesn’t get the ending it deserves, and gets cut off in favour of a reprise.

Taco Bell: Live Confused So why put so much effort into signalling these 6 specific actions with bell tolls? The first three are clearly Aziraphale & Crowley related, while the second three are Shax related. (All the Shax actions accompanied by bells have flashing lights above Shax.) Could this be a way of signalling we are halfway to the second coming, 6 hours until midnight on the armageddon clock? Or something else entirely?

Every time we hear the added bells, the soundtrack in the show deviates from the planned endings written for the album. Are these mistakes in the timeline, that were never supposed to happen in the ineffable plan? I guess we'll all be listening together for tubular bells in season 3... -------------------------------- Thanks to @embracing-the-ineffable for the encouragement, and the Ineffable detective agency for all their hard work. Part 1 is here!

[felassan]

Notes and thoughts on the companion Abilities we learned today -

just for reference a quick note again of what they are:

Harding - Seismic Shot; Heavy Draw; Shred; Adrenaline Rush; Soothing Potion Davrin - Battle Cry; Death from Above; Heroic Strike; Assan Strike; In War, Victory Bellara - Fade Bolts; Enfeebling Shot; Replenish; Time Slow; Galvanized Tear Taash - Fire Breath; Dragon's Roar; Dragonfire Strike; Spitfire; Fortune's Favor Lucanis - Eviscerate; Abominate; Soothing Potion; Debilitate; Adrenaline Rush Emmrich - Final Rites; Replenish; Entangling Spirits; The Bell Tolls; Time Slow Neve - Icebreaker; Blizzard; Glacial Pace; Time Slow; Replenish

Some Abilities are shared between companions. For example, both Lucanis and Harding have Adrenaline Rush and Soothing Potion, and Emmrich and Neve and Bellara all have Time Slow and Replenish. I think this is to do with the "core kits" that were mentioned before. like "Time Slow" for example as a part of the core kit for mage characters.

some of these Abilities we've seen demonstrated in gameplay videos so far or had shown/described in screenshots/articles before, like Death From Above. :>

Seismic Shot: since "seismic" can relate to earthquakes and other vibrations in the earth and its crust, this is a really cool name for one of Harding's moves (dwarf, Deep Roads, the Stone, Titans, her new earthbending skills etc) and I'm curious about both its gameplay effects and if it's tied to her new magical powers

Shred: arrowfire that shreds armor presumably

Soothing Potion and Replenish: both sound like heals

Heavy Draw: a heavy attack of Harding's? (Rook at least has access to both light attacks and heavy attacks)

Battle Cry: similar in name to previous abilities like War Cry and Battle Roar. Applies Taunted to enemies in the area

On Death From Above and Assan Strike. Death From Above deals high Stagger and can be used to deal damage from afar, presumably Assan Strike can also be used to deal damage from distance

In War, Victory: the Grey Warden motto will never not slap and evoke a great sense of heavy emotion.. 🥺 it was this part of the Grey Warden motto that was featured as a dialogue line in the release date reveal trailer. A+ name for a Grey Warden's move, no notes

Galvanized Tear: this ability is like a gravity well, it pulls enemies together. you can use it to draw enemies into one place

Adrenaline Rush: a buff that grants enhanced damage/enhances Rook's damage stats

Heroic Strike: applies the overwhelmed debuff. This causes the target to take additional Stagger ("deals high Stagger")

Eviscerate: At half health of less, this deals bonus damage, increasing in effectiveness the closer the target is to death. can be used to detonate a combo and strike a whole group of enemies

Abominate: Deals high Barrier damage and applies Knocked down to enemies in the area. can be used to knock enemies down. also, implications

Final Rites: it's giving finishing move vibes. I love the allusion to cultural practises like Last rights. very appropriate for a thoughtful, caring necromancer whose character is about exploring death and necromancy in a thoughtful nuanced way

The Bell Tolls: For Whom The Bell Tolls (two) reference? :) it's giving a 'your time alive is ending' or a 'your time as a spirit inhabiting this dead body is ending', clock strikes midnight, Cinderella-kinda vibe. bells toll in some places of worship when someone has died (funeral bells), or during other important life rites. also very appropriate for a necromancer

^ No man is an island, entire of itself; every man is a piece of the continent, a part of the main. If a clod be washed away by the sea, Europe is the less, as well as if a promontory were, as well as if a manor of thy friend’s or of thine own were: any man’s death diminishes me, because I am involved in mankind, and therefore never send to know for whom the bells tolls; it tolls for thee.

Fortune's Favor: Lords of Fortune allusion, 'fortune favors the bold' :)

Taash has three abilities involving her fire-breathing and two with "dragon" in the name. 👀 they are really emphasizing the dragon connection/dragon symbolism and she is really living up to the "Ataashi" ('dragon, glorious one, great thing') in her name. in Trespasser Dragon's Breath was a Qunari conspiracy to kill most of the leadership of southern Thedas, involving explosives. I'm really curious about the specific mechanism or origin of her fire-breathing; like is she doing it the way fire-breathing performers do it irl (sounds kind of DA Artificer-y), or has she literally gained or developed some kind of literal innate fire-breathing draconic ability?

throwback to this post:

Maybe it was Taash who wrote this Codex, and the title is alliterative, “Taash Talks”? The writer comes across like a dragon enthusiast and it references being near the shore/sea. Iron Bull once said “So, when you face a dragon, does it get your heart pumping? Do you breathe a little faster, feel the blood racing?” (in the DA:TV trailer, Varric says that they will need someone “with fire in their blood” to face dragons).

Varric was being literal in that line huh. :D

the Qunari are known to hold dragons sacred. they have a physical similarity and some believe that the Tamassrans cultivate dragon blood within the Qunari, allowing some to tap into combat abilities similar to Reavers. is that practise the source of Taash's fire-breathing power? Kieran comments that Adaar's blood doesn't belong to their people. Cory also has weird comments about qunari blood. or maybe she just drank dragonblood? Reavers unlock powerful abilities by drinking it and a dragon-hunter would have access to dragonblood in abundance. Cassandra has dialogue where she tells the Inquisitor that her family used to be known for their Reavers. she says that too much dragonblood caused them to grow deformed, they grew scales and became more draconic than human. if there are legends of Reavers growing scales and draconic appearances after overindulging, why couldn't someone also breathe fire dragon-style? :D "igniting everything with draconic fury" makes me think of Reavery stuff too. Taash is out here living my Inquisitor's (who was a Reaver) dreams.

[from-izzy]

double a decade | tbz kim sunwoo

Double a decade—no, more than that. 

​PAIRING » tbz kim sunwoo x gn!reader (proofread twice! lmk if i missed anything!)​ TROPE/AU » ​childhood friends to lovers, non-idol au!, holiday season au! (starts a little bit from christmas up to new years!) GENRE​ » it's so fluffy like wow...i'm not going to write something so fluff for sunwoo for a while after this, a tinge of angst, SUNWOO AND READER ARE BOTH IDIOTS, sunwoo thought his love was one-sided, very shy kim sunwoo, sunwoo being very cute and patient to the reader, reader is sick and sunwoo takes care of them uwu, they platonically share the same bed, big spoon sunwoo who is physically bigger than you and holds you to sleep, MUTUAL PINING REEEEEE, a ton of hugs from kim sunwoo because he's so...ugh, reader blushing cause of kim sunwoo, sunwoo giving his jackets that're oversized for you to use (ahhhh) WORD COUNT » 5760 ESTIMATED READING TIME » ~21 mins WARNINGS (lmk if i missed anything!) » reader is sick with a fever (if you're actually sick, please isolate yourself!), kim sunwoo being a shy idiot, one swear word (but cuts through halfway)

navi/masterlist!! 🤍

my last story for 2023! looking forward to the new year! happy 2024 everyone!

thank you for reading and screaming with me @winterchimez, @heemingyu and @mosviqu !! you three were so chaotic 😭 like ally really whipped out my government name, i couldn't tell whether sana was mad at me or sunwoo, and bar was...yeah...uhm...yeah!

(i suffered so much with the banner, i need to stop looking at it now)

Even you found this situation absurd.

How could something so beautiful cause you to have tissues and wet towels lying around your heating body? It’s bittersweet to know that the things that made you enwrap in the layer of heated and weighted blankets are the same ones every year that fall nicely from the hues of orange and red sky. Maybe it’s the headache or the jealousy as you hear the excited shrills of the children outside the window having fun and throwing the cold ball of death to each other’s faces. It’s probably also the fact that you’re at the time of your month, the cramps around the underside of your stomach in addition to the scratchy itch on your throat that makes swallowing hard. 

In the end, this year’s Christmas has been wasted and you could only cry under the sheets alone, convincing your parents not to enter as you knew they had to return to work as soon as the holidays ended. You truly regretted your past naive and idiotic self for making a snow angel without proper winter battle clothes. The effect took a massive toll on your body, especially with the amount of hours you have been working and the stress of it all. The way you spent Christmas was lonely as you looked down to the ground floor where your family gathered, a warm blanket slouched on your messy, unwashed hair. The distance between your pout and their smiles wasn’t too far but because of your dying voice and their charged voice, even your mother could barely hear your Christmas greetings.

But, there was someone in your life who still barged into your highly contaminated room with his raccoon loverboy beanie and matching handmade raccoon scarf that you gifted for him this Christmas. Even with your refutes and arguments, he just shrugs, refusing to let you spend the holiday season time alone. 

Every year has always been the same at this time of the year. From when the clock strikes midnight when the jingle bells ring from the city hall up to your room, up until around noon, you would spend it with your family. From noon, when you and your best friend would be amazed at how the snowman still kept its shape up until around dinner time, you would be all over the neighbourhood with him. Then cues the opening of gifts underneath the green tree with ornaments from your grandparents’ age, the smile plasters on everyone’s faces as choruses of ‘thank you’s would be said. Three hours before Christmas day passes, you would retreat to your room, only to have a visitor open your door, the pile of snow between the strands of his hair making the wood of your floor a tripping hazard.

Every year has always been the same for you both and Kim Sunwoo is determined to make sure that it would still be that way. The boy has always made every single Christmas memorable from the day you both were in diapers to now. He made sure that Christmas this year isn’t wasted and he proves that solidly.

Now, another day of fighting begins as you pray for your fever to die down in time for the approaching new year. Contrary to your wishes, your whole body feels like it’s been shut down, feeling too effortful to even raise a finger despite it lying on your bed for the last twenty hours.

“Sunwoo…” The tears well up in your eyes, wishing that you could at least pick up the phone to hear his stories about the day. 

“I got you!” 

The door clicks open to reveal his toothy, mischievous smile. In one hand, a filled fabric bag is held as the other fist punches the sky eagerly. If you could, you would’ve chucked all the layers of fabric to the ground for all you care, clinging onto the boy like a koala. He understands the thoughts roaming in your head as soon as he sees the way the ceiling light highlights the sweat on your forehead and the moisture around the bottom of your eyes. 

The once-upturned corners of his mouth dipped and so did his shoulders. With his free hand, the door closed quietly. He slowly approaches you, kneeling on the floor beside your bed. Sunwoo takes his mittens off, tilting his head and his furrowed eyebrows match his solemn smile. 

“The new year is literally in three days and I’m still here all wrapped up like a mummy.” He unfolded one of the new towels on your bedside table, dapping the sweat away from your flushed face. “I hate this…”

Sunwoo couldn’t hide his true feelings either, missing having you healthy by his side for more than a whole week now. The night walks were now leaning more toward miserable than lonely. He misses the way you would wrap your nearest arm with his, the other hand loosely anchoring on as well as you both comment on whatever comes into your mind. It’s during those times that you would be so preoccupied with your words that the world around him becomes silent, looking down at the slope of your nose and the shape of your moving lips dearly. 

If you look up towards him, you can see the way that Sunwoo’s eyes relax and the corners of his lips lift just slightly, looking at you with utmost adore and affection. His cheeks would be red, not because of the chilly wind, but because his heart is telling him to just hold you close, confess and kiss you deeply into the night. 

It’s no exaggeration to say that the fluttering feeling in his heart, gave his body more warmth than the mittens, beanie, scarf and winter outfit.

“It’ll pass soon, don’t worry,” Sunwoo reassures you, straightening his legs and heading to your bathroom. There, he shrieks and the laugh from the joined room, where you lay in bed with a new cold wet towel on your burning forehead tells him that you did it on purpose. “I thought that was real!” His head peaks out slightly from the bathroom door with the toy cockroach in his hand, throwing it on the duvet where it conveniently plops upside down.

“I need some laughs, okay?” It only earned an eye roll from Sunwoo, who closed the bathroom door.

Your eyes widen at the familiar actions, the sprinkling of water confirming your thoughts.

“Sunwoo!” You scold him. “You can’t stay over! I’m literally sick!”

“I’ll be fine!”

These are the only words that he says, ignoring the rest of your complaints and nagging; he knows though, that it’s just because you care for his health and wellbeing.

Your lips could only form a big mountain when Sunwoo finally does exit your now sauna-like bathroom. He had his favourite raccoon onesie on, his used clothes in one hand and was supported with his chest to avoid it from toppling over his hold. A toothbrush is leisurely in his mouth, the frothing around the inside of his lips tells you that he has no second thoughts about staying over. 

“You can’t, Woo.” An exasperated sigh comes out as soon as he slips into the room. “Why don’t you ever listen to what I say?”

The toothbrush stops its rustling sound against his healthy, white teeth and you can tell from the way his hands land on the side of his waist that he has a complaint back about you.

“As if you’ll ever listen to me.” And the rustling continues with a tune of a song.

“Touche.”

There is one thing that changed from your usual sleepovers but again, you’re not complaining as it is the best choice. Sunwoo takes out the spare roll-up mattress after excitedly knocking on your parent’s room for help. You could hear how your parents are beyond surprised by the visit but you could only smile when you hear the way they scold Sunwoo for wanting to stay beside you with your condition.

For some odd reason, he was still able to walk back into your room, showing off the white fabric on his shoulder that he held, shoulder way too high for your liking as his pride replaces the gloomy atmosphere in the room.

“Make some sort of distance between you and my bed please.”

Your tone is no longer playful, almost tired and most definitely worried. Sunwoo nods, his lips pulling into a line. At this moment, when Sunwoo sets up his bed for the night away from you, you don’t realise the clench in your heart, your hand swishing over the space beside you where he would usually cuddle with you to sleep.

“This alright?” Pulling off his sparkly doe eyes, shooting you a smile that you couldn’t possibly refute. “Alright! Goodnight!” He cheers when you nod defeatedly.

With a flick of the switch, the only thing that allows you to see your covered feet is the moonlight from outside. Sunwoo is in a better position because the lower level means that your bed blocks the shine enough for him to slumber back to sleep.

