#strange world 08

[luunoir]

8 de diciembre del 2023

Se que me he tardado en escribirte, quizás sea la última vez o quién sabe, aún no pierdo la esperanza de conocerte algún día. En mi corazón está tatuado tu nombre, tu pasión, tus palabras y todo de ti. Quizás fui cobarde, quizás fui una estúpida pero realmente te amaba y te amo, no puedo sacarte de mi alma y duele demasiado cuando te recuerdo. Duele tanto que siento que muero, se que soy dramática pero por favor, digámosle al destino que nos vuelva a cruzar.

Te necesito, te extraño. ¿Tu también lo haces?

A veces quiero odiarte pero a quien tengo que odiar es a mi misma por dejarte, duele más una despedida que jamás se dijo que una despedida. Porque eso sucedió, no nos despedimos y aún mantengo la esperanza de volver a verte, leerte.

Se acerca tu cumpleaños, ya perdí la cuenta de que número. Se acerca navidad y año nuevo, y realmente estoy muy triste para festejar esos eventos. Ojalá pudiéramos volver al tiempo atrás, juraría que te hubiera confesado este amor.

Te quiero y extraño,

Lunoir.

[alpha-mag-media]

Dwayne ‘The Rock’ Johnson is caught out in very ‘strange lie’ and everyone’s baffled | QG72FWO | 2023-12-31 05:08:01 | December 31, 2023 at 06:08AM

Dwayne ‘The Rock’ Johnson is caught out in very ‘strange lie’ and everyone’s baffled | QG72FWO | 2023-12-31 05:08:01 Read More … Check full articles at Source: ALPHA MAG

[wongyuuu]

Seventeen Masterlist

(💧) angst - (💓) fluff - (🌟) favorite - (⚡) smut - ( 🫧) writing - (✅) done

❁ Willow ➝ marriage of convenience (💧✅ ) word count: 16.7k summary: seungcheol always knew that he was going to marry you, but things only get harder once he does ↳ one, two, three, drabble

❁ Enchanted ➝ oneshot (💓✅ ) word count: 1.2k summary: in which you meet seungcheol for the first time ↳ read here

❁ Strange Love ➝ oneshot (💧💓✅ ) word count: 3.1k summary: years after your divorce, you meet your ex and he wants to pick up where you left off ↳ read here

❁ Red ➝ oneshot (⚡✅) word count: 1.6k summary: the sight of seungcheol driving had always been your favorite but when both of you were trying to escape while being chased down by the police, you couldn't help but make things a little more… interesting ↳ read here

❁ High For This ➝ oneshot feat. mingyu (⚡✅) word count: 4.3k summary: seungcheol is willing to make your fantasies come true. ↳ read here

❁ Back Room ➝ oneshot (⚡✅) word count: 2.3k summary: while seungcheol is on a meeting you decide that it's a great moment to send him nudes. ↳ read here

❁ Calendar ➝ oneshot (⚡✅) word count: 3.1k summary: the red mark on the calendar is one of seungcheol's favorites ↳ read here

❁ Drabbles ❁

➝ in which he comforts you (💓)

➝ in which you get hurt in a car accident (💧💓)

➝ in which he helps you drive again (💧💓)

➝ in which he tore his acl (💧💓)

➝ in which he forgets a date (💧)

➝ [2:08] glimpse of us (💧)

❁ Breaking Point ➝ one shot (💧✅ ) word count: 1.5k summary: Jeonghan was never one to lose his patience with people, least of all you. But one day a fight gets out of control and it leaves you wondering if your relationship has come to an end. ↳ read here

❁ Lens of Ice ➝ figure skater!au (💧💓⚡✅) word count: 29k summary: jeonghan has only one chance left to make it to the olympics. as he embarks on this decisive journey, you, a documentarist, are set to follow him as he seeks the ultimate glory. ↳ part one, part two

❁ Drabbles ❁

➝ in which he finds you crying because of your period (💓)

➝ in which you reject him (💧)

❁ Sunday Afternoon ➝ oneshot (💓✅ ) word count: 2.4k summary: everyday Jun goes to the same café in hopes that one day he’ll get enough courage to ask the cute barista out. ↳ read here

❁ Drabbles ❁

➝ in which he comforts you after a long day at work (💓)

❁ Way Back Home ➝ one shot (💧💓✅ ) word count: 6.3k summary: after twelve years apart, you finally meet wonwoo again ↳ read here

❁ Drabbles ❁

➝ in which he is late (💧💓)

❁ Elevator ➝ soulmate!au (💧 🌟 ✅) word count: 27k summary: in a world where soulmates exists, Jihoon is faced with difficult decisions ↳ one, two

❁ One More Day ➝ one shot (💧 ✅) word count: 5k summary: every day jihoon has to make you fall for him again ↳ read here

❁ Slow Motion ➝ oneshot (⚡💓✅) word count: 3.4k summary: when you offer to cut jihoon's hair, he has a hard time holding himself back from touching you ↳ read here

❁ Drabbles ❁

➝ in which you visit him at the studio (💓)

❁ Strange Love ➝ oneshot (💧💓✅ ) word count: 3.1k summary: years after your divorce, you meet your ex and he wants to pick up where you left off ↳ read here

❁ Crossing The Line ➝ oneshot (⚡💧💓✅) word count: 5.4k summary: Mingyu had always been your best friend and that line had never been crossed before, then, one day, you woke up naked ion his bed with a vivid memory of the previous night. ↳ one, two

❁ High For This ➝ oneshot feat. seungcheol (⚡✅) word count: 4.3k summary: seungcheol is willing to make your fantasies come true. ↳ read here

❁ Drabbles ❁

➝ in which mingyu wants to sleep on the couch after a fight (💓)

➝ in which you tell mingyu about a movie you watched as kid (💓)

➝ in which he he cuts his hair (💓)

❁ Memories of Us ➝ soulmate!au (💧 💓🌟 ✅) word count: 11.9k summary: every night seokmin dreams of his past lifes, when he met and fell for his soulmate countless times. ↳ read here

❁ Midnight Rain ➝ one shot (💧 💓⚡ ✅) word count: 17k summary: after seven years away, you finally return home. meeting seokmin again wasn't in your plans, but life wasn't willing to let you have it your way. ↳ read here

❁ Drabbles ❁

➝ constellations of him (💓)

❁ Raindrops ➝ oneshot (💓✅) word count: 2.5k summary: you and minghao walk home after a party, when you are surprised by the rain. ↳ read here

❁ Drabbles ❁

➝ midnight regrets (💓💧)

❁ The Road That Leads To You ➝ oneshot (💓✅ ) word count: 3.6k summary: double dates are bound to go wrong ↳ read here

➝ seventeen as mafia

➝ seventeen as songs from red (ts)

➝ seventeen as songs from 1989 (ts)

➝ seventeen as songs from lover (ts)

➝ seventeen as songs from folklore (ts)

➝ seventeen as songs from midnights (ts)

➝ seventeen as romcoms

➝ seventeen and perilla leaves

➝ seventeen as brazilian words

[bangchanbabygurl]

In The Eyes Of Love

Genre: Dark Romance/Smut/Angsty/Thriller/CEO Heir/Enemies to lovers arc.

Warnings: Explicit language/mention of domestic violence/mention of violence/alcohol abuse/mention of death/stalker/mentions of blood/drug abuse/smut scenes/dark mature themes/triggering scenes/traumatic experiences/ mentions of cheating & twisted love triangles.

Member: S.Coups (SEVENTEEN) + Wonwoo (SEVENTEEN)

In a world of madness, there’s always something more wicked sneaking into your life.

We all have the choice of leaving the dark path we follow or continuing to walk down the road; there are no wrong answers when it comes to leaving it. But there’s always a wrong answer upon continuing the path.

Summary: Getting out of a messy relationship was a big step in life for any woman; it was a fresh breath of freedom and peace. Working at a hospital as a Phlebotomist Technician was the main focus now, pushing yourself to achieve bigger goals financially and independence. Till your best friend, Chan…Christopher Bang was a man who was known for playing matchmaker within the friend group. You only hoped and made him promise he wouldn't use his tactics on you, but it was like telling a toddler not to eat sweets. You didn't want him to play matchmaker, knowing your crush on your brother’s work buddy was known to some of your friends. You lost patience upon discovering he was three steps ahead of you, wanting to play Cupid for you and his friend, who knows nothing besides marketing and numbers. You despise Choi Seungcheol for following Chan’s strange tactics and interfering with your friendship/crush with Jeon Wonwoo.

OST (Songs that give it a little spice): ONE OF THE GIRLS - The Weeknd | Older - Isabel LaRosa | Worship - Ari Abdul | Promises - EMO | Structure Of Love II - VOWWS | How Long - Tove Lo | Complicated - Avril Lavigne |

Wattpad Link

Table Of Content-»

Playlist

ȯ Act I

01. Loathe

02. Birthday Girl

03. Superstitions

04: Wildest Moments

05. In Knots

06: this is me trying

07: Head Over Heels

08: Corporation

09: Champagne Problems

10: Ungodly hour

ȯ Act II

11: Her Body

12: Sacrifice

13: Delicate

14: Old Fashion

15: Seungcheol: Family Feud

16: Souvenir

17. Temptation

18. Sweet Revenge

19. Truth Be Told

20.

ȯ Act III

21. Villains

22. Bitter Heart

23. How Long?

24. Do your worst

25. Do you?

26. Is this what it feels like?

27. I Know You

[crunchy-lesbun]

Let’s talk Limbus Company!

Something I recently noticed is that Limbus Company’s Abnormality numbering system is slightly different from that of Lobotomy Corporation. Whereas L Corp. used one letter and two numbers, the Company threw in an additional number to the set that throws everything slightly off. Additionally, there’s a few extra variations we see in Limbus that we don’t in Lobotomy, so without further adieu, here’s what I think the different parts of Limbus Company’s Abnormality designations mean, gathered from what we already know and have theorized about L Corp’s system:

Letter — Denotes the Abnormality’s origin as one of the following:

• Original — Spawned from nothing but the thoughts and desires of the Dreamer and therefore the purest type of Abnormality

• Trauma — Spawned as the fallout of the Dreamer’s grievances with the City

• Fairytale — Based on literature or folklore, generally originating from outside the City

• Myth — Based on artifacts and ideas discovered from the days before the City, but could also be exclusively religious in nature (it is difficult to tell given we currently only have three known examples to go off)

• Sin — Spawned from one of the seven sin resonances, so far only consisting of Peccatulae

• Donator — Granted to L Corp. from an outside source

First Number — Denotes the shape of the Abnormality as follows:

1 - Humanoid Organism

2 - Non-Humanoid Organism

3 - Supernatural Being

4 - Object without Moving Parts

5 - Object with Moving Parts

6 - Undefined

7 - Breaching Tool

8 - Peccatulum

9 - Standard Tool

Second Number — Denotes the District in which the Abnormality was first encountered by Limbus Company.

