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starqueensthings · 1 year ago

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Summary: a transition chapter following the couple days post-surprise snack feast! I’ll be honest, there’s nothing super exciting in this one. This chapter was never meant to be solo– it rightfully belongs attached to the next one, but subjecting y’all to a 9k word chapter seemed to border on cruel so I split them where I could. Pls enjoy!

Rating/WC: all chapters are rated 16+ for subject matter unless otherwise stated. | 3312 words.

WARNINGS: brief/undetailed description of a medical procedure | mild self hatred (LOL)

A/N: just a reminder, the calendar system in Star Wars observes a 5-day week, starting with Primeday, then Taungsday, then Centaxday, then Zhellday, then Benduday. I personally consider Primeday’s to be like a Monday and Zhellday’s to a Friday!

PLEASE ENSURE YOU’VE READ THE FOREWORD LINKED BELOW FOR AN IN-DEPTH DESCRIPTION OF WHAT DEGREE OF CONTENT YOU CAN EXPECT THROUGHOUT THIS STORY BEFORE PROCEEDING.

FOREWORD | MASTER | PREV | NEXT | AO3

“I do wholeheartedly believe that attempting to implement our experimental tactic during tomorrow’s lesson bears the threat of utter failure, simply due to our inadvertent lack of preparation,” Challa chittered across the operating room table later that day, violet eyes darting just above June’s right shoulder where the holomonitor continuously displayed their patient’s vitals signs, pledging to keep them informed and aware of any imminent complications. “Sadly, neither of us have been granted spare time enough to attune our focus toward strategizing a plan of attack, and, though I maintain the highest degree of confidence in our new approach, it still remains our only viable path; we must handle our next steps with great caution. I personally think it wise we delay your formal introduction until our lesson on Zhellday morning, as the extra couple of days should allot us the opportunity to meet between shifts and—”

“Suction.”

“—reference our previously crafted syllabus. From what I can recall, I believe ‘The Ethics of Pain Control’ was to be our most imminent lecture, though—”

“Beginning foreign body extraction. Clamp the superior vessel and prepare to depress perforation.”

“—I know your suggestion orbits on removing the conventional lecture format atop the notion that granting them the permission to kinetically engage with each aspect of their medkit may promise an increased level of engagement—”

“What’s the HR…?”

“...Acutely depressed but sitting at 61.”

“And O2 sat…?

“...97– normal. I assert, if our tactic going forward is to begin the process of tool introduction, beginning with the MedScanner would seem most prudent, though beginning with the USI system might promise to snag their attention more profoundly.”

That duelling pair of aggrandized minds wove in and out of those transient conversations as if performing some semblance of a cerebral tango, and only years spent both physically and mentally adjacent could have seen those desultory thoughts move so fluidly through their cognizance; June able to seamlessly follow her bosses discursive suppositions while meticulously extricating several unidentifiable pieces of shrapnel from the abdomen of the soldier below her, and Challa’s twitter remained wholly unaffected by the divided attention of his colleague, resolute in capitalizing on every minute of this rare distraction-free time to remind her of the commitment she’d offered him days prior.

“Yeah, I think it’s obvious the traditional lecture format is not a cup they drink from,” June mumbled atop a restrained breath, corralling the reminder in her lungs to help steady her hands whilst carefully plucking that jagged strip of durasteel from its detrimental wedge in the trooper's upper colon. “I’m still not entirely convinced why I need to be the one to coax this plan into action, but I already promised we’d give it a try.”

“As previously explained, the nature of how you hold their attention drastically increases our chance of success,” Challa spoke, sightlessly collecting the soiled forceps from her gloved hand and replacing it with a set identical in every way, though the gauze pinched between those clean serrations had yet to be saturated by that poor soldiers blood. “Not only does it provide us the opportunity to test our theory of a more functional learning strategy, but I’m near-certain that assimilating the role of professor will allot you the venerability of which you deserve, pending you don't abjure the change immediately upon reaching the podium.”

“Yeah, well… chances of that are high, I'll be honest,” June groused. “I hate public speaking as it is, let alone when it's to a room full of people that ogle at me like I’m a cherry-topped cheesecake. Though it seems like Zhellday’s have been the chosen nap days, so that may work in my favour.”

***

The following day saw their traditional lecture proceed amid the regular, diminished fervor; still largely uneasy about their decided stratagem, and what it meant for her participation in that class, June was all-too willing to defer putting herself on display for yet another day, entirely content to adhere to her previous routine of plopping down behind the teacher’s desk and periodically glancing across the crowd for any rogue hands in the air— (of course there never were any).

But despite the promise of another immemorable, monotonous day, a potent anticipation entirely unrelated to that century of soldiers erupted neath her skin, as the first sight of those flapping purple tarps on Primeday morning had instantly flooded her veins with the memory of last referencing that near-neon landmark; offering farewells to that teal-painted captain as he’d escorted her back to that construction-laden speeder lot; hopeful vows to reconvene slipping from each set of lips while they both bashfully departed that serendipitous exchange with their skin aprickle and cheeks aflame.

How many ways could one find to say “thank you”? Well… one unaffected by an uncontrollable sense of glee and unencumbered by that smothering crush would have likely said: very few. But June had recited variations of gratitude and adoration to her reflection all morning in preparation for a possible reunion with that square-jawed soldier, and none seemed capable of conveying just how much she appreciated the inexplicable surprise he’d bestowed upon her the previous day.

“Cold?” Challa had asked as they neared the double-wide security gate, innocently mistaking the way her hands futilely tried to rid her skin of those relentless goosebumps as a motion of physical discomfort triggered by the open top of that air speeder, and not the ineffable sense of nervousness that it was.

“A little,” she fibbed, hurriedly turning away to conceal the way her bottom lip never failed to twitch when forced to wrap its way around a lie.

But they traversed those halls without any sign of external recognition or interruption, void of any fleeting signs of the teal her gaze thoughtlessly sought whilst darting around those otherwise colourless halls, and the lecture ensued without a hitch upon those hundred polyester-clad troopers assuming the same seats earmarked for their person several weeks earlier.

Eager to take advantage of the role that would be robbed of her in just a few short days, June followed noiselessly along to Challa’s presentation: “Risk differential of Electro-Magnetic Staplers vs. Cauterizing Pens for Superficial Cutaneous Wound Closure”— knowledge that any medical personnel would have deemed utterly critical for effective acute outpatient care, yet unsurprisingly, those soldiers did not espouse this opinion, near-instantly deeming that valuable information to be nothing more than superfluous and unworthy of their attention, and instead opting to initiate that infuriating game of sneaking looks and gestures in her direction whenever they presumed the risk low enough.

The wall chrono had hardly sent an hour of that lesson into the past when the pager on Challa’s hip erupted with a pair of shrill chirps, its proximity to the microphone in which he spoke ensuring the disturbance echoed loudly around all corners of that stuffy amphitheater and triggering a chorus of murmurs throughout the enshadowed rows. But despite the unceremonious nature of it’s interruption, Challa simply yanked that device from his belt and trod backward across the stage, tossing it sightlessly into June’s waiting hands so that he may continue his planned recital of medicine while his colleague addressed whatever concern had threatened to derail him. That little com device had hardly settled in her palms, fingers working to quickly orient the electronic so June may ascertain exactly who was attempting to contact him, when her own device gave a sharp squawk from the depths of her bag, and stomach knotting neath the implications of those rapid, tandem calls, she quickly extracted her own and hurried to excuse herself from the room.

“We’ve initiated a Code Orange,” Malya, the charge nurse, explained breathlessly upon answering June’s urgent return comm. “Mass injuries from four separate brigades are going through triage downstairs now, and six more are inbound. There’s at least two-dozen Class-A’s being sent upstairs already, and Maker-only-knows how many more will be following. Rondi is the on-call and he’s beyond swamped. Jacoba’s booked until shifts-end, Pherto is coming down from upstairs to take on what cases he can, but… it’s not going to be enough. We need one of you. Now.”

There wasn’t excess breath amidst that burgeoning urgency; not a fleeting moment she could spare to scan those halls for any glimmer of white and teal as she fled that classroom, mind bogged with nothing but the desperation to remain directionally oriented as she tried to find her way back to that parking lot, leaving Challa to finish the lecture on his own whilst she barrelled headfirst into the waiting chaos.

*****

Had anyone ever posed such a question, June would have proudly stated that any degree of poor punctuality was an action warranting the same castigation as actual crime. Simply put: late, to any degree, was unacceptable. Yet, a perfect storm of situational negligence had crafted the following Zhellday morning into a perfect petrie dish for such a conviction to be brought to test.

June sat bolt upright atop that squashy, oversized mattress, heart instantly erupting into pace that perfectly matched the horrifying reality, throat wholly scorched by the resounding gasp choking past her lips as the last of that lingering lassitude dissipated. There was simply too much radiant sunlight pouring in through the gap in those bedroom curtains; the traffic roaring, unseen, above the roof of that building hummed just too loudly and too constantly to reflect the near-placidity that morning typically granted; too many hardened sleep crystals had gathered in the corners of her eyes for only a handful of hours to have passed since she’d climbed into that soft sanctuary.

She’d overslept.

“Two hours?!” she shrieked upon meeting the goading gaze of the wall chrono across the room, whipping her blankets off with a vigor of which she’d never participated and sprinting from the bedroom.

Yesterday had acted a near-perfect redemption for the absolutely abysmal day before it. After hurtling from the combat base in nothing short of a frenzied need to immerse herself in the ensuing anarchy late Primeday morning, June had spent the subsequent fifteen hours in the confines of the dark and frigid operating room, cut off from the remainder of the galaxy as patient file after patient file flared atop the screen of the holocomputer perched next to the gurney, Lumi’s scomp having hardly left the port amid an effort to finally assist her with surgery before the alert of another imminent case had him plugging in to ascertain the details of their next.

Eager to atone for his absence that morning, and the perceived failure to lead his team in their incursion against that unprecedented bedlam, Challa had laid claim over as many surgeries as he could once the lecture had concluded, immediately demanding a gross extension of his schedule, and profusely apologizing to anyone who would stand still long enough to listen to that needless repentance, regardless of how most simply shook their heads at that characteristic benevolence and reassured him that his disparate role as professor was no less critical to the war effort than his leadership amongst the calamity.

Yet that Chief of Surgery remained as devoted to his staff as he was to upholding synergy in that bustling department; appearing atop the threshold of her office shortly before midnight that night with altruistic demands that June defer the start of her shift tomorrow, the abeyance of her schedule reflecting his gratitude for how seamlessly she’d leapt into action in his stead that morning, and the vast degree of work she’d been able to accomplish in the void of preparation. Chilled to the bone from the fifteen straight hours spent hunkered in those frigid OR’s, there wasn’t a cell in June’s body willing to reject his offering, using the subsequent second to ring her best friend Alda and request that she come over first thing the following morning so the duo may take advantage of the season’s first dose of hot sun and lay beside the rooftop pool with an iced caf in hand and mouths full of gossip.

But the reinvigoration imbued in her by those hours spent in the glory of that welcome radiance was instantly usurped by the duress of yet another arduous evening, the remainder of that rotation simply melting into an evening that promised no respite from the endless list of patients waiting to be patched and pruned neath her skilled hands; that increased behest, stacked atop the lingering effects of extended sun exposure, had June’s knees near-buckling in the doorway of her apartment hours later, the cool shower of which she thrust herself, sought only to appease what she could of that stringing, sunburnt skin before clambering wearily into bed.

And it seemed that unheralded exhaustion had ultimately eclipsed both her body-clock and her chrono alarm, every inch of that enflamed, sun-kissed exterior now screaming to protest the celerity at which she shed herself of those pajamas. Yet, that whimper of discomfort had hardly departed her lips before merging into something near a frustrated growl, as a near-empty closet housing only a lonesome set of fire-engine red scrubs had instantly endowed her with the realization that, once again, she’d forsaken taking her laundry downstairs to the building’s washing facility.

Grousing about her own infuriating negligence, she yanked that obnoxious pair from it’s perch and glared at the crumpled tag affixed to the neckline, that small Size S an unnecessary reminder that she hadn’t touched this particular get up since her earliest days in medical school, before a slowing metabolism had begun to thicken her thighs and swell the curves of her chest.

Ignoring the way the constriction of that polyester only intensified the mutiny of her scorched skin, she yanked it into place and hurried toward the refresher. “Maker,” June grumbled aloud for the near-hundredth time, checking her watch and spitting a mouthful of toothpaste into the sink. There wasn’t time to run a comb through those pillow-tousled locks, no spare chance to fiddle with inserting her beloved contact lenses, and, devastatingly-so, no opportunity to brew the caf she so desperately craved, instead using every attainable second to shove her glasses onto her nose and yank a pair of mismatched socks onto her feet before dashing out the door with her shoes in her hand.

How she’d managed to descend those twenty something flights of stairs whilst jamming her toes into sneakers whose laces she’d refused to untie, would forever remain a mystery, yet she burst, uninhibited, out into another glorious day of sun and hurried toward her bike.

Running a little late, she typed as she swung her leg over her seat. Yes, I know what day it is, and yes I hate myself for it. Head to the base without me and get started, I'll be there asap.

The manner of which she whizzed through those skylanes was nothing short of appalling and downright illegal, though the consequences that would have ensued from the Coruscant police had she been caught driving so carelessly promised a lesser burden than having to witness the utter disappointment behind Challa’s violet eyes if she’d rolled into class atop its last few minutes, that uncharacteristic tardiness having foiled the plan he so desperately vied to enact.

The landmark of those dancing purple barriers anchored her focus, and she directed her bike downward immediately upon spotting those bright beacons. Offering nothing but a nod to the troopers flanking the gate, she jammed her card against the control panel and drummed her hands anxiously against the handlebars whilst waiting for it to roll aside and permit her entry.

In perfect correlation to that tumultuous morn, the hallways adjacent that familiar entrance were livelier than June had ever witnessed, and though panic threatened to flare in her chest as she wove urgently through that dense sea of white and painted plastoid, she had eyes only for the door enclosing her classroom.

Wholly hot in the face from the alacrity of which she’d moved about those energetic corridors, and entirely averse to exacerbating her shameful punctuality with a grand and conspicuous entrance, she scanned her card atop the control panel beside the door and stood back out of view as it slid ajar. Yet her feat for discretion had failed, and much to her dismay, the flood of light pouring into that darkened room from the hallway of where she hid, had every head in that oversized room turning to face her as she stepped apprehensively into that familiar theater.

“Hi,” she muttered to no one in particular, sweat beading along her hairline as adrenaline continued to crash through her veins, and she offered Challa only an apologetic smile before diminishing her presence by slunking around the back of the room where that blinding overhead spotlight failed to soften the darkness. Quickly thunking her bag down atop the teacher’s desk, she stole a moment to appease her thundering heart with a few deep breaths.

Challa’s voice echoed around the room as a smattering of whispers broke out in the wake of her arrival, though June remained incognizant to it all as she stooped toward the ground to finally fix how the tongue of her left shoe had bunched amidst her haste to jam her foot into place. Yet that discomfort was nothing compared to the engorgeing pit in her stomach, and not even the aching burn atop her shoulders held the power to smother the weight of imminent reality.

Today was the day. It had finally transpired despite continued pleas to the stars that they wield their powerful divinity into formulating any alternative that could uphold her taciturn perch behind the desk and away from those two hundred eyes. But it was lecture day— her lecture day, and even sneaking a peek below her arm toward the podium saw a cresting wave of nausea crashing through her gut, the addition of a small table adjacent that microphone, and the white plastoid case perched innocently atop that nondescript surface, both harbingers of the peregrination she now had to navigate.

“Everyone grab your kits please, and open them on your desk!” Challa’s instructions finally broke through that tormented stupor, and she stood up straight to meet him as he neared. Though, his expression wore none of the disdain or contempt she’d wholly expected, those thin, caf coloured lips arcing into a reassuring smile as he came to a halt beside her.

“I’m sorry,” June offered him, that apology robbed of its solemnity by the breathless way it escaped her lips. “I don’t know how I sle—”

“You look like a walking strawberry,” Challa interrupted neath a chuckle of which she’d never heard left his lips, lissome arm swinging backward atop the imminent gesture of attempting to appease her worry with a gentle clap on the shoulder.

“You should see the kriffing skin on my back,” she groaned, rebuking the otherwise innocent motion for the sake of her aching skin. “I’m burnt to a crisp. Please don’t don’t give me a morning off again until Autumn.”

“Keep working ninety hour weeks and I’ll have little choice, June,” Challa argued. “You’re going to work yourself into the ground.”

“That’s the plan…”

“Let’s limit that morbidity, shall we? This is an occasion that deserves your highest enthusiasm! I’ve already informed the students we’ll be trying a change in leadership today so they’re expecting you whenever you’re ready.”

“Oh, wow, great,” June grumbled back, the feigned enthusiasm neath her tone entirely trumped by the disdain she upheld for this stupid, stupid plan and those horribly tight scrubs.

“Just get going,” Challa dictated, seemingly attuned to the ineffable unease that had her perpetually dawdling behind that desk, and it took him physically shoving his datapad into the crevasse of her tightly knotted arms and nudging her toward the stage before she finally did away with that obstinance and wiped those beads of sweat from her hairline.

**Next Chapter will be going up tomorrow!**

FOREWORD | MASTER | PREV | NEXT | AO3

Tag list: @anxiouspineapple99 @sinfulsalutations @starrylothcat @nobody-expects-the-inquisitorius @secondaryrealm @dystopicjumpsuit @freesia-writes @sev-on-kamino @littlemissmanga @523rdrebel @wings-and-beskar @wolffegirlsunite @drafthorsemath @jediknightjana @starstofillmydream @mooncommlink @wizardofrozz @trixie2023 @clonethirstingisreal @lune-de-miel-au-paradis @mythical-illustrator @arctrooper69 @smw-on-kamino

#starqueenswrittenworks #The Only Exception #captain howzer x fem!OC #fem!OC x captain howzer #howzer x fem!OC #fem!OC x howzer #OC: June Kiore #captain howzer fanfic #longfic

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dojae-huh · 1 year ago

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The tour and the solos

Some thoughts on the messy schedule of January-February of 2024 and lack of American leg for NCT Unity tour.

Foreword. I think we, fans, should get used to this order of things. SM gets more and more artists, more and more neos do solo activities. It becomes impossible to dedicate socmed for a period of time to only one unit or a member. It's not just solos. BA work, YT content announcement, magazine pictorials, etc. - these activities also need to be announced, and they break a sequence of promotional material of the member under the spotlight.

Ideally, an album should be announced a month prior to its release. Three weeks is the usual time for SM. Three weeks of pre-release promotional run+two weeks of music shows+a week or two for "tails" (fanmeets, bts yt content, some magazine articles). A month and a half. 4 units, 2 comebacks per year. 8x1.5=12. As you see, a smooth series of comebacks is possible in an ideal scenario and without solos. However, some units have 3 comebacks (+singles/Japanese releases). Some months are bad for comebacks (Olympics, holidays). I didn't include NCT/NCT U/DJJ/solos. Not to mention, members get sick, members get tied by obligations to third-parties (tv-series, BA appearences), and there are multiple possible reasons for delays in production of albums and MVs, multiple ways a "perfect" schedule can go awry.

That being said, a schedule for NCT still can be paced better than we had this winter. I would not like a repeat. I think it is the result of catching up with things (Ten's solo, it was postponed), priorities (Wish debut at SMtown), and Taeyong not having much time left (enlistment) with the need to continue with 127's Unity tour (Tokyo Dome, March 9-10). In addition, both Tae and Ten had BA appearence obligations at the time of their comebacks. Even if they don't take too long, they still affect scheduling of fanmeets and concerts.

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

If you browse X, you'll easily see fans believing SM is intentionally sabotaging NCT 127 and some neos (Taeyong and Ten). "SM can't let them become too popular". Such statements are close to a fan's heart, evoke immidiate emotional responce.

Where is the proof and argumentation though?

It is indeed not peachy inside SM right now. Kakao, Hybe are the new biggest shareholders. CEOs were changed. There were talks about the board consisting of only finance guys, and artists trying to fight back. Ongoing investigations of Kakao, SM and Align that helped to oust LSM. A constant mayhem. I don't even go there.

NCT is SM's current bread-winner (together with aespa). After LSM/Kakao/Hybe feudal war SM needs to show investors its 3.0 plan is working, that the company is profitable, it will have money to pay dividents, that despite foreign investors losing interest in k-pop companies and pulling out, and SM stock falling low because of investigations, SM is still a worthy company to trust its money to. Believe in it, and it will come out a winner, and stocks will rebound. Hence, SM needs good sales from NCT and all the members. SM needs money. The company is undergoing a big change and is buying companies in US and establishing new ones for music production&distribution, not to forget SM needs money for the new groups (they will take time with investment return).