For some reason, you couldn’t. Your body is still, your eyelids shut and your calm breathing would’ve fooled anyone that you were actually in dreamland. In reality, all you could hear was Sunwoo’s more soothing snores, the sudden feeling that nothing was covering you and the uncomfortable feeling of staying awake.

Your eyelids shoot open once more, staring at the lines and scratches that managed to make it there. Maybe it was a chaotic cat? Or a really strong spiky fly? Or maybe, a ghost? Continuing a questionable amount of ideas. You didn’t even realise when your body turned to the side where Sunwoo was. Without thinking much, your arm reaches for the expensive headpiece straight to the once-slumbering boy.

Disturbed between reality and dreams, his body immediately straightens up, turning his head at you. “Hey!”

“Sorry.” You did feel guilty, not knowing that your impulse actions would jolt him so much; but your laugh tells him that once again, you did plan it with some sort of naughty reason.

Like the antagonist of a scary movie, Sunwoo’s head dips down slightly, his bangs covering his eyes and his cheek rising with menacing thoughts in his head. Suddenly, he jumps over to the mattress, wiggling his fingers all over your body.

“S-Stop! Sunwoo!” He didn’t bother doing so, his heart delighted at the sound of your laughter after so long. “I’m sorry! I’m sorry, you pathetic raccoon!”

“Oh, you’re really asking for it!”

It’s a miracle that none of your parents didn’t woke up after almost five minutes of different volumes of laughter. After a week or so of copping up in your room, unable to properly see your best friend, he makes his mark on the winter holiday, knowing that every time you fall sick with a fever, you’ll recall this fun memory.

“Can’t sleep?” 

He retreats to the edge of the bed, his legs dangling. Yet, he has his full focus on the way your smile gradually falls into a frown. His hands move under the blanket, finding yours. As soon as he feels you, his fingers intertwine with yours. Automatically, your thumb caresses Sunwoo’s, calming enough for him to sleep. Eyelids heavy but not completely down yet, your brown orbs observe the way Sunwoo kneels beside you.

“Sunwoo…”

“Hm?” 

“Thank you for staying.” 

His eyes widen slightly but he then lets out a small chuckle. “Just doing your lovely parents a favour.” 

“No.” He gulps at your seriousness, watching the way that even though your back is facing the natural light source, the growing waters underneath your eyelids make his other hand reach out for you, the movement shaking your tears down. “I meant in life. Thank you for staying with me another year.”

Your eyelashes fluttered, the darkness quietly enveloping you. Sunwoo just lets out a soft sigh, your words making his heart beat too rapidly for him to sleep tonight. 

“I love you.” 

There…

He rehearsed the confession in the mirror many times, different scenarios each time, a different object in his hand every time as he imagined the perfect gift that he would give if he was ever given a chance to pour his feelings into you. A part of him wishes you heard it, hoping that you didn’t keep this friendship going. 

The mattress that he worked hard to retrieve from your parents is left untouched for the rest of the night. Forget about his well-being for a second, prioritising the love in his heart. Forget about being sick if it meant being able to hold you in his arms just like all those times. Forget about your scoldings that he would only stick his tongue out nonchalantly to. Sunwoo climbs on the opposite side, his usual spot in your bed. He carefully slips his body inside, the air a thousand times warmer, almost making him wince at the sudden temperature rise that he didn’t expect.

For one last time in the night, he wipes your forehead clean, pressing a lingering kiss on the area. Your body recognises the dip of the bed, turning to the other side and hiding your eyes from the glare of the night into Sunwoo’s beating chest. Perplexed but still somewhat composed, he lets you get comfortable first, both of your hands reaching up to the fabric of his collar, tugging it slightly as a satisfied smile makes its way onto your relaxed face. 

“I love you.” 

He says once more.

“I love you so much, bubs.” 

A little bit louder.

“I love you so much but,” He rests his head on the pillow, pulling you further into his embrace with his hand curling over the shape of your head. “I don’t think I can stay beside you next year.”

Unrequited love his whole life. 

The trade-off between friendship and love is too much for him to fully digest. 

But as the years pass, Sunwoo knows that there is nothing much he can do but drown in his uncertainties. At the same time, he’s no longer sure how much longer he could fake another smile towards you whenever you were taken out for dates. He’s no longer sure how to keep his heartbeat at bay whenever you accidentally whip your hair across his face whenever he scared you, and the way your first instinct is to squish his cheeks, frown and check up for any hurt on his beautiful face. He’s no longer sure if he could hide the urge to pull you into his chest whenever your fingers would lace together even during the hot summer days.

So Sunwoo made it clear to himself that tonight would be the last time he would bask in your presence. Another unsure kiss is given to your forehead and against the screamings inside his head, he follows his heart to press one on each of your closed lids, whispering loving words that he desperately wishes you would hear. 

“I’m thankful for you too.”

True to his words, Sunwoo is gone by the early morning, the white blob on the floor is gone and so are the used towels that you have used throughout the previous day. Judging from the coolness of the sheets beside you, he must’ve left some time ago and it left a bitter feeling in your whole being when he left no note that would usually snap the drowsiness in you to an immediate deadpan reaction, or contrary a dog video that would make up want to curl up and stay in bed for longer.

Three distinct knocks on the door tell you that your mum has breakfast ready but you can’t respond as enthusiastically as you usually would. 

“You’re looking better today, actually.” The plastic tray rests on the corner of your table. The now-occupied space reminds you of last night when Sunwoo used the same space for his worn-out backpack. Satisfied with the way your forehead is no longer burning and almost back to normal temperature, the woman nods and lets out a sigh of relief. “Must be the Sunwoo effect.”

It did make you forget your confusion for a second, the corners of your slumped lips pulling to a straight line. When you were once again left all alone in the room, the loneliness was unlike ever before. The charging cable is ripped away from your device, opening the messaging app to text Sunwoo a very formal, very awkward morning greeting. Your eyes bore into the bottom left of the screen, seeing if the familiar typing icon would pop out but after around four minutes of empty wishes, the way you shoved your phone under the pillow shows how crestfallen you are with his isolating behaviour. It continued for the rest of the day, your phone never buzzing because of him even though his social media activity shows him posting a new memory to share over the internet.

New Year is around a few hours and to you, it looks like Sunwoo has no plans to change his indifference towards you. Even when Eric says he would make sure that Sunwoo sends a message to you, the only thing that changed in your messaging status with him is the ‘delivered’ to ‘seen’ sign.

“The audacity of this little piece of sh—” 

Your fingers tapped rapidly first, and the floating tiles of your keyboard pour your conflicted emotions with a dash of empty threats to him. It’s infuriating that the only thing he did was still, left you on ‘seen’ but this time, in real-time. 

“Okay, fine!”

Why are you so defeated? Frustrated? Annoyed? Irritated? Worried? Sour? Confused? Are you really going to spend the rest of the year without him? Start the new one without him? Is he really breaking the streak of watching the fireworks together and being each other’s first ‘Happy New Year!’s with a bunch of jumping and squealing? 

Is he mad because you’re the reason why you can’t watch the flowers in the sky with him this year? But Sunwoo knows that you’ve been sick! But if he is, is he so mad to the point that he's going to break the streak of being each other’s first ‘Happy New Year!’s next year because of it? But between you both, you’ve always beaten him by a split second!

“Fine! Be that way then!” If the framed picture of you both had noise sensitivity, you’re sure that it would’ve cowered away and fallen straight to the bin next to it. “Ignore me then! Go have fun with the rest of your friends! Why’d you come here and act like you cared when you were just going to avoid me like this?!”

As if the whole universe isn’t seemingly against you already, the bunny doll that Sunwoo won for you smiled sweetly from the corner of your room. The rubber material of your slippers makes high-pitched slaps and your arms snatch the poor plush by its neck, shaking it back and forth as you start to let out all the cursing in all the languages that you know to the boy in your head.

“You got it!”

You couldn’t hide the excitement on your face as soon as the claw hovers in the hole of the machine, a few seconds away from delivering the prize to your hands. Sunwoo rejoices and is proud after winning against the rigged game with only the first try. 

You try to wait patiently for Sunwoo to give it to you, but the way that your upper body bounces, and the way your slightly wavy hair goes along with the motions of your body, only makes it harder for Sunwoo to properly hand you over the gift. You weren’t doing anything special but he was so in love with you that he couldn’t help but let out a shaky breath at the way your eyes sparkle to him—it didn’t help his case that you were cutely drowning in his jacket. 

“D-Do you love it that much?”

Would it be weird if he snapped a photo of you right now? When your cheeks are smushed against the bunny’s fluffy ones? Would it be weird if he wanted to set it as his wallpaper and just stare at it all day long?

“It’s so cute!” 

You indirectly answered, putting your full attention and affection to the animal in your hands. The way you bopped your nose with its own only fuels his adoration for you and because you’re so immersed in your birthday gift, Sunwoo did manage to get the picture that he desires.

Kim Sunwoo also had it as his lock screen, hiding it within a collage of other memories—it’s the reason why he’s been so protective over his phone for the last few months.

Having had enough of giving the inanimate animal a headache, you threw it onto the floor with a huff, blowing the loose strand of hair away from your vision. All of a sudden, the tears finally well up in your eyes and you let out silent croaked sobs. The hunched-over plushie is the catalyst for your head to replay the memories in your head. With your back against your bed, knees folded to your chest and the bunny sitting on top, the outside world blurs out of existence for a while.

Everything is just Kim Sunwoo.

From the way he smiles.

To the way he drools in his sleep.

From the way he would literally hide you from the outside world, arms enveloping and muffling your cries.

To the way he welcomes the series of punches on his chest because life is too much for you sometimes.

From the way he has your mum on speed dial in case he can’t reach you.

To the way that he would hop into the car to pick you up from your solo late-night, early-morning beach walks still in his pyjamas.

From the way he knew how to comfort you depending on the situation.

To the way he wouldn’t mind submitting his assignment late if it meant that you’ll be able to sleep peacefully.

Your face flares up, recalling the light pressure of his lips on your eyelids the other night and with it, the meaning behind your tight hold on the bunny becomes something entirely different. That’s all it takes for you to rush out the front door, your mum following your rushed actions with her eyes.

“Well,” she shrugs, eyes back to the television of her favourite Christmas movie, “that happened.”

So maybe you should’ve changed to snowing boots or something more appropriate than your slippers but in your body’s adrenaline to keep your body intact for another five minutes when you would reach Sunwoo’s house.

“You’re so—ugh!” 

The crystals falling from the sky are too uncomfortable and you know that you will be bedridden for longer after this but that’s not going to be your fault. Someone else will take the blame for this and you’ll make it clear for him.

It’s only when you reach the front door, hands on your bent knees, throat dry, nose red, cheeks most probably iced due to your tears and the weather that the words all evaporate from your head. Nothing seemed to make sense anymore and with the curtain from the living room open just enough for you to see Sunwoo snuggling in the couch with his cup of hot chocolate, the feelings that you have been hiding from him amplified greatly.

You’re so mad at him but you still think he looks cute with the blanket over his head, covering his shoulders and eyes focused so much to the point the colours of the graphics were being reflected on his eyes. Changing the direction from kicking down the front door, you decided to instead gather a lump of ice into your palm, striking it against the window where his face was. 

His body jolts back but it didn’t take long for his mind to register the white remnants crumbling on the glass, window frame and sill. It takes Sunwoo less than a second to take in your shivering figure on the other side of the window and he knows he’s going to get an earful from his mum when she sees the sweet and sticky drink on her carpet.

The coat hanger rattles and almost breaks an arm with how violently Sunwoo takes two of his warmest jackets, swiftly getting ready to meet the cold and starting blizzard outside. He automatically winced when nature slammed the door open, almost stubbing his toe—but maybe that’s his karma for leaving you on read for more than a whole day without a proper explanation.

Sunwoo took his focus away from the throbbing pain, skipping down the stairs, using the spiky handrail for support as he pushed his body up whenever he went down a step lower, relaxing when his feet landed on the ground safely. It’s only been a few minutes since he stepped out of his blanket but now everything is throbbing—his heart as well for a different reason.

Seeing you still facing the window, your hair flying all over the place, your chin basically on your chest, Sunwoo realises that he hurt you badly. Maybe he should’ve just been honest. If so, then at the very least, you wouldn’t chase him out like this when it looks like you just started to feel better. 

“Hey…” his feet make cautious little shuffles, scrunching the remaining mixes of nature and ice, kind of scared for his life that you would start to (rightfully) punch him. Thankfully, he got close enough to drape his jacket onto your shoulder, zipping up the front without asking you to put your arms. If it wasn’t for the fact that he ignored you, he would be teasing and asking you about what you are mulling over. “Let’s go inside, hm?”

Sunwoo sighs at your stubbornness when you shoved his arm away, feet planted on the ground.

“Go away.” 

His heart clenches at the way you probably meant that. It included a hint of hurt, broken the unanswered questions that were swarming your head.

“I’m sorry,” Sunwoo said so softly that you could’ve missed it if it wasn’t the way you were already actively focusing on him. “So please, let’s just get you inside. It’s my fault, I’m sorry.”

His palm goes over where his heart is and the other hand gives you a reassuring press. Sunwoo knew by the way you refused to look at him despite him bending over to meet your eyes, that this was going to be tough for you to listen to him.

But Kim Sunwoo is patient.

He’s always been patient and understanding when it comes to you. When his hands reach over to envelop yours, you don’t push away how he wraps his own between yours. Your heartbeat picks up its pace when he leads your joined hands into the pocket of his jacket, his thumb gliding over your skin. The act also sends your body closer to his, finally closing the gap between your bodies, sharing body warmth corresponding to the red hues on your cheeks.

Your lips now hover over his outwear and your nose takes his scent in, enjoying breathing in the familiarity after almost two days of no contact. Sunwoo bites his lips, nervous about having you in front of him and the way you tighten your hold on his hands tells him that you have a lot to say. 

“You don’t want to spend the first week of the new year bedridden, bubs.” Wordlessly and timidly, Sunwoo just scans over your facial features, his eyes roaming about while your eyes are stuck on his zipper which is halfway done.

“Don’t call me that…” Because it clicks open the surge of feelings that you have been trying to hide from him for the longest time. “Don’t…”

You were still half awake when he said his words.

Unknowingly to Sunwoo, you heard every single word that you have always wanted to say to him. That night, when his hand wrapped securely around your waist, you had the best sleep in your life, taking a mental note to talk about the topic later on.

Only to realise that you are both idiots with your feelings.

“I’m sor—”

“Stop apologising!” 