Third Number — Unique identification number given to each Abnormality within a District.

So, for a few examples as proof of this theory’s validity:

S-08-04-01, Peccatulum Gulae, is a Peccatulum (Automatically making it S-08) and the first Abnormality we meet in the game’s first dungeon in District 4 (Making the last two numbers 04-01).

M-04-04-05, Doomsday Calendar, is based on the stone calendars created by Mesoamerican cultures of the real world (M-04). It is the fifth Abnormality encountered in District 4 (04-05). Also, from now on, I won’t be bothering with the third number because it is somewhat arbitrary.

T-04-10-05, Have You Become Strong, takes the form of a large, plastic freight container and can be presumed from its combat event to be formed from a dreamer who was involved in or witnessed some kind of industrial accident (T-04). It is found in District 10 (10-05).

F-05-10-18, Baba Yaga, is based on a Russian folk character, a witch known as… Baba Yaga (F). Specifically, it is based on the hut that the witch lived in that walked about on fowl’s legs (05). It is found in District 10 aaand you get the idea.

Now, the weird one that kind of threw a wrench in this entire thing initially was F-04-03-04, Ebony Queen’s Apple. This Abnormality is an Aberration of Snow White’s Apple from Lobotomy Corporation and Library of Ruina, automatically making it a Fairytale-type due to its association with the popular children’s story. Though some might argue it should be considered a humanoid or non-humanoid organism, this apple has already fallen from its tree and is therefore more in the inanimate object category, making its first number 04. Make sense so far? Of course it does. The strange thing about this Abno is that, despite making its debut appearance in District 4, its second number is 03. So, why is this?

There are two possible theories. One is that the Abnormality is not one of a kind, and that a previous team from Limbus also sighted the exact same creature in District 3, which opens up an entire can of worms about the uniqueness of Abnos. The second is that, shortly before the fall of L Corp, the Ebony Queen’s Apple was transferred from a Branch in District 3 over to the one Yuri worked at, which ALSO has weird implications.

Anyway, I’ve rambled on way too long about this, now. I don’t really have a good way of ending this post, so I guess I’ll just say that Limbus is still a relatively new game, and I’ll be making sure to check how future Abnormalities fair in this classification system.

Ciao!

[octuscle]

I know you 'produce' a lot of athletes in soccer, football and so on but I'd like to become an ice hockey star - maybe I can replace an actual player and you find another solution for him? I'm open for your suggestions but nice abs are a must 😉

Monday morning. 08:30. Start of duty at the call center. The phones are ringing off the hook. It's going to be another great week, you can feel it. There's still slush on the streets of Berlin outside. Somehow spring is not coming at all this year. After the third caller who berates you for things you can't do anything about, you're already fed up. You greet the fourth caller with a friendly "Grützi". Shit, where does your Swiss accent come from… You're actually from northern Germany… Nonsense! Bern is not in northern Germany. You are proudly Swiss. The other colleagues here have always made fun of your accent…

Thank God you survived this morning. During your lunch break, you go for a run through the park. Your body needs exercise, otherwise you'll get cranky. This morning it was still bloody cold outside in Nashville. But the temperature is rising rapidly. In the early afternoon, it should finally be well over 20 degrees Celsius again. Eh, you mean 68 degrees Fahrenheit, of course. You just can't get used to the strange units of measurement here in the USA. But you'll learn that too.

The afternoon shift at the gym is always relaxed. There are hardly any people working out. Plenty of free space to do a bit of training yourself. You love to confuse new customers. With your roots in the Balkans, most people here think you're an Arab. And when you speak English with your Swiss accent, nobody knows what to believe. After 4 p.m. you have more to do. That's when some of the ice hockey team come to train. They're professionals, they're fun to talk to. Better than overweight pensioners who want to get in shape. Hehehe, but they usually tip better…

The Predators have a public practice tonight. You saw they're looking for a new fitness trainer. Ice hockey was already your passion back home in Switzerland. Now to be under contract with one of the best clubs in the world... That would be a hot deal! And you know a few of the guys quite well by now, maybe someone will put in a good word for you. A few of the less experienced fans ask you if you're an injured professional. Because you're not on the ice. Yes, you really don't look like the typical fan in your jersey….

The alarm clock rings at 05:30. You're awake two seconds earlier. Even though your family's roots are in the Balkans, you were born and raised in Bern. You are a Swiss precision instrument. Always on time. And your shots almost always hit the mark. Training on the ice starts at 09:00. Before that, you want to do your eight-mile lap and spend an hour on the weights. Last season you weren't fit enough, you missed a lot of time due to injury. That shouldn't happen to you again this season. Hard and controlled training. That's the only way to stay at the top!

Dude, you're a machine! Captain of the team. The first Swiss player to be awarded the James Norris Memorial Trophy as the NHL's best defenseman. You're one of the players with the highest advertising revenue. Some attribute it to your eight-pack. Others attribute it to your discipline and reliability. But you still have a little quirk. You call your helmet Roman. You haven't told anyone why…

[rainy-astrology]

ATEEZ San Birth Chart Analysis

Based on my opinion and observations. Not a professional astrologer. May change later.

July 10th, 1999

Jinju, South Korea

10:08 AM

☀️♋️, 🌙♊️, ⬆️♍️

Sun in 11th shows a drive and ambition towards his future dreams and goals. San has always wanted to be a singer since he was young and has worked very hard to achieve his dream. He has improved his performance and vocal skills immensely over the years, often being the most eye catching member for many people who aren't ATINYs.

Mercury Leo in 11th shows a preference for like minded people. San seems to really enjoy the company of others - seems considerate of others feelings and cares to be on good terms with people. He has a natural charm and sweetness about him.

Moon in 9th also adds onto his ambitiousness - he truly seems to want to make a great influence on the world and be successful. Especially as a Virgo rising...I've never seen a lazy Virgo placement, they always work so hard for they want. He's very strongly opinionated, all of his beliefs come from the heart.

Saturn is also in 9th, which solidifies his strong beliefs/opnions. Saturn here puts a heavy focus on building future career and life. He makes sure to implement a sense of strictness and discipline into his routine.

Saturn trine ASC can make him appear serious and quiet. Physically, it can give people sharp features (Saturn and prominent bone structure), which San definitely has: sharp cheekbones and jaw, nose and eyes, prominent brow bones. Angular brow shapes suit him the best too (at least imo - it looks more cohesive with the rest of his features compared to straight brows). This is also likely why many people may find him intimidating at first or think he's older than his real age.

Mars Scorpio in 2nd is such a possessive and protective placement. It also creates an incredibly hardworking individual who always goes for whatever they want with no limit. San may be especially inclined to working hard towards his finances and can be particular about things he owns (iirc he has a black card but also won't bother to buy new things sometimes).

Jupiter in 8th...this could be about being good with finances, it is a priority for him (could obtain wealth from someone else maybe). This could also be about transformation of himself as 8th house is "death" and Jupiter is expansion. San seems to focus a lot on being authentic and true to himself, so it would not be too surprising if it is about him constantly trying to improve his character for the better. Maybe he has gone through a lot of life changing experiences or will be/is going through them.

Venus Leo in 12th is interesting, especially since Venus squares Moon and Pluto too. He's certainly loyal and devoted to those he loves (Leo's loyalty + Pluto's possessiveness). In 12th though, perhaps San is shy at first? Or at least very selective. It seems once he trusts/loves a person though, he really clings onto them (just look at the way he's glued to the other members and how he always says Yeosang is his. Venus square pluto behavior). Moon square Venus can add onto his attached and affectionate nature (though, many Leo venuses are just affectionate in general)

Uranus and Neptune in 5th makes for a creative and expressive individual. San clearly loves the arts and always expresses his passion in every performance. He may be a bit strange and unconventional, but I think that's just an artist thing in general

Pluto in 3rd explains his thoughtfulness so much! San is a little silly at times, but he seems to have a very deep side to him due to this placement. You can especially see it in the way he talks/writes in his letters to the members and fans - he writes in a way that pulls at heart strings (even I've gotten emotional at one of his letters and I'm not the type to get soft hearted so easily) and makes people reflect. It also explains his strong beliefs and opinions - he's such an advocate for authenticity. Pluto in 3rd folks have a very specific way of talking and thinking that makes them stand out.

Chiron in 3rd may make him feel insecure about the way he talks and thinks though - maybe San is going or has gone through a period of feeling misunderstood by others. A lot of Chiron in 3rd ppl do. Although he does like spending time with others, I think he may accidentally drive people away by oversharing and/or talking too much...He seems a bit intense and clingy, which may be overwhelming for others. Communication and self esteem is a struggle for many with this placement.

Being a Virgo rising, he may appear quiet and serious, observant and disciplined. Hard working with high standards. Pluto and Saturn aspect his ASC so it adds onto the natural stern energy he has.

North Node Leo in 11th is focused on building community, contributing to groups, and celebrating the individualities of others. I think he is doing a pretty good job at this as he's very encouraging and kind to others and is always advocating for people to simply be themselves.

Gemini MC can appear sociable, curious, and optimistic. San is a pretty positive person, I don't think I've seen him be negative to himself or others much...He always seem to be active on socials as he talks to ATINYs a lot. ATEEZ considered him one of the more talkative members in the group too.

___

Other Analysis:

MBTI | Enneagram

___

Masterlist

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[vvvvivi567890]

Chinese LoTM Gen Fic Recs (I)

| ★☆★☆★ | Part II >>>

(Last updated May. 17. 2024)

this is mostly to organize fics for myself, but after The Lofter Incident of Feb. 2024, i needed a place to link all the chapters instead of the first ones. theres probably gonna be multiple parts

(btw i recommend translating the whole page on google. safari mtl kinda sucks…)

compilation of compilation of fics

leoklein fic rec compilation

Klein-Centered:

What Is It Like to Be an Ancient Scholar by ninewater: 1, 2 (Last Updated: Dec. 05. 2019)

The World Wants a Hug by k70296

A Strange Dream by mhbdzty

(humor??? horror??) tbh im not sure what to make of this

A Miracle Invoker Falls From the Sky by jingjiangbushirousi: 1, 2 (END)

Angst, s2 Klein meets s9 Klein

Cats Have Nine Lives by kapuayi: 1, 2, 3 (Last Updated: Nov. 27. 2019)

Zhou Mingrui's Trial in the Brain by 2333567

When Gehrman Lost His Memories by jinyirendexiaojuchang

Nowhere to Escape in the World by ailikesitudou

Angst and minor leoklein (but can be interpreted as platonic tbh), Klein is suffering from the side effects of the death knell but he doesn't know what he's afraid of :)

Tarot Club:

He Will Sing in the Fire by juanao397: 1, 2, 3, 4 (END)

Klein is on the verge of losing control during his s1 promotion, the tarot club has to find Zhou Mingrui and wake him up

Mr. Fool Wants to Join the Chat by shanyoumuximuyouzhi798: 1, 2, 3, 4 (END)

Team building in the Hall of Truth

Does Mr. Fool Also Ask for Red Envelopes? by benguodeniunai: 1, 2 (END)

There is Such a Person by shasiajiplanbban

About Mr. Fool Losing Control of His Abilities After Waking Up by langduzhe023

The Meeting Before God Was Renamed as a Tea Party by hanpeiwen

Everyone Wants to Take Off My Vest by nenesis17

Tarot Club tries to wake up mr fool

I Know Mr. World's Secret by burklend160

Tarot Club boys (except for little sun) misunderstand some things about Mr. World

On the Way the Narrator Kills the Protagonist by fengbujuedai

Minor LeoKlein (but its mostly at the end if thats not your cup of tea), the Tarot Club's black history is exposed and Klein and Leonard's thoughts are read out loud

Everyone is Responsible for Persecuting Amon by oldsaltyfish

“So, Amon is the 'Angel of Time' who rings the bell of heaven for Mr. Fool?"