Secondly, 127 neos are approaching contract renewal. It is not the time to dissapoint them and make them think of possibly parting ways. Yes, Taeyong now knows his worth and alludes to it in interviews. Who will bring money then? Dream? They have their renewals same year. Who says they won't decide to join their hyungs after witnessing a bad treatment of them?

Intentionally sabotaging the artists, making them regret being signed to the company, simply doesn't make sense in the current situation SM is in.

Taeil had a duet song with an indie artist once (whose company is an SM's sub-label). I consider the video for their song as the bottom of SM's lowered standarts. Nowadays covers get a better treatment.

Now, think of the quality of photoshoots and promotional videos Ten and Taeyong got. Clear concepts were developed, professionals were hired, everything was organised quickly, solutions were found (like wigs for Tae). Both were given a lot of say, their opinion listened to. Taeyong got to perform on music shows the song he likes the most (Moon tour) and the one (APE) he asked to be added to the album after A&R offered him their list. By the way, the quality of print of the latest albums is much better than Resonance.

Fans heard Taeyong used one of his jackets (the white puff one), and run with the story he styled all other outfits and did his own make-up, lol. Since when Taeyong is a make-up artist? As for Loewe, it's how it's done. Brands give clothes to idol companies to be used and advertised, it's benefitial for both parties. Jaehyun is constantly in Prada in recent 127 MVs.

Money on promotion should be spent wisely. Afterall, profit starts only after the expenses are covered. If some type of advertisement is costly but brings little exposure, is not effective, it shouldn't be implemented. It is better to spend those money on something else.

Beyonce can promote her album through one twit, and that will be enough, it is because she has the capital of her name. Fans tend to not realise this about idols. New groups need a lot of promotion to gain fans. For older artists their name does the work, they already have a fandom. K-pop is not for general public, it's a niche product. The 1,2 mln Spotify subscribers on Tae's channel will hear the new album without any special ad. Same applies to subscribers on other music platforms.

Despite Taeyong giving only two concerts in a small venue (Seoul has a problem with venues, this one is used by many k-pop idols), his concert was prepared better than Link. He flew in the air, there was a giant "T" letter, lightsticks were synchronised. Taeyong decided on the setlist himself, he was given full reign over it.

Whatever problems there are on the upper level with higher ups, the staff at NCT centre worked with intention to do right by the artists.

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

A lot of money was invested in American market. 127 spent a month there. It is not reasonable to just forget about it after the effort brought results. During Link tour 127 spent 2 weeks in NA and gave 8 shows. Meaning, even a short-lasting trip is enough. The more concerts (with the same setlist, props, choreos) a tour has, the more profit and return, afterall. Again, it is not reasonable to shorten it, when it is actually a well enough prepared concert.

So "Why"? I think it is a simple result of "squeze in" approach. Normally, Tae's 2nd album would be released later, but he wanted it before enlistment. If Taeyong enlists somewhere in late March-early April, then perhaps the US leg was sacrificed for his solo. MarkHyuk also need time to prepare for Dream activities, at least 2 weeks, I guess.

To be honest, the lack of NA concerts puzzles me. Japan is more profitable (domes) and more convenient (close), so it takes precedence. Still. Taeyong is the only culprit I can think off, lol.

#notes in the margins #chain reaction

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urhoneycombwitch · 1 year ago

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I know what they call you.

Eddie Munson x shy!Reader You’re a little lost in your head. Eddie wants to find you.

foreword: The healing properties of good head <333 Anyways I labeled this R “shy” but she’s more… introverted? Reserved? this one goes out to the weird and off-putting girlies who have a lot to say but are kinda quiet instead. Timeline may be a bit wibbly but designed it to be early 4th-season era, with R (early 20s) having played an undetermined part in the various Upside Down battles from seasons previous. Loosely based on this anon every1 say thank you anon!

cw: alcohol/weed used as a social crutch, R is hassled by a guy at a party (but her boys back her up), brief vomit mention, implied bad home life for R, light SH by way of tight grip, PTSD, R has breasts+V, praise kink, oral (R receiving), one (1) spank, multiple orgasms (R), soft dom!eddie, overstim, coming in pants (E)

wc: 11k

___

It’s spring break, 1986, and you’re cursing the name of your so-called “best friend” Robin Buckley.

You didn’t even want to go to this stupid kegger in the first place, arguing with her the whole ride over from Steve’s backseat.

“Don’t you think it’s totally lame that you’re basically being chaperoned by two gap-year losers?” you’d said, leaning forward to rest your elbows on the console, seatbelt pulling taut across your Rolling Stones tee. “You’re a big girl, Robin, you don’t need Steve and me to babysit you anymore.”

Robin began protesting but Steve interrupted, tapping at your forearms without looking away from the road- “Sit back, wouldja, that’s not safe. And for the record, it’d only be lame if we were, like, thirty and still going to high school kickbacks. Gap-year drinking parties are a rite of passage.”

You’d sat back against your seat with a huff, arms crossed, unconvinced until Robin turned those big pleading eyes your way over the back of her seat. “You wanna talk about lame? Lame is me getting anywhere within a 60-foot radius of Vickie. I am totally hopeless around that absolute beauty.”

She’d twisted in her seat and reached for your hand, and you gave it to her grudgingly (the two of you ignoring another of Steve’s gripe about vehicular safety) as she said, “You’re like, the best wingwoman I’ve ever met. Please come to the party and help me avoid the natural disaster that is me running my mouth.”

Robin wasn’t just being generous- you were a killer third wheel. Especially when alcohol was involved: the walls that you naturally upheld around your introverted demeanor by day turned liquid as whiskey by night, often scoring you major cool points with your friends for things you barely remembered doing the day after.

So you’d relented, and in turn resolved to get as drunk as possible as quickly as possible (in the name of Robin’s aid, of course), but turns out your best friend didn’t even need your help in the first place; within 5 minutes of setting foot in the crammed house party Robin won a spot right next to Vickie on the living room couch, starry-eyed gaze saved only for the redhead that bore no room for your intervention.

Three shots ago, the situation would have struck you as funny, but it’s been a lonely time (what with Steve abandoning you, too, in favor of chatting up some college blonde); drifting from packed room to packed room, sneakers sticking to the floorboards, winding through throngs of sweaty dancing students just to keep on top of your alcohol consumption.

Kind of like hunting in the wild, you muse, leaned against a wall with red solo cup in hand. Flirt with Amy Thacker and her low-cut blouse to access the watering hole (Mystery Punch, green both in color and flavor); let Lenny Baker put his paws on your waist to gain entry to the standing liquor cabinet. The stuff of nature docs.

If this dimly-lit Hawkins party is the savanna, then you are the antelope- grazing on snacks, never staying in one spot for too long, minding your own business and staying way the hell away from the lion’s den (the group of jocks in Hawkins Tigers polos).

Unfortunately, you push off the wall in search of a refill at the same time Lenny Baker decides to sidle up to you, nearly knocking the cup from your grasp when he bends his thick head to shout in your ear above the music.

“Great party, right?” His arms are crossed above his tank of a chest, blocking you from a smooth exit via the kitchen archway.

“If you’re into drunk teens, I guess,” you say back, pointedly, licking a stripe up your wrist from where the punch had sloshed onto your bare arm.

When you look back up Lenny’s still standing there, watching you with a hungry edge that’s starting to make your well-honed antelope-sense tingle. As you not-so-subtly cast your glance around for Steve, Lenny leans in again, close enough to give you a sour whiff of his breath. “I’m legal, if that’s what’s got your panties in a twist. And what’s wrong with having some fun?”

“I’m not into having fun with douchebags who ‘roid away their remaining brain cells to bully my friends,” you retort, flatly. You doubt this guy knows you’re connected to the Hellfire group (de facto sitter, second only to Steve), but the insult seems to land anyways.

Lenny scoffs, going for a low blow to offset the sting of his bruised ego- “If you’re trying to play the part of slut, you were doing a way better job earlier.”

What the meathead hasn’t picked up on yet is your absolute lack of care about him- or anyone else at this stupid fucking party, for that matter. Besides Robin and Steve, obviously, but they’re equally indisposed at the moment. You’re feeling bold enough that you could play dirty: throw the dregs of your drink in his face, make a real scene- but the shots from earlier are hitting you sideways and you’re not entirely confident in your ability to multitask.

So instead, with a wink, you tell him, “At least this slut knows when to quit,” and turn on your heel, abandoning the kitchen escape route for a closer door that leads to the back porch.

You suck in lungfuls of cool night air, trying to clear the fuzz of booze from your vision. When you don’t hear any angry footsteps following in your wake, you sink against the wooden bannister and tip back the last of your drink in one swallow. Maybe Steve doubled back to the car…?

With your empty cup left neatly on the railing, you set off down the couple of steps that separate you from the grass, except the toe of your shoe catches on a hidden groove in the wood, and nothing is within reach to grab onto as you trip and begin to fall.

The stumble should have ended with you facedown in the dirt, but something- someone- solid breaks your downward path, catching the upper half of your body in a sturdy hold even as your legs twist around themselves.

“Whoa, whoa, hey, I gotcha. You okay?”

The voice is instantly familiar, one that you’ve heard ringing out from underneath the drama room door on countless occasions as you’ve waited on your various child wards to wrap up their D&D sessions.

Eddie Munson is holding you in his leather-clad arms, larger than life with that big cloud of hair and doe-eyed gaze matching yours. He helps you stand, properly, dropping his hands once you’re stabilized and taking the warmth of his palms with him.

“You okay?” he asks again, tilting his head, looking at you with fresh concern from under that mop of bangs. “Looks like you had a lot to drink.”

“Thanks, Dad,” you drawl, bravado flooding back in. “Am I really gonna get a fucking lecture on drinking from my local drug dealer?”

Instead of rising to the bait or bristling at your tone, Eddie grins- delighted, wolfish- before letting out a low whistle. “Who coulda guessed: resident Shy Girl has a mouth on her.”

You twist said mouth into your own smile, one that you hope is coy and charming and not dorkily lopsided (because you stopped being able to feel your face after that last drink), and coo, “You thinkin’ about my mouth, Munson?”

He laughs- a full, vibrant sound that lights up the night. There’s a flutter in your ribcage, knocking up a frenzy at the noise, like it wants to get out and at him, but you tamp it down and play it cool.

“You’ve only seen me in the cold, unforgiving light of day,” you continue, as Eddie rifles through his pockets, surfacing with a pack of cigs, eye contact yet to be broken. “My nighttime alter ego is a real riot, all liquored up.”

“Well, I happen to think you’re a riot in the sober light of day, too.” Eddie shrugs a shoulder as he flips the lid of the cigarette box.

You’re unsure if he’s messing with you- he’s gotta be, right? The only meaningful interaction you two have had in the past handful of years has been through the courtesy of the children in your respective care- a few surface-level conversations during carpool pickup, some flirting on his end that you’ve always been too skittish to return.

Well, until now, you guess. Maybe this is a good thing, him seeing you like this- it’ll either scare him away, or you’ll finally make good on the quiet crush you’ve been harboring.

You’re about to speak again when the porch door opens with a bang; you and Eddie swivel at the same time to see Lenny clomping noisily towards the steps, voice booming out over the thrum of bass back inside- “This freak bothering you?”

You look between the metalhead and the jock, eyes wide and mocking as you call back, “No, but you’re starting to!”

“Jesus, talk about poking the bear,” you hear Eddie mutter behind you, but your focus is taken up by the fact that Lenny is tromping down the steps and reaching out to grab your upper arm, his cold and clammy palm taking up a sizeable amount of space.

You can feel that rage, simmering and easily accessed, start to crawl over your skin. You stand your ground in the face of someone much larger than you, sneakers planted firmly, chin tilted in defiance- I’ve killed monsters in alternate dimensions, asswipe. You might’ve scared me back in high school but now I dare you to fuck with me.

Before Eddie can jump to your defense, you’re already going in for the bite, voice dripping with derisiveness. “So glad your right hand found its way off your dick for a change, Len. How about you do me one better and take it far, far away from here?”

Lenny’s face is almost purple with anger as his grip tightens, and you feel Eddie moving in at your back- to do what exactly, hard to say, ‘cuz Lenny’s got about 60 pounds on the lanky DM- but just as fast as the tension has ramped up, it gets diffused with the arrival of one Steve Harrington from around the corner of the house.

He cuts a smooth path through the grass to your other side, Robin’s sweater slung over one arm, twirling his car keys in neat loops around his finger, boasting a casual demeanor that doesn’t match up with the steely look he’s giving Lenny. “You heard the girl, Baker. Time to am-scray.”

Whether it’s the rumors of Steve’s nail bat or the manic look in your eyes or the fact that he’s outnumbered, Lenny’s got plenty of reason now to drop your arm.

Which he does, spitting one last “bitch” at you before hulking off into the night.

The anger in you recedes like a wave. You breathe out a dry laugh, then turn back to the boys, clasping your hands over your heart with faux-dopeyness. “My heroes. How will I ever repay you?”

“Shutting up, for a change, would be a great start,” Steve grouses over the sound of Eddie’s cackles.

“Holy shit. Can’t believe your girl’s feistiness almost landed me in the hospital.” Eddie shakes his head, plucking a cigarette out and sticking it between his plush lips.

“She’s not my girl,” Steve says, even as you wind your arms around his chest from behind, tucking your chin over his shoulder. “She is, unfortunately, my problem.”

“I love when you two talk about me like I’m not here.” You simper at Eddie from your draped position.

He’s watching you with a fondness that feels overly familiar, through the haze of smoke streaming from his nostrils as you pat the chest beneath your hands- “Don’t worry about ol’ Stevie boy. He’s turned into quite the good guard dog after the whole Russian mall takeover last year.”

“Aaaaand that’s enough talking from you,” Steve says firmly, twisting out of your arms and putting his own around your waist. “Say goodbye to your new buddy, we’ve got a Robin to collect.”

As Steve steers you towards the direction of his car you wave at Eddie, a motion that he returns, his rings glinting in the porch light.

“Christ, you really are somethin’ else with some drinks in you,'' Steve fusses, helping you into the backseat, hand shooting up to block the door frame before your head can collide with the metal. “Did you seriously have to bring up the Russians?”

“He probably thought it was a joke, Steve,” you say, exasperated and fighting the twisted middle seatbelt with uncoordinated hands. “You know… those things that you tell people when you wanna get in their pants?”

The crack was aimed at Steve’s recent string of strike-outs in the dating department, but he throws it back at you. “You’re trying to get in Eddie Munson’s pants?”

“No,” you sputter, indignant and feeling suddenly too hot.

Steve knocks your still-struggling hands from the belt, clicking you in himself, before pointing an accusatory finger in your face. “Stay here while I get Robin, and no throwing up in the Beemer.”

He shuts the door, Robin’s sweatshirt hanging from one shoulder while he stalks back into the house.

You let your head fall back against the seat and close your eyes, bright cherry embers of cigarettes between lush-lipped curves dancing behind the dark of your lids.

___

You manage to avoid throwing up in the BMW, saving the worst of it for the downstairs toilet of the Harrington house after Steve drags you and Robin indoors. Once your body is purged of the spirits, you collapse into your usual side of the guest bed, sweaty and exhausted, murmuring an apology to Robin who squeaks at the rocking movement of the mattress. In a few minutes, you’re lulled to sleep by the gentle snores of your best friend.

The morning sun is a very rude awakening, Robin apparently having forgotten to close the blinds before leaving with Steve for their shifts at Family Video. There’s a full glass of water on the bedside table and a few loose Tylenol tablets, the word “DRINK” sprawled on a sticky note in Steve’s handwriting.

You wince, down the meds along with half the water, and start the search for your sneakers.

When you’d signed up to protect a bunch of teens at the end of the world awhile back, it had seemed like a one-time gig. But now, here you were a few years later, loading yourself into your curb-parked junker to willingly cart around the same kids.

While wearing yesterday’s clothes. Even with the sprays of cologne that you’d stolen from Steve’s dresser, you’re pretty sure you’ll be fooling no one.

Evidenced by your first stop in east Hawkins for Dustin Henderson, who clambers into the front seat with a scathing appraisal. “Rough night?”

“You could say that,” you reply, shifting the gear to drive and grimacing at the subsequent squeal of metal that pierces into your left temple. “Learn from my mistakes as a washed-up twenty-something and cool it on the teen drinking, all right?”

“Washed up though you may be,” Dustin intones sagely, digging through his backpack and producing two brown-paper bundles, “you are now one Claudia Henderson Breakfast Sandwich Deluxe richer.”

You take the proffered sandwich gratefully, steering with one hand to peel back the oil-stained paper from the still-warm bread. “God. Is your mom looking to adopt?”

“She’s kind of got the perfect child already, but I’ll keep my ear to the ground for ya,” Dustin says around a mouthful of cheese and egg.

The solid breakfast helps your stomach ease back into a place of normality, but with your next stop adding two more kids to the mix, the rowdy bickering that follows puts that Tylenol to work.

“You’re an idiot,” Max is saying to Lucas over the sound of his indignation in the back seat. “You seriously think Indiana Jones would win against Supergirl? She can shapeshift, and she has heat vision.”

“All I’m saying is, it’s really hard to see a whip coming.” Lucas is stretching the limits of his seatbelt in his earnestness to get his girlfriend on his side.

It doesn’t work- Max rolls her eyes and taps at your shoulder. “Help me out here. His logic is totally shit, right?”

Making a turn onto the main road, you nod your assent without looking back. “I think you should listen to your very smart girlfriend, Lucas.”

Max makes a triumphant “hah”, and Dustin adds fuel to the argument’s fire when he drags in some other comic book character that you’ve never heard of.

You hazard a glance in your rear-view mirror at Max, who’s too busy dishing out an enthusiastic rebuttal to notice. Her auburn braids swing with the movement of the car, and you wonder if they were done by her mother before work or if Max had to rely on her own hair expertise again.

You’ve got a real soft spot for Max, always have. While you both have plenty of cause to bond over shitty home lives, it’s also Max’s brash and defiant attitude that drew you to her. She’s got the bravery you can only hope for, something that you are sure to tell her frequently, even though the compliment is hard for her to take.

You score a parking spot that’s right in front of the arcade, calling after the kids already scrambling out of your car that you want to leave at noon, sharp. They all give some form of distracted acknowledgement before disappearing into the building, so you figure the earliest you'll be getting out of here is noon-thirty.

Not like you have much to do today, anyways, besides bother Steve and Robin at work- since the arcade is conveniently located right next to Family Video, it’s a perfect excuse to wait out the kids’ spring break activities in the company of your nearest and dearest.

You’re cutting a swift track up the sidewalk when you nearly collide with Eddie Munson, for the second time in less than 24 hours.

“Hey!” He beams at you, a wide, easy thing that fits on his face so well, like it was made to be there, boyish dimples digging in. “Long time no see.”

“Yeah,” you agree, trying to smile back but probably landing somewhere in the grimace region as memories of last night float to the forefront of your mind. Small talk. You can do it. Say something. “Um. Were you getting a movie?”

“Nah.” Eddie shakes his head, hooks a thumb at the Family Video doors behind himself. “Keith’s one of my regulars. That guy might actually smoke more weed than me.”

You hum mildly to show you’re still paying attention but really you’re looking at Eddie’s hair, dark curls that shift with each of his movements. His hair isn’t black, like you’ve been led to believe this whole time- with the morning light shining through, highlighting the halo frizz around the edges, it’s actually a deep, chocolatey brown.

Similar to his eyes. Which are trained on you. Because you haven’t talked in a weird amount of time and are now just openly ogling his hair.

Before you can open your mouth to apologize Eddie asks, “You wanna smoke?”

You nod, perhaps a tad too enthusiastically, and then stretch on your tiptoes to peer around Eddie’s frame at the Family Video sign. “Yeah, but we gotta be fast unless you want the Wonder Twins joining us.”

His grin slips into a smirk, and he winks before taking your hand in his. “A quickie, then.”

That fluttering thing in your ribs is back. The metal of Eddie’s rings are cool against your palm as he leads you around the side of the building, dropping your hand once you both are leaned up against the red brick.

Trying not to outright stare again, you watch from the fringes of your vision as Eddie lights up and breathes a cloud of smoke into the air. His nails are painted black- they weren’t last night. An image of him- hunched over a kitchen table, tongue sticking out of those pillowy lips in concentration, a nail polish brush held in his long fingers- flits across your mind.

Eddie holds the cigarette out, filter-side towards you, and you shake your head lightly. “No thanks. I don’t actually smoke, I just wanted to talk to you.”