And it sends Sunwoo into a puddle of shock and confusion when your eyes send out a waterfall. He separates his hands from yours and they fly quickly to hold your cheeks. Stutters of more apologies string out and his thumbs weren’t fast enough to keep your face dry. 

“I’m sorry! I’m sorry too!”

“Hey, what are you sorry about? I’m the one who left you on read!”

“I’m sorry that I’ve never told you how much I appreciate you,” you hiccup before continuing, seeing a glimpse of Sunwoo’s gaping mouth, “I’m sorry that you’ve always been the one taking care of me and not the other way around,” and you see the way he shakes his head with furrowed eyebrows, “I’m sorry that I ever make you think that I don’t care about you!” 

“Hey, no. Don’t say that, I know you care abo—”

“I love you, Kim Sunwoo!” 

To him, even though Christmas has passed, he’s convinced that it’s a miracle for him. The night when he left to stay in your house, he innocently wished upon the shooting star, closing his eyes and hoping for your health and happiness—but he couldn’t help but also wish that you would love him back even though that’s out of his control.

But what can he do when he’s only loved one person and one person throughout his whole life?

“I’m sorry if I ever made you think that I like someone else because I can tell you now that all those dates I went to only made me sure that I’m so in love with you and you make me feel like I can just be myself when I’m around you and I also feel jittery when I’m around you and—”

This is not the type of confession that he has rehearsed for.

He guides your face into his chest, still sobbing and crying. As always, your hands weakly hit him, your lips still voicing out muffled confessions to him. Sunwoo’s arms wrap around your shoulders, the other on top of it. His head dips, his lips breathing out air near your ear, resting his forehead on his arm for stability. He wants to say something, anything to make sure that his avoidance doesn’t mean that he doesn’t love you back but all he wants to do is to just hold you closer to make it clear that no one could take you out on another date.

Only he can take you out on dates now.

You sniffle, catching your breath after letting your feelings out. The hold around you makes you melt, smiling before turning to where Sunwoo is. At your longing stare, his head shoots back up in surprise, tripping over his own words at how you look at him with beady, watery eyes in adoration. Shy Sunwoo is going to be a sight that you’ll get used to quickly, noting how adorable he is with how his eyes refuse to meet yours and his lips moving without any sound actually coming through.

“I love you.” 

You repeated quieter just for him so that he was the only one who could hear the words.

“I love you so much.”

You stood on your toes, planting a kiss on his chin.

“I love you so much but,” Sunwoo gulps with how you squinted your eyes, “if you leave my side next year, I won’t hesitate to throw a snowball to your face.”

“Oh God, please don’t do that.” Mortified and shaking his head, “I’m sorry, you win. I’ll do anything, just please have mercy on me.”

“Anything?”

Sunwoo gives a series of firm, convincing nods.

“Kiss me.”

The words took a while to register in his mind and he couldn’t help the breath hitching when he realised your request. Sunwoo almost stumbled backwards, your hands tug the fabric of his pockets, pulling him back to you and reality. It caused your foreheads to lightly bump and the impact made you wince at his stupidity. 

“I-I’m sorry! I-I’m—”

“Kim Sunwoo! There’s going to be a mark there! That hur—”

A pair of comforting hands hold your jawline, tilting your face to accommodate the height difference between the two once-best friends. When Sunwoo gets a better grip on himself, he quickly dives in when your lips part, swallowing your complaints and making his dreams come true. 

Double a decade—no, more than that. 

That’s how much he’s waited for this moment with you.

When his lips would slot against yours, hugging your top ones with his before pulling away to give the same amount of affection to your bottom ones. Your noses bump into each other slightly, making the moment seem real and fun, smiling and giggling when you both part for air. Shy and kind of embarrassed with how messy and uncoordinated it is but you both know you wouldn’t want to share each other’s firsts with anyone else. 

At this moment, it’s you and him in this world.

That’s how you ended the year. Clenched fist still inside his pockets, though that didn’t stop you from folding the fabric back so that you could have your arms wrapped around his middle to pull him closer. The sky soon blooms shortly after, and the happy firing noises illuminate the night sky, beating the dull light and colour of the moon that everyone sees every day. Because of the dynamic colours, Sunwoo is able to see the shades of the celebration mirrored on your skin, finding you more beautiful than ever before. 

Though beautiful, the fireworks did make Sunwoo roll his eyes when he seemingly needed to repeat variations of “Be my girlfriend!” even though you were less than ten centimetres away from his face. He knows after your third “What? I can’t hear you” that you were playing with him, giving you pecks of his lips across your face playfully, enjoying how your laughs neutralised the flowers in the sky. 

You ended the year with the start of a kiss with your best friend.

And start the new year with a new title for your ex-best friend.

With Kim Sunwoo, of course.

navi/masterlist!! 🤍 tags (send a dm/ask if you would like to be here!): @deoboyznet 📢❤️ @k-labels 💙🤍 @k-films 🤎🎞️ @kflixnet 📺🍿

[kilistina]

what happens here, stays here

word count: 9k-ish

disc. nsfw content ahead. mdni. includes fem!reader n eddie munson, a lot of angst, lowkey slow burn, smuuut n just hot shit tbh.

•••

You’re not sure exactly how you ended up here, but you did. Your friends had told you that there was a strange clock in the middle of the woods that made the birds flock together and the sky turn dark. You were curious, sure, but you didn’t intend on coming to see it all for yourself. But like always, you were forced convinced.

“So there’s this clock, right,” Your friend Sophie had the biggest smile on her face as she spoke about it, “Apparently Chrissy said it made weird noises the last time she was in the woods. Made the birds go crazy and everything.”

“We should go check it out.” Maise, one of your other friends chimed in. Everyone nodded in agreement and stood from their chairs, making their way out of the cafeteria.

“You coming, Y/N?”

“Uh, I don’t know,” You shrugged and tightened your grip on your bag, “I’m kinda tired and—”

Sophie held her hand up and you immediately stopped talking, knowing that she wasn’t going to listen to you if you kept going anyway. She grabbed your arm, pulling you towards her.

“All I’m hearing right now is a yes.”

You sighed and ended up giving in, walking with Sophie, Maise and your other friends towards the woods. One thing led to another and you were misdirected somewhere, and they all bailed on you to spend time with some of the boys on the basketball team.

The clock didn’t chime, the birds didn’t flock, the sky didn’t go dark. So it was safe for you to be left alone..right?

So here you are, abandoned in the woods with no clue where to go. You can’t even remember where you left your bag. All you can think about is how much you wish Steve and Robin were here with you right now. They’d know what to do.

“Stupid fucking family video.” You murmur to yourself as you trek through the woods, cursing at the fact that your only real friends are currently hung up with their jobs.

You knew you shouldn’t have come here. You knew that there was no point. You knew you couldn’t trust those girls. Yet here. You. Are.

The sound of the clock finally striking makes you jump, and you notice that the sky is starting to darken. Chrissy was right.

Wait—Chrissy was right??

You notice the birds all flying down from the sky, quickly getting lower and lower until they’re—

“Shit!” You duck your head down as they all fly past you. Your heart is about to beat out of your chest.

Once they’ve all flown away, you stand back up and begin speedwalking down the woods. You don’t know where you’re going, but what you do know is that you won’t be staying here for a second longer. Not willingly, anyway. You cross your arms over your chest and keep your eyes on the ground as you make your way. You’re stranded.

Your mind begins to wander to the most worrying outcomes imaginable. You start to picture all the different ways you could die out here. And there’s so many fucking ways.

A second bell toll makes you jump. You turn your head as you walk, checking if there are any more birds making their way to you dangerously quickly. Nothing.

Nothing behind you at least.

“Fuck!” You gasp and step back after bumping into someone. Your fear quickly dissipates into anger when you notice who it is that you bumped into.

“Woah, hey, sorry. Easy there,” Eddie holds his hands up, chuckling as he eyes you up and down. “Oh, it’s you,” His smile drops once he notices your face, “What are you doing here, Y/N?”

You hold your hand up to your chest, trying to catch your breath, “I could ask you the same thing, freak.”

“So original,” He rolls his eyes, taking a cigarette out from his back pocket, “I’m always around here. It’s where I handle business.”

You scoff, “Is that what you’re calling it now?”

He lights his cigarette and takes a drag, not bothering to answer you yet.

You two have been at each other’s throats for years now. It’s as if no matter what either of you do, no matter what you say, it always ends in someone getting hurt or annoyed. There’s always an argument that leads to irreversible disrespect. You despise each other, and there hasn’t been a single moment between the two of you where you haven’t made that clear.

“It’s what I’ve always called it,” Eddie finally answers you, giving you a dirty look, “Sweetheart.”

“Sweetheart? That’s new.”’ You shoot back a reply, making sure to keep your distance as you continue to walk. The last thing either of you want is to be close to each other.

Eddie stops walking for a moment to turn and face you.

“Yeah well annoying bitch kinda got old and lost its spark,” He shrugs, dropping his cigarette and stepping on it, “So sweetheart it is. You probably hate it more because it’s actually nice.” He’s right.

“I do,” You nod, unable to stop the humoured smile from showing on your face. Eddie smiles back at you.

You both smile for a second, laughing softly and almost enjoying each other’s company for once. You don’t know why, but it’s nice. It’s a strange new feeling—neither of you like it.

The laughter slowly fades and there’s a silence between the two of you again. An uncomfortable silence. Not the type of silence that you’d hope for, where you don’t have to listen to his annoying voice and he doesn’t have to listen to yours. The type where you both don’t know what to say.

The type of silence you’ve never had before.

“So,” You clear your throat, finally speaking up, “Where are your friends, freak?”

“I don’t have friends,” He murmurs with a low chuckle, laughing at his own joke, “Even if I did, I wouldn’t bring them out here.”

You smirk at him, “Why not? Worried they’ll get scared like you do?”

“I don’t like to mix my friends and my business. I came out here to do a deal and lost track of time,” He rolls his eyes and stays serious, not engaging in your attempts to piss him off, “Tend to do that a lot now.”

You purse your lips together to stop yourself from making another smartass remark as you both walk further. You have no idea where you are, and truthfully you hate the idea of Eddie being the only person who you can rely on to get you home safely.

“Where did you come from?” He asks, keeping his eyes in front of him. It’s typical for you both to take every possible chance not to look at each other.

“I don’t know, it all looks the same.” You murmur, feeling the fear start to creep back in. You’re stuck in the woods with someone you despise—who despises you right back—you have no idea how you’re going to get home, and shit is getting real.

“Do you remember something? A log? A tree? Something distinguishable? Anything?” Eddie’s voice breaks you out of your overthinking for a moment.

“There was a table,” You narrow your eyes in thought, “Big and circle. Had a black, uneven guitar drawn on the side of it.”

Eddie nods, seeming to know what you’re talking about, “Fucking love that dumb black guitar. It’s so metal.”

His words make you scoff and you stop walking. He stops as well, turning to face you and you finally share some eye contact.

“You drew it yourself, didn’t you?” You guess, pretending to sound serious.

His face scrunches up in defence, “So what if I did?”

“Brilliant..” You exhale, holding your hand up to your forehead, “Let’s go. I don’t think I can stand to be near you for another minute.”

“Touche,” He eyes you up and down with narrowed eyes, holding his arm out in front of him, “Anyway, ladies first right? After you, milady.”

You roll your eyes and quickly walk past him, knowing that he’s only going to overtake you and guide you to wherever you need to go. He just wants to wind you up as much as possible before that, first.

After ten minutes of silent walking, you both end up at the circle table, and for a moment you smile to yourself knowing that you can finally go home. Eddie helped you, who woulda thunk it?

“Circle table, metal guitar drawing, middle of nowhere. This is what you were looking for, right?” Eddie smirks at you, proud of himself for helping you. It takes every muscle in your body to stop yourself from rolling your eyes at him, but you don’t, knowing that if it wasn’t for him you’d still be lost in the middle of nowhere.

Instead of thanking him, you stay silent. He enjoys it.

You’re happy and relieved for a split second, before you realise something.

“Right well, if we’re done here then..” Eddie begins to step away, stopping once he notices the worried expression on your face, “You okay?”

“My bag, it’s—it’s gone.” You bend over and begin to look under the table for any sign of it.

“Gone? What do you mean gone?” He kneels, helping you look under and around the table for your bag.

“I mean I left it here and it’s not fucking here anymore, Eddie!” You raise your voice, running your hand through your hair as you stand up.

“Well,” Eddie slaps his hands on his knees, standing back up, “You’re fucked.”

You scoff, “Brilliant.”

He takes a step towards you, looking like he might say something. You mentally prepare yourself for an argument and keep your gaze firm on him, refusing to back down. He notices, and sighs, deciding against speaking yet. Instead, he turns around and begins to walk again. You follow him.

“Where are you going?” You sound annoyed, but not as annoyed as you actually are. You know you’ve been pushing your luck with him and you don’t want to risk him leaving you out here on your own. You need his help. More of it.

“Did you have anything valuable in your bag?” He ignores your question and asks his own.

You shrug, “Just books from school and—” Your eyes widen, “—my keys..”

He stops walking and turns to face you, “Keys for what?”

You stay silent out of shock.

“Y/N..keys for what?”

You groan, “My house.”

He sucks in a sharp breath, grinding his teeth together, “Shit.”

You can’t believe what’s happening. Not only were you left here by people who forced you to come with them—people who you considered friends—but now you’re don’t know where you are and you’ve lost your bag. You’ve lost your only way home with it.

And now you’re stuck here with Eddie fucking Munson.

“Yeah,” You scoff quietly to yourself at how easily you’ve ended up in such a horrendous situation, “Shit.”

“Okay, what about your parents?” He points at you, trying to spit ball some suggestions.

“I don’t have parents.” Your comment is crude but Eddie doesn’t seem fazed.

“Fuck me, same,” He replies quickly and moves on to thinking about what to do, “Uh..we’ll just have to—”

“Where are we?” You cut him off and look around where you are, trying to see if there’s any trace of the school or the rest of the town.

Nothing.

Eddie sighs, pressing his fingers to the bridge of his nose, “Y/N, please, one issue at a time.”

You cross your arms over your chest, making him sigh, “It’s too dark to tell. We’ll just have to walk far enough to see something in the distance. A car, a house, anything really. That’ll let us know where we are.”

“Don’t you have a flashlight?” You let out an aggravated breath.

“A flashl—“ Eddie scoffs, “Do I look like I have a—no seriously, what part of me screams I carry a flashlight with me everywhere I go to you?” He swings his arms around theatrically and you roll your eyes at him. He’s always so fucking dramatic.

“It’s dark, Y/N,” Eddie gives you a fake exaggerated smile, dropping it in a second, “But it’s not that dark. I can still fucking see you and those eyes.”