"No, He is the bell that is struck."

"?!!"

Welcome to the Doomsday Game by dblyb: 1, 2, 3, 4, (Last Updated: May. 12. 2024)

In order to ensure that earth wont be bombed in the doomsday war, the outer gods and the gods have initially reached a consensus to conduct a proxy war

Mr. Fool Said I Never Want to Celebrate My Birthday Again by irelan0706: 1, (Last Updated: Mar. 04. 2024)

Mr. Fool's Private Meeting by yangmiemie47136

Truth or dare in the Hall of Truth

Moretti Family:

A Small Piece of Lemon Cake by steelknote17

Sweet Dreams are as Good as Ever by dblyb

When Melissa Has a Boyfriend by zizaifeihuaqingsimeng37251

Heaven Goes to the Left, Moretti Goes to the Right by xinjinjumin7785283

Dinners and the Morettis are not allowed to enter the kingdom of god

Returning Home by kapuayi: 1, 2, 3 (END)

Benson and Melissa meet a Klein who has lost his memories

Summer of Tingen by abyss734

Melissa center with OG Klein

Their Brother by aizhuangkudexiaocainiao: 1, 2, (Last Updated: Mar. 08. 2024)

Benson becomes a beyonder and Gehrman moves in next door

If Benson is a Cultist by dblyb: 1, (Last Updated: Mar. 17. 2024)

Blackthorn-Security Company:

I Saw Ghosts After Becoming a Miracle Invoker by dblyb: 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10 (END)

Extra 1, 2, 3, 4 (END)

Klein meets the ghosts of the Tingen nighthawks

Seeka's Tea Party by forgetmenot

Seal Artifact 3-904 Observation Report by jingjiangbushirousi

Klein meets his future selves

Maritime Group:

The Tip of the Iceberg Emerges by wangyouwushang86832: 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10, 11, 12, 13, 14, 15, 16, 17, 18, 19 (Last Updated: Jan. 20. 2024)

Gehrman loses his memories after Groselle's Travels

Let's Swap Sequences with the "Sea Team" by xiegui54376: 1 (Last Updated: Feb. 13. 2024)

Klein and Danitz swap pathways due to an artifact (s5 hunter Klein, s6 seer Danitz)

Homecoming Group (kinda ig):

The Oracle Prohibits Illegal Outsourcing by langduzhe023

Organizing the Church of the Fool's sealed artifacts with Roselle and Amanises

3 Protagonists Gather Together by nenesis17

Leonard's portable grandpa is Roselle not Pallez

Others:

Hall of Truth Trio | The World has Nothing to Do With You by treebirdturn

Angst, post-apocalypse, everyone forgets Klein

Amon | The Great Philanthropist Mr. Amon by dblyb

"Adam gave me humanity" - Amon

Dunn | Dunn Swore to the Goddess that He Wasn't Cheating by langduzhe023: 1, 2, 3, 4, 5 (Last Updated: Apr. 11. 2022)

A resurrected Dunn meets Gehrman

Azik | God and Their Afternoon Tea Activities by mhbdzty

Post-apocalypse, naptime with Klein and Amanises

Danitz & Gehrman | How Long Does It Take to Become Gehrman by 2333567

Gehrman loses his memories for a day

Amanises | Suppose the Cat Disappears From the World by nenesis17

[pinkrelish]

𝐰𝐢𝐬𝐡 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐰𝐞𝐫𝐞 𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞.

bestfriend!eddie x fem!reader

✶After a week from Hell, Eddie turns to you for comfort.✶

NSFW — one bed trope, spooning, cuddling, comfort, domestic fluff, calling eddie pet names, sexual tension, heavy angst towards the end, eddie munson needs a hug, 18+ overall for smut, drug/alcohol mention/use

chapter: 11/15 [wc: 8.6k]

↳ part 01 / 02 / 03 / 04 / 05 / 06 / 07 / 08 / 09 / 10 / 11

AO3

Chapter 11: Two Lost Souls, Crossing

“Hey.”

All your hard work, all your sacrifices; whatever means necessary to ensure the person you held in the highest regard was taken care of; it all paid off. Awake–awake–awake for more hours than four turns of a clock. Pencil lead smudged on the ridges of your calluses. Staring at words in a textbook until they rearranged themselves. Closing your eyes in camera flashes of sleep.

“Are you awake?”

Pain wove its spindly fingers around your knee. You tightened the bandage and fixed your determined gaze ahead, jaw clenched in an immense display of fortitude. No one would know. Ice it, warm it, ice it, warm it. Whatever means necessary to finish the routine. To steel yourself against Coach’s shouting, against Kat’s sideways glance, against your manager who tapped her watch when you were two minutes late. You shouldn’t be at work tonight–Steve could call you at any moment with an update–but tonight was the start of the weekend, and the start of the weekend meant flirting with drunk boys who came to the diner in search of greasy food to serve their rolling stomachs. Boys who dressed like their rich dads. Boys who liked your short uniform, muscular legs, and ditzy facade. Boys who showed their gratitude when you bent over the bartop. Weekends meant eating all your meals for free, straight from the griddle, saving the rolls of money in your pocket for Eddie.

“Can I hold you?”

Dustin called. You walked out of your midterm and submitted your letter of withdrawal to your academic advisor. Kat asked where you were going. Coach chased your car. You drove. You drove. You swallowed pills. You drove. You bartered for fake plates, an ID. You took out the rest of the cash to your name. You drove, bought supplies, rented a car, called the Wheeler’s from a payphone, and spoke to Nancy. You were free. Hallucinating in the haze between sleep and awake. Going, going. Deprived of anything not related to your goal. On top of the world. You could do it all.

“N-Need to hold you.”

Dwelling in the giggly pleasure thrumming in your veins, your boneless body was accepted by the motel bed, head crashing through time and space to be cushioned by the pillow below. Roving the dimension between drunken insomnolence pseudo-euphoria and the sound of Eddie’s shower beating on his skin a few feet away. Eddie. Your perfect Eddie. He was safe. Taken care of. Getting rest tonight for the first time in days, just like you.

I’m so sorry, I’m so sorry, I’m so sorry.

“Mm?” Too much beer lulling you to the edge of a deep slumber–as if you were six feet under, being slowly raised to the surface. “Ed?” You recognized the general pitch of the voice whispering beside your ear, but nothing more. Not the pressure on the side of your face, nor the reason you struggled to fill your lungs. Unrecognizable closeness. Couldn’t be. Not him.

“S-Sorry,” he mumbled from above you. Strands of your hair pulled with his movement, clinging to the shared sticky wetness smearing your cheeks. Hot breath dampening where his mouth trailed, “M’sorry. I–just need to hold you. Just need to hold you.”

Just need to hold you, vibrated the entirety of your back snug against his chest, cradled in his impressive embrace. Face squished on his arm, tilted to meet him, with his forehead bearing down on your cheek, keeping the bridge of his nose locked to the edge of your jaw. One of his hands petted the top of your head in heavy strokes. You weren’t sure which one, confused by the scramble of limbs preventing you from grounding yourself in the already strange context you woke up in.

A far cry from sober, words tumbled from your mouth in a clumsy arrangement, “Baby, mm–what’s wrong?” Either he didn’t hear you, or he wasn’t allayed; repeating he was sorry for touching you. You found one of his sleeve-covered forearms and worked your way up to the meat of his shoulder. “Baby?” The backs of your nails glided over the stubble on his chin, and he responded with a whine.

Twisting in his vice grip, your exploration ended at his temple. Sweeping the fringe stuck to his forehead away from his eyes, continuing to comb the wet waves behind his ear, until your thumb rested in the hollow beside his brow bone, and your fingers curved to his skull, collecting him to the comfort of your body.

The scent of your shampoo roused from his scalp. He was so sweet.

You spoke into the shared air above your entanglement, “It’s okay, Eddie. I’m here. You can hold me.”

And so, he did. With the remainder of his strength, no longer having to put on a brave face in front of his friends, he held you, and shook from a cry.

“It’s okay to hold me,” you slurred through the effects of a 40oz beer, of a caffeine crash, of a cataphor. “Friends can do this. Friends can hold each other. Feels nice, doesn’t it? I’m here, Eddie. You can hold me. I’m here.” He choked on a wet sob of a sentence, question, or word, you weren’t sure. It was hard to understand him. “Babe?”

“Can you–” His volume wavered incredibly high, shot and croaky, and it broke your heart to listen to him fight through it. “–Tell me about a normal day.”

“Like what I do at school?”

He nodded into the crook of your neck, escaping deeper–where the collar of your shirt had been stretched out by accident–shying from your fingers attempting to sooth him. You respected his boundaries, and instead hooked your hands around his forearm pressed over your breasts. “Want to hear you talk,” he said.

Least to say, you rambled, “Since Coach proposed me testing into Elite, my schedule changed. Now I wake up at 4:30 to work on essays, or presentations before going to the gym for morning practice. We start with a run outside, then do vault and floor to get the power exercises out the way when we’re fresh. I go to class after that. I sit in the first row, and make nice with my professors. Hard to believe, but I’m kind of a teacher’s pet. Always volunteering to help them with whatever. Way different than when we were in class together, huh? Sometimes I feel bad for all the teachers we tormented over the years.. Um, after that class I have an hour break before the next one, and evening practice after that. I spend my break at the library doing schoolwork. We have uneven bars and beam at night, then conditioning, or we go over routines and choreography if it’s near a meet. Around 11 I go to work, and come home at 3, unless it’s the weekend.”

“Sleep?”