Eddie glows. Before he gets the wrong idea you start explaining, arms crossing tight over your chest in unconscious defense- “I wanted to talk about last night. And say I’m sorry. I’m not usually so…”

“Badass? Charming? Hot?” Eddie fills in when you trail off, taking in another deep drag of smoke.

Christ. You feel heat rushing from head to toe as you ward off his flattery, nails nipping into your upper arms. “I was gonna say… talkative? I guess? I’m normally not one to pick fights, but Lenny was being a dick and I don’t like the way he treats the kids, or you, for that matter, and I was drunk and mouthy but that’s not an excuse to drag you into it and I’m sorry-”

“Hey, hey.” Eddie’s tone is soothing, low, cutting smoothly into your feverish confession. He reaches out and strokes the back of his knuckle across your hand, tiny half-moons from your nails leaving their impression as you soften your grasp on yourself.

He doesn’t seem to mind that you can’t look anywhere but at your sneakers planted in the gravel as he says, “You have nothing to apologize for, sweetheart. I’m a big boy, I can handle myself when it comes to dickwads like Lenny Baker. And I would say that rescuing fair maidens is part of my job description, but…”

Eddie stubs the half-smoked cigarette out against the brick, flicks it to the ground, and waits until you look up at him again before saying “You don’t seem like you’re in need of any saving.”

That flutter, again, as you hold his eye contact for as long as you can stand it.

The corner of his mouth quirks up. “There she is.”

Mortified, you resist the urge to scream into your hands as you push off from the brick, instead squeezing them into fists at your sides. “Oh-kay. Well. I better head inside or Robin will send out the search party for me.”

Eddie lets you walk past him, but just before you turn the corner he says, “I’m across from the Mayfields in Forest Hills if you ever want some company. Or some good weed.”

Footfalls from his thick-heeled boots recede into the distance, and you take a minute to calm your breathing before pushing your way through the doors of Family Video.

Steve’s stocking a shelf of New Releases at the front of the store, vest-clad torso faced away as the bell above the door signals your entrance. On autopilot he monologues, “Welcome to Family Video, let us know how we can be of service.”

“Aw, I miss the days when you were forced to say Ahoy, mateys!” You tease, Steve turning to give you an irritated frown as you prop your hip against the register counter.

Robin clacks away on the computer, hitting the Enter key a little harder than necessary as she says, “You’re about one mall fire and a bajillion NDA’s too late to ever hear that shit again.”

Keith must be lurking around in the back office, ‘cuz the three of you only refer to last year’s cataclysmic series of events as a “mall fire” when you’re talking in code.

Or if you’re trying to be funny. But based on the dark circles under Robin’s eyes and the harried way Steve’s shoving a hand through his hair as he drifts towards the counter, you surmise that the three of you are very much on the same page this morning with regards to humor and hijinks.

“I didn’t know it was possible to be this hungover,” Robin groans, sinking her hand into a torn-open Skittles bag and popping a handful into her mouth. “Sugar is supposed to help, right?”

You snort, fiddling with a stack of paper brochures as Steve leans against the counter.

“Had any more run-ins with the town riffraff?” He asks, feigning casual, honey-colored eyes roaming around the shop.

“I’m visiting you, aren’t I?” You shoot back, unreasonably defensive.

“Another point for the pretty lady, and Harrington strikes a zero,” Robin totals in her best sports broadcasting voice. “What the hell are you talking about, Steve?”

“Drinky McGee over here was spilling her guts last night to none other than Edward Munson,” Steve replies, looking satisfied when Robin’s eyes bug dramatically.

“Eddie?” Robin hops off the stool, sliding her hands from the other side of the counter to stop your own from ripping the brochures to shreds. “And what, pray tell, were you spilling about with Eddie Muson?”

“Nothing.” You pull your hands from Robin’s, rolling your eyes as if the stakes are low, when in fact the stakes are as tall as the Empire State Building. You can practically hear the wind whistling from this height. “I wasn’t… we barely talked. He was backing me up when some jock started messing with me. That’s all.”

Robin whirls on Steve with animosity- “You left her alone long enough for some meathead to get involved? Jesus, Steve, the hell is wrong with you?”

“Like you shacking up with Vickie after two Tears for Fears tracks is any more responsible!” Steve snaps.

Having spent enough time with both your friends to know their propensity towards petty arguments, you slap a hand against the counter to derail. “Hey! Both of you knock it off. It’s fine, I’m fine, we survived yet another night out on the town unscathed. Let’s just… drop it.”

Steve looks properly chastised, but Robin gets a glint in her eye that confirms she’s not thrown off the scent so easily.

“You know what they call him, right?” she asks you, lowering her raspy voice even further.

“Eddie The Freak Munson,” Steve supplies, but shrinks noticeably when Robin gives him a withering look. “...not that, then?”

“Of course you, Steve The Hair Harrington, would only know him by that name.” Robin shakes her head, disapproving, before turning back to you with a wicked grin. “Word on the street holds Eddie The Munch Munson in very high regard.”

Steve scoffs at this, but you blink, uncomprehending. “Munch, like… he eats a lot of food?”

You feel very suddenly and violently ganged up on when Steve and Robin give you mirrored quizzical looks.

“No, babe,” Robin says, slowly. “Munch as in he eats pussy.”

“Jesus christ.” Heat courses through you as you scan the empty store, even as Steve chuckles and says, “You really are a prude.”

A skittle sails airborne into the side of his temple and he flinches, Robin coming to your aid. “That’s no way to talk to a lady, Steven.”

“I’m so not a prude.” You’re quick to jump to your own defense. “I just… didn’t know what that meant.”

You’d had a boyfriend for 6 months your sophomore year of high school, Ben- nice enough guy, but you’d mostly dated as an excuse to get all your firsts out of the way. Some laid-back hookups have occurred since then- it’s not like you’ve been chaste all these years, for fuck’s sake.

But you certainly wouldn’t give any of those boys a prize-winning nickname for their ability to eat you out.

“It’s all baseless gossip, right?” Steve grabs a nearby wheeled cart and pushes it to the New Releases, resuming his shelf stocking. “I mean, what the hell else are small-townies good for other than trading lies like baseball cards.”

“I dunno,” Robin says, thoughtfully, sucking at her front teeth. “If the token lesbian is hearing about it, then he’s gotta be some sort of sex god.”

Steve’s making a snarky comeback, but you can’t hear him over the whistling in your ears.

You stare blankly out at the parking lot, one hand absently crunching at a brochure, trying really hard to think of anything but those plush lips and all the places you want them.

____

Ever since the events of last year ripped a hole in your found family’s world, you make it a weekly habit to visit Max.

You’re always armed with some excuse- made too much pasta, please take it off my hands and put this tupperware in your fridge; I was on my way to the thrift store and thought I’d stop by, wanna come with and help me pick out some new jeans?- so that it’s harder for Max to deny your company. Slowly, over the last handful of months, by way of secondhand book offerings and slices of leftover pizza, Max has let her guard down enough to let you in.

Even on days like today, when her demeanor suggests active disdain (calling you “mom” with a caustic bite when you ask after her last meal, rolling her eyes when she finds you doing the leftover sink dishes), you don’t take it personal. Her coldness towards little acts of kindness is due to the shitty way other people have failed her. And plus, you’ve put in enough effort to be able to see the warm side of Max Mayfield.

Like now, for instance- she’s giving you a bone-crushing hug on your way out, freshly-braided hair pressed tight to your sternum as you hug her back and sway in the doorway. The hug is quick and fierce, over in seconds as she slips back into practiced indifference

“Stay out of trouble this week and I’ll buy you a pony,” you joke as she pulls away, and the smile that she cracks makes it all worth it.

“Make it a racehorse and you’ve got yourself a deal,” she says, giving you a small wave before closing her front door.

You walk down the dirt path to your parked car, keys in hand. Tonight’s schedule is that of a responsible, sensible young adult- the classified ads on your desk at home need trawling through, and a laundry pile the size of Hoosier Hill waits expectantly on your floor.

But there’s this crawling under your skin, a feeling that tends to flare up every so often, a craving for some sort of release gnawing at the edges. Usually the cure is sad music and masturbation, or some of Steve’s parents’ wine and a cheesy romcom.

Or weed. That tends to work, too.

You’re shoving your keys into the pocket of your denim jacket and walking across the way to Eddie’s trailer before you lose your nerve, scuffing your sneakers against his porch while you knock.

He looks surprised to see you, dark brows raised, leaning into the palm he’s got on the doorframe- “Oh shit. Hi.”

“Hi,” you reply, tracking one foot up the back of your calf, feeling timid under his gaze. “Do you… can I buy some weed?”

When he nods, you duck under his arm and drop to one knee on the carpeted floor to untie your laces.

“Shit, sweetheart, don’t go to all that trouble.” He lets the door close, enveloping you both in the moody lighting of his trailer. There’s a radio playing the local rock station dimly from one of the bedrooms, and as you toe off your shoes you notice a gleaming black guitar leaned upright against the couch.

“Do you play?” You drift over on sock feet to gently brush across the strings, a faint and discordant noise rising and fading underneath your fingertips.

“Yeah.” Eddie’s voice comes from just over your shoulder as he watches your gentle fingers on his prized possession. “I’m in a band, actually. You should come see us play sometime.”

“That’s cool,” you say earnestly. “I remember when you got in trouble for that talent show performance- your band was totally swindled out of first place, if you ask me.”

When he doesn’t respond right away, you hazard a look at him over your shoulder and find him staring at you again, something you’re still not used to, giggling out a little “What?” as his eyes stay on your face.

“You’re pretty, that’s all.” The Dio logo on the front of his tee ripples when he shrugs a shoulder. As if he knew it would embarrass you, he leaves no room for your disagreement, turning away into the kitchen, stretching tall for the metal lunchbox on the top of his fridge.

His shirt lifts with the stretch, a flash of stomach lined with a trail of dark hair that makes you swallow back the gathering saliva in your mouth.

“So, weed,” he’s saying as he pops the lid on the box, shaking out a small bag of fuzzy-looking green clumps. “I can set you up with a couple of days’ worth, if you want.”

“That sounds good,” you reply, mustering courage to drift to Eddie’s side, pretending to assess the baggie he’s holding, committing to memory the way his long fingers deftly pluck apart bud from stem. “That way I can come back and buy more.”

His fingers pause, halfway to the metal grinder nestled in the lunchbox as he says, “You know, you don’t need to use weed as an excuse to come see me. I think we’ve already established I like lookin’ at ya, so you’d be doing me a favor if you came by more. Just to hang out.”

This offer sits between you as he grinds the weed down, then tips a stripe of it neatly across some rolling paper. His dexterous fingers pinch and tuck until a joint takes shape, a small strip of the paper poking out.

He holds it to your lips, brown eyes shimmering with warmth as he waits.

A Stevie Nicks song starts up on the radio, muffled by the trailer walls but crooning through all the same. This close to Eddie for the first time, you can smell him- balmy and spicy, like bergamot and Irish Spring.

You lean into the joint, licking across the paper in one unbroken motion. Your tongue catches on Eddie’s thumb when you pull away, and there’s a salt-warm taste that settles in your mouth.

“Good girl,” he says, in that low-toned voice, and you have to fight to keep your thighs from pressing together in your jeans.

“Wanna smoke here?” Eddie smooths the spit-damp end of the joint down, giving the end a twist. “Good way to test out the merchandise. First one’s free.”

You shake your head as he extends the joint- “I’m definitely paying you, Eddie. And no, I can’t smoke here.” With you being the unspoken addition to that sentence.

“Aw, shucks, sweetheart,” he drawls, devilish grin creeping back in, “You don’t trust me?”

“It’s not you I don’t trust,” you admit, before you can stop yourself.

His brows shoot up again, then waggle, obscenely. “Afraid I’m gonna be too tempting to resist once you’re in the clutches of the Green Dragon?”

Something like that, you think, wryly, but that fluttering is back and you really want to shut it up, so against your sensible, better judgment, you take the joint from Eddie’s hand.

“Got a light?”

You haven’t smoked in over a month, and with your tolerance so low two hits is all it takes to get you sprawled out on the living room floor, arms akimbo like you’re making a carpet snow angel.

Eddie’s a bit more restless in his high, plucking melodious and listless tunes from the couch with his guitar, one foot propped on the coffee table near your head.

Feeling loose-limbed and confident, you stare unabashed up at Eddie. He’d put his hair into a low bun, earlier, and there are a few dark tendrils swinging free around his neck with the rocking movements of his body to the music.

He hits a snag, string buzzing out a dissonant noise. “Can’t focus with you lookin’ at me.”

“Sorry,” you murmur, except you’re not at all. “Now you know how I feel all the time.”

He sticks his tongue out at you, your girlish tittering in answer; you pat the carpet beside your hip. “Come lay with me.”

His body responds easily to your request; Eddie props the guitar back up against the couch and stretches out next to you with a sigh, a wave of that smokey sweet smell coming with him.

Under your weed-filtered view, the popcorn ceiling above you is moving, whorling and undulating in the muted light. You’re feeling gutsy and sure of yourself as you ask aloud, “Do you really think I’m pretty?”

Your head turns so you can meet Eddie’s eyes, which are dancing across your face- cheek to lips to nose back up to eyes- and he doesn’t make a joke, this time, his words coming with weighty seriousness.

“Yeah, I do. I think you’re beautiful. Always have.”

“Always?” Your echo is a soft and seeking thing.

“Yeah, always,” he confirms, simply, as if it’s a fact of life. “Woulda made a move sooner, but you always seemed so…”

“Unapproachable? Aloof? Bitchy?” You fill the gap in his speech with adjectives that have been used to characterize you in the past- usually by boys in the heat of an argument over inconsequential things that have been lost to time, only the labels sticking around.

Eddie gives you a reproachful look. “No. I was gonna say, you seemed like you were always in your own world.”

This throws you for a loop. Neck on a swivel, you look back up at the ceiling as Eddie continues.

“I wanted to get to know you more, but I’ll be the first to admit I was intimidated by you. I mean, you’re way out of my league-” Eddie ignores the sardonic snort you give to this- “-and I just assumed asking you out would've ended with an epic crash and burn.”

The ceiling stops swaying, and you swivel back to hold Eddie’s eyes again, the weed making honesty easy. “I always kinda thought you were beautiful, too.”

Awash with the bravery that only comes from being in an altered state, you keep the momentum that’s aided by Eddie’s soft smile and push up on your elbows.

“I know what they call you.”

Eddie blinks up at you, then slowly, slowly, pushes himself up onto his elbows too. “Yeah?”

It’s a taunt, a dare, an I bet you won’t.

Shows how much he knows. When you’re drunk or stoned, he’d be hard pressed to find a bet you can’t win.

You say it, unwavering. “Eddie The Munch Munson.”

His lips fall open, leaning in towards you as if drawn by a magnet, and you think he’s gonna kiss you until he falls back against the carpet, scrubbing his hands down his face. “Shit. Fuck. We can’t do this.”

“Why not?” You’re a little taken aback, ‘cuz while it’s not an outright rejection, Eddie’s upping the drama, hands pressed into the sockets of his eyes, groaning as he tips into your side.

With his forehead pressed into the curve of your shoulder, he says softly, “I think we’re both a little too stoned to be thinking clearly. And I really, really want you to think clearly when it comes to this.”

“Comes to what?” You’re egging him on now, trailing your fingers up his bicep, coy and angelic.

He rolls away from you, making a pained noise with his face smushed into the carpet before pushing himself off the ground. “You know what, princess. New topic, for the love of god. You hungry?”

You are, actually, and when he extends his hand to help you up, you take it.

Eddie whips up a box of mac and cheese while you sit on a counter nearby, conversation engaging and fluid as he cooks.

Between interjections of ‘scuse me, angel, gotta get into this cabinet and can you take over stirring for a sec? you answer all his questions. You tell him your favorite bands, the states you’d visited on a road trip when you were six, even giving him the whole “my mom’s a nice enough person but we don’t get along” spiel that you don’t usually get to until a third date.

If that’s even what this is. He’s scooping steaming noodles into two bowls, passing you one, leaning up against the counter closest to the one you’re sat on. Your knee rubs against his ribcage as you eat.

In between chews, he lets you ask about himself- his favorite bands, the states he’s never been but wants to travel to someday, the highlights of his golden years with his mom that he misses every day.

There’s a quiet lull, after your bowls are scraped clean and set aside. He helps you off the counter and tells you to pick out a movie; you load The Black Cauldron into the VCR and settle into the couch cushion.

Eddie puts an arm around you, lets you play with his hands for the bulk of the film, running your nails methodically across his palms.

By the last act of the movie, you can feel your high beginning to fade, taking your courage with it; when the credits roll, you’re ready to call it quits and sleep off the hangover in your own bed.

“You sure you’re okay to drive?” Eddie asks, following after you as you tug your sneakers back on in the hall.

“Yeah, Eddie, I’ll be good. Thanks for the weed,” you say, pulling your jacket tight around your frame. “And for the- for everything.”

The smile appears again; the one that cuts deep dimples into his cheeks as he watches you step onto his porch.

When he says your name, you turn, keys in hand- “Yeah?”

Leaning into the doorframe like he had earlier, he cants his head, streetlight a warm glow across his cheeks. “You wanna know where I got my nickname, you come back in a few days. Sleep on it tonight.” And then he closes the door.

___

So, technically, he told you to come back in a few days, and showing up less than 24 hours later has to hint at being some sort of desperate.

Which, fuck it, you kinda are, at this point. Frankly it’s a miracle you’ve lasted this long what with the whole being plagued with visions of Eddie Munson’s hands and lips and hair and that stupid fucking nickname every waking and dreaming hour you’ve spent apart.

While you can appreciate the honorable nature of Eddie asking you to make a clear-headed decision, you’re wishing for a hundred things to take the edge off as you change out of the PJ’s you’ve been moping in all day.

Black tights stretch over your calves as you think of the whiskey you mom keeps hidden in the downstairs cabinet; denim miniskirt smoothed over your hips as you long for a deep hit of weed; hands shakily plucking your black tanktop into place as the urge to be anything but sober gets swallowed down.

You make the ten minute drive to Forest Hills in silence (relative to the weird engine noises your hunk of metal car decides to make), wracking your brain for silver-tongued excuses but instead drawing blank after blank.

By the time you’re rolling to a stop in front of Eddie’s trailer, you still have no idea what you’re gonna say to him- only that something needs to be said. Max is at the Sinclair’s for the night, one less person to worry about witnessing you slamming your car door shut and walking right up to Eddie on his front steps.

He’s wearing a pair of overalls, grease-stained, shirtless underneath- the tail end of a larger ink piece peeking out against his ribs. There’s a lone bike tire on the ground, held steady by the spokes his boot rests on as he wrenches the middle hub, biceps rippling and flexing with each movement.

Certainly a sight that would have stopped you in your tracks, on any other day. But you’re determined to have it out with the returning wingbeat behind your navel, planting your Converse in the gravel just before the first step that Eddie’s sat on.

He doesn’t seem surprised to see you this time, instead giving you a lazy smile on a half-tilt, wiping the tire oil from his hands onto the front of his overalls.

“What brings a fair maiden such as yourself to this ugly neck of the woods?” Eddie leans the tire up against the steps and rises to greet you.

You’re gonna lose what little nerve you have left if he touches you so you act quick, speaking as you cross your arms- “I need to tell you a few things.”

That stops him up short, just a few feet away as he inclines his head, hair loose around his bare shoulders. “I’m nothin’ but ears.”

A wet, rattling breath catches in your chest. You give a cursory scan around to confirm that the rest of the trailer park citizens are indoors, soft lights from rows of windows luminous against the darkening twilight sky.

“I have a… a thing,” you start, unsure of where to begin, really wishing you’d come up with a polished script on the ride over instead of being forced to flounder through for the right dialogue. “It started last year. With the mall fire?”

When Eddie nods his understanding, you continue, in short starts and bursts, like you’re fighting with the words before they come out.

“Something… happened. To Robin, and Steve, and to- to me. It was really bad, for awhile, and then it got better, but I’m still…” your hands squeeze tight into the flesh of your upper arms, nails stinging. “I’m fucked up from it. And the only way I can talk about it is if I’m fucked up, too. S’why I can only hold a conversation when I’m drunk or flirt while I’m high, like there’s this bad thing inside of me that I can’t look at when I’m sober-”

There’s a frantic edge that’s slipped in to your voice and Eddie steps towards you, as if to soothe, but you’re not ready to give in yet so you take a step back, choking out the last few words- “I just- I wish I could tell you everything, but I can’t, not yet, and I’m sorry. I’m really sorry.”