“You know what, why don’t you fucking bite me Eddie? How about that? How about you—“

Before you can start going off at Eddie for how excrutiatingly annoying he is, he yells to “Watch out!” and grabs a hold of your arm, pulling you down to the ground and falling on top of you.

Everything happens so quickly and you’re taken by surprise, too much to even react. All you do is gasp and look up ahead of you, noticing two bats flying past the two of you.

You figure that Eddie was trying to help you again somehow, even though those two bats couldn’t have done a single thing to harm you. They weren’t swarming you, they weren’t even flying at that fast of a pace like the other birds were from earlier. They were just..there. Just existing.

You shift your gaze back to Eddie, who’s looking down at you. Your faces are close..too close. For some reason, neither of you are moving.

You feel his hands right where they were before, on your waist holding you in place. Your eyes move down to where he’s holding you, and that’s when he snaps out of his daze. He quickly moves his hands off of you, standing up and clearing his throat.

“S—sorry, there were just—the bats were uh—“ Eddie scratches the back of his neck awkwardly, struggling to get his words out.

“There were two bats, Eddie. Two. It was nothing.” You chuckle, patting your shirt down as you stand back up, “What, are you scared of them or something?” You don’t put much thought into your comment—you just want to make fun of him for something stupid.

But his reaction to you—the way his entire body stiffens and his jaw tenses, the way his eyes narrow, the way he grits his teeth together for a moment—you can tell that this hits a little too close to home. Even for him.

 “Just feel weird,” He shrugs, clearly playing down his fear and deflecting, “Always feel weird when I see bats.”

You might not be the smartest person, but you’re smart enough to realise that there’s something about this that Eddie isn’t telling you. You’re not friends though, so he doesn’t owe you anything—including an explanation. 

You decide against pestering him over it further, and you both continue to walk down the woods in silence, in search of a smoking gun.

•••

You’re not sure how long it’s been, but you’re exhausted. You’re cold, your feet hurt, your minds an absolute mess and you have no idea where you’re going to sleep tonight.

You pretend to be distracted by the trees around you, looking around as you walk to avoid looking in Eddie’s direction. He notices but he doesn’t say anything.

You take a deep breath to compose yourself before speaking up, “How much longer till we’re out of here?”

“When I’m lost? Normally takes an hour, give or take.”

You nod and cross your arms over your chest, accepting it. Eddie notices your demeanour before he turns his back to you.

“You okay?” He asks, almost sounding like he gives half a fuck about you. Almost.

He keeps walking, not bothering to look at you and wait for your reply. Again, you both despise each other. But at least he’s trying. At least he’s asking you questions.

“It’s dark and I’m cold,” You murmur, “So no.”

He chuckles, “It’s the middle of the night and we’re in the woods.”

You let out an exaggerated sigh, “Alright hotshot, show me the way home then since you know everything.”

“I will,” He nods, turning briefly to give you a smirk before continuing to walk next to you, “You can stop doing that by the way.”

“I’m not doing anything. I’m just sick of you running your mouth instead of taking me home.” You let out another sigh.

“That,” He turns and clicks his fingers, pointing at you and narrowing his eyes, “Right there. See? You’re doing it again.”

“Doing what?” You scoff in defence.

Eddie tenses his jaw for a moment and you can’t help but smile to yourself, knowing that you’re getting on his nerves the same way he’s getting on yours.

“Acting like you somehow know better just ‘cause you’re pretty.” He murmurs, running a hand through his hair.

“You think I’m pretty?” You put your hand on your chest and pretend to be flattered by his comment. What is it they say about karma?

He rolls his eyes, “Knew you’d say that.”

You smile softly and exhale a quiet laugh from your nose, rubbing your hands together to warm yourself up, “You seriously don’t think I’m better than you?”

“Well I don’t see you finding your own way home,” He shakes his head and sighs, shaking his jacket off, “Anyway, take this.”

“You don’t have to—”

“Just take it and shut up.”

He holds the leather jacket in front of you and you take it. Under any other circumstance—seriously, any—you wouldn’t have accepted his jacket even if it would kill you not to, but tonight is the exception. The only exception, you think to yourself.

You wear his jacket quickly, crossing your arms again to warm yourself up quicker. It’s too dark to make out where you are, so you stay close behind Eddie as he leads you wherever he’s decided to go now.

“Where are we going?”

He sighs, “Since you can’t get back into your own place and your friends left you to die, mine is the only other option.”

“Absolutely not.” Your reply is instant, and you stop walking to take off his jacket and hand it back to him. He stops shortly after, turning to face you.

“No?” He arches a brow at you, almost teasingly.

“I’ll just stay at Steve’s or Robin’s.” You murmur as you roughly throw his jacket back to him.

“Alright,” He nods his head, taking a step towards you to see your face better, “You know the way to either of their houses?”

You do.

“..From where we are?”

You don’t.

“Because I sure as hell don’t. And they don’t know the way to mine.” He stares at you pensively, waiting on a reply.

“Fuck my life,” You groan, walking ahead of him to avoid seeing the smug look on his face, “Fine. Let’s just go.”

“Don’t sound so happy about it, Y/N.” You can hear the smirk on his face from behind you.

•••

The next half hour is typical. You both throw nasty comments at each other but for the most part it’s okay—better than you would think it would be between the two of you, all things considered. About ten minutes into the walk he hands you his jacket back. He claims he gave it to you so that you’d shut up and stop complaining about how cold you are but, what he won’t tell you is that for whatever reason, he didn’t like the idea of you being cold.

And although you’ll never admit it to him out loud, you’re grateful that Eddie’s letting you stay the night at his place. It’s dark and cold—probably one of the coldest nights of the year—so you’re glad that you can at least sleep in a bed with a blanket to keep you warm.

Even if it is Eddie’s.

Eventually you both reach the door to his trailer. He turns to face you for a moment, as if to ask you if you’re sure about this. You nod at him and that’s all he needs—he opens the door and within a second you’re finally inside.

“Right so, this is me,” Eddie leads the way and walks you over to his room, “You can wear something from my closet if you’re desperate. There should be a spare toothbrush in the bathroom from when Wayne stayed the night and opened a pack of two.”

You nod and he leaves the room to give you a moment to yourself. Instead of using it to change or get ready for bed after the day you’ve had, you use it to snoop. You look around his room in hopes that you’ll find something embarrassing to make fun of him for.

You open his closet, silently thanking the gods that despite the fact that he’s always wearing the same clothes, he seems to own many more.

You grab one of his Hellfire shirts—which of course, he has plenty of—and you begin to strip. You take your clothes off, sucking in a huge breath of fresh air as soon as you’re in the clean shirt. It’s Eddie’s, but it’s nice.

“You okay in there?” You hear his voice from behind the door, and again, you can hear the smirk on his face.

“Fuck off, freak.”

He takes that as his answer, opening the door and walking in.

“Now, that’s no way to treat a—” Eddie stops midsentence as he walks through the door to find you standing there in nothing but his shirt. He isn’t wearing one himself. He’s shirtless, wearing nothing but a pair of black sweatpants that sit low on his hips.

He arches his brow at the fact that you’re actually wearing his clothes, but he quickly looks back up at your face, not giving you any sort of satisfaction in knowing you’ve surprised him, “—wait, you’re the guest. I could literally kick you out any second,” He walks past you to get to the bathroom, pointing his finger in your face, “Watch your mouth, Hellfire Queen.”

You roll your eyes, choosing to stay quiet so he doesn’t actually kick you out. You don’t look at him as he passes you either, instead focusing on his record player that’s conveniently in front of you. It doesn’t last long and you end up turning your head back around to catch another glimpse of him.

You’re both as exposed as you’ve ever been in front of each other, and neither of you know how to act.

“Speaking of mouths, I’m gonna brush my teeth. Don’t mind me.” He gives you a fake, exaggerated smile as he steps into the bathroom.

You return the fake smile, “Be my guest.”

“Hilarious.” He replies flatly, making you laugh.

He stares at himself in the mirror, pretending to play the guitar with his toothbrush for a moment before he covers it in toothpaste and puts it in his mouth.

“Freak.” You call out to him and he smiles at you with a mouthful of toothpaste, nodding in agreeance.

“Mhmmmm.” He winks at you and turns back towards his mirror, brushing his teeth and swaying his hips to some imaginary beat he’s humming along to.

Your eyes wander to his torso. You don’t know why but while he’s in front of you—you might as well. He has a tattoo on his chest that you’ve never seen, you’ve never really looked closely enough to notice it until now. He also has faint scarring across the side of his hip—again, something you’ve never seen.

“You gonna keep staring at me, or?” His voice is muffled from the toothpaste in his mouth but you can still hear the smugness. You don’t answer him straightaway, thinking of a good way to word what you want to say to him.

You want to ask him about his hips. Knowing Eddie, he’d think scars like that are metal. So why are they some sort of secret? Why don’t you know about them? Why doesn’t anybody know about them?

“What are they from?” You ask, deciding to be direct as you nod your head towards his scarring.

He pauses for a moment as if he’s surpised by your question. As if nobody’s ever asked him that before. As if he never expected anyone to.

He spits out his toothpaste and rinses his mouth, running his wet hands over his face a few times afterwards. He takes a small towel and roughly rubs his face dry with it—nothing you wouldn’t expect from him. You wait patiently for him to reply to you as he starts to tie his hair back into a low bun.

“Bats.”

As soon as the answer leaves his lips, everything falls into place. Everything makes sense. Why he was experienced with the woods, why he noticed the bats before you did, why he got so scared by them even though he wasn’t scared by a single other thing you were both faced with on the way home—and there were many things and animals that were arguably more scary than a few bats.

Now it all made sense.

You don’t need to know any more, you know enough.

You both exchange a knowing glance at each other and you look away to try and focus on something else to ease the awkward tension that’s bound to build up any second now. Your eyes fixate on a box of condoms that Eddie has sitting on top of his bedside table. You scoff and reach for it.

“Looks like you get around.” You hold up the box of condoms, smirking at Eddie as he runs a hand over his dry face.

He smirks back at you, walking out of the bathroom and snatching the box from your hands, “What’s it to you?”

You narrow your eyes at him, “Whore.”

He narrows his eyes back at you, leaning close to your face, “You love it.”

Your eyes instinctively move down to his lips for a split—a split—second and he steps back once he realises how close you two actually are. Neither of you are going to mention it, but you both know that you were a little too close to each other just then. And you liked it? Wait, did you like—

“Normally I’d make you sleep on the couch but I can’t be bothered to hear whatever shit you have to say about it,” Eddie sighs, trying his best to act natural, “You can take the bed.”

You roll your eyes, “Always such a gentleman.”

“Yeah, fuck you too,” He snorts, “You better not be here when I wake up.”

“Believe me, the second the sun rises I’m out of here.” You let out a playful scoff and he smiles at you for a moment before walking out of the room to leave you on your own.

You almost want to take the opportunity to snoop in his room again and see if he has anything else you could tease him about, but instead of going through his things and putting that extra effort in, you quickly graze size the room up with your eyes. It’s full of things you’d expect. Nothing surprises you. A few porn magazines, some cds, a record player, an electric guitar which you just know he tires himself with everyday, some unrolled joints, a pack of scattered cigarettes, lighters, an ashtray, condoms, guitar picks.

Again—things you’d expect.

After quickly skimming over his room, you walk into the bathroom to freshen yourself up. Your eyes fall to Eddie’s toothbrush and you’re reminded of how he was dancing earlier as he brushed his teeth. Something so simple but..oddly nice? Anyway.

You brush your teeth, wash your face, and somehow you’re still thinking about Eddie and his stupid dancing.

You walk over to the side of his bed and lay down, ignoring your thoughts and sinking into the bed, smiling to yourself at how surprisingly comfortable it is. Fuck knows what Eddie’s gotten up to in this bed. Eh, ignorance is bliss.

You try and shake the thoughts from your head and lay back, pulling the covers over yourself and staring up at the ceiling.

Unbeknownst to you, Eddie’s doing the same thing down the hall. Laid across the couch, unable to sleep, eyes glued to the same ceiling.

“Fuck it,” He whispers to himself and gets up from the couch, making his way over to where you are—in his bed. You hear his footsteps and quickly turn to your side, closing your eyes and pretending to be asleep so you don’t have to speak to him.

He stares at the closed bedroom door for a moment, debating if he should walk in. Why does he even want to? Why can’t he? It’s his room. But you’re in it. Why are you in it?

The door creaks open and you shut your eyes tighter even though he can’t see them.

You hear him let out a chuckle, “I know you’re awake, Y/N.”

You groan.

“And I know you’re an ass,” You argue back and turn your head to look at him, glaring, “Where do we go from here?”

He’s leaning against the doorframe with his arms crossed over his chest, a smirk on his face, “Wherever you’re willing to go.”

He walks over to where you are, leaning down to get something from his bedside table. A cigarette.

“D’you want one?”

You shake your head, “Do you have anything stronger?”

“Stronger? Like what?”

“I dunno,” You start but hesitate, glancing up at the ceiling for a moment as if it’s gonna help you, “Weed?”

He raises his eyebrows, almost looking impressed, “You smoke?”

“Wouldn’t mind trying it out.” You shrug.

“Yeah, that’s a hard pass,” He scoffs and places the cigarette between his lips, lighting it, “I’m not about to deal with whatever you become when you’re high for the first time.”

“Whatever I become? What the hell’s that supposed to mean?” You frown, offended.

He inhales a puff from his cigarette, “Nothing,” His eyes are back on you, “It’s just—you’re already unbearable enough when you’re sober. I can’t imagine what you’d be like all greened out.”

His face looks as serious as ever. You know he’s only saying this to get a reaction out of you but fuck—he’s great at it.

“Take that back.” You defend yourself with furrowed eyebrows, shoving his chest.

He scoffs and shoves you back, “I’m not taking shit back.”

“Eddie,” You raise your eyebrows at him, showing him you’re serious, “Take that back.”

“Y/N,” He mimics you, not backing down, “I’m not taking it back.”

You scoff at him and he smirks, knowing that he’s pushing all the right buttons to get the reaction he wants out of you. You’re so mad at him—so beyond mad—and the way he looks isn’t helping. His perfectly messy hair, his dimples, his tattoos, his smirk..

He’s just such a—

“You’re such a fucking asshole.” You scold him, mad that he’s enjoying this so much more than you are.

He puts his cigarette out on the ashtray by his bedside table, smirking and leaning towards your face to taunt you, “You’re such a fucking bitch.”

That’s it.

That’s all it takes for you to completely snap. You’re sick of Eddie always having something to say to you. You’re sick of the fact that he’s so unbothered by you. You’re sick of the fact that he’s exactly like you.