You caressed small circles along his arm, scrunching his sleeve under the work of your thumbs. “I like taking care of you.” Avoiding his question was all the confirmation he needed.

An involuntary whimper spurned from his taut lips stretched into a silent cry. “You quit school to deal with my bullshit. Work so hard to send m-me money. Pay–ing our bills. I didn’t even call when I could’ve. Did–n’t even write you back–I’m so sorry, I’m so God–fucking–sorry–”

You shushed him, “You can’t blame yourself for not being perfect.”

“You don’t get it–!” No, you guessed you didn’t get it. His guilt was consuming him faster than his mind could parse, expelling stunted sentences too hard to follow. “I ran away. I watched them die and I ran away.”

Wayne discovered Chrissy. Coming home from work, expecting a blast of warm air from the space heater his nephew brought out on chilly nights, was instead greeted by a dead girl crumpled on his floor.

Jason witnessed the same horror and saved his friend’s body from becoming fish food. Swam him to shore, traumatized. Staring out over the calm waters. Holding Patrick. Babbling incoherent prayers.

Eddie withdrew his face from your neck. His exhale sent a ripple of goosebumps over the moisture running to your nape. From the corner of your barely-separated lashes, his complexion appeared sickly under the pale blue hue from the TV, tears gathering in the sunken purplish skin underneath his eyes. “If it were you..” he said, voice jumpy, and brittle. “If I knew someone watched you die and ran away.. I would never forgive them.”

He dropped his hand to the curve of your cheek, dragging his thumb in downward swipes to the corner of your mouth, touching you with undue gentleness despite the ever present shake of underlying rage.

It was the type of affection you put your livelihood on the line for. But finally experiencing it, it was overwhelming in the heat of the moment. Hearing your best friend imply an anger that churned your stomach, stirring a familiar memory of dread in you, all the while, chancing the introduction of the pad of his thumb beyond a place where friends explored.

Paused, you took a breath. His thumb followed the threshold of your bottom lip.

You remembered where you’d seen this anger before.

He wore the same expression when you stood across from him in the parking lot of Starcourt Mall on the evening you returned to Hawkins for the first time in three years.

Eddie hovered above your parted lips, compelling you to meet his unnerving gaze, and he stated evenly, with conviction, “If I knew someone watched you die and left you there, I would hate them.”

Oh, Eddie. Sweet boy. Pushed to his brink and all he could fantasize about was hating another person.

You weren’t so submissive. An undying dynamic: he was the bark, you were the bite.

Motioning to be released, he eased up on his grip over your chest, and watched you grab the corner of the bedsheet, wrap it around your fingers and hold it to him for his approval. It wasn’t a touch. There was a layer between you. It was permitted. But there was no mistaking what this actually was. Especially when he closed his eyes, and leaned into it.

You flattened your palm to cup his cheek, and matched the way his thumb moved in slow strokes starting at the apex of his sharp cheekbone to the allure of his full lips. Calming him. Patting the sheet over his distinct features, from the subtle pinch between his brows, down to spots you knew were dry, just for the luxury of immersing yourself in the warmth of his neck. To detect the expanse of his swallow hitch beneath his pulse. To learn the bliss of his damp hair cascading in stringy curls from behind his ear, gliding over your knuckles, acting as a curtain around your nearly-joined faces.

As his confession sank in, you were inspired to communicate a devotion of your own, “If someone took you away from me.. I’d do everything in my power to get you back.”

His anger vanished. Replaced by something tender.

Residing in dangerous territory, he sniffled while you finished mopping the damp fabric around your clavicle, looking down at you with strange curiosity.

“In time, you’ll forgive yourself,” you encouraged him. In an idyllic world, it was the truth, in reality, you’d traverse Hell hand-in-covered-hand with him regardless. “And whatever happens, I’ll always be there for you. I mean that. Whatever means necessary, I’ll take care of you.”

Although he regained some semblance of composure, his forehead wrinkled upon uttering another apology. “I’m sorry for yelling at you earlier about your future. You’ve done so much for me, sacrificed so much for me, and I yelled at you.”

“It’s okay, baby.”

Taking his time, he traced the outline of your body where he deemed appropriate with a touch so delicate it could be confused for the gossamer beat of a moth's wings, and grabbed above your elbow, wrinkling the oversized cotton t-shirt under his palm. He opened his mouth, and stopped. Gave you a significant squeeze first, and struggled to explain, “I-I sounded like my dad.. I didn’t like it. I didn’t mean to..”

Your neck hurt from the angle you were bent in to watch his eyes study your kind expression. He shifted, sitting up slightly above you, slotting his legs into the hollow your knees created. Trusting the curve of your shoulder with the weight of his chest, relying on you to keep him steady. Eddie acknowledged, “You do everything for me.”

“It’s been a long couple of days, hasn’t it?”

“Yeah,” he groaned.

“We should get some sleep, don’t you think?”

“Apparently the Upside Down is stuck a few years in the past. I saw your trailer across from mine. It was weird.”

You rubbed the underside of his arm where your other hand was wedged. “I think we should sleep, handsome.” The ever-creeping exhaustion you circumvented for months came knocking, and the payment was lofty. “I’m sorry, I can’t stay awake for much longer.”

“Okay,” he whispered, nodding. There may have been a passing thought of a deeper affection developing in the prominent shadow beneath his bottom lip, but his next question was better than any delusion you could ascribe to his pout. The idea he posed was real. “Can I still hold you like this?”

The force of a thousand yeses resonated in your lungs. You strangled them with a friendly smile, resorting to a wall mannered, tempered, “Yeah.”

Arms locked over arms. A considerable embrace. Each breath joining where the small of your back fit to his stomach. Sharing the same pillow. Holding you until the last of his tears dried. Counting the minutes in the patterns he traced along your bicep, in infomercials droning beyond the bond of your two bodies rocking together, in cycles of doors slamming from the other tenants of the motel. Passing red blazes of the digital alarm clock flicking to a new hour in tranquil hums and whispered affirmations.

For you, it could’ve been seconds, you were out the instant he nuzzled himself comfortably to the modest halo of your hair. For him, he knew it was to be hours until he felt relief.

~~~

Roused from sleep, coldness had settled in the pocket of covers surrounding you. Eddie’s additional warmth was missing. You opened your eyes one at a time, squinting from the bloodshot burn. His arm laid outstretched and limp, still trapped beneath your head, palm turned up, and fingers curled towards the ceiling. The room was lit in the dull orange glow of the bathroom light, and flickering tints of a studio audience ‘oohing’ and ‘aahing’ over a knife that could cut through a tin can of peas.

Lifting your face, you were glad to remember he was wearing sleeves due to the dark spot of drool you left behind–but now you wondered, what was he wearing? The article of clothing smelled leagues better than his four day old, twice rinsed, Hellfire shirt.

Making small moans of comfort, you turned over, and in doing so, brought yourself into the crook of his body as he laid on his back. Blankets kicked halfway down the bed. Chest rising and falling with shallow breaths.

There were raised letters on the sweatshirt.

Loopy, and a bit out of it, you put your forefinger to the words and traced their lines idly. You recognized your school’s typography by the second one, but you kept going, wanting to prolong acquainting yourself with his sleek muscles. Feeling their faint contractions when he inhaled deep through his nose, and their softness when he exhaled a long sigh.

“I figured–” You jumped at his voice, and he let out a gentle laugh. “I figured you’d taken enough of my clothes, you wouldn’t mind me taking something of yours.”

Having an impressive capacity for shame, you collected your hands to yourself and peered up at him from the slope of his bicep. His puffy eyes were open to slivers, and he held a lighthearted nature around his mouth as he tucked his chin to grin at you, showing you it was okay. There was nothing to be ashamed of.

You asked, “Did I wake you?”

The smile lines framing either side of lips gave him a sort of devious characteristic–favoring the right side more than left–but his answer lacked the humor he tried to force; remorseful, almost, to disappoint you, “Haven’t been able to fall asleep.”

Your heart wrenched at that. All you wanted was to bring this man comfort.

Perhaps it was spontaneity taking over in the bizarre series of events that brought you two together again, and the mutual understanding in your body language after nearly two decades of friendship, but you listened to your impulses. Or perhaps it was the excitement sending his eyebrows a tic higher when you closed in on his face that had you acting rasher.

“What about this?” you asked. It was an innocent thing; laying your head to rest on the plane between his chest and shoulder, perfectly shaped to cradle your cheek. “Does this help?”

His answer danced across your hair, “Yeah.”

“And if I put my hand here, does that help?” Timid, you broached the newness of your arm wrapped around him, flitting your nervous fingers over the thick sweatshirt, and forming your hand to his waist on the other side. Occupying your entire reach by the boy you fell for long ago.

“Yeah, that helps..” Eddie appeared to be experiencing the same bout of bravery. “Can I put my hand here?” he asked, voice delightfully gravelly even in the absence of sleep.

His demonstration set off a chain of muscles reacting under you. Tilting your cheek up to where you could admire his jawline and chin. Shifting his arm, encompassing the width of your back, and settling his hand on your waist, between your ribs and the rise of your hip. His Adam’s apple edged another rhetorical question from his throat. “Is this okay?”

“Yeah, it’s okay.” Beyond okay.

Hesitant, he put his cheek to the top of your head, testing the position with jumpy uneven pressure before relaxing into it.

It was bliss. Perfection.

Reciprocation.

In an act of profound vulnerability, you threw your leg over his, and he responded in kind, hugging you tight; accepting the consequences of waking up like this, sound of mind, at a later date.

Except.. ‘hugging’ was underemphaiszing the ardency at which he clung to you.

When you lowered your bare leg between his–alighting your every nerve with the tingly sensation of his wispy hair gliding across your smooth skin–he countered in more ways than just turning out his knee to better accommodate your inner thigh. Eddie reveled in the cuddle.

The moment he realized why the covers were rustling, he rolled his lips inward, and made a split decision. He clasped the underside of your arm lounging across his belly and pulled you into him. Rocking you, just the once, into his frame, and constricting his possessive grip on your waist tenfold, ensuring you could not roll away. Allowing you–if not, forcing you–to drape your body over his.

It was as if you were designed to be part of him.

You nestled into all the nooks he created. He ground his cheek into the top of your head with confidence.

Your oversized shirt rode up to immodest levels, but even with your thighs spread and his hip wedged between them, those sorts of indecent thoughts did not cross your mind. This was about you and him, and taking solace in your best friend. Helping each other through a difficult time. You held him, and he held you. He held you until his strength ebbed, and his muscles twitched, and his breathing slowed, and his soft groans increased.

Eddie was a vocal sleeper.

The first moan caught you off guard, humming into your hair. Exhaling a sigh across your scalp. Moving his lips in a murmur on your forehead like a sequence of chaste kisses. His mouth opened and closed in silent conversation, and his scratchy stubble from being unable to shave for days grazed you. You loved knowing these things about him. Less enthused to discover if he was a drooler, but you were willing to suffer finding out first hand.

A new infomercial started, blaring its upbeat tune, and your eyes grew heavy listening to Eddie’s sleep sounds. Another groan from his chest where you had your ear pressed. Deeper, more frequent moans. Harder huffs, swallows, rolls of his tongue. You were drifting asleep when he was jolted awake by his own sudden snore.

You couldn’t help it. You craned to look up at him, and laughed.

Stirring, he closed his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose. “Sorry. Can’t really sleep on my back because–yeah–snoring. I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay,” you giggled. “Was cute.”

“S’not a compliment when you find everything I do cute, sweetheart,” he grumbled, taking his arm back, and turning over, pulling away enough that your hand hung in the air between your bodies and your leg hit the lonesome sheet.

The shared night of weakness could’ve ended there, in the great expanse of his existence separating from you, you could’ve coped with that.. But it was Eddie who gave you a sign as old as time: he reached under his neck, gathered his frizzy waves, and swept them to his side of the pillow.

You spooned him gladly. Warming the front of your thighs with the back of his, sealing your hips together, brushing your hand over his soft stomach, and nosing into his shoulder blades.

He lazed into you. Placed his naked hand over yours and brought it to the middle of his chest, spreading your fingers to his sternum, and letting go. He whispered into the artificially bright, restless dead of night, “Thank you.. for everything.”

“Told you, Eddie,” you dragged your lips over the sweatshirt stretched across his back, “I’d do anything for you.”