From somewhere in the forest behind, a bright chorus of crickets swells as you fix your focus on the ground, as Eddie’s boots crunch forward on the gravel, toe-to-toe with your sneakers.

He moves carefully, as if worried that you’ll spook- lightly brushing his fingers across yours, drawing your awareness to the fact that your nails are dangerously close to drawing blood, a sigh as you release.

“Thank you for telling me.” Unlike your own voice, his is low and sure as his thumbs brush against the red half-moons in your arms. “You’re really brave, you know that?”

He doesn’t leave room for you to dispute this, instead tracing the underside of your jaw with his knuckle, forcing you to hold his gaze, those deep brown eyes soft with empathy as he says, “I don’t have any expectations of you, ‘kay? I’ll be all ears when you need me to be, but you don’t have to spill all your secrets every time you come around. You wanna just watch shitty cartoons and keep my couch warm, that’s fine by me. Nothin’ else needs to happen.”

And it’s his acknowledgement of your admission, his softhearted way of letting you know that nothing needs to happen, that makes you brave.

Brave enough to tilt your chin into the lift of his finger as you say, “I didn’t just come here to apologize.”

You watch his Adam’s apple bob against the taut vein in his neck as he swallows, hard.

“Yeah?”

When you nod, Eddie blows out a breath and turns on his heel, motioning you to follow him up the stairs.

Your eagerness is obvious as you scramble up the steps after him, heart starting to thrum in tandem with the flutters as he shuts his front door behind the both of you.

“Take your shoes off,” is all he says, in a low, strained voice, before turning into the kitchen.

Obedient, you drop to one knee and jerk apart your sneaker laces with trembling hands.

Now on nyloned feet, you step onto the linoleum tile of Eddie’s kitchen. He’s faced away from you at the sink, taut lines of his shoulders rising and falling as he washes his hands.

“You’re sober?” He asks, still at the sink, drying his hands on a patterned teatowel.

When you realize he can’t see your nod, you speak- “Yes. Yeah. As a judge.”

A soft exhale through his nose, amused, as he finally turns to face you. Eddie’s eyes do that hypnotizing dance- skipping from your chin to your eyes to your lips back up again- and you let him, feeling exposed to the point of nakedness with the intensity of his focus.

“I want to hear you say it.”

The sentence winds through the air, joins the wings in your stomach, sits low in your belly as you shift your weight from side to side, a gentle rock to ease your flayed-alive nerves.

You say it. “I want your mouth.”

Eddie takes a step closer, nearly toe-to-toe with you again. Over the familiar layer of bergamot and fresh hand soap he smells like the outdoors, and faintly of mechanic oil, hearty and wild.

“Where?” It’s a single word, but with so much weight- suggestive, a taunt, an offer.

You breathe him in, eyes fluttering closed, ‘cuz brave as you’ve been it’s still hard to say some things while looking at him. “Want your mouth… on me.”

He crowds into your space, one hand gliding smoothly to set against your waist, the other fitted against your neck, tapping a thumb to your lips.

You part them, passive and wanting, but he doesn’t press his finger to the pad of your tongue like you’d hoped. Instead, he lets his thumb stroke to the corner of your mouth to make room for his own.

“Where?” he asks again, this time into your mouth. You can feel the tip of his nose graze yours, pinpricks of his hair tickling your cheeks.

“Please,” is all you manage this time, awash with heat when you feel his smile form.

“S’okay, sweetheart. I’ll work you up to it.” It’s a touch condescending, skirting that fine line between tease and mean, the same tone of voice that has your thighs pressing together.

And then, he gives you what you asked for. His plush lips- the ones that you’ve been fantasizing about for what feels like eons- are pressing against yours.

It’s a kiss that starts chaste, tender, but soon devolves into a heady, fevered thing when you push your tongue past the seam of his lips. He melts into you, using the hand he has on your face to keep you steady as he sucks your bottom lip into his mouth, grazing his teeth into the plush of it before going back to twining his tongue with yours.

There’s an audible wet click as he pulls away, both of your chests heaving in the quiet that follows; Eddie rests his forehead against yours briefly to catch his breath, and then he’s tugging you down the hall and into his room.

It’s pleasantly messy and lived-in, posters and photographs taking up most of the walls, guitar cables snaking and criss-crossing atop his dresser. You take a seat on the bed, hands tightening into the flannel duvet while Eddie begins to undo the buttons of his overall straps.

Wholly fascinated, you watch as he pushes the thick material from his body and kicks it to the side, leaving him in just his guitar pick necklace and a simple pair of black boxers. Now on full display, you drink in the sight of the most skin you’ve ever seen of his- tattoos at his chest and arms dark against the rest of him, pale and gleaming softly in the yellow light of the bedside lamp.

You’re trying to figure out if the larger piece on his ribs is a dragon or some other mythological creature when he moves in to sit next to you, his kisses erasing all thoughts.

Eddie’s making these throaty little noises as you kiss; his hands track lines from your hips to your sides to your shoulders, your chest unconsciously pressing into his touch.

When his thumb catches on the outline of your beaded nipple through your shirt, he hisses lightly, drawing back to look at you again- “Is this okay?”

You nod, but he doesn’t seem satisfied with that, tsking as he swipes with his thumb again, watching closely as you react silently to the touch.

“Hard to tell when you’re enjoying yourself if you’re quiet as a churchmouse,” Eddie says, in a tone that’s reminiscent of training a pet. “You gonna let me hear you?”

Your teeth catch on your lower lip as he thumbs across your nipple again, shockwaves coursing into goosebumps as you choke out, “I’m not s-so good at that. Not without- fuck- weed..”

Eddie huffs a laugh, a little derisive but you figure he’s probably got the right, seeing as how you’re this worked up and he’s barely touched you.

“You’re plenty good at this sober, sweetheart. Want me to prove it?”

His hand falls from your breast, extricates one of yours from the covers, and slides it up the meat of his thigh- then to the front of his boxers.

The first noise you make for him is a small gasp, one that matches his own as you cup your palm over the thick jut of his hard cock.

“Told you,” he says, sounding strung-out, his hand still closed around your wrist, “You’re doin’ just fine at working me up.”

You wrap your fingers around the bulge as best you can with the fabric of his boxers separating skin from skin, gaining confidence to explore as his grip on your wrist loosens. The black ink at his ribs expands and shrinks with the bellows of his breath, jolting and stuttering with each stroke of your hand.

Just as he’s drawing in a breath to speak, tightening his hold around your wrist in warning, you still your movements. Delicately, slowly, you slide out of his grasp and take his wrist in your hand, placing his palm on your own thigh.

The whole “reciprocating pleasure with sound” is still a hard one to give in to; maybe you can compensate for your hesitancy by showing instead of telling. You guide his hand up, into your skirt, parting your thighs until his fingers find the wetness soaking through both your panties and tights.

“Fucking… jesus.” Eddie moves with the fluid surety that you lack, middle finger running up the seam of your clothed pussy, your hips jerking reflexively when he catches against your clit. “This all for me, princess?”

In answer, you lean to bury your face into the crook of Eddie’s neck. He lets you, taking the opportunity to hook your leg over his thigh, spreading you out as much as your fitted denim skirt will allow.

You pant into the column of his throat as he strokes you through the light layers, the fabrics grinding friction into your clit caught under his fingertip. He rests his chin on the crown of your head, cooing praises that have your stomach muscles tensing.

“That’s it, good girl, such a good girl for me.”

Your clit is throbbing now as he rubs you in small, quick circles, and you’re so close to falling over the edge that you have to pull his hand away.

Eddie picks up on your unspoken plea; he tugs the skirt down your hips then tosses it blindly over his shoulder, reaching for the edge of your tights. He slips them down your thighs, your calves, peeling them off you with reverence. When all that’s left is your best pair of satin panties, he maneuvers you up against the headboard and stretches himself flat on his stomach, nose pressing into your core.

That heat has come back, flashing through you with a vengeance as Eddie mouths at your pussy through the satin, sloppily but with purpose enough to have your cunt clenching around nothing.

You stay up on your elbows, watching that mane of dark hair bracketed by your thighs, but when Eddie pulls your underwear down and off your ankle your weight falls back against the mattress.

The flat of his tongue licks a wide stripe from your weeping hole up to spread the wetness around your clit. When he sucks the bundle of nerves into his mouth, your head presses back into the covers, hands grappling above you for something to anchor your grasp.

When Eddie flicks the point of his tongue against that bright spot of nerves your hands find a pillow to grip, and when he moans into your pussy the vibrations have you instinctively pulling the pillow against your face, teeth biting into the fluff, masking the whine that would have been loud in the otherwise quiet room.

You think you might be able to get away with this setup (what with Eddie seemingly focused on making you explode into a million little pieces) but there’s a sharp smack before the outer skin of your thigh is burning, white-hot from the kiss of his rings.

Eddie’s mouth leaves you only for the time it takes for him to rip the pillow from your grasp and scold, “Uh uh, none of that, c’mon,” and then he’s back at your clit, suckling with renewed vengeance.

There are little stars bursting at the edges of your vision, your hands shooting down to grip at Eddie’s hair when he pistons the point of his tongue against you again. Your hips are subtly bucking into his mouth, shaking thighs involuntarily closing around his ears. Normally you’d be concerned about Eddie’s air intake but going off the moans he’s burying in your pussy, you’d hazard a guess that he’s really into it.

As if in confirmation, he pulls off your clit with a wet pop, laving his tongue up the junction where thigh meets pelvis, voice sounding wrecked- “Doin’ so good, sweetheart. Fuck, you got me so hard. Gonna blow a load in my boxers like a teenager, y’taste so good. Gonna let me hear you? Hm? Wanna hear you.”

You’re dizzy with want as you prop yourself on your elbows again, mouth falling open as Eddie sinks two of his fingers up to the ringed knuckle inside your velvet walls.

His other hand comes to rest on the soft curve of your stomach, pinning you in place, before he looks up at you, black pupils nearly eclipsing the chocolate brown.

“What do you want?” he asks again, patiently, as if he doesn’t have two fingers nestled inside your cunt.

Your efforts to grind into him are stopped with his firm hold on your middle, and he tuts at you again- but instead of a reprimand, he seems to soften a bit.

“C’mon, angel,” Eddie says, with such tenderness that makes tears prick at the corner of your eyes. He presses his lips to the inside of your thigh before encouraging, “Lemme hear you say it, and I’ll make it so good for you. Promise.”

“Want you to make me come. Please.” Your voice is unsteady, but it’s audible enough.

Eddie rewards you by sinking his fingers further, to the hilt, heel of his palm catching against your clit. When you let out a warbling moan, he nods- “That’s it,”- before setting a steady rhythm for fucking his fingers up into you.

“Fuck, Eddie- fu-uck…” you’re trying, really trying to stay in the moment and not get caught up in the noises you’re making- for him.

When Eddie reattaches his mouth to your throbbing clit and angles his fingers to hit into that soft, spongy spot with each thrust, you feel waves of pleasure start to wash through you. There’s just time for a choked “Shit, Eddie, you’re gonna make me cum,” before you’re spasming around his fingers.

Somehow, you manage to stay on your elbows, bracing your body through the convulsive shocks, white-hot stars joining the wingbeat rhythm as Eddie takes you apart with his mouth and fingers.

He moans, long and low, fucking you through it and then some- your orgasm has been completely wrung out when you push at his forehead, whimpering at the overstimulation.

“No, baby, one more, please. Gimme one more,” Eddie lifts his head to plead with you, sweaty bangs glued to his forehead- and then he’s back between your legs.

It’s this moment that makes you retrospective. Sex with boys, in the past, has always been a quick means to an end: a few minutes of foreplay, tamping down your own pleasure for the sake of blowing off some steam.

But now, pleasure was being given to you in spades by Eddie Munson, and you wanted to give it back to him.

You come on his tongue and fingers, again, stomach tightening beneath his warm palm, and this time you really loose the sounds caught in your chest: a strangled mix of your bliss-soaked whines with his name, Eddie Eddie Eddie.

You feel the bed frame jolt below you both as Eddie’s hips thrust into the mattress in a frenzied tempo.

“Fuck me.” He pulls away, finally, panting into the side of your knee. He rests his head against your leg, lips tinged pink and shining wet, gazing at you with lust-blown eyes. “You are so fucking hot. Holy shit.”

Bashful as your peak wears off, you pull him forward so you don’t have to look at him when you whisper, “Yeah?”

“Yeah, princess,” he says, slumping against your chest and into your arms. “That’s going straight to my long-term spank bank. Number one. For sure.”

You slap playfully at his shoulder, and he rises on his elbows to kiss you- once on the lips, twice on the cheek- warm palms on the outside of your shoulders.

“Are you… d’you need any help?” you ask, reaching to tuck his hair behind his ears, feeling the crush of insecurity leech in. “I dunno if you even- I mean, did you…”

From all the physical activity, your breasts are half-spilled out of your bra, and Eddie bends to kiss at the tops of them, affectionately, shaking his head as he goes. “There is no world in which I would’ve lasted, just now. Very noble of you to assume, though.”

He grins at your giggle, then says- “I dunno about you, but I need some new underwear. Wanna borrow a pair of my boxers? Bet you’d look cute.”

________

Later, when you’re both cleaned up, dressed, and full from a pizza delivery, Eddie invites you outside for a smoke.

You sit with him on the porch couch, legs slung over his, a big flannel blanket shared over both your laps while he smokes with the hand that isn’t on your thigh.

There’s a crunching of wheels on gravel, and Max Mayfield’s bike lamp cuts through the dark.

“Hey, Heavy Metal,” she calls out, undoing her bike helmet and leaning her bike into its kickstand. “Are you done fixing up Lucas’s tires or do I have to keep hauling my ass all the way across town to see him?”

“I’ll have it done tomorrow, Red,” Eddie calls back, giving her a salute.

Halfway to her door, she remarks, “You two are gross, by the way,”

You cross your arms in the sweatshirt Eddie loaned you, slipping into irksome older sister mode easily. “So how’d it go with your boyfriend, tonight, Maxine?”

She flips you both off, but you catch the smile on her face before the front door bangs shut behind her.

Eddie chuckles, smoothing his palm up your thigh, then takes another drag. “You gotta come night smoke with me more often, angel. The streetlights suit you.”

“Gonna get me hooked on nicotine, too?” Your sock foot pokes him in the ribs and he tuts, snapping it up in his free hand and digging his thumb into the arch of your sole.

“Fuck no, your teeth are too pretty to ruin. Want you to come keep me company while I destroy my lungs.”

Another cloud of smoke lifts dreamily around Eddie’s face. His thumb is working wonders on the tense muscle of your foot as you tip your head to rest on the back of the couch. With the nearby streetlamp, his profile is cast in a warm glow; you do a dance of your own, eyes taking in the strong slope of his nose, tracking down to his lips, back up to the wild curls at his temple.

Eddie feels you staring, turns to fix you with a quit it look that you can’t help but laugh at- “What, so you’re the only one who’s allowed to stare?”

“That’s right,” he confirms, leaning forward to set his cig in an ashtray, bullying his way into your space, rings cold under your chin when he tilts your face towards his- “Gotta pay the piper for that obvious violation, sweetheart. Sorry. I don’t make the rules.”

This time, when the flutter within you kicks up, you have a place for it to go- melting softly into Eddie’s lips.

___________________

I wrote the last third of this while blasted please don’t judge too harshly lmao.

for more shy!Reader content: masterlist

#eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x shy! reader #eddie x reader #eddie munson smut #stranger things fic #eddie munson fic #robin buckley #steve harrington #mdni

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purplelegacymusic · 1 year ago

Text

In an alternate timeline: Dream Factory

by Purple Legacy Music

Foreword

Dream Factory is one of Prince’s best known unreleased projects, a fan-favorite that has earned itself the status of a timeless classic over the past decades. It has been heavily bootlegged, and often tried to be reconstructed by fans that aimed to replicate a certain sequence as close as possible to what has been leaked, and to what is known about them. It is also considered one of Prince’s greatest myths, with some questioning that it has ever been an actual conceived album, but rather a constantly evolving work-in-progress which acted as a playground to assemble the accumulated material without any defined direction. The existence of the project has been also denied by members of The Revolution, which once noted that too much intention is being interpreted into the known configurations. Prince’s sound engineer from that time, Susan Rogers, also described that the songs had been recorded independently from each other, without a bigger picture in mind to form an album. However, it is clear that the assembled configurations curate the material in a way that makes for a stylistically cohesive album (especially the June 1986 configuration), with most of the songs featuring major input by The Revolution. The actual status of Dream Factory at the moment it has been moved on from is still and will probably also remain unknown, as only Prince himself knew of his true intentions with the material. What is certain, is that it did not reach the stage of submission to Warner Bros., and was therefore not planned for release yet. Unlike Dream Factory, the two following unreleased albums from that time, Camille and Crystal Ball, were both submitted, with Camille even receiving a catalog number and being slated for release.

Though Dream Factory can most likely be only considered a work-in-progress, and not the basis for an actual album, it is clearly the foundation of what would eventually become Sign O’ The Times, at least in its latest iteration. The material that has been recorded was intended to feature the closest collaboration between Prince and The Revolution, with the band initially contributing even more than to the previous Parade album.

The making of

Prince fully embarked on his recording-spree in March 1986 when he started to produce in his new Galpin Blvd home studio, tracking “The Ballad Of Dorothy Parker”, “Power Fantastic”, “And How”, “A Place In Heaven”, “Movie Star”, “Witness 4 The Prosecution”, “And That Says What?” (recorded at the Washington Avenue Warehouse), “Crystal Ball”, “Starfish And Coffee”, “Big Tall Wall” and “Visions” from mid-March to mid-April. The recorded material was sequenced for the first time in late-April with 11 tracks:

Prince would continue to record more songs in May, which led to another compilation which has been sequenced to make up an expanded 2LP configuration, compiled in June featuring 19 tracks:

This 19-track configuration has been also entirely mastered, most likely for Prince to have something that he could always come back to listen to as if it was a finished record, to maybe inspire him to find a creative direction for the next album.

When Prince started to play one-off shows with a new and expanded Revolution line-up from April throughout July (with the last show on August 3), tensions between Prince and the original Revolution members started to grow, and as a result, when Prince continued to record new songs after completing the second configuration from his work-in-progress in June, more solo recordings where added that eventually replaced several collaborations with The Revolution, resulting in a third compilation of the material which has been completed in July containing 18 tracks. Overall, 10 were Prince solo-affairs, with 8 tracks eventually ending up to be released on Sign O’ The Times later on:

Two days later, Prince slightly altered the sequence, which resulted in the fourth and final configuration of the work-in-progress compilation:

Sonically, both configurations from July are the most diverse ones, with the darker sound that can be found on Sign O’ The Times being more present than on the two previous configurations. The April and June configurations have a more playful and brighter sound however, which makes the album feel more cohesive overall, giving its own style that distinguishes it from what would eventually become the Sign O’ The Times album. It is notable, that this constantly evolving work-in-progress went from a continuation and further expansion of the collaboration between Prince and The Revolution, to a transition to Prince’s return as a solo artist, also moving from a brighter and more joyful sound to a darker tonality that was further emphasized on with Sign O’ The Times.

After tensions between Prince and the original Revolution members peaked at the end of the Parade Tour in early-September, Prince broke up The Revolution a month later on October 7, and discarded most of the recorded material for the moment. He moved on to record for a new solo project in October, which became the infamous unreleased album Camille, compiled in early-November. Camille then eventually morphed into the 3LP crossover project titled Crystal Ball, which combined it with the leftover solo tracks from the Dream Factory work-in-progress. This triple album was then submitted to Warner Bros. and later paired down to become Sign O’ The Times.

The vision

Our alternate version of Dream Factory imagines the work-in-progress becoming a cohesive and fully conceived album, which is mostly based on the April and June compilations from 1986. It emphasizes on the material that features contributions from The Revolution to maintain the same characteristics, while trying to further develop a creative direction into it. Most tracks are directly sourced from the Sign O’ The Times Super Deluxe Edition, with a large part of the rest taken from 1998’s Crystal Ball collection. “Power Fantastic” is taken from The Hits/The B-Sides, while the intro from “Dream Factory” has been lifted from a bootleg. All songs have been carefully retouched to give the album a cohesive sound.

The idea behind our reimagined versions of Dream Factory, Crystal Ball, and Sign O’ The Times was to create versions of them that could have theoretically co-existed, creating an alternate timeline in which all projects from 1986 would have found their release next to each other, while also separating the material from that era into 3 albums with each featuring a different project: The Revolution, Camille, and Prince’s solo recordings.