You push his chest and his back hits the headboard. He lets out a low scoff, still smirking.

“Once. Just once I want you to shut up and not say anything back to me. Just fucking once I want you to—"

“Stop, Y/N.” He tenses his jaw, starting to get worked up too. But you’ve started it now, and you won’t stop just because he’s asking you to.

“No!” You scoff, raising your voice and standing up from the bed. Eddie stands up with you, jaw set tightly as you keep yelling at him, “I’m sick of it!”

“Y/N, sweetheart—” He starts out, walking towards you and reaching for your arm lightly. That only angers you more.

You pull your arm away from him, “Don’t sweetheart me! I’m so sick of you always—"

For once, you know exactly what to say. You know exactly what you want to scream at Eddie. You want to tell him how annoying he is, how smug he is, how much you hate his bratty personality and how much you just want him to kiss you.

Somehow, he beats you to it. In the midst of your rambling, he’s moving himself onto you. His hands cup your face, guiding your mouth to his in a rough, needy, overdue kiss.

You kiss him back for a moment—you tell yourself it’s a reflex but it’s not—before coming to your senses, pushing him off of you and slapping him across the face.

“What the fuck, Eddie?” You yell out to him and wipe your mouth with the back of your hand, your eyes widened at the fact that he did that..and at the fact that you enjoyed it. Details.

“Did you just—did you just hit me?” He holds his hand to his cheek, frowning at you.

“Did you just kiss me?”

His face softens. He swallows, staying silent.

Eddie kissed you. You slapped him. Neither of you can decide which is worse.

“I..” He sighs, trying to think of an excuse and opting to pin the blame on you, “You kissed me back.”

You scoff, denying it, “Did not.”

“You didn’t?” He arches a brow, as if to challenge you.

You nod as he takes a step towards you, closing the gap between the two of you. You fidget under his gaze, which is odd. First time for everything though, right..?

His eyes are low and his lets his tongue lightly graze over his bottom lip, looking at you in a way he’s never looked at you before. In a way he’s never looked at anyone before.

“No,” Your voice fades out as he leans down towards your face, “I didn’t..”

You both stare at each others lips, knowing what’s about to happen. The only question is, who’s going to be the first to crack?

“Eddie..” Your voice comes out as a whisper, your eyes still on his lips. He shushes you softly and the feeling of his lips hovering over yours sends you over the edge. You bite on the side of your bottom lip, almost whining at how desperate you are to feel him against you again.

“Fuck it,” He whispers, leaning down that little bit more and reconnecting your lips for a second kiss that you’re quick to reciprocate. Your hand pulls his face down to yours by his neck, deepening the kiss as he lets out a moan against you. You smirk and pull away for a moment, looking up at his hooded eyes.

“You did that time,” He whispers, “You kissed me back that time.”

“Shut up,” You lean forward, kissing him a third time. His lips are on yours again, moving desperately against you. His tongue is hot against yours, his teeth lightly biting down on your bottom lip.

It’s clear in this moment that you’ve both wanted this for a while—much longer than either of you will ever admit.

“What happens here stays here, right?” He murmurs against your lips.

You nod, “What happens here stays here, yeah.”

His hands spread out across your back, finally resting on your hips where he digs his fingers into your skin. You hum in satisfaction and tug on his hair. Your kiss is fast and needy, you’ve both wanted this for so long. Too long.

As fast as you’re kissing each other, you’re still both making sure to savour the moment. Making sure to savour how each of you feel, how you taste. Neither of you want to forget how this feels. You’ve both craved each other for so long and now you finally have each other right where you want.

You start to slowly move your hands from Eddie’s neck, moving them down to his chest. He pulls away and rests his forehead against yours for a moment. Your breathing is shallow as you watch him step back, reaching for the hem of his sweatpants.

“No,” You step forward and grab his hand, stopping him, “Let me.”

He moves his hand away and nods his head slowly, his lips parted in anticipation as you reach for his sweatpants and slowly pull them down. His eyes close and he lets out a breath of relief. Your mouth waters at the sight in front of you. He’s hard—so painfully hard.

You’re about to drop to your knees when Eddie grabs a hold of your throat, making you gasp.

“Not yet, sweetheart,” He murmurs, “Ladies first, remember?”

You look up at him with lust and he steps forward, pushing you back onto the bed with his hand still wrapped firmly around your neck. You let yourself fall back against the bed, propping yourself up on your elbows as Eddie crawls on top of you and begins trailing kisses down your neck.

He tugs at the hem of your shirt and you take the hint, sitting up for a moment so he can pull it over your head. He unclasps your bra easily, and your breath hitches at the feeling of the cold air against your skin.

“Fuck, Eddie,” You moan out his name and he groans. His fingers brush against your nipples, making you suck in a sharp breath. The simplest touches from him drive you crazy.

“Poor baby,” He taunts you with a smirk, “So worked up and I haven’t even started yet.”

You try to contain your next moan, not wanting to give him the satisfaction of hearing it, but you can’t. He feels so good.

“Want me to taste you?” Eddie’s voice is low in your ear, “Hm?”

You let out a quiet whine.

“Want me to let you ride my face with that pretty pussy?” He taunts, wanting you to speak.

“Fuck, E,” Your voice comes out as a whisper. You can’t form a thought, let alone speak one into existence.

“Answer me,” He prods, smirking against the skin on your neck, “Now.”

You look at him with pleading eyes, hoping that he’ll accept that as your answer. He smirks, unsatisfied, clicking his tongue.

You gasp as he digs his teeth into your neck, closing your eyes at how good it feels, “Yes.”

“Properly.” His teeth are rough on the side of your neck, where he sucks harshly on your skin.

“Eddie—fuck—” You choke out a reply and he chuckles, moving his lips from your neck.

He trails his hands down your chest, past your stomach and rests them on your thighs. He’s so close to where you want him, but not close enough. He knows it, you know it. He’s torturing you.

“Take it off,” He breathes out, running his hand along your thighs to tug on your skirt.

You lean back, opening your legs, “Take it off yourself.”

You don’t have to say it again. He smirks, reaching for the zipper and pulling it down, sliding your skirt off you. His breathing is heavy and eager.

“Tell me what you want,” He lowers his voice to a whisper, “Say it.”

Your breathing slows, your eyes down on his pretty face as he looks back up at you.

“Want your mouth on me, E,” You whisper, groaning when you see him arch an eyebrow at you, “Please.”

You’re desperate. Desperate for something. Anything.

“Good girl,” He looks into your eyes while he kisses down your body, moving his mouth down lower and lower, “Wasn’t so hard now, was it?”

You feel his hands across your thighs, his eyes still burning into yours asking for permission to keep going. You bite your lip impatiently and nod, holding yourself up on your elbow, using your other arm to reach over and push his head down lower toward where you want him. He gladly moves his head down, pressing a kiss to you over your panties. Your breathing staggers and you know you’re going to struggle to keep a hold of yourself.

Eddie’s eyes don’t leave your body as he quickly pulls your panties down, throwing them to the side and hooking one of your legs over his shoulder. He smirks at the scene in front of him. You’re on display for him. He’s never seen anything so beautiful.

“Give me something, freak.” Your words come out as a pained whisper, which only makes Eddie laugh. God—you hate him.

“All this for me?” His voice is low, his mouth hovering over your centre.

You huff, grinding your crotch up in the air for some friction, “Hate you.”

He smirks at you, knowing that that’s far from the truth, “You too, baby. Even when you’re getting on my fucking nerves though,” He leans forward, kissing your clit, “You’re still so pretty,” He licks a stripe up your centre, “So fucking pretty.”

Your mouth falls open and a silent moan leaves your lips, your eyes closing at the feeling of his warm tongue moving against you. He dips his tongue between your folds, licking up to your clit and all the way back down again. You’re sure you won’t make it, you won’t last long when he’s doing this. You can feel your stomach curling already.

He closes his lips around your clit, moving his tongue against your skin and slipping his middle finger into you.

“E—Eddie—” His name sounds like music coming from your mouth, “Your rings—” You’re cut off by your own moan as he starts to move his finger inside of you. You struggle to keep your eyes open, looking down at him to see him smirking up at you. He doesn’t care. He’s going to keep them on while he’s inside you.

His hand stays gripped on your thigh, his tongue matching the movements of his finger as he adds a second one in.

A whimper slips from your mouth, “Fuck.” You’re a mess. He’s a mess. You love it. He loves it.

“Taste so good, Y/N.” He whispers, smirking and moving his mouth faster to taste more of you.

“Please, Eddie,” You throw your head back, closing your eyes, “Don’t stop.”

He moans against you and your eyes open at the feeling, your mouth dropping at how good he’s making you feel.

“Name sounds so good when you say it,” His movements quicken, “Especially like that.”

“Mm, Eddie..”

A few minutes of Eddie’s fingers and mouth working on you, mixed with praise—“You look so pretty, baby”, “Taste so good”, “Such a good girl for me, aren’t you?”—and you’re crying out as your orgasm takes you.

Eddie makes sure not to leave an inch of your skin untouched, letting you ride your high out on his face. He leaves his tongue laid out flat against you and smiles as you mindlessly grind onto him until you physically can’t anymore.

“So fucking good for me,” He murmurs more praise as he climbs on top of you and hovers his mouth over yours, “Think you can be better?”

You nod and he holds his fingers up to his mouth, sucking himself clean as he stares into your eyes. You bite your lip, watching him as he moans around his fingers, still holding the eye contact. When he’s done, you bring your lips to his, grazing your tongue over his and tasting yourself.

You run your fingers through his hair, tugging at it to make him move his head back. He lets out a quiet groan and looks at you with hooded eyes. You begin to move your hands down his body as he moans into your mouth. Now it’s his turn to feel good.

He stops kissing you back for a moment, in awe at how a simple touch is making him feel. You look up into his eyes and he looks down into yours, holding the eye contact as you slowly move your hands further down his body.

“Open, sweetheart.” His voice is low as he lightly tugs your bottom lip down with his fingers, eyes locked on yours. You relax your mouth and let him open it for you. He leans down and a string of saliva slowly falls from his mouth into yours.

You’ve never experienced something like that before. Something so simple has you wetter and more worked up than you’ve ever been.

You lightly push him down by his shoulders, making the two of you switch places so that you’re straddling his lap. You watch his Adam’s apple bob when he leans his head back against the headboard, his breathing rugged as you begin to touch him through his boxers.

You place a kiss to the side of his neck before slowly making your way down, kissing past his chest and his stomach. You stop by his hip, where his scars are. His battle scars.

Looking up at him for a moment, you gauge his reaction. His eyebrows are furrowed—he’s confused. He’s not sure what you’re thinking or what you’re about to do. But he’s comfortable.

You give him a soft smile before looking back at his hip and leaning your mouth down to kiss across it. He sucks in a breath and you smile against his skin, feeling how much he’s loving the surprise act of intimacy. He reaches one of his hands down and intertwines it with yours, raising your hand up to his mouth to kiss your knuckles.

You pull away from his hip and straddle his lap, leaning your body over his and moving your lips against his. You let your fingers push at the band of his boxers. He moans into your mouth.

You take your chance and dip your hand into his boxers, grabbing his cock and slowly stroking it. Eddie moans and tries to move his hips with the pace of your hand, struggling to kiss you back. You move your lips to his jaw, trailing kisses down to his neck and shifting until your face is level with his crotch. You look up at him and smirk, pulling his boxers down and freeing his cock from them. Fucking hell.

You look up at him, impressed. He scoffs at your reaction, “Don’t look so surprised.”

You giggle and reach down, slowly stroking his length and planting a soft kiss to his tip before lubing it up with your saliva. He sighs at the feeling, leaning into your touch as you continue to run your hands along his body.

It takes you a second to wrap your mouth around him properly, taking him in as far as he’ll go. The tip of his cock hits the back of your throat with every thrust of your head as you swirl your tongue around him, feeling as much of him as you can. You keep your eyes glued to him, loving the reactions he’s giving you.

His moans are criminal.

You squeeze your thighs together at the way his mouth hangs open, his eyes closing at how good you feel around him.

“That’s it,” He nods at you, out of breath, “Good girl.” His fingers grip into the back of your hair as he brings you down further.

You’re not struggling as much as you expected to. After all, you want him. So fucking bad—and you’re about to make him feel it.

“Thaaaat’s it. Yeah, fuck.” He speaks through gritted teeth, fucking into your mouth and letting out a string of loud moans. Your breathing is laboured, but you’re enjoying yourself, feeling like you could do this forever.

With a few more thrusts of his hips, he’s pushed over the edge. He tastes better than you imagined.

You lick your lips and lean forward, kissing his neck as he comes down from his high.

“You ready to take all of me, baby?” He asks you, his breathing erratic.

You answer him with a kiss to his lips, slow and sensual. He smiles against you and keeps a hold of your waist, savouring you.

“Wanted this for so long.”

There it is. You’ve wanted to hear it from him for as long as you can remember and there. It. Is.

You smile at his admission, making your own, “Wanted this for longer.”

“You gonna give it to me?” Eddie pulls back for a moment, looking up into your eyes and biting his lip.

His voice. The desperation in it. The things he’s saying. The way he’s moving against you. He needs you just as much as you need him. More, even.

You decide to answer him with actions rather than words, reaching between the two of you and wrapping your fingers around him. You give him a few slow pumps, his mouth opening at the feeling. You make sure to keep your eyes on his, lifting yourself up and slowly lining his tip along your entrance. You hit your clit on accident, moaning at the feeling. Eddie’s head falls back and his jaw tenses, his nostrils flaring slightly. You’re killing him. You like it.

After teasing him a few more times, you finally position yourself on top of him and slowly sink yourself down, wrapping yourself around him. You make sure to savour the feeling—you’ve never felt anything like it. He’s spreading you open. He’s filling you up. He’s so deep.

He feels so fucking good.

You feel so fucking good.

You let out a gasp, gripping his shoulder as you move down until he’s completely inside you. You let yourself stay where you are for a moment, your eyes still on Eddie’s. His face already looks fucked out. He looks like he’s in pure bliss. You moan as you lift yourself up before sinking back down onto him. His hands guide your hips over him and you both gasp at the contact, starting to form a rhythm.

“So—fuck—” You gasp as your head falls to his shoulder, his hips bucking up into yours to feel you deeper, “So fucking big.”

He grins into your shoulder, rolling his hips forward and moaning at the feeling of you stretching around him, “So fucking wet.”

You set a slow pace, wanting to feel like this forever. Neither of you want to hurry this up yet, you want to feel every inch of each other for as long as possible. His fingers dig into your sides, your fingers tangling in his hair as you start to pick up the pace.