~~~

When Eddie awoke next, he was met with a confusing array of sensations upon rolling over in the motel bed alone. A sight for sore eyes, included.

“Well, good mornin’, handsome.”

Blazing morning sun penetrated the seam of the curtains next to the door, outlining you in a hellacious glow. You stood with one foot resting in the chair behind you, looking down at the table as you poured water into a bowl and stirred with a fork, beating on the sides, sending a puff of powdery dust into the narrow sunbeams. The air was humid and smelled of cooked sugar. Your silhouette clung to the baggy t-shirt you wore, and he knew he shouldn’t stare–morally because you were his friend, but also immorally because he was only wearing boxers beneath the bundle of bedding he collected to his lap. You were impossible to look away from. Domestic and ethereal. A true fantasy he longed for. An intoxicating comfort. Eating cold pizza with one hand, pouring the contents of the bowl into a hot skillet with the other, and grabbing a spatula. Ensuring his needs were met before your own. Affording him rest beyond relaxation.

If your lives were different, would this be a normalcy he could attain? Would he be able to do the same for you?

“You’re a heavy sleeper, you know that? Probably all the loud music you listen to. I couldn’t wake you for shit. But hey, you got plenty of beauty sleep, and it shows.”

You hit him with a radiant smile and he swore his heart stopped. It most definitely didn’t on account of the blood rushing to his cheeks, but he swore it did.

He found his slumber-drunk raspy voice, and asked while sitting up, “What’re you doing?”

“Makin’ us breakf’st,” you replied with a lighthearted crease between your brows and tilted grin. Swallowing, you held up the stiff slice of pizza. “Got hungry waiting for you. Y’know, it’s something I noticed a while back. When I’m in town, I always get the best sleep, and it’s like I remember how fucking hungry and thirsty I am.”

“Gee, I wonder if it’s because you suck at taking care of yourself unless I’m there to remind you.”

You flipped the pancake. Scrape. Splat. Sizzle. “You’re the one who said you’d have breakfast made for me in the morning,” you lilted. He recalled the particular phone conversation and pulled a childish sneer to cover the pang of hurt. He wanted to provide for you like a proper man, but.. now he couldn’t, and it was another painful reminder he may never get the chance to. “Looks like I’m still the one taking care of you, Munson. Gotta pick it up on your end of the deal. Do you still like your eggs scrambled?”

Ouch. Eddie didn’t know what to make of the banter. Back to your usual dynamic? Going to pretend last night didn’t happen? He guessed so, with how hard you refused to make eye contact unless it was fueled by a snarky comeback.

“Over easy, actually,” he corrected you in a gentle tone. You plopped the last pancake on top of the stack, and pried open the cardboard egg carton, cracking a few into the skillet. “So.. You really prepared to be here for a while, huh?”

You gave him a sly glance, and turned off the hotplate. “Don’t tell my RA I had this in my dorm.. Or my roommate that I stole it from her.” Closing the carton, you walked over to the mini fridge to put it away. Which was, of course, next to the chest of drawers, in perfect view of him when you bent over.

Jesus Christ.

He placed his pillow in his lap and made due with the wood headboard supporting his sore back. Oh, how he missed being as mentally exhausted as he was last night, having no libido to speak of, too numbed to speculate if you were wearing shorts, or, much less, underwear.

Definitely no to the shorts. Maybe to the panties. Probably not to the bra.

Goddamn he was a fucking pervert.

To keep himself busy, he grabbed the glass of water you left for him on the nightstand and gulped down the pain relievers beside it.

“Here,” you said, handing him his plate of food. Awkwardly, he accepted it without looking at you, and set it on top of the pillow, focusing his attention on the game show playing on TV. Totally not on your clumsy way of climbing into bed with him. “Oh, great idea!” You copied him by putting your pillow in your lap with your plate, treating it like a romantic breakfast-in-bed tray, and began eating.

Please, God have mercy and take him now before he resurrected a shrine dedicated to the strip of skin your bunched shirt revealed at the crease of your hip and thigh.

Steering his mind to a different subject, Eddie voiced a question he’d been speculating on for months, “Don’t waitresses make shit money? How do you afford to send me so much with your loans and stuff?”

“Maybe I took your advice and started stripping.”

The over easy egg flopped off his fork.

“Eddie, I’m kidding.” He snapped his mouth shut. “But, maybe..” you continued, rocking your head back and forth, “Maybe the diner allows us to pick between a blouse and pants for a uniform, or a dress, and I chose the dress. And maybe I hemmed it a few inches shorter. And maybe from Friday through Sunday all the rich assholes at school like to come in after a night of drinking, and maybe they like it when I drop something in front of their table, or reach for a straw across the bartop, or wear their favorite color.” Flicking your gaze to your disorganized suitcase with the nice lingerie piled between old thrifted tees and hand-me-down jeans from other girls on the gymnastics team, he followed the implication.

Taking forever to cut a triangle into the pancake you were eating, you asked, “Do you think less of me?”

“No, no, it’s..” Hot. Sexy. Drives me fucking wild, babe. “Honorable in my books. Whatever earns you money, sweetheart. I mean, I sell drugs, so..” He raised his shoulders while buzzing his lips. “I’m not exactly the best judge of character here.”

You laughed it off with him. “Yeah, dunno why I was scared to tell you.”

“Never in a million years would I think badly about you..” he trailed off, shaking his head absentmindedly at the TV, using his knuckle to wipe a string of syrup from his chin and sucking the sweet substance off his finger. “Not you. Not after everything you’ve done for me.”

He could tell you were searching his face, but he wasn’t ready to confront you yet.

“You say that like you don’t do the same for me.. Eddie, do you really think you don’t do the same for me?” Your voice was small in comparison to the studio audience screaming to be picked for The Price Is Right.

“Inadequate would be the better way to put it,” he said, slipping into a lower resonance. “Pretty obvious I’m not graduating high school. Never had a real job. Not going anywhere at this point in my life, except for jail.” Almost a repeat of his speech when you dropped him off at his trailer so many months ago, hanging onto the same insecurities. “Can’t do all the things I said I’d do for you.”

The loud ting of your fork clattering on your roommate’s chipped ceramic plate rang in his ears. “Yeah, well, neither of us are following our five-year plan, so, suck it up.” Ignoring his glare, you leaned into his arm, and looked him dead in the eyes as you delivered an endearment straight to his heart, “I’m sorry you’ve ever been made to feel like you’re not good enough, because the sheer fact you think me playing DND with you wasn’t the highlight of my life upsets me more than you know.”

Caught off guard under your precious gaze, he faltered, “You liked playing with us?”

“No greater joy on Earth than watching you work your magic on something you're passionate about.” Feeling silly, you tapped your forehead on his shoulder, and sat up to finish your breakfast. “Don’t get me wrong, I absolutely love listening to you play with your band, but that’s all I can do. Listen. With DND, I actually get to participate in the story you created. Something you sank so much time into researching, planning, and writing.. Plus, I’d be lying if I didn’t admit embarrassing you in front of the guys brings me immense amounts of pleasure.”

“Figures,” he muttered around the pancake mush in his mouth.

“Do you think they’ll let us play in Visitation when I come see you in jail?” He stared vacantly at you through his disheveled hair. You explained, “Dungeons and Dragons. Do you think they’ll let us–?”

“You’d be in jail too, you know that, right?” He pointed to himself. “Fugitive.”

“Oh. Right.”

Bounce by bounce, you nodded at each other. Dipping your heads in unison again and again. Eyebrows on the rise. Lips wrested together. You’d swear on your grave he broke first, and he’d swear on his coffin you cracked before he did. Regardless, he snorted, and you released the worst, most witchy cackle, which only made you laugh harder.

Holding his tongue between his teeth, Eddie slouched against the headboard and rolled his head to the side, watching your face scrunch with giggles. Basking in your light. Knowing he granted you this brief happiness. Enamored with the person he would go through great lengths to protect, no matter the cost.

It felt so good to pretend things were normal again, in whatever capacity that meant.

You drank in his appearance. “Why’re you looking at me like that?”

“Like what?”

“Dunno,” you offered lamely. “Like.. I dunno. Like you’re way too happy to be holed up in a motel with me, hiding from the Law.”

Smitten. That’s what his expression was, smitten. And he became all too aware you were catching on–catching onto his feelings, cocking your head the longer he went silent, losing the humor on your lips. Suspicious. Peering at him.

Rearranging his face to something neutral, he smothered his inner self from surfacing. “Just like making you laugh, is all.”

“How sweet.” You pinched his arm through the sweatshirt. “Did you want coffee? They have some in the front office. I’ll go get it for you.” You took his empty plate and set it on the table with yours, leaving the chore of washing them for later.

“Coffee sounds good.”

Eddie waited until you were past the mirror to pry his eyes from his dry cuticles, taking a severe interest in what you were grabbing from your suitcase. He sucked in his cheek and chewed it as you chose an outfit, along with a set of burgundy underwear, holding the bra up by the strap in full view of him. And he paid far too much attention to you coming out of the bathroom a few minutes later and tossing your white t-shirt–by itself–in the corner, thus solving his quandary on whether you were wearing anything under it.