The alternate timeline

After completing the last sequence of his work-in-progress with the working title Dream Factory in July 1986, Prince continued to record new material independently from it until embarking on the Parade Tour in August. With tensions between him and the original members of The Revolution growing, Prince cancelled his plans for a possible release of the Dream Factory project, right after returning from the Parade Tour in early September. By the time he had returned, tapes from the last iteration of Dream Factory were leaked and bootlegs of them widely circulating, which eventually drew the attention and interest of Warner Bros’ executives to the project. After directly reaching out to Prince to clarify the status of the album and receive further information, the label was shocked by his decision to discard the material as they considered it to be a potential commercial success, but even more so about the dawning breakup of The Revolution. Warner Bros. immediately went into negotiations and tried to convince him to submit and release the album despite his fallout with The Revolution, to make use of the broad publicity that an announcement of the band’s breakup and a last album together would have. While Prince remained reluctant to Warner’s proposal, the label continued to pursue a release and continued to negotiate for an agreement which would ensure that Prince’s next project could follow-up Dream Factory less than half-a-year later, alongside a substantial financial bonus. Prince was in the midst of one of his most productive times in which he constantly created, so the possibility of gaining the freedom to release his following project in close succession was the reason why he eventually agreed to submit an overworked version of the album. He took the opportunity to clear the vault and give the recordings a proper home, as chances were high that he would not come back to them for future projects.

At the end of September, Prince finished an almost entirely new version of Dream Factory, which replaced 12 tracks from the latest configuration that was sequenced in July with 6 tracks from previous configurations, and 5 new tracks that have not been included on any other sequence before (4 being outtakes from the initial sessions, and one being recorded after the work-in-progress sessions), making up a 18-track double LP:

Though he didn’t intend to release a double album and include all of the tracks on the final configuration, Prince pulled together as much material as possible, to then narrow the album down and find its core that he could further refine and develop. Though including now more tracks that feature contributions from The Revolution, and even entire band performances, many of those that featured lead vocals or were solo performances by either Wendy, Lisa, or both, have been replaced with Prince’s original vocal versions, (“Wonderful Day”, “Eggplant”, “A Place In Heaven”) or were entirely removed (“Visions”, “Nevaeh Ni Ecalp A”, “Colors”), which could be understood as a clear reaction to the band’s fallout. “Dream Factory” and “Sexual Suicide” where replaced with updated mixes, with the first of both also being an extended version compared to the one included on previous configurations. Prince played around with giving the album a mirroring structure, with both records repeating the format of 5 songs on the first side, 4 songs on the flip side, and a full-band instrumental appearing at the end of the first side from each LP. Additionally, Side A and C have a roughly similar running time, as well as Side B and D. The instrumentals were meant to replace the solo interludes “Visions” and “Colors” by Wendy and Lisa, while Prince removed most of his solo tracks that were included on the previous July configuration to save them for future projects, instead of including them on an album he was convinced to finish, rather than working on it because of his own artistic motivation.

Although the sequencing has been entirely finished with new segues, crossfades, overdubs, and more, the first configuration was then further worked on and edited down to a single LP:

The new single LP configuration removed 6 tracks: “Big Tall Wall”, “Eggplant”, “Everybody Want What They Don’t Got”, “A Place In Heaven”, “Love And Sex (1986 Song)”, and “Last Heart”. “And That Says What?” and “It Ain’t Over ‘Til The Fat Lady Sings” were edited to almost the same length and simply retitled “Interlude”, both being placed as the 4th track on each side to maintain a certain format within the album, as established on the previous configuration. The final 12-track configuration was then submitted to Warner Bros. and prepared for release, with the artwork featuring photos from Jeff Katz which were taken from the Parade photo sessions.

Prince broke up The Revolution on October 7, and informed the band that a last album which features recordings with their input is being prepared for release in November. While Brownmark and Dr. Fink were both invited to stay and continue to work with Prince, only Fink accepted and went on to play in Prince’s band until December 1990.

Dream Factory was publicly announced together with the breakup of Prince and The Revolution on October 10, and saw its release on November 5 in the US and a few days later across the rest of the world, all while Prince was already recording material for a new album that was to feature him in disguise as a new alter-ego named “Camille”. As part of the agreement between Warner Bros. and Prince, the album did not produce any commercially released singles. Instead, 4 promotional singles have been sent out to radio stations and DJ’s, with the airplay promotion being limited to the end of the year only. The release of Dream Factory itself was also limited, with the label agreeing on Prince’s condition to not manufacture future repressings of the album on any format without his consent.

Though it’s spare and strictly limited promotion, the album sold extremely fast and was certified multi-platinum by RIAA two months after its release, selling over 3,000,000 copies in the US. Warner Bros’ massive marketing campaign, which announced the bands breakup together with the release of a last album, proved just as effective as the label had predicted, and was the cornerstone for the album’s commercial success and its status as a fan-favorite.

______________________________________________________________

Listen to our alternate version of the unreleased Dream Factory now on Soundcloud:

Prince and The Revolution · Dream Factory | 1986 · rearranged and edited by Purple Legacy Music

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foenixed · 4 months ago

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Hey, my two interests (comic books and transgenderism) are aligned! I'd like to take this opportunity to inform people a little about why her creation of Black Lightning was so important and made her, despite the honestly relatively small number of comics she's written, so influential.

So, the year is 1977 and there aren't many black superheroes at the Big Two (Marvel and DC). Black Panther was the first, introduced in 1966, then Falcon (1969), Black Racer (1971), John Stewart/Green Lantern (1972), Luke Cage (1972) (who also took the title for first Black character to have their own series), Storm (1975) and Bumblebee (1976). Prexisting civilian character Bill Foster was made into Black Goliath (1975) and Mal Duncan into the Guardian (1976). Notably, the writer who turned Bill Foster into a superhero is also the star of this story, Jenny Blake Isabella.

For those keeping track, that's 5 characters at Marvel and 4 at DC. But DC had another problem, and that is that their few black characters are less notable than Marvel's. Black Racer had only really appeared as a side character in a miniseries, Bumblebee and Guardian were part of the failing Teen Titans series and didn't even make 10 appearances before its cancellation, and John Stewart had only appeared in 4 stories, AND he was stuck playing second fiddle because the main Green Lantern was Hal Jordan. They needed a black superhero. They needed a headliner.

Enter Black... Bomber? As has since been revealed, Black Lightning wasn't originally going to be Black Lightning. No. DC had a much worse idea in mind, which Isabella referred to as "Easily one of the most offensive concepts I had ever seen."

As she explained in the foreword to the 2015 Black Lightning TPB:

“During my exclusive arrangement with Marvel, I kept thinking about creating a new African-American hero. I wanted a character to whom our young readers could relate, a character who would inspire them as Superman and Captain America had inspired me. Unexpectedly, a DC editorial misstep gave me that opportunity. DC purchased two scripts for a planned new series called The Black Bomber. The hero, who would be their first "black" character to star in his own title, was a white racist Vietnam vet, who, as a result of taking part in chemical experiments to allow soldiers to blend in better with the jungle, turned into a black supehero in moments of stress. It gets worse. In each of the two well-intentioned scripts, the hero would, in his white racist persona, save a person he couldn't see clearly and, on finding out the person was black, exclaim something along the lines of- and this is a quote- "You mean I risked my life to save a jungle bunny?" And it gets worse. His superhero suit, such as it was, looked for all the world like a basketball uniform. Sweet Christmas!”

“DC wanted me to rewrite those two scripts and go solo on The Black Bomber with the third issue. I begged them to reconsider. It took some time, but I convinced them to consign the Bomber to limbo with the ultimate question: "Do you want your first black superhero to be a white bigot?" Common sense prevailed.”

And prevail it did. In only three weeks, Isabella invented a completely new character to replace the Black Bomber: the man called Jefferson Pierce, aka Black Lightning.

“I returned to my Cleveland roots for three weeks and came back to the DC offices with Jefferson Pierce. He was a teacher because, in a moment of clarity, I realized the one thing the vast majority of our readers had in common was that they all had gone/were going to school. He was based in an urban setting because I had become more political since starting my career and those were the stories I wanted to tell…and still do. He was an Olympic athlete because logic told me he had to have some sort of edge that was not the result of science or mutation.”

“The only thing I didn't have for my new character was a superhero name. Jeff and I found that name in the office of legendary editor Julius Schwartz. On Julie's wall, I spotted a Wonder Woman cover in which she was attempting to lasso a "black lightning bolt" while shouting, "Hera help me stop this Black Lightning before it splits this building in two!" Black Lightning. It sounded very cool to me, and Jeff liked it too. Neither one of us remembered it had also been the name of Western hero Johnny Thunder's horse.”

Not bad for a three week turnaround.

#reblogged

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daddymothxxx · 7 days ago

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INACTIVE & Archived; SEE BELOW

[ @burningfeathersx ]- Not Satan.

Biblical@OC; Lucifer

[ @disasterghaster ] - Spooky Binch

Trans-versal Urban Sci-fi/Fantasy!OC; Devang

Both are multi-verse (have ins to HH/HB verse), canon/oc friendly, and I am very flexible honestly. And I don't just say that. Both I have been writing for literal decades, Devang in particular is multi-decade, lol. If you're worried about OP-ness, they're both are a bit in their respective circles--but both have gotten their asses kicked with frequency in RP, lol.

They know each other and are cranky sorts. Both have a good heart somewhere under their circumstances and trauma. I do have a type of character I RP, sue me.

I do like continuity and letting them have complex RP histories so I tend to just fling them as is through verses, but a kind request would get you a verse-locked version if you like. Be it as is or verse-adjusted.

Hey! I'm Asche! 30+ yrs old. I'm agender and comfortable with she/he/they. I know I don't talk much, but that's a low social battery and not the lack of desire to enjoy your company. Promise.

[ FOREWORD ] [ CHARACTER INFO ] [ READMORE ]

[Other Blogs!]

[ Affiliated with @voxtekoverlord, @burningfeathersx, @radioiaci, @sugarswirlbitch ]

Non-canon Compliant HH/HB Valentino; 23 yrs. experience.

Non-Affiliated with Vivziepop; Non-supportive.

Open-Verse/Multi-verse; create in-verse compliant AUs or throw into as-is.

OC & Canon Friendly

Flexible Narrative Style; para/script/long/short/whatever

Open to all types of character relationships, even negative ones.

NSFW; Violent/Dark Themes/Graphic Language/Sexual Themes (Not focused on smut.)

Religiously Sensitive Material(?)

Things are multi-verse here so duplicates are known about and accepted. If you want a separate AU dedicated to your character, you gotta talk to me about it. ( ps, tags below are about established relationships and not duplicate exclusivity <3 )

You get what you get, activity wise. Bit of a preferential thing going on, no offense to anyone, I just have more nerves for people outside my comfort zone. I hold onto drafts so that I can crank out for other people. Just might take a minute due to those nerves.

Current character arc explanation: [ x ]

M!A/Notes: n/a

[EDIT 4/1/2024] I am no longer interested in plots/AUs where your character/x character are Deal Contracted to Valentino. Especially as a pre-established relationship. [More info.]

Please be sure to check out my readmore/rules!

IC NSFT/Vent Sideblog: @candymothxxx

Wall of Text: [ x ]

[ RELATIONSHIPS ]

Tags

ic - In Character - Val narrative

ooc - Out of Character - meeeeeee hi

rb - stuff i've reblogged from myself so if you don't like repetition block this tag <3

valen fucking tino - images of val/thematic posts

bailando solo - thematic music

flat faced prince - having to do with Vox (voxtekoverlord)

reina - having to do with Velvette (sugarswirlbitch)

respondí - answered asks

perla - having to do with Angel Dust (tangledfate)

dahlia - having to do with Angel Dust (a-hazbin-spider)

roja - having to do with Alastor (radioiaci)

espectro - having to do with Ghost (ghostlyrps)

picante - having to do with Gritt (the-smallest-star)

invitación - ask meme/games/etc.

corazón escondido - collectively the V's

timelock; vintage - 1980's/pre-canon era interactions

out of timelock - outside of timeline/verse specific conditions

#pinned

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moochilatv · 21 days ago

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Sarina presents: Race with no end

Sarina with her sweet voice ! it's a radio hit!

Sarina is a rising punk-pop sensation from Tokyo, Japan, blending the raw energy of early 2010s pop-punk with her own unique style. A bilingual artist born in Hawaii to a Lebanese mother and Japanese father, Sarina's international upbringing in Tokyo has deeply influenced her music, resonating with fans of Avril Lavigne, Olivia Rodrigo, and Paramore.

From a young age, Sarina was absorbed in a world of music and creativity, beginning with classical piano lessons at just two years old. Her journey soon expanded to include guitar and ukulele, instruments she continues to cherish for their versatility. With a profound respect for both the dark and light aspects of life, influenced by her artistically gifted parents, Sarina’s music explores themes of mental health and personal struggle, creating a sound that is both deeply relatable and emotionally powerful.

Sarina's debut single, "Identity," released under the Sony RED label, showcased her multi-instrumental talents, as she played drums, guitar, bass, and piano on the track. With Sony Red, she released five more singles, an EP titled Foreword, and six music videos, which she story-boarded and headed with her original concepts and detail-oriented symbolism, before she co-founded and launched the SyrenSong label in May of 2024. Filled with thought-provoking lyrics and catchy melodies, her songs have earned her coveted playlist spots on Ones to Watch’s “Now Watching” and Apple Music’s “New in Rock.”

In addition to her solo work, Sarina lent her voice to the main vocal trio for the video game company Square Enix's JRPG Triangle Strategy, collaborating with renowned composer Senju Akira. Now, with new singles on the horizon, produced in collaboration with Grammy-winning producer Erik Ron (I Prevail, Staind, Bush) and platinum record producer and Escape the Fate guitarist Kevin Thrasher (Panic! At The Disco, Blink-182, Avril Lavigne), Sarina is ready to take the Western music scene by storm.

New single - RACE WITH NO END:

Tokyo pop-rock artist Sarina is releasing her sonically uplifting and lyrically honest single, "Race with no end," alongside an animated music video on the same day. Produced by Kevin Thrasher (Panic! At The Disco, Blink-182, Avril Lavigne), “Race with no end” is an engagingly heartfelt single racing into all-too-relatable themes of discovering how to be true to yourself when the world seems to cast its stones of judgment.

“This song is a kind of reminder to us all that even in our darkest moments, when we wonder what the point of it all is, we can choose to have hope. We can choose to try. There’s a fire in all of us,” Sarina says.

Stream Race with no end:

youtube

#Sarina #Race with no end #Youtube

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mr-fairenheight · 2 months ago

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DSA Chapters 2/3 authors notes.

Spoilers for the indicated chapters, but no further. You can read these at the same time as the fic, if you so choose, and you can find the fic here:

https://archiveofourown.org/works/65019811/chapters/167177776

These two chapters are just two halves of one chatlog, so no real use to splitting up the notes. These are also the MOST IMPORTANT CHAPTERS IN THE WHOLE FIC. It's where the plot starts and we catch the first glimpses of our full main cast. I suppose I'll split these notes into discussion of each of them, with some other topic thrown in.

VILARD

I feel kinda guilty introducing vil and then immediately having this conversation where he's mostly on the sidelines, but that's just kinda who he is. He has two more direct conversations right after this so it's no great loss. His failure to take a side here should help illustrate his character flaws further. My biggest fear writing him is that I might accidently convey him as a much better person than he actually is. (although he does have his good qualities, which I'm trying to show off aswell.)

She by far has the most lines here i think. This is a big clue as to who she is. The shades of Aranea Serket are more than intentional. She is officially introduced in literally the next chapter so again, i wont say too much.

I fear we maybe don't get much of who she is here, she simply has too much plot to move foreword. That, however, is actually a VERY good description of her overall character so who knows maybe this is actually super demonstrative. Her solo conversation with IA at the end is important. Not gonna say why, just pay attention to these two. (also, if you didn't notice, the link she sends is actually clickable! check it out if you haven't!)

Admittedly, not much to say here. DT went through a huge rewrite very late in preproduction, so im kinda figuring him out as a write him. I changed him because he was initially too similar to vilard, and i fear that may still be true. Hopefully not.

She might be my favorite. Karkat but even more tsundere and with none of the social skills or confidence? sign me up. she does have a bit more going on than that, namely because she develops in a VERY different direction. all of these characters are very dysfunctional, as individuals and especially as a group. that is essentially the conceit of the fanfic. IA is just not as subtle about it.

oh man this fxcker. this dude. you might see him and think of equius and eridan, and he definetly does pull from them, but he actually has two other main points of inspiration. One of them is secret, but the other is actually Vast Errors Arcjec Voorat. A person who has lost most of their passion and interest for life is a VERY interesting starting point for a character, namley because you can get a lot of variety out of why, how and what they start to care about again. i may have said too much here but when his official intro rolls around there will be bigger fish to fry so, c'est la vie. i worry my portayl of him here strays a bit from the idea i have of him in my head, but ill just have to make up for it later i suppose.

Ok thats it. right now chapter 5 is out, with 6 in active development. ive been kinda slouching on these notes, hopefully ill have more time for tham soon. thanks for stopping by.

#ao3 writer #homestuck #fanfic

0 notes

electroniccollectionpeaceworld · 5 months ago

Video

youtube

基督教會歌曲《神的心意你們該明白》【詩歌MV】

🔥𝐏𝐮𝐛𝐥𝐢𝐜 𝐃𝐞𝐜𝐥𝐚𝐫𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 𝐨𝐟 𝐀𝐥𝐦𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭𝐲 𝐆𝐨𝐝 𝐭𝐡𝐫𝐨𝐮𝐠𝐡 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐟𝐢𝐫𝐬𝐭𝐛𝐨𝐫𝐧 𝐒𝐨𝐧 𝐢𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐌𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐞𝐧𝐧𝐢𝐚𝐥 𝐊𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐝𝐨𝐦: GOD HAS COME!🔥 📣THE MILLENNIAL KINGDOM OF GOD HAS OPENED ON EARTH📣 🍁THE APPEARANCE OF GOD IN PUBLIC🍁 🛎🛎🛎🛎🛎🛎 A Good News 🔥🔥🔥 "After the work of the Almighty God in the secret way in CHINA in the land of the red Dragon, now God has openly appeared to the PUBLIC through about 144, 000 thousand Firstborn Sons of God prophesied in the REVELATION in the bible. 📌📌📌 THE PURPOSE OF ALMIGHTY GOD'S INCARNATION IN A SECRET WAY IN CHINA IS TO AWAKE UP ALL 144,000 OF HIS FIRST-BORN CHILDREN WHO ARE PROPHECIES IN THE BIBLE REVELATION... 🔥THE FIRST-BORN CHILDREN WILL OPEN THE MILLENNIAL KINGDOM OF GOD ON EARTH TO END THE OLD WORLD! 🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥 ALMIGHTY GOD openly manifests to the PUBLIC PROPHECY fulfilled 🎷🎷🎷🎷🎷🎷🎷🎷 Find the NEW LIGHT☀️ Just click each link below👇👇 1️⃣📖FOREWORD https://m.facebook.com/story.php?story_fbid=667676908898695&id=100069691765918&mibextid=UyTHkb 2️⃣🍁📖CHAPTER 1 https://m.facebook.com/story.php?story_fbid=667677402231979&id=100069691765918&mibextid=UyTHkb 3️⃣🍁📖 TESTIMONY 1 https://m.facebook.com/story.php?story_fbid=667677798898606&id=100069691765918&mibextid=UyTHkb 4️⃣🍁📖CHAPTER 2 https://m.facebook.com/story.php?story_fbid=667678238898562&id=100069691765918&mibextid=UyTHkb 5️⃣🍁📖 TESTIMONY 2 https://m.facebook.com/story.php?story_fbid=667678675565185&id=100069691765918&mibextid=UyTHkb 6️⃣🍁📖CHAPTER 3 https://m.facebook.com/story.php?story_fbid=667685428897843&id=100069691765918&mibextid=UyTHkb 7️⃣🍁📖 TESTIMONY 3 https://m.facebook.com/story.php?story_fbid=667685832231136&id=100069691765918&mibextid=UyTHkb 8️⃣🍁📖CHAPTER 4 https://m.facebook.com/story.php?story_fbid=667686418897744&id=100069691765918&mibextid=UyTHkb 9️⃣🍁📖 TESTIMONY 4 https://m.facebook.com/story.php?story_fbid=667686698897716&id=100069691765918&mibextid=UyTHkb 🔟🍁📖 CHAPTER 5 https://m.facebook.com/story.php?story_fbid=667686972231022&id=100069691765918&mibextid=UyTHkb 1️⃣1️⃣🍁📖 TESTIMONY 5 https://m.facebook.com/story.php?story_fbid=667687292230990&id=100069691765918&mibextid=UyTHkb 1️⃣2️⃣🍁📖CHAPTER 6 https://www.facebook.com/share/p/9tdUBk7SmHAu2WCC/?mibextid=oFDknk 1️⃣3️⃣🍁📖TESTIMONY 6 https://www.facebook.com/share/p/MmqPL7wPu8hJcEeM/?mibextid=oFDknk 1️⃣4️⃣🍁📖CHAPTER 7 https://www.facebook.com/share/p/7B9w7HqcrjtoS4fi/?mibextid=oFDknk 1️⃣5️⃣🍁📖TESTIMONY 7 https://www.facebook.com/share/p/VSwd1xJG3HxmjVJS/?mibextid=oFDknk 1️⃣6️⃣🌍WAKE UP WHOLE WORLD🌍 https://m.facebook.com/story.php?story_fbid=667420212257698&id=100069691765918&mibextid=UyTHkb 👇👇👇 My brothers and sisters, please read the documents You are wise Virgin who was called by the Father to be the people of the kingdom🙏🏻🥰🌺 let's meet God the Father at the opening of the kingdom🙏🏻🥰🤗🌺🌼 When you finish reading siblings, you can also share what you understand. Please Follow👇👇 https://m.facebook.com/groups/912832603784383/?ref=share&mibextid=NSMWBT https://www.facebook.com/share/v/15fU3BLHjz/