“Yeah baby,” His voice is breathless, staggered, encouraging you, “So fucking good for me. That’s it.”

His hand comes up to your face, where he cups your cheeks and pulls you towards him quickly. The kiss is harsh, taking whatever the two of you are willing to give each other. Right now—that’s just about everything.

“E,” You sigh, tipping your head back down onto his shoulder as you continue to ride him. He holds his arms around you, moving his hips up into yours and holding you close. The position you’re in is strangely intimate but neither of you are against it. You’re both at peace.

“Kiss me,” He begs.

You do.

You both grind your hips at the perfect rhythm, your pants and moans filling the room.

He’s close. You can tell by the way his stomach is tensing. By the way his breathing is hitching. By the way his eyes are closing. By the way his eyebrows are furrowed. By the way his mouth is hanging open.

He’s close, and so are you.

“Cum inside me, E.” you whisper.

“Fucking Christ,” He groans and bites down on your shoulder, “You gonna cum too? Gonna make a mess of my cock?”

You whine out, nodding your head rapidly as you feel him speeding up his thrusts. His mouth is right back on yours, his hands travelling down your body and resting on your hips tightly as he fucks up into you with no remorse.

The two of you cum together, making an even bigger mess of each other than you’d thought you would.

You collapse against Eddie’s chest, trying to catch your breath when he flips your bodies over so he’s on top of you. He’s still inside you, and the sudden movement makes your aching cunt throb.

“My turn.” He smirks, leaning back down to reconnect your lips.

You whimper against his lips, and he smirks, speeding up his movements and beginning to thrust into you again. You don’t know how he’s able to go for another round so soon but you’re not complaining. You wouldn’t dream of it.

“You gonna take all of me, Y/N?” He asks as he thrusts into you, hands resting on either side of you. All you can do at this point is nod, your eyes heavy as you feel yourself getting dizzy with pleasure.

“Look at me.” His voice is stern, it makes you whine. You look up at him as well as you can, feeling your stomach curl.

You reach your hands to your sides, intertwining your fingers with his as he continues to thrust into you hard and fast, only slowing down when he nears his climax and you near yours.

“You gonna cum, sweetheart? Gonna cum with me? Yeah?” Eddie’s fucked out voice is all you need to be pushed over the edge for a third time, and your eyes roll back at the feeling of him letting go with you. Filling you up even more.

He plants a sweet kiss to your lips when you’re both done, letting you rest for a few minutes before he helps you up from the bed.

You both head into the bathroom to have a quick shower before you sleep. It’s safe to say that you’ve both seen a side to each other that you never expected to see. A side that you actually like.

With a few more exchanged kisses and a few cheeky touches, you’re both out of the shower and drying yourselves off. Eddie offers you your own towel but you settle for his. It’s not like he wasn’t cumming inside you a few minutes ago.

As you’re both about to walk back into his bedroom, you hear the sound of the trailer door opening.

“Eddie?!” Wayne’s voice shoots through the trailer, “Eddie, where are you boy?”

Your eyes widen and you look at Eddie, who has the same expression on his face.

Shit.

He quickly grabs you and pulls you back into the shower, turning the water back on and closing the door.

“I’m—I’m in the uh—in the shower, Wayne!”

You gasp at the feeling of the cold water on you—it normally takes a few seconds to heat up—so Eddie quite literally takes matters into his own hands and covers your mouth.

You narrow your eyes at him and he mouths a quick “Sorry” to you, keeping his hand over your mouth.

“Oh, right. Okay,” You hear Wayne’s voice again, “Came to let you know your lights are still on but, I guess you already know that,” His footsteps grow more distant, “Turn ‘em off, boy. Some of us gotta sleep.”

“You got it,” Eddie calls out, “I’ll be out in a sec.”
“Yeah yeah, goodnight.”

The sound of the front door closing, followed by the sound of it being locked echo into the bathroom. Eddie moves his hand away from your mouth and is quick to lean down, reconnecting your lips in a quick kiss.

“That was close.” You murmur against his lips, chuckling.

He nods, stepping out of the shower and scratching the back of his head, “Yeah, too close.”

You both walk back into Eddie’s bedroom, as naked as ever as he grabs the clothes you were both wearing before. He quickly flicks the living room light off and hands you back his Hellfire shirt, and he pulls on the black sweatpants from earlier, not bothering to wear any boxers.

The tension in the room is thick. You both just fucked the life out of each other. Your legs are sore, your throat hurts from how loudly you were moaning, your heads a mess. Eddie isn’t feeling much better.

“Let’s never do this again.” You clear your throat, throwing his shirt over your head.

“Agreed, yeah,” Eddie is quick to nod, “Never.”

You both look at each other for about two seconds before grabbing each other's faces and kissing, rushing to take your clothes off again.

so..guess who’s back. i went on a trip w some friends n had the beeeesssttt time evaaa, which is why i was ia for so long. but not to worry, the bitch is back. i hope you enjoyed this shot. i hope you loved it. ik i loved writing it. normally i’d split this into 2 parts but bc it’s been so long i decided to treat y’all. lmk what you think.

i’ll get back to posting regular smut soon. this was mainly focused on the angst aspect. i’ve been so into slow burn angst lately—in case you couldn’t tell lmao. anyway, have a good day or night n enjoy my slutfest <3 see you soon.

- k

🏷️ @eddiethesexy @roselvseddie @capricornrisingsstuff @aree-you-sirius-rn @lightmelikeamatch @corrodcd @cinnnam0ngirl @frogers

[banji-effect]

Harriet Powers, Pictorial Quilt, 1895-1898

Her descriptions of the images in this piece:

First Row:

(Panel 1) Job praying for his enemies. Job crosses. Job’s coffin. (2) The dark day of May 19, 1780. The seven stars were seen 12 N. in the day. The cattle all went to bed, chickens to roost and the trumpet was blown. The sun went off to a small spot and then to darkness. (3) The serpent lifted up by Moses and women bringing their children to look upon it to be healed. (4) Adam and Eve in the garden. Eve tempted by the serpent. Adam’s rib by which Eve was made. The sun and the moon. God’s all-seeing eye and God’s merciful hand. (5) John baptizing Christ and the spirit of God descending and resting upon his shoulder like a dove.

Second Row:

(1) Jonah cast over board of the ship and swallowed by a whale. Turtles. (2) God created two of every kind, male and female. (3) The falling of the stars on Nov. 13, 1833. The people were frightened and thought that the end had come. God’s hand staid the stars. The varmints rushed out of their beds. (4) Two of every kind of animal continued… camels, elephants, “gheraffs,” lions, etc. (5) The angels of wrath and the seven vials. The blood of fornications. Seven-headed beast and 10 horns which arose off the water.

Third Row:

(1) Cold Thursday, 10 of February, 1895. A woman frozen while at prayer. A woman frozen at a gateway. A man with a sack of meal frozen. Icicles formed from the breath of a mule. All blue birds killed. A man frozen at his jug of liquor. (2) The red light night of 1846. A man tolling the bell to notify the people of the wonder. Women, children and fowls frightened by God’s merciful hand caused no harm to them. (3) Rich people who were taught nothing of God. Bob Johnson and Kate Bell of Virginia. They told their parents to stop the clock at one and tomorrow it would strike one, and it did. This was the signal that they had entered everlasting punishment. The independent hog which ran 500 miles from Georgia to Virginia, her name was Betts. (4) The creation of animals continues. (5) The crucifixion of Christ between the two thieves. The sun went into darkness. Mary and Martha weeping at his feet. The blood and water run from his right side.

[wheels-of-despair]

Fucking Fireworks Pairing: Eddie Munson x You Summary: Eddie doesn't like fireworks anymore. Contains: Angst, panic attack, me torturing this sweet boy just so I can comfort him like the wicked witch I am. Word Count: 1.5k-ish

Fucking fireworks.

You've always hated them. They're loud, they're obnoxious, they're a waste of money. If you buy fireworks, you're basically just setting your money on fire for a few seconds of sparks.

In the past, you'd tolerated them because Eddie loved them. They were loud, they were obnoxious, they were free entertainment because they were everywhere.

Last Fourth of July, you'd brought a carton of ice cream and two spoons up to the roof and occasionally fed each other until the show began. Yeah, yeah, you two are so in love it's disgusting, you're aware.

Last New Year's Eve, you'd huddled with him under a blanket and kissed when his watch beeped at midnight, then laid your head on his shoulder and watched the fireworks from a distance.

But that was before.

Eddie doesn't like fireworks anymore.

He won't talk about it, but you see him flinch when a light bulb flickers or a barely-running car turns the corner while riding their squeaky brakes. He buries his face in your neck and squeezes his eyes shut during thunderstorms. He froze when some idiot kids set off a few firecrackers nearby on Halloween.

New Year's Eve was going to be a challenge. Trying to shield him from the fireworks without him knowing what you were doing was going to be a bigger one. You're familiar with the snap of "I'm not a fucking baby!" But he is. He's yours.

The snow worked in your favor. Too dangerous to get on a roof covered in snow, you could slip and break something. Too cold to go anywhere. You'd suggest staying home where it's warm and trying to sync Metallica's Ride the Lightning album with the countdown, so that "For Whom the Bell Tolls" would begin when the clock strikes 12. A genius idea that your sweet metalhead wouldn't be able to refuse.

He went for it.

You'd gone to Family Video and brought home a pile of his favorite movies to watch that evening, along with a case of beer, a bag full of snacks, and a pizza. At midnight, it would be just the two of you and the greatest album ever recorded. Loud. Very loud.

You'd timed everything almost perfectly.

The two of you had finished off an entire pizza and nearly half the snacks by the time the last movie ended at 11:27. You were scheduled to press play on Ride the Lightning at 11:48, so you even had a few minutes to clean up.

It was a great plan… until it wasn't.

At 11:43, while you were washing the last dirty dish, the power went out with a pop.

"Eds?"

Silence. He was on the couch a minute ago.

You fumbled blindly for the flashlight in the junk drawer, letting out a shaky sigh when your hand finally closed around it. You clicked the button and felt a flood of relief when it illuminated the kitchen. Pointing the flashlight at the floor, you made you way over to Eddie.

He was frozen in place on the couch, hands clutching at his sweatpants in a white-knuckle grip.

"Eddie? Are you okay?" you ask softly, sitting on the coffee table in front of him, careful not to shine the light in his eyes. He doesn't respond.

You envied the people in movies, who always made this look so easy. There's nothing easy about it. You feel helpless, because all you want to do is take care of him, and you don't know how. There's no guide book called How to Recover from Nearly Dying in an Alternate Dimension. Maybe you'd talk to Nancy about writing one next year.

Okay, what caused this? The dark. How do we fix it? More light. You suddenly remember a camping lantern that should be in the hall closet. "I'll be right back, Eds," you say with an eerily convincing calmness, considering the panic you felt inside. You lay the flashlight on the coffee table in front of him and angle it toward the hall.

Miraculously, the lantern is not only where it belongs, but it has batteries in it. This wondrous little contraption, received as a Christmas present last year and immediately banished to a cluttered closet, filled the small room with light. You brought it back to the couch, sitting in front of Eddie once more. "Eds?"

He blinked. Blinking is good. You slowly extend your right hand, palm up, toward him. He stares at it, and after a moment, releases a hand from the death grip on his pants and places it in yours. You exhale for the first time in what felt like hours.

"It's just your standard, run-of-the-mill, Hawkins-Sucks power outage, babe. It's okay. You're okay," you say with a smile you hope looks comforting. He's breathing normally, but his eyes are still stuck in a blank stare. Your thumb rubs circles on the back of his hand.

A few minutes pass, and you move a little closer, sitting on the edge of the coffee table, his hand still in yours. You can see a little color coming back into his face, courtesy of the greatest Christmas present anyone has ever received. You can also feel the inside temperature beginning to drop from the lack of heat.

"Eddie? You with me?" You squeeze his hand, and his eyes finally meet yours. There he is. Your face breaks into a grateful smile.

"It's getting cold. What do you say we move this party to the bedroom?" you ask, wiggling your eyebrows for effect. He gives you half a smile, and you feel warmth surge through your whole body. He's back. He's okay.

You hand him the flashlight and slowly rise with the lantern, still not letting go of his hand, and lead him toward the bedroom. You stop at the junk drawer again, shoving extra batteries into your pocket, just in case.

You're both in sweats already, so all you need to do is get him into bed and keep him occupied until the power comes back on. You reach for Eddie's flashlight before he crawls into bed. You switch it off, placing it on the bedside table near the still-lit lantern and spare batteries, and climb in to face him. The lantern fills the room with a comforting glow, the pile of blankets you're under is quickly warming up, you can handle this. You give him a reassuring smile and reach over to tuck a piece of hair behind his ear.

And then the fucking fireworks start.

His body tenses. His eyes widen. You are going to calm him down, and then you're going to go murder everyone who's doing this to him.

"Eddie. EDDIE. It's just fireworks. It's a new year. It's just people celebrating." He doesn't blink. He doesn't move.

What caused this? The noise. How do we fix it? Drown it out with more noise. Why can't we do that? Because the Hawkins power grid is a piece of shit. How else can we fix it? Think, idiot, think… if we can't drown it out with noise, maybe we can drown it out with silence.

"C'mere, baby." You roll from your side to your back and extend an arm, drawing him to you. You're a little surprised, but thankful, when he lets you guide his head to your chest. Your right arm wraps around his back, your left palm presses firmly to his ear to help drown out the sound. You hold him tight, because you don't know what else to do.

He seems to relax after a few minutes, and you let out a breath you didn't realize you were holding. Your right hand begins moving up and down his back, and you press a kiss to the top of his head before resting your cheek against his fluffy locks. You'll stay in this position all night if you have to.

After what feels like an eternity, the crackles and hisses and pops begin to die down. You begin counting when you think you've heard the last of it, not daring to move until you get to 100. You have to restart the count four times before you're finally able to get there, hoping that whoever was supplying this endless exploding nightmare would blow a hand or a dick off. Finally, it's over.

You move your hand off his ear. Is he asleep? His breathing is steady and he hasn't moved in a while. A few seconds pass before his hand finds yours… and moves it back to his ear. You bite back a chuckle and squeeze him, kissing the top of his head again. He groans sleepily and nuzzles into your chest. He's still here. He's okay.

No thanks to those fucking fireworks.

[miitgaanar]

Whumptober prompt! Requested by @editoress!

No. 1: RACE AGAINST THE CLOCK

Search Party | Panic Attack | “If only we could hold on.” (Icysami x Renegaderr, Strangers.) for the brothers Adelier

**********

Smoke billowed high in the starless night sky, the roar of the flames muffled only by the screaming rats that infested the Court.  They scattered, pleading for mercy as he pushed through the throng, only to be run through by his gore soaked blade in reply.