“Shoot,” you exhaled, plucking a skinny package out of your suitcase and showing it to him. “I bought you a toothbrush, and forgot to set it out for you. My bad.”

Blinking a few times, the information weaved its way into his brain receptors. He dropped his gaze to the toothbrush, and lingered on it, contemplating his actions last night. “Thanks,” he said, taking his secret to the grave.

“I’ll just put it next to mine.”

“Yep.”

“Be right back with your coffee.”

“Yep.”

You shut the door behind you and he was off to the races.

The matching sweatpants to your sweatshirt splayed obvious in the mess he created when looking for clothes to wear. But as he felt them, he realized the material was too thin. He needed something.. much thicker to aid in keeping him modest. He needed his normal jeans. Even if they were disgusting.

Stepping foot in the bathroom, he looked around, baffled. His clothes weren’t on the floor where he expected them to be. Rags stained with black goop sat in piles. Dirty water splotches dried on every surface. On the countertop were his accessories resting in perfect lines on a towel. Shiny rings, his guitar pick necklace, pants chain, bracelet. He didn’t remember taking them off, but they were there, and they were scrubbed to a polish.

Everything else hung over the shower curtain rod. Washed with bar soap to the best of your ability and dried using the hair dryer dangling from its cord plugged in by the light switch.

His jeans were stiff, stretching over his thighs. He worked his boxers down the legs, and adjusted himself quickly. Button, zipper, next. He grabbed the back collar of the sweatshirt and pulled it over his head, grimacing at the crackling static causing his hair to stand on end.

The Hellfire Club logo stood bright against the dingy white background. His socks, however, fared a worse fate. The fact you even tried to wash them made you a Saint in his eyes.

He dressed himself and looked in the mirror.

A few of the cuts around his neck had begun to heal. Less swollen and red now. Face still puffy–his eyes more so. Probably should’ve shaved before he got into this mess. His mustache was coming in faster than anything else.

Eddie was a different man than he was last week, but he felt normal again. Clean, donning his usual Friday outfit like he belonged in it; not like a costume.

Smoothing his hair down and giving his bangs that perfect messy aesthetic, he brushed his teeth–with his own toothbrush–and turned off the light right as you came back.

“Hey, handsome,” you called out to him casually, placing your thermos on the table. “Didn’t know how much sugar you wanted, so I grabbed a handful. Oh–!” You turned around, seeing him for the first time wandering out of the bathroom. His steps were shy. Clumsy. Cradling his fingers and digging his thumbnail into the joint where his black ring would reside if he were wearing it. Embarrassed to be the subject of your avid grin. “Handsome, indeed.” When his reservation grew awkward, you made finger guns at the table. “Your coffee.”

“You didn’t have to go through the trouble of washing my clothes for me.”

“How many times do I have to tell you I'd do anything for you until you believe me?”

“Yeah, but you woke up early to–”

“Shush,” you dismissed him. “I’m probably going back to sleep anyway. Didn’t really think to bring a deck of cards, or any board games, so unless you want me to recite The Hobbit to you, I’m just gonna watch TV.” Taking off your shoes, you climbed into bed, and snuggled under the covers. Not so discreetly towards the middle of the mattress.

Eddie mumbled a few things to himself–you heard the whistle of his ‘s’s fly past his teeth–and he joined you. Closer to the middle than on his side. Sipping his coffee. Staring holes into the TV. Program after program. Gameshow after talkshow after soap opera. Inching closer, and closer beside you. Submerging into the familiar domain of your body. Plummeting, depending on you.

Sinking.

Drowning.

Swimming.

Able to breathe.

Coffee forgotten. Only your embrace.

————

“Aw, they look so cute,” he mocked.

“Do we have to wake them?” she begged him not to.

Steve removed his hands from his hips and kicked the side of the mattress. “Get up, lovebirds.” Robin gave him a scathing look.

You were the first to frown at their sudden appearance. Screwing your face up with a groan after being disturbed from your precious sleep. Then, you struggled to find the reason why you couldn’t move your head, or the source of the brunette veil stuck to your lashes, invading your mouth on the inhale.

You sputtered. “Eddie, Goddamnit.”

All his nudging in the right direction must’ve worked. Steve watched the scene unfold with sincere affection in spite of his pain. His airy grunt met resistance from the doctored wound on his stomach when you realized your hand was clasped around Eddie’s bicep. His trembling fingers calmed seeing you touch his friend with such gentleness. His racing heart slowed when you shook Eddie’s chest, repeated his name, and he awoke; and his first instinct was to gaze down at you from his slouched position against the pillows as if no one else in the room existed.

The blood splitting Steve’s chapped lips was nothing to consider when his friend’s mouth twitched from nerves into a sheepish grin, and he whispered a lighthearted apology for falling asleep on the girl of his dreams.

Eddie rubbed at the pink spot he earned on his cheek from resting atop your head. “Sorry, didn’t mean to.. Why’d you wake me, sweetheart?” Too enraptured by your proximity, he was oblivious to his surroundings.

“Have an eventful night?” Robin cut in.

Steve opted for more tact, “If you two are decent under there, we can get down to business once the others get here.”

Bristling at the presumption, Eddie recovered from his surprise and sat up. “It’s not what it looks like.”

You were less vocal. Swinging your legs over the side of the bed and shoving your feet into your shoes, cleaning up the chairs for people to sit in later. Hunched with your back facing them, hiding in your task, only interrupting your dispirited efforts when Robin volunteered to help.

Steve, on the other hand, furrowed his eyebrows in a perplexed knot, a bit taken back by his serious–adamant–drop it tone. What was with him when it came to you?

He followed Eddie into the doorway of the bathroom.

“So, uh..” He shrugged his crossed arms. “Not what it looks like, huh?”

“Curiosity piqued, or do you have a habit of butting into other people’s affairs?” Eddie asked without emotion, sliding his rings on unhurriedly. The buzz of the fluorescent lights persisted. The faucet dripped. The hair dryer swayed on its cord. Sensing Steve was not satisfied by his remark, he lifted his gaze to the mirror, and when their eyes met, he crumbled under the pressure of his well intentions.

Regarding the shadows moving along the furthest wall, Eddie jerked his head for Steve to enter and close the door behind him, shutting out the two voices exchanging excited gasps over who-knows-what.

In private, Eddie was substantially more honest and divulging.

“Man to man,” Steve implored in an exhausted sigh.

“Nothing happened.” Eddie struggled to align the snaps on his bracelet, and Steve, without a moment of hesitation, stepped forward and did the clasp for him. “We’re just friends.”

Keeping his voice down, he imparted wisdom, “That’s not how you look at a friend when you wake up next to them, dude.”

“It’s just.. different between us. For the longest time, all we had to rely on was each other, not whatever shit excuses for parents we had. Then she left me for a better life, and now that she’s immolating everything she worked for to be here, I don’t want to make things worse. If you haven’t noticed, bad luck seems to follow me lately. Like a damned Wraith.” Eddie fed his belt through the loops on his jeans, spacing out, staring at nothing as he waded through the scenarios in his head. “I can’t do that to her.”

Though Steve was listening, he couldn’t help but notice Eddie’s habit of wringing his bicep where you were holding him before, savoring the imprint of warmth your hand left behind.

“I think you should tell her.”

“And then what?” Eddie’s hair flared about him as he untucked it from the collar of his leather jacket. “She knows, and then what? I imagine you didn’t magically come up with a fool-proof plan overnight where we defeat Vecna and exonerate my name and we all go back to living our lives without repercussions. I’m done for regardless of what happens here, man. She doesn’t deserve that. It’s better this way. For her.”

Steve reached behind him and turned the knob, cracking open the door and letting your voice flood in from across the room. He said, “Just consider it,” with a small smile and matured kindness in his eyes.

Eddie finished putting on his Reeboks, and walked past the window, spotting Nancy and the kids making their way through the woods in the early afternoon sun.

“Oh, yeah,” Robin added to Eddie, “We took care of your van before coming here, so if we’re a little frazzled, that’s why.” She swung her arms, clapping her fist into her hand. “You ever been in a police chase before? I haven’t until a few hours ago and boy! Was it somethin’.”

“Actually, we have.” Eddie shrugged.

You were quick to douse their bewildered looks. “Well, I wouldn’t call it a chase. More like a crawl. We didn’t hear the sirens because we were playing music too loud.”

“And we were a little high, and thought the lights were pretty, so we didn’t stop.”

“The hell is wrong with you two,” Steve used his ‘disappointed parent’ voice, then softened to whisper for a certain someone to hear as he was passing by, “You two were made for each other.”

Sitting on the appropriate sides of the bed an appropriate distance apart, you and Eddie turned your attention to the opening window, and influx of bodies in the small room.

Nancy threw you the car keys, and as a group, they shared the vague details of the plan they’d come up with while the kids scoured the room for treats, guzzling down a pack of soda and scarfing three entire boxes of Honey Buns to themselves.

You heard their need for a bigger car, their groans for real weapons, and you observed Eddie’s distress when they mentioned going back into the Upside Down, clenching the duvet to his fist.

“Weapons?” he ruminated, deep in thought.

“Guns and stuff,” Nancy said. “Supplies.”

Having the same revelation at the same time, you and Eddie turned to each other, got a little too excited you were on the same page, and both checked your nightstands.

“Bible,” you called out, slamming the drawer closed.

“Yellowpages.” Eddie held up the thick phonebook and flopped it on the bed, thumbing to the ‘W’ section. The rest of the group flocked to him for insight, but your focus was on the thin page trembling in his grip. How he smashed his finger to the advertisement to disguise the shake overtaking his body. His near-constant stammer to his jittery words rising on anxious warbles.

You remained quiet in the wake of dread settling in your stomach.

It didn’t take long for everyone to view Eddie in a new light. Redeemed from a problem child in need of rescuing, to a leader as he used his curious set of skills to rectify their issues one by one. “The trailer park isn’t far from here. If we go through the woods, I can score us a vehicle.”

“I’m starting to learn these woods better than my own house,” Steve muttered.

Max peeled one headphone back, and filled her lungs with a steady breath as she seldom made eye contact with those around her. “So.. We’re splitting into groups, then? I’ll lure out Vecna at the Creel’s house, while you guys go into the Upside Down. Distract the bats, kill Vecna’s body. Whatever.” Treating it as some Sunday afternoon, she raised her shoulder like what she uttered wasn’t a big deal, and made to leave through the window with Lucas in tow, who was trying to convince her to be reasonable.

She was having none of it, and dropped the curtain on his face instead of holding it back for him.

“Well, I guess that’s that,” Steve said pointlessly. He waved his arms at the other kids to follow suit, escorting them like a mother duck into a line. Hanging behind until it was him securing the window pane up for Robin.

You made it all the way to the end of the bed with the intent to follow them before you were blocked.