❓问题、观念、情形...... . 神怎么看人的梦想？（别人的事例......） . ✅神的话说： . “梦想与现实往往是有冲突的，很多时候人认为自己的梦想很正当，岂不知梦想与现实根本就不是一回事，梦想只是你一厢情愿，只是你一时的兴趣，很多时候是人任性或者是空想出来的东西，跟现实是不相符的。人的梦想太多，往往会出现什么错误？就会忽略自己眼前、当下该作的工作，忽略现实，把现时自己该尽的本分、该作好的工作、该尽到的义务与责任推到一边，不当回事，然后放纵自己的梦想，想干什么就干什么，想怎样做就怎样做。这样，人不但不能真实地尽好自己的本分，更重要的是耽误神家工作，搅扰神家工作。有很多人不明白真理，也不追求真理，他们把尽本分当成什么？当成是一种工作、一种爱好、一种兴趣的投入，不把它当成神交给的一种任务、使命与自己该尽的责任，更不追求在尽本分的过程当中明白真理，明白神的心意。所以，在尽本分过程当中，有些人吃点苦就不愿意了，就想逃避，碰到一些难处、受到一些挫折的时候，就打退堂鼓，又该逃避了。”---（摘自《揭示敌基督·只让人顺服他，而不是顺服真理、顺服神（一）》） https://www.facebook.com/share/v/14grdmnVTG/ https://www.facebook.com/share/p/1GU8PqcRNP/

Pero a medianoche se oyó un clamor: “¡Aquí está el novio! Salid a recibirlo”’ (Mateo 25:6). ‘Pero de aquel día y hora nadie sabe, ni siquiera los ángeles del cielo, ni el Hijo, sino solo el Padre’ (Mateo 24:36). Y está la profecía en el Apocalipsis: ‘He aquí, vengo como ladrón’ (Apocalipsis 16:15). En las profecías donde se dice ‘como ladrón’, ‘a medianoche se oyó un clamor’ y ‘nadie sabe’, hablaba de volver en secreto. El Señor viene de dos maneras diferentes en los últimos días. Se encarna en secreto como el Hijo del hombre, y también llega públicamente sobre una nube. Es decir, primero viene hecho carne en secreto, para expresar la verdad y juzgar y purificar a la humanidad, y para formar un grupo de vencedores antes de los desastres. Una vez que Dios en la carne finaliza Su obra de salvar a la humanidad en secreto, sobrevendrán los desastres, y Él recompensará a los buenos y castigará a los malvados. Recién entonces, Dios aparecerá públicamente sobre una nube y se revelará ante todas las naciones y los pueblos. Así es como se cumplirán completamente esas profecías que dicen que el Señor vendrá públicamente. Todos los que acepten la obra del juicio de Dios Todopoderoso, y cuyo carácter corrupto se purifique, recibirán la protección de Dios y se salvarán de los desastres. Entrarán en el reino de Dios. Pero los que rechacen la obra de Dios Todopoderoso de los últimos días, y hagan todo lo posible para oponerse a ella y condenarla, serán castigados en los desastres y llorarán y rechinarán los dientes. Eso cumplirá esta profecía en el Apocalipsis: ‘He aquí, viene con las nubes y todo ojo le verá, aun los que le traspasaron; y todas las tribus de la tierra harán lamentación por Él de “Testimonios vivenciales ante el tribunal de juicio de Cristo” https://www.facebook.com/share/p/1DPuqn1eko/ https://www.facebook.com/share/p/16FMfj5NNm/

🥹😢Sabi ng Makapangyarihang Diyos,📖🕊️ 📖🌱"Maraming taong nais Akong mahalin nang tapat, ngunit dahil hindi nila pag-aari ang kanilang puso, wala silang kontrol sa kanilang sarili; maraming taong totoong nagmamahal sa Akin habang nararanasan nila ang mga pagsubok na bigay Ko, subalit wala silang kakayahang unawain na talagang umiiral Ako, at minamahal lamang Ako sa kahungkagan, at hindi dahil sa Aking aktwal na pag-iral; maraming taong nag-aalay ng kanilang puso sa Aking harapan at pagkatapos ay hindi nila pinapansin ang kanilang puso, at sa gayon ay inaagaw ni Satanas ang kanilang puso tuwing may pagkakataon ito, at pagkatapos ay tinatalikuran nila Ako; maraming tao ang tunay na nagmamahal sa Akin kapag ibinibigay Ko ang Aking mga salita, subalit hindi itinatangi ang Aking mga salita sa kanilang espiritu, sa halip ay kaswal nilang ginagamit ang mga ito na parang pag-aari ng publiko at inihahagis ang mga ito pabalik sa pinanggalingan ng mga ito kung kailan nila gusto. Hinahanap Ako ng tao sa gitna ng pasakit, at bumabaling siya sa Akin sa mga oras ng pagsubok. Sa mga panahon ng kapayapaan ay nasisiyahan siya sa Akin, kapag nasa panganib ay ikinakaila niya Ako, kapag abala ay kinalilimutan niya Ako, at kapag hindi siya abala ay gumagawa siya nang hindi nag-iisip para sa Akin—subalit walang sinuman kailanman na nagmahal sa Akin habambuhay nila. Nais Ko sanang maging taimtim ang tao sa Aking harapan: Hindi Ko hinihiling na bigyan niya Ako ng anuman, kundi na seryosohin lamang Ako ng lahat ng tao, na, sa halip na bolahin Ako, tinutulutan nila Akong ibalik ang katapatan ng tao. Laganap sa lahat ng tao ang Aking kaliwanagan, pagpapalinaw, at halaga ng Aking mga pagsisikap, subalit laganap din sa lahat ng tao ang tunay na katotohanan ng bawat kilos ng tao, tulad ng kanilang panlilinlang sa Akin. Para bang ang mga sangkap ng panlilinlang ng tao ay nasa kanya na mula pa sa sinapupunan, na parang taglay na niya ang mga natatanging kasanayan sa pandaraya mula nang isilang. Bukod pa riyan, hindi niya kailanman ibinunyag ang plano; walang sinumang nakaaninag sa ugat ng mga kasanayang ito sa pandaraya. Dahil dito, nabubuhay ang tao sa gitna ng panlilinlang nang hindi ito namamalayan, at parang pinatatawad niya ang kanyang sarili, parang ito ang mga plano ng Diyos sa halip na kanyang sadyang panlilinlang sa Akin. Hindi ba ito mismo ang pinagmulan ng panlilinlang ng tao sa Akin? Hindi ba ito ang kanyang tusong pakana? Hindi Ako nalito kailanman ng mga pambobola at panlilinlang ng tao, sapagkat matagal Ko nang napagtanto ang kanyang diwa. Sino ang nakakaalam kung gaano karumi ang nasa kanyang dugo, at kung gaano karami ang kamandag ni Satanas na nasa utak ng kanyang buto? Lalo iyong nakakasanayan ng tao sa bawat araw na lumilipas, kaya hindi na niya nadarama ang pinsalang dulot ni Satanas, at sa gayon ay wala siyang interes na alamin ang “sining ng malusog na pamumuhay.” —Ang Salita, Vol. I. Ang Pagpapakita at Gawain ng Diyos. Mga Salita ng Diyos sa Buong Sansinukob, Kabanata 21 mula sa Mahahalagang Salita Mula sa Makapangyarihang Diyos, ang Cristo ng mga Huling Araw https://www.facebook.com/share/v/18AGXqGkKe/

Dieu Tout-Puissant dit : Une fois que la vérité sera devenue vie en toi, lorsque tu observeras quelqu’un qui blasphème contre Dieu, qui ne craint pas Dieu, qui est négligent dans l’accomplissement de son devoir ou qui interrompt et perturbe le travail de l’Église, tu réagiras selon les vérités-principes et tu seras capable d’identifier et d’exposer cette personne, si nécessaire. Si la vérité n’est pas devenue ta vie et que tu vis encore dans ton tempérament satanique, alors quand tu découvriras des gens malfaisants et des démons qui provoquent des interruptions et des perturbations dans le travail de l’Église, tu fermeras les yeux et tu feras la sourde oreille ; tu les ignoreras sans que ta conscience te le reproche. Tu iras jusqu’à penser que quiconque provoque des perturbations dans le travail de l’Église n’a rien à voir avec toi. Peu importe à quel point le travail de l’Église et les intérêts de la maison de Dieu en souffrent, tu t’en moques, tu n’interviens pas et tu ne te sens pas coupable, ce qui fait de toi quelqu’un qui n’a ni conscience ni raison, un incrédule, un exécutant. Tu manges ce qui est de Dieu, tu bois ce qui est de Dieu et tu jouis de tout ce qui vient de Dieu, mais tout préjudice aux intérêts de la maison de Dieu te semble être sans lien avec toi, ce qui fait de toi un traître qui mord la main qui te nourrit. Si tu ne protèges pas les intérêts de la maison de Dieu, es-tu même humain ? C’est un démon qui s’est insinué dans l’Église. Tu feins de croire en Dieu, tu fais semblant d’être un élu et tu veux profiter de la maison de Dieu. Tu ne vis pas la vie d’un être humain, tu es davantage un démon qu’une personne et tu fais clairement partie des incrédules. Si tu es quelqu’un qui croit vraiment en Dieu, alors, même si tu n’as pas encore obtenu la vérité et la vie, au moins tu parleras et agiras du côté de Dieu ; à tout le moins, tu ne resteras pas les bras croisés lorsque tu verras que les intérêts de la maison de Dieu sont compromis. Lorsque tu auras envie de fermer les yeux, tu te sentiras coupable, tu seras mal à l’aise et tu te diras : « Je ne peux pas rester assis ici à ne rien faire, je dois me lever et dire quelque chose, je dois prendre mes responsabilités, je dois exposer ce mauvais comportement, je dois y mettre fin, afin que les intérêts de la maison de Dieu ne soient pas lésés et que la vie de l’Église ne soit pas perturbée. » Si la vérité est devenue ta vie, alors non seulement tu auras ce courage et cette résolution et tu seras capable de comprendre entièrement la question, mais tu assumeras également la responsabilité que tu dois assumer vis-à-vis de l’œuvre de Dieu et des intérêts de Sa maison, et ton devoir sera ainsi accompli. Extrait de « La Parole apparaît dans la chair, volume 3 ,dans la nouvelle Sainte Bible de l'ère du Règne» https://www.facebook.com/share/v/17tEEXF3Jn/ https://www.facebook.com/share/v/18WUJAQ9wG/

Tuhan Yang Mahakuasa berfirman: Ketika Yesus datang ke dalam dunia manusia, Dia memulai Zaman Kasih Karunia dan mengakhiri Zaman Hukum Taurat. Selama akhir zaman, Tuhan sekali lagi menjadi daging, dan dengan inkarnasi ini Dia mengakhiri Zaman Kasih Karunia dan memulai Zaman Kerajaan. Semua orang yang dapat menerima inkarnasi Tuhan yang kedua akan dibawa ke dalam Zaman Kerajaan, dan selanjutnya akan jadi bisa menerima bimbingan Tuhan secara pribadi. Meskipun Yesus melakukan banyak pekerjaan di antara manusia, Dia hanya menyelesaikan penebusan seluruh umat manusia dan menjadi korban penghapus dosa manusia; Dia tidak membebaskan manusia dari wataknya yang rusak. Menyelamatkan manusia sepenuhnya dari pengaruh Iblis tidak hanya membuat Yesus harus menjadi korban penghapus dosa dan menanggung dosa manusia, tetapi juga membuat Tuhan harus melakukan pekerjaan yang jauh lebih besar untuk membebaskan manusia sepenuhnya dari wataknya yang telah dirusak oleh Iblis. Jadi, sekarang setelah manusia diampuni dari dosa-dosanya, Tuhan telah datang kembali menjadi daging untuk membawa manusia memasuki zaman yang baru, dan memulai pekerjaan hajaran dan penghakiman. Pekerjaan ini telah membawa manusia ke dalam alam yang lebih tinggi. Semua orang yang tunduk di bawah kekuasaan-Nya akan menikmati kebenaran yang lebih tinggi dan menerima berkat yang lebih besar. Mereka akan benar-benar hidup dalam terang, dan mereka akan mendapatkan jalan, kebenaran, dan hidup. —Firman, Vol. 1, Penampakan dan Pekerjaan Tuhan, “Kata Pengantar” https://www.facebook.com/share/r/15WNSZMLnN/

全能神經典話語《信神怎樣進入真理實際的話語》選段413-414 （七）如何達到合格盡本分的話語 413　現在要求你們做到的并非是額外的要求，而都是人的本分，是所有作為人的該做到的。若你們連你們的本分都盡不到或盡不好，那不是自找苦吃嗎？不是找死嗎？還求什麽後路與前途呢？神的工作是為了人類，人的配合是為了神的經營，神將他該作的都作了之後就需人全力以赴地去實行了，需要人去配合了，人都應在神的工作之中盡上自己的全力，獻上自己的忠心，不應觀念重重、坐以待斃。神能為人獻身，人為什麽不能為神盡忠呢？神對人一心一意，為什麽人不能有一點點配合呢？神為了人類作工，為什麽人不能為了神的經營而盡點人的本分呢？工作都作到如此地步了而你們還視而不行、聽而不動，這樣的人不都是沉淪的對象嗎？神為了人類已獻出了全部，為什麽人到了今天還不能老老實實地盡點人的本分呢？對神來説工作是第一，他的經營工作最重要，對人來説實行神的話、滿足神的要求是第一，這些你們都應明白。

——《話・卷一　神的顯現與作工・神的作工與人的實行》

414　人盡本分其實就是將人原有的即人本能及的都做到，那人就盡到自己的本分了，至于人在事奉中的弊病，那是在逐步的經歷中、在經歷審判的過程中逐漸减少的，并不攔阻也不影響人的本分。若有人害怕在事奉中存有弊病而停止事奉或後退讓步，那這樣的人是最懦弱的人了。人在事奉中若不能將人該表達的表達出來，不能做到人本能所能及的，而是糊弄、應付，那人就失去了一個受造之物該有的功用，這樣的人就是所謂的「庸才」，是無用的廢物，這樣的人還怎麽能稱之為堂堂的受造之物呢？不是金玉其外敗絮其中的腐朽之物嗎？若有人説他是神自己，但他并不能發表神性的所是，不能作神自己的工作，不能代表神，那這人無疑不是神，因他并没有神的本質，神本能作到的在他身上并不存在。而人若失去了人本能做到的那他就不能稱為「人」，也不配站在一個受造之物的位置上，不配到神的面前來事奉神，更不配得到神的恩典，神的看顧、保守與成全。許多人失去了神的信任之後便没有了神的恩典，他們不但不恨惡自己的惡行而且��大肆宣傳神的道并不正確，更有悖逆的竟否認神的存在，這樣的人，這樣的悖逆，怎麽能有資格享受神的恩典呢？人没能盡到人的本分已經是相當悖逆神了，已經是虧欠神很多了，而人却反過來喧駡神的不對，這樣的人還怎麽能有資格被成全呢？這不就是被淘汰受懲罰的前兆嗎？人在神的面前不盡自己的本分已是罪惡滔天、死有餘辜了，而人却厚着臉皮來與神講理，與神較量，這樣的人有什麽成全價值呢？人不能盡到自己的本分理應為此感到内疚、感到虧欠，應恨惡自己的軟弱無能、恨惡自己的悖逆敗壞，更應為神肝腦塗地，這才是一個真實愛神的受造之物，這樣的人才有資格享受神的祝福、應許，有資格接受神的成全。在你們中間的大部分人又是如何呢？你們又是如何對待在你們中間生活的神呢？你們又是如何在他面前盡你們的本分呢？做到仁至義盡、肝腦塗地了嗎？你們的奉獻怎麽樣？你們從我所得的還少嗎？你們會分辨嗎？你們對我的忠心如何？對我事奉得又如何？而我賜給你們的、為你們所作的又如何呢？你們都作過衡量嗎？你們都曾用你們僅有的一點良心衡量、比較過嗎？你們的言行能對得起誰呢？難道就你們這一點點奉獻就能對得起我所賜給你們的全部嗎？我對你們一心一意没有絲毫選擇，而你們對我却是心懷鬼胎、三心二意，這就是你們的本分，是你們僅有的一點功能，不是這樣嗎？難道你們不知道你們根本没盡到一個受造之物的本分嗎？這樣你們怎麽能稱為受造之物呢？你們自己都發表什麽、活出什麽你們自己不清楚嗎？你們不能盡到自己的本分還想求得神的寬容與神豐富的恩典，那些恩典不是為你們這些分文不值的小人預備的，乃是為那些没有所求、甘心獻身的人而預備的。你們這樣的人、這樣的庸才根本不配享受天上的恩典，只有苦難的日月與那不盡的懲罰與你們相伴！你們若不能為我盡忠，那你們的命運就是受苦，不能對我的話與我的作工負責，那你們的結局就是懲罰，什麽恩典、祝福、國度的美好生活與你們無關無份，這是你們應得的下場，是自食其果！

——《話・卷一　神的顯現與作工・道成肉身的神的職分與人的本分的區别》 https://tr.kingdomsalvation.org/readings-entering-into-the-reality-of-truth-413-414.html https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=hwac9RyZs58