Words had long since failed him, his voice hoarse from the thick, pungent smoke and his grief-stricken cries.  He had tried calling out to her, silencing the rabble with a swift swing of his sword when they drowned him out—but only the hungry crackle of a raging fire and endless bawling answered.

Mikaila.  Her name rang out in Lemuel’s mind like a bell repeatedly struck, loud and constant and inescapable.  She was gone.  Gone.  No—stolen.  Vanished into the night like footprints in a snowdrift, locked away for the sins of his hubris.

A man fell to his knees before Lemuel, his dark hair streaked through with gray and his eyes alight with terror.  He opened his mouth as if to speak—or maybe scream or beg or cry—but only blood surged forth as Kossaul buried itself deep within his chest.

Mikaila.  The bell tolled once more as the man slumped to the ground, his death rattle lost to the distant sound of a building’s collapse.  Mikaila.

“What more must you take from me?”  Duane hissed, his voice undercutting the anguished mantra.  “Was my life not payment enough?”

“I’ll find her,” Lemuel said, his voice low and rough.  He scanned the groups of stragglers that continued to fight the flames, their faces blurred by the unending flow of tears.  One of them moved to strike him, a plank of still burning wood in hand—but he hardly made it three steps before Lemuel slashed at his throat.  Hot, viscous fluid splattered on the ground, mixing with half-melted snow and staining it a deep crimson.  

Lemuel kicked the man to the side, his body hitting the dirt with a muted thud, and continued his rampage through the streets.

“She wasn’t supposed to be there,” Duane said, the words drowning out the wail of a child from a pile of smoldering rubble.  “She should have been safe at home with Leysa and Simon, tucked away from the cold and the snow as guests began to trickle through the door.”

“I’ll find her,” Lemuel said again, insistent.  Desperate.  The dark, smoke filled sky glowed a dull orange, casting the slums in a hazy light.  Shadows grew longer and darker and loomed with menacing intent, as if they too sought his niece.  “I’ll find her.”

“But you had to see her,” Duane continued, the words sharp and accusing.  “You had to see her just one last time, damning her along with me.”

“Shut up,” Lemuel snapped, his voice cracking as his eyes burned with fresh tears.  The flesh of his cheeks stung as a cold gust of wind blew through the alleyways, drying the tears as they fell.

“The spare finally given his chance at worth,” Duane spat, “only to squander it like an untried youth in a whorehouse.”

“Mikaila!” Lemuel called out, wiping at his face with his sleeve.  The bright green fabric came away smeared with scarlet streaks.

“All you had to do was die,” his brother taunted.  Lemuel pushed onward, blind to the slaughter happening around him.  In the flames of a burning home, Lemuel swore he saw the billowing robes of a Ssaelit priest.  

“And yet, even in that simple task,” Duane sneered, unrelenting in his scorn as Lemuel tore through the residents of the Court, “you were still found to be lacking.”

[sixminutestoriesblog]

new years traditions around the world

Humans like their superstitions. The world is so random and abstract and there is so much that we can't, no matter how hard we try, control. And yet, its human nature not to be content to let 'Fate' decide our - well - fate. Some of our oldest stories are about heroes doing exactly that, trying to avoid what life has set down for them. Often they don't succeed but it doesn't stop the next hero's story from trying.

And - every now and then, some hero, somewhere, does win.

What better time to try to set the record straight, determine the future and ward away disasters than as the clock turns over and gives us an entirely new year? So, today, let's talk about New Year's Eve superstitions and see just how many we're willing to do, not because we believe them but because, deep down, we figure why not?

Do you want to travel in the upcoming year? In Columbia, they walk, or run, around the block carrying empty suitcases to call it into the new year.

Hoping for a baby in the new year? In Greece, hang a bundle of onions over your front door. Not only will this up your chances of fertility, but onions encourage good luck too.

Want to make sure there are no evil spirits in your house? In Ireland they use their leftover Christmas bread to bang on the house walls to drive any lingering mischief out. In Puerto Rico, they dump a bucket of water out the window to wash evil spirits away. In Japan, Buddhist temples ring their bells 108 times before midnight, each toll driving away a specific vice or sin so that the new year can start clean. Fireworks can drive off evil spirits too. According to the historic Chinese, the loud sounds scare them off.

Want some predictions for the new year? In the Czech Republic, they cut apples in half. If the apple's core looks like a star than next year everyone will meet again, happy and healthy. If it's a cross, someone will soon be very ill. In Columbia, they place three potatoes under the bed, one peeled, on half peeled and the other left alone. At midnight, grab one. If its unpeeled, you will have financial woes. Still in its skin? A year of prosperity. And half and half is - well, half and half. In Ireland, hiding mistletoe under your pillow will let you dream of your future spouse.

Had a bad year you can't wait to see go? Open your doors and windows on new year's eve to let the old year out and the new year in (I suspect this is easier for people living in warmer climes). In Ecuador, they build paper effigies of the bad, usually politicians, and set it on fire! Bonus good luck if you can jump over that fire twelve times. In Japan, they clean their house to wash away the old year and have it fresh and ready for a brand new year.

Looking for a long, healthy life? In Japan, they eat soba, noodles that are as long as the life the consumers want to have.

Aiming for prosperity? In Turkey, they smash pomegranates on their doorstep. The more pieces and the bigger the mess, the better. In the Southern US, you need to get yourself a meal of Hoppin John. Round shapes resemble coins so in the Philippines you want to eat twelve round fruits at midnight. Don't count on the fruit alone though, in the Philippines its also good luck to wear polka dots the last day of the year.

Have a wish you want to come true? In Singapore, they float wishing spheres, giant floating balls people write their wishes on, in the Singapore River. In Russia they write the wish on a piece of paper, burn it and then drink the ashes down in a glass of champagne. In Brazil, jump over seven ocean waves - you get a wish for each one.

Do you just want general good luck? There's a lot of traditions for that. Eat fish - they only swim forward and so will carry you forward into the new year. In Denmark, get your dishes and go break them on your friends' and family's doorstep. The more broken pieces, the more the luck. In Spain, they eat twelve grapes as the clock strikes midnight for good luck but make sure you pay attention to what you're doing and finish by the end of the chimes or you get the opposite in the upcoming year. In Denmark, stand on a chair and 'leap' into the new year as the clock strikes midnight for good luck. Farmers should wish all their livestock a good new year first thing in the morning. Several countries hide a coin or an almond in the new years eve's dessert and whoever finds it will have good luck in the new year. In New York, they sell candy peppermint pigs that come with their own hammers. Smash the pig, eat the candy and get luck in the new year - and help burn off some holiday stress. In Armenia, the first batch of bread baked on the new year bakes in the luck for the rest of the year's cooking. In Turkey, as the clock strikes midnight, sprinkle salt on your doorstep for good luck. In Japan, waking up early to watch the first sunrise of the new year is supposed to bring good luck. In Romania, they toss a coin into a river on new year's eve.

And finally - don't forget to dress for the occasion! In Brazil, they wear white on new year's eve to bring in a year full of peace. You can still be racy though. Apparently the color of your underwear makes a difference.

White – peace and harmony

Silver – innovation

Blue – serenity and friendship

Green – good health and hope

Red – passion

Yellow/gold – money and happiness

Pink – romance and love

Purple – spiritual connection

Orange – creativity

Black – independence

So there you have it.

Happy New Year!

[forasecondtherewedwon]

Three!!

Thank you, Kaye!!!

Shuffle #3: “Bitter Taste” - Billy Idol

There's nothing I can do to change it now / But if I cut myself open, baby / You can read all my scars

And Spit at the Stars (And Scream in the Dark)

Rating: T Word Count: 962 music shuffle fic game

Summary: Belle dies on the table.

He puts his hands inside people for a living, for as little of a living as it is. When Jack strides down the street, the hard-packed dirt reminds him of the roof of a man’s mouth—the mouth of the very man he’s passing. He’s retrieved small objects (marbles, stones) from the noses of half the children who rush to tug off hanged men’s boots. He’s delivered them from their mothers, hand inside the birth canal as he eased slippery shoulders free. He knows what their fathers’ shattered elbows looked like before he doctored their wonky mending. He could identify a dozen men’s patellas by touch. Blindfolded.

Blood; blood always feels the same, but the veins that spill it, the flesh from which it seeps, are unique under his fingers. So he’ll remember this, and run back through it: Did he open cleanly? Did he disturb her vital workings when he reached all the way into her, to the back of her, positioning the noose and pulling the thread taut? Did he tie it too snugly? Before all of it, did he hold the mask to her face too long, drowning her in ether?

When he feels—

When he feels Belle’s heart stop—

It doesn’t even mean blood to him. Jack’s palm is on her non-rising chest, everything he never felt from the inside flashing through his mind behind his unfocused eyes. Bone, lungs, the chambers of her heart. He would occupy those chambers, live inside her, join her there. His red hands scrabble up her neck. Nothing in her throat jumps against his fingers.

Hetty takes him by the shoulders, and he twists, twists like the babies who wriggled their way into this horrible, hurting world with the help of Jack’s hands. But Hetty is determined and strong; she will brace herself beneath the arm of an amputee to raise him onto his remaining leg. She clutches Jack’s shoulders, and he jerks, eyes fixed on Belle’s face, no longer flushed with agony. Or life.

“She wasn’t in pain, Jack,” Hetty is saying. “You did that for her. She wasn’t in pain.”

Her voice is thick like the tears pushing their way out of his eyes to splash down his cheeks. He can hear Belle’s mother crying now, a lonely wail that calls Jack back to storms at sea, the wind and the slanting rain.

When he shakes out of Hetty’s hold, it’s because she lets him go, dropping her hands. He looks at her wildly, finally. A tremor touches each of her features in turn—her brow, her nostrils, her chin—but she stares back at him, hiding nothing. How do they take care of this? How can they possibly be the people in charge? Who will nurse them, hold a mask over their nose and mouth to shelter themfrom their pain? Of all the times in his life Jack’s needed someone to step in and save him—

Sneed is drawing a sheet over Belle’s body. Jack takes snatching hold of his arm, but Sneed turns his head and meets Jack’s eye with such sympathy. Chest heaving, Jack senses that he doesn’t so much look at Sneed as watch the man watch him; he feels like a picture on a wall. Rather than wrest Sneed away from her, Jack only squeezes and releases his grip.

“Enough!” Gaines rings out, tolling Jack’s hour like the bell in a clock tower.

His guillotine hand comes down on the back of Jack’s neck. Jack shrugs him off violently, and before Gaines can make another grab for him, Sneed steps between them. The sheet ripples down over Belle.

“He isn’t going anywhere,” Sneed grits out with a hard edge.

At first, Jack thinks Sneed is insisting on preventing his arrest altogether, but then Sneed adds, “Look at him,” and Jack understands Sneed isn’t taking a legal stand, just telling the predator in Gaines that his quarry is too weak to run.

“It will be you under arrest if you’re wrong,” Gaines assures Sneed, striking Sneed’s shirtfront with the barrel of his pistol.

At the casual hostility of this contact, Jack’s hand darts out, fingers flexed like a claw; he’s prepared to choke the life out of Gaines with his tie. Sneed’s reflexes are just as quick—something for which Jack rarely gives him credit—and he knocks Jack’s hand aside before he can assault the Captain. Hetty, too, is stirred to action, taking both doctors by the elbow and giving a backwards yank, away from the danger of Gaines’s gun and their own impulsive stupidity. For a moment, they are, the three of them, connected, and loss is the current running through them.

“Gentlemen, some self-control. For her parents.” This can only, and does, come from Hetty.

The next thing Jack knows, he’s taking hold of the brass railing and hauling himself up into the wooden stands. He mounts the stairs, fighting shock, catching the toe of his boots on the steps until his climb becomes a stagger, a flail, until his palms press the theatre’s back wall and he turns and slumps down it. His head lolls as he takes in the view. Why do the spectators come? Why the children to the gallows and the grown men to the surgery? Is the attraction that the person on the table has a fighting chance, or is there always a cruel presumption that life can’t win? Once the surgeon’s fingers have plumbed your insides, you’re doomed? The lesson from up here is: never let life crack you open.

Jack could strangle the fool who keeps asking if Belle’s breathing. He could kill them with his bare hands. He looks down at the shape in the sheet, the body he knew from the inside.

Fully.

[silverjetsystm]

where do you go when you close your eyes?

linoleum

"why does death's bell still toll for you, sweet immortal child? you aren't alone in your heart, you know. somewhere on the other side, the other you is fighting just as hard as you are -- put down your gun. you're safe with your friends. travel in numbers and come back before the clock strikes one. make sure to polish your shoes, they've gotten scuffed from all that climbing."

ghost

"true love is dead, and you're buried with them. you look in the mirror the day after the funeral to see your own eyes missing, face nothing but a blurred canvas. why aren't you surprised? every inch of you feels badly pieced together, mistakenly glued in some sort of rush. your brain and body never seem to agree. do either of them belong to you anymore?"

gunmetal

"the lavish party before your eyes is yours to claim, dear inmate. you've imprisoned yourself in a sea of society's lies for far too long, and it's time you get everyone screaming. do you feel the weight of the crown on your head? is it digging into your skull? what of the knives in your chest; the accusations against your good name? shrug them off like you would a fur coat. show the world the light, sweet royal."

Tagged by @themckaytriarchy

Tagging: @brooklynislandgirl @iobartach @kylo-wrecked @lalamoon @magnetic-regent-magneto @valkxrie

[commandervamiris]

Day 2: Time

CW: blood mention, implied alcohol, character death. Spoilers for the first two Hermitcraft Blood on the Clocktower games! 595 words.

ZombieCleo begins the second game.

It's open mic night at the Mud Shop. The smell of freshly, hand made mud wafts through the soft dead air. The soft din of conversation and laughter dance with the silence around them. The soft lights offer a safe haven in the thick, overpowering darkness. 

From outside, ZombieCleo finds themself grimacing. 

But they shamble forward, nonetheless.

Through the shopping district. Past the people. Into the light. 

Again.

To begin with, they're ignored. A warm, confident smile that disarms the local hermits and protects ZombieCleo's own dead heart. The smiles in return are polite, but friendly. Warm. Welcome. 

But it is in their nature to be kind. To share their stories, and for ZombieCleo, the stories exist in a world that they can create by weaving their words to create fascinating worlds. A nail biting escape from a falling moon, or a twisting betrayal of a boogyman, they thought a trusted friend. 

But as time passes, their enthralling stories get more and more ears. The townsfolk hang on every word they say. Every world, and every twist and narrative construction that only a true storyteller can weave… 

Yet, the bells strike midnight. 