“Ed?” Your tone had a shade of warning to it. He may not have said anything yet, but you knew what was coming. The evidence etched itself in his wide eyes, in his rigid stance, in his tendons flexing in his throat as his strategic mind struggled to conjure a compelling argument against you coming along.

“You should stay here with the car. Wait by the phone, just in case something goes wrong, or we need something you can get.”

In for the kill, you asked bluntly, “And after Warzone? Hm, Eddie?” You took a step closer to him and sank into your hip, tilting your head to the side, putting him under the scrutiny of your gaze just to watch him squirm. “What team am I on in the Upside Down?”

Robin, thinking quickly, tried to assuage his fears. “She can be a decoy with you and Dustin, she doesn’t have to go with us to Vecna.”

Eddie had a response readied on his tongue, and you invalidated it immediately.

“I seem to recall you saying I’d be a lot of help down there, so why not let me go?”

Seconds passed in the flutter of his lashes, in rapid beats of his heart pounding a visible pulse under his thin shirt, in a different emotion caving in on him. He spoke louder as redness spread to his cheeks, “Can you guys give us a minute?”

Steve grunted a short response and nodded at Robin to leave. He closed the window behind them, crunching leaves and twigs as they walked away.

His nose started running the second water stung your eyes.

You knew what this was as well as he did.

“What the hell, Eddie?” you huffed in disbelief. “You said–”

“I know you don’t care what I want, but I want you to go to Nationals tomorrow and compete.”

“Fucking Christ.” You wouldn’t let them spill. You wouldn’t cry. Even as water fell from behind his hands obscuring his face, and as he stifled a pitiful whimper between his clenched teeth, and as he had the balls to refuse your help; you didn’t show weakness. You couldn’t. Not in front of him. You were the strong one.

Curbing your anger, you rationalized, “I can be of more help in the Upside Down, you know that. I already gave up on–on–on whatever was keeping me away from you. I’m here now, and I want to go with you–”

“No..” He shook his head slowly, sways of rejection side to side. The moment he dropped his hands would haunt you for an eternity. Engraved on the back of your eyelids as you both had to look away, not wanting to see the other in this heartbreaking state. “Y-You can sal-sal–” He choked on the words. Gathered himself. “You can still leave tonight and make it in time. Salvage what you can.”

A fucking nightmare blindsiding you from out of nowhere.

On the verge of losing it, you tightened your lips in several frowns as you worked through the initial reactions in your head. Sorting them. Compartmentalizing them. Jumping your eyebrows at the audacity of his ask. Almost snorting in a humorless effort to find a nanosecond of comfort at the situation.

You dropped everything to be here, and much like the other ghosts residing in your head, he didn’t appreciate the burdens you accepted for the sake of his happiness. His safety. Worked yourself to the brink of sanity for fucking nothing.

Unappreciated. Yeah, that was the perfect word for your life. Over and over again. You went undervalued as a person. Neglected. Thanked in words only. Not touch.

Breadwinner. Champion. Best friend. Fucking idiot.

Remembering his resolution from New Years, you threw it back at him in a renewed sense of calmness, dragging your thumb rhythmically over the outer seam of your jeans to soothe your temper, “Some forever this is.”

“Please,” he begged you not to bring up the past. Wrenching his eyes closed, he confronted you in darkness, “You can’t follow me. Not where I’m going.”

You were about to say some other smart ass remark when he sucked in a breath. Stilled his twitchy fingers. Swallowed, and opened his eyes, releasing the dam of sorrows to flow down his splotchy cheeks. His fringe stuck to the beads of sweat on his pale forehead. He shivered. Had been shivering.

The fear–the truth–grieved in the vast separation of your bodies as you both stood there, staring at each other.

Eddie mourned for you, “You can’t have my future. I won’t let you.”

You cried. He collapsed into himself, sobbing. You cried harder. He asked for forgiveness. You cried more and he didn’t do anything. He remained rooted where he was, drying his face, unable to hold you. “I want it. I want your future. Eddie. I want it.”

He shook his head.

“I’m sorry.”

And he turned away.

“I’ll be okay. I promise.”

And he drew back the curtains.

“Just decoys. I’ll be waiting here when you get back. O-Okay, sweetheart? I’ll be here.”

And he left, shutting the window behind him.

Taglist: @xxhospital-for-soulsxx @myfavoritesareproblematic @henhouse-horrors @tlclick73 @sidthedollface2 @i-will-duckyou-up @qnsfwthoughts @captainonaboat @eddiemuns0nl0ver @godcreatoreli @harrys-tittie @eg-dr3amer3 @trixyvix88 @venomsvl @lacrymosa-24 @sashaphantomhive @sharp-and-swift @emokid-ellie @mantorokk-writes @drdvlss @mirrorsstuff @bebe0701 @eddiethesexy @edsforehead @b-irock @brittney69 @princesseddie @hes-a-rainbow @churchmuffins @barbielibra @lulukings92 @emotionaldreamer @whoahoney @walleloveseve @glossiepjm @hellfire-puppet @eiriancrow @munsons-mayhem28 @mattymurdocksbitch @tayhar811 @rupsmorge @micheledawn1975 @briasnow-blog @allelitesmut @mxciscastleintheair @knights0fkylo @kellsck 

[vashtijoy]

maruki, ren, wakaba: history rhymes

Maruki's journal entries cover an almost three-year period, from 2014/04/09 to 2017/01/01. This overlaps with almost the entirety of canon; Akechi begins working for Shido "two and a half years" before 11/21 (that's 2014/05/21)—which, again, is not too far from this 04/09 date; if you want to hypothesise that he, too, awakens around 2014/04/09, go wild.

Why is 4/9 a significant date for Maruki?

4/9: maruki and joker connect to their personas

According to his journal, Maruki's awakening is a painful, drawn-out process. In February 2014, he's already getting headaches. They worsen until August of that year, when he partially awakens.

His start of darkness is, of course, the murder of his girlfriend Rumi's parents. The killer then attacks Rumi while making his escape, and Maruki is powerless to prevent it. She never recovers, and neither does he:

Apr. 9   I just can't believe what's happened. I'll never see Rumi's parents again... I don't even know if Rumi will ever come back to me. Her heart's been completely closed off ever since that day. Why did this happen? What did Rumi do to deserve this?   Do we really have to just go on suffering these consequences? My headaches are getting worse— I'm even starting to hear things. Am I having some kind of breakdown? I can't lose it... I have to do something to help Rumi. No matter what it takes.

But 2014/04/09 is the first day he feels able to journal about the murder. "I'm starting to hear things," he says; this is likely the first day he hears the voice of his persona. It's also the date he commits to help Rumi "no matter what it takes".

... However. This is also two years to the day before Joker stops at Shibuya Crossing, gets the Meta-Nav from Yaldabaoth—who is lurking far beneath the Crossing—inadvertently enters the Metaverse, and sees his own shadow and the suggestion of the persona it will become:

He is a scary boy when he wants to be, huh? I bet his Palace would have been amazing. Note that Joker, here, will also not awaken right away—but he's seen his persona, his shadow-as-is, for the first time.

8/21: maruki's partial awakening and wakaba's murder

(@notcoolnickname points out that Wakaba dies on 8/21, not 8/22—thanks! I think we can push Maruki's awakening back two days rather than one, so I'm gonna, lol. Because even if it's a day out, or two, this is really too close for coincidence.)

On 2014/08/23, Maruki writes about his visit to Rumi in the hospital. We also see that visit. He talks about "someone" he's recently met who thinks his research has promise, who wants to fund it—well, it's no surprise he loses that funding, put it like that. He talks about how he wants to save the whole world, by changing the cognition of criminals before they act.

Rumi does not take this well; she begs him to help her forget. And he realises that what she needs is not a solution to crime, but to her trauma—and so does everyone else.

This is when he awakens.

He begs Azathoth to help him save Rumi. And Rumi forgets him entirely—almost. But she's forgotten her trauma, as well:

Aug. 23   I still can't figure out what that voice was in Rumi's room. Was it my subconscious? Was it... it feels so strange writing this as a scientist, but... was it some kind of godlike being?

The entry's dated 8/23, but he says he still can't figure it out. So when did the events in the video happen? Were they two days before, by any chance?

What else happens not just on 8/21, but around or on this exact day?

Yeah. On 8/22, Sae places Wakaba's murder "two years ago". The day before, on 8/21, Sojiro commemorates the anniversary of Wakaba's death.

That's to say: if that visit to Rumi was on 8/21, then Wakaba was murdered the day Maruki awakened. The same exact day, or as good as. Like, what the fuck, y'all?

It seems really clear to me that these corresponding dates are either a thematic or narrative link back to Yaldabaoth—who, of course, causes both Joker and Akechi to awaken. Is he involved with Maruki, somehow? Does he have his fingers in more than one pie? Or are all these guys just narratively echoing each other?

Maruki, of course, will ultimately replace Yaldabaoth in Mementos.

other correspondences in the timeline

What else is there? Well, Maruki's first journal entry, when he talks about his headaches, is on 2014/02/02—three years before he meets with Joker and Akechi at Leblanc. But he says he's meeting Rumi's parents "tomorrow". So his 2/3 boss fight is on the three-year anniversary of his first meeting with Rumi's parents.

His entry about his research being shut down, and his need for test subjects—presumably what leads him into counselling?—is on 2015/06/03. Well, 6/3 is the calling card deadline for Madarame's Palace; I don't think that is too significant. But note that, in this 2015 entry, his research has been shut down; in August 2014, when Wakaba was murdered, Shido was still offering Maruki funding.

So why didn't Shido murder Maruki? The answer is that Shido was still actively recruiting Metaverse researchers, even after Akechi was working for him. Something about Maruki made him unusable—his good intentions and general incorruptibility, maybe—but not dangerous; maybe he just didn't know enough. Also note here that Akechi doesn't know there's anything special about Maruki until the third semester.

He journals that he met Yoshizawa and changed her cognition on 3/25—a couple of weeks before canon begins on 4/9. So whenever we see him, whenever he has a counselling session, he's able to connect with, and change, the cognition of the person he meets....

Lastly, he doesn't journal that "I've finally done it... reality and the cognitive world are merging" until 1/1. 1/1 is the day reality starts to go properly squiffy (the shrine is empty, Morgana is missing, Futaba mentions her mom), and it's the day after that odd New Year party, when everyone seems just a little too happy. Joker's dream is on the night of 12/31—Maruki doesn't send him the dream, I think (Joker is in his prison clothes and sees Lavenza as the butterfly) but he talks to him in it.

But Akechi is there in Shibuya on 12/24, barely moments after Maruki gains Yaldabaoth's power; just hours after the blood rain. The first gift Maruki gave with his new power, I always thought. But he seems to only become aware of what he can do after 12/24. We skip from 12/25 to 12/30, so anything could have happened in the meantime....