𝘎𝘰𝘥’𝘴 𝘚𝘩𝘦𝘦𝘱 𝘓𝘪𝘴𝘵𝘦𝘯 𝘵𝘰 𝘎𝘰𝘥’𝘴 𝘝𝘰𝘪𝘤𝘦 𝘵𝘰 𝘞𝘦𝘭𝘤𝘰𝘮𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘓𝘰𝘳𝘥’𝘴 𝘙𝘦𝘵𝘶𝘳𝘯 The Lord said, “ᵃⁿᵈ ᵒᵗʰᵉʳ ˢʰᵉᵉᵖ ⁱ ʰᵃᵛᵉ, ʷʰⁱᶜʰ ᵃʳᵉ ⁿᵒᵗ ᵒᶠ ᵗʰⁱˢ ᶠᵒˡᵈ: ᵗʰᵉᵐ ᵃˡˢᵒ ⁱ ᵐᵘˢᵗ ᵇʳⁱⁿᵍ, ᵃⁿᵈ ᵗʰᵉʸ ˢʰᵃˡˡ ʰᵉᵃʳ ᵐʸ ᵛᵒⁱᶜᵉ; ᵃⁿᵈ ᵗʰᵉʳᵉ ˢʰᵃˡˡ ᵇᵉ ᵒⁿᵉ ᶠᵒˡᵈ, ᵃⁿᵈ ᵒⁿᵉ ˢʰᵉᵖʰᵉʳᵈ” (John 10:16). Jesus Christ’s words clearly tell us that God’s sheep are scattered in different folds, that is, believers are in the churches of every denomination; in the last days, the Lord Jesus Christ will come back and speak words to call His sheep back to God’s house. We can also understand that although people in various denominations all call the Lord Jesus’ name in their mouths, not all of them are God’s sheep. Some only claim to believe in God but act like unbelievers; some detest the truth, eat of the loaves to be filled, steal the offerings of God, engage in sexual misconduct, and even commit theft. They are not God’s sheep. Only those who truly believe in God, have a good humanity, and love the truth are God’s sheep. God’s sheep hear God’s voice. When they hear some people testify that the Lord Jesus Christ has come back, expressed the truth, and started new work, they will seek and investigate it with an open heart and focus on listening to God’s voice. Once they recognize God’s voice from the returned Lord’s words, they will come out from their denominations, follow God’s footsteps, and return before God. These are people who God will choose and bring into God’s house in the last days. However, those who don’t truly believe in God don’t focus on listening to God’s voice and even when they hear the returned Lord’s words, they cannot recognize God’s voice, but even judge, resist, and condemn the returned Lord’s work. They are not God’s sheep and will be abandoned and eliminated by God. Therefore, in the last days, God will speak words to reveal people, sort all according to their kind, and ultimately lead those who truly believe in God and love the truth from all religions and denominations to return before Him. This is the fulfillment of the Lord Jesus’ words, “ᵇᵉʰᵒˡᵈ, ⁱ ˢᵗᵃⁿᵈ ᵃᵗ ᵗʰᵉ ᵈᵒᵒʳ, ᵃⁿᵈ ᵏⁿᵒᶜᵏ: ⁱᶠ ᵃⁿʸ ᵐᵃⁿ ʰᵉᵃʳ ᵐʸ ᵛᵒⁱᶜᵉ, ᵃⁿᵈ ᵒᵖᵉⁿ ᵗʰᵉ ᵈᵒᵒʳ, ⁱ ʷⁱˡˡ ᶜᵒᵐᵉ ⁱⁿ ᵗᵒ ʰⁱᵐ, ᵃⁿᵈ ʷⁱˡˡ ˢᵘᵖ ʷⁱᵗʰ ʰⁱᵐ, ᵃⁿᵈ ʰᵉ ʷⁱᵗʰ ᵐᵉ” (Revelation 3:20). “ᵐʸ ˢʰᵉᵉᵖ ʰᵉᵃʳ ᵐʸ ᵛᵒⁱᶜᵉ, ᵃⁿᵈ ⁱ ᵏⁿᵒʷ ᵗʰᵉᵐ, ᵃⁿᵈ ᵗʰᵉʸ ᶠᵒˡˡᵒʷ ᵐᵉ” (John 10:27). 𝐌𝐘 𝐒𝐇𝐄𝐄𝐏 𝐇𝐄𝐀𝐑 𝐌𝐘 𝐕𝐎𝐈𝐂𝐄, 𝐀𝐍𝐃 𝐈 𝐊𝐍𝐎𝐖 𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐌, 𝐀𝐍𝐃 𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐘 𝐅𝐎𝐋𝐋𝐎𝐖 𝐌𝐄” (𝐉𝐎𝐇𝐍 10:27). Just as God’s words say, “𝗪𝗵𝗲𝗿𝗲𝘃𝗲𝗿 𝗚𝗼𝗱 𝗮𝗽𝗽𝗲𝗮𝗿𝘀, 𝘁𝗵𝗲𝗿𝗲 𝘁𝗵𝗲 𝘁𝗿𝘂𝘁𝗵 𝗶𝘀 𝗲𝘅𝗽𝗿𝗲𝘀𝘀𝗲𝗱, 𝗮𝗻𝗱 𝘁𝗵𝗲𝗿𝗲 𝘁𝗵𝗲 𝘃𝗼𝗶𝗰𝗲 𝗼𝗳 𝗚𝗼𝗱 𝘄𝗶𝗹𝗹 𝗯𝗲. 𝗢𝗻𝗹𝘆 𝘁𝗵𝗼𝘀𝗲 𝘄𝗵𝗼 𝗰𝗮𝗻 𝗮𝗰𝗰𝗲𝗽𝘁 𝘁𝗵𝗲 𝘁𝗿𝘂𝘁𝗵 𝘄𝗶𝗹𝗹 𝗯𝗲 𝗮𝗯𝗹�� 𝘁𝗼 𝗵𝗲𝗮𝗿 𝘁𝗵𝗲 𝘃𝗼𝗶𝗰𝗲 𝗼𝗳 𝗚𝗼𝗱, 𝗮𝗻𝗱 𝗼𝗻𝗹𝘆 𝘀𝘂𝗰𝗵 𝗽𝗲𝗼𝗽𝗹𝗲 𝗮𝗿𝗲 𝗾𝘂𝗮𝗹𝗶𝗳𝗶𝗲𝗱 𝘁𝗼 𝘄𝗶𝘁𝗻𝗲𝘀𝘀 𝘁𝗵𝗲 𝗮𝗽𝗽𝗲𝗮𝗿𝗮𝗻𝗰𝗲 𝗼𝗳 𝗚𝗼𝗱.” Apparently, whether we are the sheep that God will call before Him depends on whether we can hear God’s voice and how we treat the Lord’s return. Through this, can you measure whether you are God’s sheep? The following articles are for you. They provide more about the Lord Jesus’ return, helping you hear God’s voice soon, and welcome the Lord’s return, so that you will be raptured before the Lord and feast with Him. 𝘐𝘧 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘸𝘢𝘯𝘵 𝘵𝘰 𝘭𝘦𝘢𝘳𝘯 𝘮𝘰𝘳𝘦, 𝘱𝘭𝘦𝘢𝘴𝘦 𝘤𝘭𝘪𝘤𝘬 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘭𝘪𝘯𝘬. 𝘓𝘦𝘵 𝘶𝘴 𝘴𝘵𝘶𝘥𝘺 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘤𝘰𝘮𝘮𝘶𝘯𝘪𝘤𝘢𝘵𝘦 𝘵𝘰𝘨𝘦𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘳! 𝘋𝘰𝘯'𝘵 𝘣𝘦 𝘭𝘢𝘵𝘦 𝘢𝘴 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘨𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘵 𝘵𝘳𝘪𝘣𝘶𝘭𝘢𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯 𝘩𝘢𝘴 𝘢𝘭𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘺 𝘣𝘦𝘨𝘶𝘯 - 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘪𝘴 𝘎𝘖𝘋'𝘚 𝘍𝘐𝘕𝘈𝘓 𝘊𝘈𝘓𝘓 https://m.me/j/AbZBWXZnB509eg-X/ https://www.facebook.com/share/v/14sQGWqgRe/

🌍📖✨✨ Dieu tout puissant dit ✍️ (Quand on accomplit un devoir dans la maison de Dieu, c’est pour gagner la vérité et faire changer un tempérament corrompu. Trouver un travail dans le monde, c’est vivre selon la chair.) Presque, mais il reste une chose que vous n’avez pas mentionnée : accomplir un devoir dans la maison de Dieu, c’est vivre selon la vérité. Quel est le sens de vivre selon la vérité ? Pour les gens, cela veut dire que leur tempérament peut changer, et qu’à la fin, ils pourront être sauvés. Pour Dieu, cela veut dire qu’Il peut te gagner, en tant qu’être créé, et reconnaître que tu es Sa création. Mais alors, selon quoi les gens qui trouvent un emploi dans le monde vivent-ils ? (Sur les philosophies de Satan.) Les philosophies de Satan. Pris dans leur ensemble, cela signifie qu’ils vivent selon le tempérament corrompu de Satan. Que tu cherches la gloire, le profit ou un statut, la richesse, ou seulement à avancer jour après jour et à survivre, c’est la même chose. Tu vis selon un tempérament corrompu. Quand tu trouves un travail dans le monde, tu dois te creuser la cervelle pour essayer de gagner de l’argent. Pour gravir les échelons de la gloire, du profit et du statut, tu dois entièrement dépendre de choses telles que la compétition, la combativité, la lutte, la cruauté, la malveillance, et le meurtre. C’est le seul moyen de rester debout. Pour accomplir un devoir dans la maison de Dieu, tu dois vivre selon Ses paroles et comprendre la vérité. Les choses négatives de Satan sont non seulement inutiles, mais tu dois aussi t’en débarrasser. Aucune chose satanique n’est défendable. Si une personne vit selon des choses sataniques, elle doit être jugée et châtiée. Si une personne vit selon des choses sataniques et se montre déterminée à ne pas se repentir, elle doit être éliminée et abandonnée. C’est la plus grande différence entre l’accomplissement d’un devoir dans la maison de Dieu et trouver un travail dans le monde. https://www.facebook.com/share/p/1XSBCRGPMR/

🌟🌳💖👑💁FIRMAN TUHAN BERKATA:👇👇👇 🌟🌳💖👑💁📚"Apa gunanya orang mempunyai bergelimang harta dunia. Tapi kehilangan HIDUP. Ini bahwa TUHAN tidak mendukung keidupan di dalam diri orang semacam itu. Karena di dalam keidupan orang semacam itu hanya mencintai dirinya sendiri. Dan mencintai dunia yang fana. Tidak mencari KEBENARAN tidak mau berbalik kepada TUHAN, orang-orang semacam itu, adalah kaki tangan Iblis. Ketika TUHAN berbicara kepada mereka, mereka mengabaikan FIRMAN TUHAN. Seolah-olah FIRMAN ini tidak penting bagi kehidupan mereka. Ini di karenakan hati mereka di butakan oleh iblis. KU-beritahu kamu, para pemimpin dunia, Tidak bisa membawa mu masuk ke dalam KERAJAAN SURGA. Selain kerajaan duniawi. Ini karena mereka tidak dapat melihat KERAJAAN SURGA. Mereka menganggap setelah kematian baru mereka melihat KERAJAAN SURGA, Yang tersembunyi di lubuk hati mereka. Karena sama seperti SURGA tidak satupun orang yang pernah masuk SURGA keculi TUHAN sendiri. Yang dapat masuk kedalam SURGA. Ini karena SURGA tidak tercemar oleh kekotoran, karena SURGA tempat YANG PALING KUDUS , SURGA tidak dapat dicemari dengan berbagai kekotoran sebagai mana yang di bayangkan manusia cemar yang menuruti gagasan manusia yang rusak. Yang melawan FIRMAN TUHAN dengan berbagai macam cara. Ini karena manusia tidak dapat melihat TUHAN dan tidak dapat mendengar SUARA TUHAN serta KEMEGAHAN TUHAN. Bahkan para pemimpin agamawi juga tidak dapat masuk KERAJAAN SURGA. Apa lagi masuk SURGA. Mengapa KU-katakan seperti ini. Mereka saja tercemar oleh gagasan-gagasan mereka tidak dapat melihat KEMAHAKUASAAN TUHAN, apa lagi melihat TUHAN. Mereka tidak mengenal KEBENARAN dan tidak mengenal PEKERJAAN TUHAN. Tidak mengetahui berapa tahap pekerjaan yang di lakukan TUHAN sebelumnya. . Apa lagi untuk mengenal siapakah yang sedang berbicara kepada dunia yang menggunakan FIRMAN ini. Mengungkapi KEBENARAN tentang hal2 yang tidak pernah di ketahui manusia sejak manusia terpisah dari adam dan hawa. Sejak adam dan hawa terpisah dari taman eden, Sejak adam dan hawa terpisah dari TUHAN,Sejak adam dan hawa di racuni iblis dengan akar dosa. Manusia kehilangan jejak serta tidak bisa melihat Tubuh TUHAN dan mendengar SUARA TUHAN. Demikian juga sekarang ini. Ketika TUHAN mengungkapkan banyak FIRMAN-NYA manusia tidak memperhatikan siapakah yang sedang berbicara kepada mereka. Ketika TUHAN ingin membawa mereka masuk KERAJAAN SURGA, Mereka tetap menolak-NYA. Ini karena mereka terlalu mengandalkan diri untuk menjelajah dunia yang hampa tanpa berTUHAN. Orang2 tidak memendulikan nasip hidup mereka. 🌟🌳💖👑💁📚FIRMAN DALAM RUPA MANUSIA 🌟🌳💖👑💁📚🙏🙏🙏. https://www.facebook.com/share/v/1Bh98bT6m6/

Bonjour ma famille 👋 Perdue dans la douleur, pourquoi avons-nous besoin du salut de Dieu ? Les difficultés de la vie sont comme des nuages lourds, nous laissant souvent perdus et épuisés. Que ce soit la pression de la vie, les défis conjugaux ou la santé, nous cherchons constamment une issue. Mais face à toutes ces épreuves, avons-nous pris un moment pour réfléchir : qu'est-ce qui nous rend si seuls et impuissants ? Peut-être savons-nous déjà qu'avec nos propres forces, nous ne pouvons pas surmonter ces épreuves. C'est précisément dans ces moments-là que le salut de Dieu devient crucial. Seule la direction de Dieu peut nous guider hors de la douleur et nous conduire vers la véritable paix et le bonheur. Dieu dit : « Dieu n’abandonne pas les gens ; ils peuvent compter sur Lui et trouver en Lui un abri à tout moment, Il est leur seul confident. Ainsi, quelles que soient les difficultés et les souffrances que tu peux rencontrer, quels que soient les griefs ou les sujets empreints de négativité ou de faiblesse auxquels tu es confronté, si tu te présentes devant Dieu et pries immédiatement, Ses paroles t’apporteront du réconfort et résoudront tes difficultés et tous tes problèmes divers. » Dans les épreuves de la vie, laissons-nous guider par Dieu, participons à cette réunion et apprenons Sa parole. Par Sa bénédiction et Son aide, nous sortirons de la douleur et trouverons la paix et l'espoir. Rejoignez-nous, marchez dans la lumière de Dieu et commencez une nouvelle vie ! https://www.facebook.com/share/v/18fEQd2JEh/

🔥𝐏𝐚𝐦𝐩𝐮𝐛𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐨𝐧𝐠 𝐩𝐚𝐡𝐚𝐲𝐚𝐠 𝐧𝐠 𝐌𝐚𝐤𝐚𝐩𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐲𝐚𝐫𝐢𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐠 𝐃𝐢𝐲𝐨𝐬 𝐬𝐚 𝐩𝐚𝐦𝐚𝐦𝐚𝐠𝐢𝐭𝐚𝐧 𝐧𝐠 𝐏𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐚𝐧𝐚𝐲 𝐧𝐚 𝐀𝐧𝐚𝐤 𝐬𝐚 𝐌𝐢𝐥𝐞𝐧𝐲𝐨𝐧𝐠 𝐊𝐚𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐢𝐚𝐧: 🎷ɪꜱɪɴᴀʀᴀ ɴᴀ ᴀɴɢ ᴍɢᴀ ᴘɪɴᴛᴜᴀɴ ɴɢ ɪɢʟᴇꜱɪᴀ ɴɢ ᴘʜɪʟᴀᴅᴇʟᴘʜɪᴀ⚡ Iniluwal na ng iglesia ang mga nangasa kanya at ang matagumpay na mga batang lalaki sa harap ng trono ay nagmamartsa buhat sa Silanganan hanggang Kalunuran. Ang Diyos Mismo, ang Prinsipe ng Kapayapaan, na siyang Kamangha-mangha, ang Amang Makapangyarihan, na ating pinakahihintay ay nagpakita na sa publiko! Itinaas na ang bandila ng tagumpay sa Sion at ito'y napuno ng kagalakan pagka't ang pakay ng pagkakamit sa mga panganay na anak ay dumating na! Ngayo'y ang setro ng pagpupuno sa pamamagitan ng tungkod na bakal ay inilapat na sa paglupig sa sangkatauhan. Dinala ng mga karaniwang taong ito ang mga hinirang sa mas mataas na dako sa luklukan ng paghatol ng Diyos, higit kaysa sa naunang gawain Niya sa Tsina. Sino ang makapipigil sa mabilis na pagsulong ng gawain ng Banal na Espiritu? Sino ang mangangahas na kalabanin ang nagniningas na Araw na tumutupok sa lahat ng bagay at maging sa tabak na magkabilaan ang talim na sumusugat sa bawat nilikha?Lantaran na ninyong nakita ang Diyos sa karaniwang tao ng mga batang lalaking ito at kanyang isinara ang mga pintuan ng iglesia ng Philadelphia at pinapasimulan ang pagbubukas ng Milenyong Kaharian alang-alang sa mga anak, tao, bayan at mga hinirang na nauuhaw sa Kanyang pagpapakita sa puting ulap. Walang makatatakas sa dagundong ng kulog na nagmumula sa kanyang bibig. Daranasin ng bawat kinapal ang kanyang mga Salita upang kanilang mapagkilala na ang Diyos ang may awtoridad na mamahala sa buong lupa at na Siya ay hayag nang nakikita ng bawat mata. Nakapasok na sa pagsasanay sa Kanyang Kaharian ang munting kawan at naghihintay na makamit ang rurok ng kasakdalan hanggang sa sapitin ng tiwaling sangkatauhan ang dakilang kalamidad sa pisikal at espiritwal na mundo. Ngayo’y lubos ng naisakatuparan ang pagbaba ng bagong langit at lupa bilang bunga ng panlulupig sa tao. Anong bagay pa ang makakahadlang sa gawain ng Banal na Espiritu, ngayong ang pundasyon ng Kaharian ni Cristo sa lupa’y pinagtitibay ng kapangyarihan ng Salita? Sapagkat ang gawain ay matulin na sumusulong sa bawat araw, yaong mapagmataas at may masuwaying kalikasan ay mapag-iiwanan sa daan at tuluyang aalisin. Walang pinapaboran ang gawain ng Diyos, at hindi komokunsinte sa masasamang gawa ano man ang naging karanasan ng mga ito sa paglilingkod sa Diyos. Kahit ikaw ay nagdusa ng labis at sa mabahabang panahon ay sumailalim sa pagkikitungo, sa pagtatabas at pagpipino ng Kanyang Salita at sa huli ay pinili ang paglihis sa landas ng kabanalan, ay tiyak na hindi Niya patatawarin. Hindi palalampasin ng Diyos ang paglaban ng taong dati Niyang ginamit sa pangangasiwa sa iglesia. Ito ang pangunahing gumagambala sa kasalukuyang gawain ng Diyos at ang mga tulad niyang tagapagsilbi’y balakid sa mga tao na makasunod sa bagong gawain ng Diyos. Ang mga gawain sa iglesia ay natapos na, nakamit na ang pangunahing layon niyon at yaong nananatili pa rin dito’y naging bilanggo na lamang sa lumang yugto ng gawaing malayo sa kasalukuyang yapak ng Maylikha. Mabilis na matatapos ang anim na taon magmula nang magpahayag ang Diyos sa pamamagitan ng mga karaniwang taong ito noong 2023 at ang dakilang lungsod ng Babilonya’y ibubuwal kasabay ng huling tunog ng trumpeta ng tagumpay at sa gayo’y natapos na ang “2,300 hapon at umaga” sa propesiya ng paglilinis sa santuaryo. Kung magkagayon, ang angaw-angaw na pangkat ng mga panganay na anak, ang matagumpay na mga batang lalaking ito ay nakalabas na sa kapighatian at ngayo’y sama-samang matitipon sa pagkakaisa sa pagpapastol sa Kaharian ng Diyos upang ang lahat ng nakamit ng Ama ay matagumpay na maihatid sa lubos na kapahingahan sa Milenyong Kaharian ni Cristo. 🎷Purihin Ka Ama🙇 https://www.facebook.com/share/g/1X4UXZKXuz/?mibextid=A7sQZp https://www.facebook.com/share/v/15qjFdo1Dy/