And ZombieCleo knows it is happening again. 

The warm fireplace casts no light anymore; it is only the shadows dancing in the night hours. ZombieCleo feels the cold. They feel the cold sink in the pit of their stomach. 

They drop their glass. 

It shatters.

Again. 

Everyone laughs. "They're merry!" "A fun time with friends isn't it?" "What fun we're having!" 

And ZombieCleo's cold, dead heart beats. But for how long?

They see Cubfan. They want to shout and scream, "is it you?" But he smiles with merriment. 

No. Not this time. 

Rendog catches their eyes; how long has he been serving drinks? Why are his teeth bared like that? Were his eyes always so red? Why is he-

ZombieCleo realises. 

It's him! The poisoner!

Yet their voice is a hoarse whisper. 

Their throat burns. 

It's too late. 

They scramble to leave, maybe this time they will live. Maybe- 

Before they can open the door, it's Impulse who asks, "are you okay?"

ZombieCleo shoves him. No. Not this time. The demon won't get them. Not- 

They're outside the Mud Shop by the time they realise that Impulse isn't the demon anymore. But by then, the real shadow is on their heels; the sounds of blessed silence are gone as ZomebieCleo knows that the sounds of laughter on the wind aren't just in their head.

They run and run but the shadow- the demon, chases them. Getting closer and closer.

Through the shopping district, ZombieCleo runs; the thought of the morning light is a distant hope. 

The first unlocked door they find, they push forward. Harried attempts to block the door fail as the oppressive presence of the demon is so, so close. 

But the place they find themself is just stairs that wind up around a thick bit of rope and before they can think- the demon is charging the door so they run! They run up the stairs. Creaking wood. Laughter. Their own breath. Their heavy footfalls as their legs feel like lead with every step. 

And they reach the top. 

Machinery. A bell. A circular glass window. A clock. 

And ZombieCleo realises it's happened again. They wonder, how many times? Will they find the demon this time? Is it all for naught? 

ZombieCleo turns to face the demon. 

Keralis cackles as he pushes them through the glass. 

And once again, the bell tolls softly as their blood runs down the clocktower.

View the masterlist here!

[serenitypoetry]

Come Home

come home.

headache pounds against inner skull.

does the blood in the veins of a corpse run stagnant?

rhythm falters, breaks, unfolds.

they'll read your rites and arrest your after.

you have not committed crime.

your heartbeat still, it never ever

pounds.

it sits, and never moves again.

no thump, no thump, no thump.

the bell, it rings out to deaf ears.

it shouts your name, to no response.

come home.

I know your hurt to some extent.

you don't deserve this lack of after.

I fear I know you better after hearing of your death.

your children, wife, what are they left with?

I wish you were a coward. I wish you'd missed your strike.

three chimes of clock that counts your seconds.

it tolls for you, yet you can't hear it

pound.

it imitates heartbeat,

the one you're missing,

it thumps, it thumps, it thumps.

the bell, it tells us what's gone missing.

it shouts your name, and brings you

home.

[e-the-village-cryptid]

Goncharov the Musical (1985)

with all this goncharov posting I still haven’t seen anyone mention the musical adaptation! granted, if goncharov is a lost movie, then the musical is fricken atlantis, but the little-known adaptation did in fact exist, if very briefly. as far as I’ve been able to find out, there were only two showings and somewhere between 5 and 10 previews before it was shut down for good. 

just as goncharov itself is full of bitter ironies, so too is the story behind the (partial) recovery of this musical. Cranston Park Theatre, where the musical was staged, suffered flooding in September of this year, forcing the theater to close for repairs. in clearing out their flooded basement, a few discs from the goncharov production were discovered, but not before the long submersion in water highly damaged them. yeah, the same flood that led to the discs’ rediscovery also ruined large portions of them. the irony is flawless, but I’m still mad about that lost history that may never be recovered. 

however, we do have a mostly intact rendition of the first two numbers, which are, as in most musicals, an ensemble opener and an “I want” song. (many thanks to the Cranston Park Theatre employee who got permission to post the recovered clips to youtube!) the song titles are lost to time as far as I can tell, but we have some footage and that’s what’s most important. let’s dive in!

the ensemble opener: it’s very militaristic, which is an interesting choice. the stately march-style opener evokes the mechanical, grim themes present throughout much of the film— or, at least it would, if the costumes weren’t so ridiculous. despite the attempted seriousness of the number, the set and costumes come off as quite campy— perhaps this was an intentional mockery of the militaristic march, to emphasize the existing irony of comparing mafia and gangsters to soldiers? my favorite part about this number is that the strong, steady beat is exactly 60 bpm— one beat per second, like the ticking of a clock. say what you will about the directors of this musical, but they knew their motifs for sure!

the “I want” song: usually the second song of a musical would be given to the lead to sing their “I want” ballad— think “Waiting on a Miracle” in Encanto where Mirabel just wants to be special like the rest of the family, or “Carrie” in Carrie (a musical from around the same time period that suffered a similar fate of early cancellation, but that’s a parallel for a different post), where Carrie longs for her classmates to stop bullying her and see her for who she truly is. now, in Goncharov, this song is given not to Goncharov, but to Katya. this is fascinating! the narrative is essentially establishing Katya as the central character, of equal or greater importance than Goncharov himself. I wish so badly I could make out the lyrics, but the recording is too damaged for me at least. the tone of the ballad is emotional, though, and Katya can be seen gesturing to Goncharov, who is staged out of reach and out of earshot. At another point, she also gestures close to the wings, where there appears to be a figure? the video quality is very grainy but at least in my mind this has to be Sofia. (oh how I wish the lyrics were audible here!)  and of course, the centerpiece of the number (and the whole musical, really) is the giant clock tower in the square, which the choreography and Katya’s movements places as an important element of the song. the song ends with the tolling of the clock bells, setting the characters into a hurry about their business as if the spell is broken. ok, a little heavy-handed at this point. oh well, I honestly enjoy it, this song strikes the balance between sincere and campy— the choreography could be considered over-the-top and even a bit ridiculous in other circumstances but weirdly it worked?? one of my favorites and definitely the one I wish the most that we had a better recording of.

I’ll keep the analysis to just these two songs for now, but if anyone on some off-chance has found any better recordings of this musical please share them! not much is known about this musical’s history since it fell apart so quickly, likely due to budget and conflict between several of the lead actors and the director, so it’s entirely possible they performed at some other smaller theatre or at least rehearsed there. let’s piece this musical back together!

[empty-cryptid]

Hello! I'm Energycat on AO3. (Currently on hiatus)

At the moment I'm mostly writing Encanto fanfiction and planning some One Piece stuff.

What I'm currently working on*:

Tiny Tio, Big world

When Bruno wakes up to discover he's even smaller than usual, he has to figure out how to navigate the world from a rat's point of view. And he doesn't even get the advantages of being a rat! This gives a whole other meaning to the nickname Tiny Tío.

Debut and Renew Series

(Part 1) Tio: Bruno meets his sobrinos for the first time. (Part 2) Still Tio: Bruno meets his sobrinos a second time.

12 Hours Til Sunrise

What if when Bruno, Antonio, and Mirabel climb out of the wall from behind the painting, they don't end up in the right place? Listen for the tolling bell, for after the clock strikes 12, the sun will rise. (Encantober 2023)

a series of little things

Some little stories about the life of the Madrigals. (Slice of life <1000 words) I take requests for these!

*I am not including collabs because I don't want to put any pressure on my co-writers.

My encanto oc:

Margarita Valentine

Short stories involving Señora Valentine while she's the Encanto's librarian (and maybe a little of her mysterious past if she's willing to share her adventures) *Chapters in this one will be posted out of order to keep the timeline in order*

Some completed stories:

Defeating expectation and other extraordinary acts

Bruno knows what he can do. Probably. Everyone else thinks they know what he can do. Mirabel probably has the most accurate opinion of the bunch. Everyone will be surprised. (Bruno is coaxed by the kids to show off some parkour and some of the residents of Encanto aren't happy to have him back among them after ten years.)

Healing Memories

A collection of completed one-shots with the themes of healing and memories.

Made with Love

Bruno's relationship with food after leaving the walls and after he's recovered a year later. We support a healthy pancita around here.

Madremonte's Garden and the Wakos' Cave

The triplets decide to rekindle a tradition they had before Bruno hid in the walls. Taking a hike to a special place for some sibling bonding sounds like a wonderful idea now that Bruno has returned, Casita is reborn, and the family is healing nicely. (This is my EBB story)

Fables by Firelight

Camilo decides to get all the grandkids (plus Bruno and Mariano) to gather around a fire to tell spooky stories in the dark.

And many more...

[josy57]

Into the Dark and Away 

When you've learnt by heart the patterns on the carpet The grain of the floorboards pressed flush against your cheek When you've grown sick of counting the dust motes Staring dazedly as they dance in the draft And collect under the dresser As so many discarded dreams When you’ve bored yourself numb and blind Stand up or perhaps crawl downstairs Sneak through the window, into the unlit dawn Light as a sigh, since no one is here to stop you Heavy as a sob, for no one is here to stop you. Through the garden, barefoot across the flower beds Bending the pliant necks of your mother's tulips Her ancient tabby cat, keeping watch from the parapet Wailing and whining, rasping its bitter refrain Won’t you wait, won’t you listen, Won’t you please try and understand You headstrong girl, You silly girl, You golden child But it’s too late for pleading, you’ve been halfway gone a long time So go for good, Go over the fence and into the fields Over the fence and away

Go and sleep under the willow tree Where its long fingers will trace its sorrow upon you There you might find rest and forget Forget the lonely sound of the leaking faucet Forget the unlived life And even your own name

When the alarm clock rings with echoes of school bells Tolling mercilessly, striking the hour When the chirping of birds turns to nasty singsong Twittering their teetering chant When you haven’t closed your eyes in weeks And yet morning still comes And yet duty calls, clamoring for another ounce of courage Another shred of surrender, another pound of your bloodless flesh Open the backdoor, let the radio fry itself hoarse Let the phone hang and cry its phony tune Let the gate slam behind you, swaying on screeching hinges The old house, full of ghosts, nagging and begging Look back, turn back, come back You stupid girl, You lovely girl, You small, small thing But there is nothing anymore you wouldn't dare Nothing now they can forbid You’ve been halfway gone a long time So go for good Go, into the dark and towards the forest Into the dark and away

Go and sleep under the walnut tree Where breath is rare but the slumber is deep There you might find rest and forget Forget the taste of bile of every family meal Forget the endless list of tasks And even the grudges you keep

When you are all out of time, of hope, of composure When you've crossed all the days, all the Ts Dotted the Is and scratched them out in every Christmas picture Spent the last of your restraint And turned all the dials on the stove Walk to the end of the driveway, to the end of the road The tar still sticky with the day’s heat The faces of the whole neighborhood, Peering through curtains and keyholes And that voice, sickly sweet, tugging at your sleeve Pinching your upper arm Telling you not to make a scene in public The crunching gravel, coaxing and cajoling Stay here, within reach Stay near, within sight Sit, stand, beg, play dead Stay, stay, stay You stubborn girl, You dear girl You odd duckling For once, let it fall onto deaf ears Go, through the thistle, through the thorns Following the cool rustle of rushing water You’ve been halfway gone a long time So go for good Go, beyond the bend and along the river Beyond the bend and away

Go and sleep under the manchineel tree Where every touch is seared and etched into your skin There too you must sit still as the world eats at you Each brush like the lash of a whip But, at least, here you can ponder in peace As patient as a boiling frog Your head busy and buzzing With thoughts sharper than a hornet's sting You may think and think and forget Forget the whistled scream of the hissing kettle Forget the many reasons for your rage And even the way home.

[iheartleopards]

Cinderella au sari x bumblebee pt3

When the dance was over bumblebee took sari to the beautiful palace garden. Sari: wow it's beautiful the night is beautiful.

Bumblebee:you know I was looking for some like you. Sari begin to blush sari:oh my

bumblebee: what your name where do you live I really like to see you again so we can talk more.

sari:your highness I would love it.

They went to the secret garden and they danced again. Sari:this has been a lovely night. Bumblebee:yes it has. As they sat together on a bench they talked.sari:so who made you host the ball. Bumblebee: Optimus prime made me do it he thinks I need to find the girl of my dreams but the girl of my dreams is you. Bumblebee took her hand and kissed it gently. Sari begin to Blush more. Sari:t-thank you. Bumblebee:my princess will you tell me your name

Sari:is...

sari was so happy but she forgot about her fairy godmother's warning then she's hears the clock strikes 12. Sari: what time is it

Bumblebee: midnight

Sari: midnight already

Sari was in shock she's have to leave before 12

Sari: I... I must go. she try to run but bumblebee grabs her arm

Bumblebee: what but you still haven't tell me who you are didn't you like dancing with me

Sari:no I love the dancing with you it's was beautiful but I must go I must

She's lets go of bumblebee and ran out of the palace.

Bumblebee: wait! wait! come back he said and runs after her sari runs fast as she could

Sari runs out of the ballroom she had to leave before the spell wears off.optimus prime ratchet prowl and bulkhead saw sari running out of the ballroom.bulkhead:hang on where she going. Prowl:I don't know. bumblebee went to the autobots. Bumblebee:guys have you seen a princess the one I just hang out. Ratchet saw sari running out of the entrance.ratchet:there she is she went that way.bumblebee:thanks. Optimus prime:but bumblebee.bumblebee:no time prime I have to after her wait!. He said running after sari. Bulkhead: maybe we should help him

Prowl: yeah we should ratchet:okay

Sari: (why I didn't I listen to my fairy godmother she told me to leave before midnight)

As sari runs down the palace steps she tripped and lost one of her glass shoes

Sari:oh no my shoe!

She's try to get her shoe back but she saw bumblebee running down the stairs after her.

bumblebee: wait! princess! wait! wait! come back I don't even know your name how will I find you!.

Sari look at prince bumblebee and at the glass shoe she squeaked in Fright and continued down the stairs she got into the carriage and roll away.

Bumblebee:wait! wait!

Bumblebee reach to the bottom stair and saw the carriage go prowl Bulkhead ratchet

Run down the stairs. To see what happened Bulkhead: bumblebee what happened?,

bumblebee: I don't know we were dancing and talking into the garden then she ran and I didn't even get her name.

then prowl pointed something on the palace steps prowl: what that bumblebee saw a glittering object on step he picked it up.

Bumblebee: it's her glass shoe it must have slipped of her feet as she runed away in morning we find the girl who's foot fits in the glass shoe who ever fits in this shoe she be my princess.

Ratchet: yes your majesty.