Tuhan Yesus bernubuat dalam Matius 25:31-34 PENGHAKIMAN TERAKHIR 25:31 "Apabila Anak Manusia datang dalam kemuliaan-Nya dan semua malaikat bersama-sama dengan Dia, maka Ia akan bersemayam di atas takhta kemuliaan-Nya. 25:32 Lalu semua bangsa akan dikumpulkan di hadapan-Nya dan Ia akan memisahkan mereka seorang dari pada seorang, sama seperti gembala memisahkan domba dari kambing 25:33 dan Ia akan menempatkan domba-domba di sebelah kanan-Nya dan kambing-kambing di sebelah kiri-Nya. 25:34 Dan Raja itu akan berkata kepada mereka yang di sebelah kanan-Nya: Mari, hai kamu yang diberkati oleh Bapa-Ku, terimalah Kerajaan yang telah disediakan bagimu sejak dunia dijadikan. ================================= Penggenapan : 1. Nubuat tentang pekerjaan penghakiman Tuhan di akhir zaman Mazmur 96:13 Karena Dia datang, karena Dia datang untuk menghakimi bumi: Dia akan menghakimi dunia dengan keadilan, dan bangsa-bangsa dengan kebenaran-Nya. Mazmur 1:5 Karena itu orang fasik tidak akan berdiri di penghakiman, atau orang berdosa di sidang orang benar. Kisah Para Rasul 17:31 Karena Dia sudah menetapkan suatu hari, di mana Dia akan menghakimi dunia dalam kebenaran, oleh seorang yang sudah ditetapkan-Nya…. Yohanes 12:47-48 Dan kalau ada orang yang mendengar perkataan-Ku, dan tidak percaya, Aku tidak menghakiminya: karena Aku datang bukan untuk menghakimi dunia, melainkan untuk menyelamatkan dunia. Dia yang menolak Aku dan tidak menerima firman-Ku, sudah ada yang menghakiminya: firman yang Aku nyatakan, itulah yang akan menghakiminya di akhir zaman. Yohanes 5:22 Karena Bapa tidak menghakimi siapa pun, tetapi telah menyerahkan seluruh penghakiman itu kepada Anak. Yohanes 5:27 Dan Dia juga sudah memberikan kepada-Nya otoritas untuk mengadakan penghakiman, karena Dia adalah Anak Manusia. 1 Petrus 4:17 Karena waktunya akan datang penghakiman harus dimulai di rumah Tuhan: dan jika itu pertama kali dimulai pada kita, apakah kesudahan dari mereka yang tidak menaati Injil Tuhan? Daniel 7:10 Sungai berapi yang muncul dan mengalir dari hadapan-Nya: beribu-ribu kali melayani Dia, dan berlaksa-laksa berdiri orang berdiri di hadapan-Nya: penghakiman ditetapkan, dan kitab-kitab dibuka. Wahyu 20:11-12 Dan aku melihat takhta putih yang besar dan Dia yang duduk di atasnya. Dari hadapan-Nya langit dan bumi lenyap dan tidak ditemukan tempatnya lagi. Lalu aku melihat orang-orang mati, besar dan kecil, berdiri di hadapan takhta Tuhan itu; kemudian semua kitab dibuka, dan dibuka sebuah kitab lain yaitu kitab kehidupan dan orang-orang mati dihakimi menurut apa yang tertulis di kitab itu, menurut perbuatan mereka. Wahyu 14:7 Katanya dengan suara nyaring, Takutlah akan Tuhan, dan berikan kemuliaan pada-Nya; karena saat penghakiman-Nya sudah tiba: dan sembahlah Dia yang telah menciptakan langit dan bumi, dan laut dan semua mata air. 2. Hubungan Antara Penghakiman Akhir Zaman Tuhan dan Memasuki Kerajaan Surga Yesaya 2:2-4 Dan akan terjadi pada hari-hari terakhir, bahwa gunung rumah TUHAN akan didirikan di atas gunung-gunung, dan akan ditinggikan di atas bukit-bukit, dan semua bangsa akan berbondong-bondong ke sana. Dan banyak orang akan pergi dan berkata, Mari, dan mari kita pergi ke gunung TUHAN, ke rumah Tuhan Yakub, dan Dia akan mengajar kita tentang jalannya, dan kita akan berjalan di jalannya, karena dari Sion akan keluar hukum dan firman TUHAN dari Yerusalem.Dan Dia akan menghakimi di antara bangsa-bangsa dan akan menegur banyak orang: dan mereka akan membuat pedang mereka menjadi bajak dan tombak mereka menjadi pisau pemangkas: bangsa tidak akan mengangkat pedang melawan bangsa, dan juga mereka tidak akan belajar berperang lagi. Zakharia 13:8-9 Dan akan terjadi di seluruh negeri, firman Yahweh, dua pertiga di dalamnya akan dipisahkan dan mati; tetapi sepertiganya akan ditinggalkan di sana.Dan Aku akan membawa bagian ketiga itu melewati api, dan akan memurnikan mereka seperti perak dimurnikan, dan akan mengujinya seperti emas diuji: mereka akan memanggil nama-Ku, dan Aku akan mendengar mereka: Aku akan berkata, Ini adalah umat-Ku: dan mereka akan berkata, Yahweh adalah Tuhanku. Daniel 12:9-10 Dan dia berkata, Pergilah, Daniel: karena kata-katanya ditutup dan dimeteraikan sampai akhir zaman.Banyak orang akan disucikan, dibersihkan, dan diuji. Wahyu 22:14 Berbahagialah mereka yang melakukan perintah-perintah-Nya, sehingga mereka dapat memperoleh hak atas pohon kehidupan dan dapat masuk melalui pintu-pintu gerbang ke dalam kota itu. Wahyu 21:3-4 Dan aku mendengar suara nyaring dari surga berkata: Lihatlah Bait Suci Tuhan ada bersama manusia, dan Dia akan tinggal bersama mereka dan mereka akan menjadi umat-Nya dan Tuhan sendiri akan ada bersama mereka, menjadi Tuhan mereka. Tuhan akan menghapuskan setiap air mata dari mata mereka; dan tidak akan ada lagi kematian, kesedihan, tangisan, dan kesakitan: karena hal-hal yang lama sudah berlalu. Wahyu 11:15 Dan malaikat ketujuh meniup sangkakala; dan terdengar suara nyaring di surga yang berkata, Kerajaan-kerajaan di dunia ini menjadi milik Tuhan kita, dan Kristus-Nya; dan Dia akan memerintah sampai selama-selamanya. 🔥🔥🔥 Firman Tuhan Yang MahaKuasa : Tuhan berfirman: “Pekerjaan di akhir zaman bertujuan untuk memisahkan segala sesuatu menurut jenisnya, untuk mengakhiri rencana pengelolaan Tuhan, karena waktunya sudah makin dekat dan hari Tuhan telah tiba. Tuhan membawa semua yang telah memasuki kerajaan-Nya, yaitu mereka yang telah setia kepada-Nya sampai akhir, ke dalam zaman Tuhan sendiri. Namun, sampai datangnya zaman Tuhan itu sendiri, pekerjaan yang akan Tuhan lakukan bukanlah untuk mengamati perbuatan-perbuatan manusia atau menyelidiki kehidupan manusia, tetapi menghakimi pemberontakannya, karena Tuhan akan menyucikan semua orang yang datang ke hadapan takhta-Nya. Semua orang yang telah mengikuti jejak kaki Tuhan sampai hari ini adalah mereka yang telah datang ke hadapan takhta Tuhan, dengan demikian, setiap orang yang menerima tahap terakhir pekerjaan Tuhan menjadi sasaran penyucian Tuhan. Dengan kata lain, semua orang yang menerima tahap terakhir pekerjaan Tuhan menjadi sasaran penghakiman Tuhan.” “Ketika kata "penghakiman" disebutkan, engkau akan berpikir tentang kata-kata yang Yahweh ucapkan ke semua tempat dan kata-kata teguran yang Yesus ucapkan kepada orang-orang Farisi. Walaupun kata-kata itu sangat keras, kata-kata ini bukanlah penghakiman Tuhan bagi manusia, hanya kata-kata yang diucapkan oleh Tuhan dalam suasana yang berbeda, yaitu situasi yang berbeda. Kata-kata ini tidak seperti kata-kata yang diucapkan oleh Kristus saat Dia menghakimi manusia di akhir zaman. Di akhir zaman, Kristus menggunakan berbagai kebenaran untuk mengajar manusia, mengungkapkan hakikat manusia, dan membedah kata-kata dan perbuatan-perbuatannya. Firman ini terdiri dari berbagai kebenaran, seperti tugas-tugas manusia, bagaimana manusia harus menaati Tuhan, bagaimana setia kepada Tuhan, bagaimana hidup dalam kemanusiaan yang normal, serta hikmat dan watak Tuhan, dan lain-lain. Firman ini semuanya ditujukan pada hakikat manusia dan wataknya yang rusak. Secara khusus, firman yang mengungkapkan bagaimana manusia menolak Tuhan diucapkan karena manusia merupakan perwujudan Iblis dan kekuatan musuh yang melawan Tuhan. Dalam melaksanakan pekerjaan penghakiman-Nya, Tuhan bukannya begitu saja menjelaskan tentang sifat manusia hanya dengan beberapa kata. Dia menyingkapkannya, menanganinya, dan memangkasnya sekian lama. Cara-cara penyingkapan, penanganan, dan pemangkasan ini tidak bisa digantikan dengan kata-kata biasa, tetapi dengan kebenaran yang tidak dimiliki oleh manusia sama sekali. Hanya cara-cara seperti ini yang dianggap penghakiman, hanya melalui penghakiman jenis ini manusia bisa ditundukkan dan diyakinkan sepenuhnya untuk tunduk kepada Tuhan, dan bahkan memperoleh pengenalan yang sejati akan Tuhan. Tujuan pekerjaan penghakiman agar manusia mengetahui wajah Tuhan yang sejati dan kebenaran tentang pemberontakannya sendiri. Pekerjaan penghakiman memungkinkan manusia untuk mendapatkan banyak pemahaman akan kehendak Tuhan, tujuan pekerjaan Tuhan, dan misteri-misteri yang tidak dapat dipahami manusia. Pekerjaan ini juga memungkinkan manusia untuk mengenali dan mengetahui hakikatnya yang rusak dan akar dari kerusakannya, dan juga mengungkapkan keburukan manusia. Semua hasil ini dicapai melalui pekerjaan penghakiman, karena substansi pekerjaan ini adalah pekerjaan membukakan kebenaran, jalan, dan hidup Tuhan kepada semua orang yang beriman kepada-Nya. Pekerjaan ini adalah pekerjaan penghakiman yang dilakukan oleh Tuhan.” “Esensi pekerjaan penghakiman dan hajaran Tuhan adalah pentahiran manusia, untuk hari perhentian terakhir. Jika tidak, seluruh umat manusia tidak akan pernah bisa mengikuti sesamanya atau masuk ke tempat perhentian terakhir. Inilah satu-satunya jalan agar manusia bisa masuk ke tempat perhentian. Hanya pekerjaan pentahiran Tuhan yang mampu mentahirkan manusia dari ketidakbenaran mereka, dan hanya pekerjaan hajaran dan penghakiman-Nya yang mampu menyoroti hal-hal yang tidak patuh di antara manusia, sehingga memisahkan orang-orang yang dapat diselamatkan dari yang tidak, serta mana yang akan tinggal dari yang tidak. Saat pekerjaan-Nya telah selesai, mereka yang tinggal akan ditahirkan dan menikmati kehidupan manusia kedua yang lebih indah di bumi saat mereka memasuki alam manusia yang lebih tinggi; dengan kata lain, mereka akan masuk ke hari perhentian manusia dan hidup bersama Tuhan. Setelah mereka yang tidak bisa tinggal menjalani hajaran dan penghakiman, wujud asli mereka akan seluruhnya terungkap. Setelah ini, mereka semua akan dihancurkan dan, sama seperti Iblis, mereka tidak akan diizinkan untuk bertahan hidup di bumi. Manusia di masa depan tidak akan lagi terdiri dari jenis orang-orang seperti ini; orang-orang ini tidak layak masuk ke tanah tempat perhentian akhir, maupun memasuki hari perhentian yang akan dimiliki Tuhan bersama dengan manusia, karena mereka adalah target penghukuman dan merupakan orang-orang jahat, dan mereka bukan orang-orang benar. Mereka sudah pernah ditebus, dan sudah dihakimi dan dihajar; mereka juga sudah pernah memberikan pelayanan kepada Tuhan, tetapi ketika hari terakhir tiba, mereka tetap akan dilenyapkan dan dihancurkan oleh karena kejahatan mereka sendiri dan oleh karena ketidaktaatan dan sifat mereka sendiri yang tidak dapat ditebus. Mereka tidak akan ada lagi di dunia masa depan, dan mereka tidak akan ada lagi di antara umat manusia di masa depan. Semua dan setiap pelaku kejahatan, semua dan setiap orang yang belum diselamatkan akan dihancurkan ketika yang kudus di antara umat manusia memasuki tempat perhentian, terlepas apakah mereka adalah roh orang mati ataupun mereka masih hidup dalam daging. Terlepas pada zaman apakah roh-roh pelaku kejahatan, dan orang-orang pelaku kejahatan, atau roh-roh orang benar dan orang-orang yang melakukan kebenaran itu hidup, setiap pelaku kejahatan akan dihancurkan dan setiap orang benar akan bertahan hidup. Apakah seseorang atau sesosok roh menerima keselamatan tidak sepenuhnya ditentukan berdasarkan pekerjaan di akhir zaman, tetapi lebih ditentukan berdasarkan apakah mereka telah menolak atau tidak taat kepada Tuhan. Jika orang-orang pada zaman sebelumnya melakukan kejahatan dan tidak dapat diselamatkan, mereka pasti akan menjadi sasaran penghukuman. Jika orang-orang pada zaman ini melakukan kejahatan dan tidak dapat diselamatkan, mereka juga pasti akan menjadi sasaran penghukuman. Orang dipisahkan atas dasar kebaikan dan kejahatan, bukan atas dasar zaman. Begitu orang dipisahkan atas dasar kejahatan dan kebaikan, mereka tidak langsung dihukum atau diberi upah; sebaliknya, Tuhan hanya akan melakukan pekerjaan-Nya untuk menghukum orang jahat dan memberi upah orang baik setelah Ia melakukan pekerjaan penaklukan-Nya di akhir zaman. Sebenarnya, Ia telah menggunakan kebaikan dan kejahatan untuk memisahkan manusia sejak Ia mulai melakukan pekerjaan-Nya di antara manusia. Ia hanya akan memberi upah kepada orang yang benar dan menghukum orang yang jahat setelah menyelesaikan pekerjaan-Nya, dan bukan memisahkan orang yang jahat dan orang yang benar setelah Ia menyelesaikan pekerjaan-Nya pada akhirnya, dan kemudian segera memulai pekerjaan-Nya untuk menghukum orang yang jahat dan memberi upah orang yang benar. Pekerjaan terakhir-Nya untuk menghukum orang yang jahat dan memberi upah orang yang baik dilakukan sepenuhnya untuk benar-benar memurnikan seluruh umat manusia, sehingga Ia dapat membawa umat manusia yang sepenuhnya kudus ke tempat perhentian yang abadi. Tahap pekerjaan-Nya ini adalah tahap pekerjaan yang paling penting. Ini merupakan tahap terakhir dari seluruh pekerjaan pengelolaan-Nya. Jika Tuhan tidak menghancurkan orang jahat dan membiarkan mereka tetap ada, seluruh umat manusia tetap tidak dapat masuk ke tempat perhentian, dan Tuhan tidak dapat membawa seluruh umat manusia ke alam yang lebih baik. Pekerjaan semacam ini tidak akan sepenuhnya selesai. Ketika Ia menyelesaikan pekerjaan-Nya, seluruh umat manusia akan sepenuhnya kudus. Hanya dengan cara inilah Tuhan dapat tinggal dengan damai di tempat perhentian.” Puji Tuhan Yang MahaKuasa Amin🙏 https://www.facebook.com/share/v/19FtxEedvo/ 基督教會歌曲《信神的真正含義》【詩歌MV】 https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=jB5vimLC6vg

"Dios te ha estado protegiendo del mal y ni siquiera lo sabes. Sólo dile: ¡Gracias! Dios dice: “Siempre que Satanás corrompe al hombre o le inflige un daño desenfrenado, Dios no se queda ahí ocioso ni tampoco se echa a un lado, ni hace la vista gorda con aquellos que Él ha elegido. Dios entiende con toda claridad todo lo que Satanás hace. Independientemente de lo que haga Satanás, de la tendencia que haga surgir, Dios sabe todo lo que él está intentando hacer y no abandona a Sus elegidos. En cambio, sin llamar la atención, en secreto, silenciosamente, Dios hace todo lo necesario. Cuando Dios empieza a obrar en alguien, cuando ha escogido a alguien, no proclama esta noticia a nadie ni tampoco a Satanás, y mucho menos hace gestos grandilocuentes. Él hace lo necesario muy callado y de forma muy natural. En primer lugar, selecciona una familia para ti; tus antecedentes familiares, tus padres, tus ancestros, todo esto Dios lo decide por adelantado. En otras palabras, Dios no toma estas decisiones por antojo, sino más bien empezó esta obra hace mucho. Una vez que Dios ha escogido una familia para ti, también elige entonces la fecha en la que nacerás. Luego Dios te observa mientras naces y llegas al mundo llorando, contempla tu nacimiento, te ve cuando pronuncias tus primeras palabras, cuando tropiezas y das tus primeros pasos, cuando aprendes a caminar. Primero das un paso, y después otro; y ahora puedes correr, saltar, hablar y expresar tus sentimientos… A medida que las personas crecen, la mirada de Satanás está fija en cada una de ellas, como el tigre que observa detenidamente a su presa. Sin embargo, al hacer Su obra, Dios nunca ha estado sujeto a ninguna limitación procedente de personas, sucesos o cosas, de espacio ni de tiempo; hace lo que debería y lo que debe. Durante tu crecimiento, tal vez te encuentres con muchas cosas que no te gustan, como enfermedades y frustración. Sin embargo, al caminar por esta senda, tu vida y tu futuro están estrictamente bajo el cuidado de Dios. Él te proporciona una garantía genuina que te durará toda la vida, porque está justo a tu lado, protegiéndote y cuidándote. Tú, sin saberlo, vas creciendo. Empiezas a entrar en contacto con cosas nuevas y empiezas a conocer este mundo y a esta humanidad. Todo es fresco y nuevo para ti. Hay cosas que te gusta hacer. Vives en tu propia humanidad, en tu propio espacio y no tienes ni la más mínima percepción sobre la existencia de Dios. Sin embargo, Él te observa en cada paso del camino mientras maduras, y te observa en cada paso que das hacia adelante. Incluso cuando estás aprendiendo conocimiento o estudiando ciencia, Dios no se ha apartado de tu lado nunca, ni un solo paso. En esto eres exactamente igual a otras personas, en el transcurso de conocer el mundo e involucrarte en él, has establecido tus propios ideales, tienes tus propios pasatiempos, tus propios intereses y albergas nobles ambiciones. Con frecuencia meditas sobre tu propio futuro, y a menudo haces bosquejos de cómo debería verse tu futuro. Pero, independientemente de lo que suceda a lo largo del camino, Dios lo ve suceder todo con claridad. Tal vez tú mismo hayas olvidado tu propio pasado, pero para Dios, no hay quien pueda entenderte mejor que Él. Vives bajo la mirada de Dios, creciendo, madurando. Durante este periodo, la tarea más importante de Dios es algo que nadie percibe jamás, algo que nadie sabe. Ciertamente, Dios no se lo cuenta a nadie. Entonces, ¿qué es esto tan crucial? Se puede afirmar que es la garantía de que Dios salvará a la persona. Esto significa que si Dios quiere salvarla, debe hacerlo. Esta tarea es vitalmente importante tanto para el hombre como para Dios. ¿Sabéis qué es esto? Parecería que no tuvierais ningún sentimiento al respecto ni ningún concepto de ello, así que os lo diré. Desde el momento en que naciste, hasta el momento presente, Dios ha llevado a cabo mucha obra en ti, pero no te rinde cuentas de forma detallada de cada cosa que ha hecho. Dios no te ha permitido saberlo ni te lo ha dicho. Sin embargo, para la humanidad, todo lo que Él hace es importante. En lo que concierne a Dios, es algo que debe hacer. En Su corazón hay algo importante que necesita hacer y que sobrepasa por mucho a cualquiera de estas cosas. Pues es que, desde el momento en que nace una persona hasta el día de hoy, Dios debe garantizar su seguridad. Cuando escucháis estas palabras, podéis sentiros como si no entendierais por completo. Quizás os preguntéis: “¿Es tan importante esta seguridad?”. ¿Cuál es, pues, el significado literal de “seguridad”? Tal vez entendáis que significa paz o que nunca experimentaréis desastres o calamidades, que viviréis bien, que llevaréis una vida normal. Pero en vuestro corazón, debéis saber que no es tan simple. ¿Qué es exactamente esto de lo que os he estado hablando, que Dios tiene que hacer, entonces? ¿Qué significa seguridad para Dios? ¿Es realmente una garantía del significado normal de “seguridad”? No. Entonces, ¿qué es esto que Dios hace? Esta “seguridad” significa que no serás devorado por Satanás. ¿Es esto importante? No ser devorado por Satanás, ¿tiene que ver con tu seguridad o no? Sí, esto tiene que ver con tu seguridad personal, y no puede haber nada más importante. Una vez que has sido devorado por Satanás, tu alma y tu carne ya no le pertenecen a Dios. Él ya no te salvará. Dios abandona a las almas y a las personas que han sido devoradas por Satanás. Por tanto, afirmo que lo más importante que Dios tiene que hacer es garantizar esta seguridad tuya, garantizar que no seas devorado por Satanás. Esto es muy importante, ¿no es así? ¿Por qué no podéis, pues, responder? ¡Parecería que no sois capaces de sentir la gran bondad de Dios!” (La Palabra, Vol. II. Sobre conocer a Dios. Dios mismo, el único VI)." https://www.facebook.com/share/p/12DaJXpRjHw/

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