But what's going on here? Something odd, that's for sure. Is it possible—just possible—that that Akechi we see, on 12/24, who steps forward in Shibuya and turns himself in, is not the one Maruki interferes with or otherwise brings back, but the actual, living Akechi who was there all along?

[luunoir]

Aún me siento insegura al escribir, pero no tengo duda de que es mi lugar seguro al que puedo recurrir.

Lunoir08

[stevesjockstrap]

The Heart of a Mother

@stcreators event 08: women • Joyce & El • rated G

El had never really given much thought to mothers. She had Papa who was her everything, and then Hopper had quickly taken over that role. Then she discovered Terry who was technically her mother, but couldn’t take care of herself let alone Eleven. When she was in Mike’s basement, she learned that mothers yelled a lot, and talked on the phone more. She remember thinking that maybe she didn’t need a mother if that is what they were like.

But then she met Joyce. Who at first sight of this strange girl had cared more for her than anyone else. Held her while she sobbed after using her powers to poke an actual monster. No questions asked, no ultimatums or quid pro quo necessary.

Then Hopper was gone.

And Joyce became her actual official mother, whisking her away from danger and encouraging her in her flighty but endearing way to start over, use this as a blank slate. But kids were mean, teachers sometimes even more so, but Joyce would sit with her at the dining room table and go through the interactions with her and tell her how to relate to people, give her suggestions on how to ignore the bullies.

El was able to be herself with Joyce, without any judgement or expectations, to just be a girl learning about the world a lot later than everyone else. Joyce never judged her for not knowing something or being able to relate to pop culture references or jokes. They’d spend the weekends catching her up on movies and books she had missed out on, the boys sometimes leaving them to giggle and cry at the stories with matching eye rolls.

Mother’s Day was something that had never crossed her mind before. The first time Will mentioned it, asking what she thought they could do or get for Joyce, El was stumped. What present or craft or chore could she possibly do that would encompass the gratitude that she felt for her substitute mother?

Jonathan listened to her impassioned ranting, pacing in front of him on the couch while he stared strangely bleary eyed at her, but he finally nodded his understanding.

On that morning, they all knew Joyce was definitely awake in her room as they bustled noisily around in the kitchen making her breakfast and coffee, but she still acted abundantly surprised when they dramatically presented her with somehow both doughy and burnt pancakes, runny eggs and too-strong coffee.

Joyce was genuinely surprised when El presented her with a small scrapbook, gasping and looking up at her with tears in her eyes as she flicked through it. Jonathan had been able to snap pictures of them together without her noticing, cooking breakfast in their pajamas, curled up together on the couch reading Winnie the Pooh, crying laughing in the backyard, holding hands walking down the aisle in the grocery store.

El had drawn flowers and leafy vines around the edges of the pages, and filled the empty pages in between pictures with memories, heartfelt letters to her, reasons she loved her and would be eternally grateful to this woman for taking her into her home, into her family. Into her heart.

[yunisverse]

Oi! You! What is a rant about a cartoon/animation/passion that you’ve wanted to spill for a while but haven’t gotten the opportunity to? Lay it on me!

you want it? you got it.

let's talk about Cloverfield's viral marketing campaign.

July 2007, the first Transformers movie hits theaters preceded by a strange trailer. There's no name for the film, just the date of release: 1-18-08.

1-18-08.com is found (don't go there now, some jerk snatched the domain and runs malware ads now), a site which has some scattered photos of the party from the trailer. You can move around the photos, and flip some over to get notes.

Slusho!, a Japanese drink company, is found thanks to its logo on a shirt in the trailer. The company's site loaded with Engrish about how Slusho makes you Zoom! You can't drink just six! It boasts of its secret ingredient, known only as Seabed Nectar.

Then comes the discovery of Tagruato, Slusho's parent organization. Tagruato is vague as hell about what their company is actually about, but what's most clearly documented are their deep sea drilling sites, and news of them sending a satellite into orbit.

The Myspace pages for various characters in the upcoming movie are found, mostly just the characters chatting like normal pals. One character's page, Jamie, hides a link to the secret site shared with her long-distance boyfriend Teddy where she records video messages to him. She knows he's off saving the world or whatever, but she's lonely!

Tagruato's website uploads an assurance to investors that the claims in the article from Ravaille Research Center are baseless, and its author is known for suspicious work. Googling RRC results in worried posts from families asking about the article, which says that cursory experiments with samples of Seabed Nectar show rapid cell growth, muscle growth, sharper eyesight, increased strength, and a sensation of full-body tingling described as a "wave of happiness."

People can buy merch of shirts from the Slusho! website. At first the packages are lined with Japanese newspapers, but over time some people find crumpled Tagruato documents with a hastily scrawled message to the recipient, from "The Whistleblower," trying to warn that employees have gone missing.

Tagruato's site is hacked, images of its CEO defaced. Hints in the images eventually lead to the site of the ecoterrorist organization TIDO-Wave, who are determined to bring to light the shady underbelly of Tagruato and Slusho. Most notable is this Seabed Nectar stuff is a closely-guarded secret, and definitely not FDA-approved.

Jamie's videos to Teddie are getting less sweet and more irritable. He used to be so good about calling, now he's gone radio silent. After weeks of nothing, Jamie opens a package from Teddie containing "evidence" and some kind of warning about Tagrutto or whatever, and frankly she's insulted he had to make up a whole song and dance instead of breaking up with her like a normal person.

At one point, calling Tagruato's contact line mentions a memorial service. TIDO-Wave's site uploads an article with more information: a famed marine biologist who'd been working for Tagruato's medical branch tragically died while camping with his family shortly after his retirement. It's rumored he made an incredible discovery right before retiring, but his computer, papers, and all research files are mysteriously missing.

1-18-08.com is slowly being uploaded with more and more photos, of soldiers and debris-filled streets and an explosion on some sort of ocean tanker. The photos show timestamps all throughout the night the movie takes place, and a timeline is starting to form. If you stay on the site for six minutes, a monster's roar can be heard.

The Whistleblower leaks a report of the various deep sea oil drills owned by Tagruato, noting that their most recently constructed drill not far offshore from New York has no report of oil whatsoever. So what are they doing there?

Tagruato's space division happily reports the success of their satellite in orbit. It even got a really good picture of a piece of a satellite falling. Some other satellite, not theirs. It's probably fine.

TIDO-Wave has been making plans to infiltrate the suspicious drill site off the coast of New York called Chuai Station, but when they arrive at the coordinates there's nothing there.

Soon after, reports flood in about a horrible altercation at the site; there are news reports in at least six different languages about the event showing footage of Chuai collapsing and sinking under the waves in a matter of minutes. Footage from workers trying to escape from inside the station shows armed Tagruato personnel on the site, and a recording from an escaping lifeboat shows massive chunks of metal debris launched out of the ocean after them as they escape. With knowledge that TIDO was in the area at that time, it's believed to be a terrorist attack. One news report mentions concern about dark shapes under the water shortly before Chuai sunk: if it's an oil leak, that could spell huge consequences for the surrounding area.

Jamie's still uploading videos to let Teddy know how Over Him she is. Him and his stupid games and his fake evidence. "Do Not Eat," huh, well, here's what she thinks about your stupid spy games, what are you gonna do, asshole? oh wow it tastes really good though. Damn she is FULL of energy. Fuck you Teddy she's gonna go PARTY and NOT think about YOU.

On MySpace, friends are congratulating their buddy Rob on getting an incredible job opportunity what will require him to relocate to Japan--he's supposed to help figure out how to market this super popular drink over there to Western buyers. His friends are planning a goodbye party on the night of the 18th.

So like. Know that 99% of this never appears in the movie. One character wears a Slusho! shirt, Jamie can be seen for a split second passed out on a couch. At the end of the movie, you can catch a distant splash as a piece of a satellite falls into the Atlantic. Most audiences don't notice or care and lose nothing having missed all of it. In fact, I didn't find most of this until AFTER seeing the movie.

but GOD did I think it was rad. For most people Cloverfield was just a generic monster movie that gave them motion sickness, but the marketing campaign gave me brainrot for YEARS after it faded from the public consciousness.

I have not and don't intend to ever care about anything else JJ Abrams has ever done but god DAMN if he didn't get me with this one.

so yeah there's your ramble thank u come again

[black-arcana]

NIGHTWISH Announces 'Yesterwynde' Album, 'Perfume Of The Timeless' Single

Symphonic metal veterans NIGHTWISH will release their new album, "Yesterwynde", on September 20, 2024 via Nuclear Blast. It marks the band's tenth studio album, following on from the release of "Human. :II: Nature." in 2020.

NIGHTWISH keyboardist and main songwriter Tuomas Holopainen states: "'Yesterwynde' is a fantastical voyage through time, memory, and the better angels of human nature.

"Three years in the making, we're thrilled beyond words to soon share our tenth album with the world!"

The album's first single, "Perfume Of The Timeless" will arrive on May 21.

"Yesterwynde" track listing:

01. Yesterwynde 02. An Ocean Of Strange Islands 03. The Antikythera Mechanism 04. The Day Of... 05. Perfume Of The Timeless 06. Sway 07. The Children Of 'Ata 08. Something Whispered Follow Me 09. Spider Silk 10. Hiraeth 11. The Weave 12. Lanternlight

In January, NIGHTWISH drummer Kai Hahto spoke about the band's upcoming follow-up to 2020's "Human. :II: Nature." album in an interview with Laureline Tilkin of Tuonela Magazine. He said: "At least it's not gonna be the same as 'Human. :II: Nature.', so… Probably, let's say that we go back to more heavy, heavier things on the new album, but also there's a lot of, again, new winds to blow, so to speak. So, different new elements. But, of course, it's still NIGHTWISH, but, of course, we brought back the big symphony orchestra again to the new upcoming tenth album. Yeah, it's gonna be exciting. And quite challenging music to play as well."

Asked if he is "in a way happy" that he doesn't have to play the new NIGHTWISH songs live right now, in light of the fact that the band is taking a break from touring for the foreseeable future, Kai said: "No, no, no. Totally opposite. I would love to go and play it live. But hopefully the time will come when we go back, charging the batteries first. Of course, it's nice to be home with the kids and wife and dogs, but still, of course, I've always been a player, so I also like to play for the people. But I believe I'm not gonna be bored. So I have a lot of things in the back of my head. Even NIGHTWISH is now taking a break. So, I'm not gonna be bored."

Earlier in January, Hahto told Chaoszine that "it looks like" NIGHTWISH won't play any shows in the next two or three years.

In April 2023, NIGHTWISH surprised fans by announcing that the band was not going to be playing any live shows for the foreseeable future and would be not be touring in support of the group's next studio album.

NIGHTWISH's statement read as follows: "As the 'Human :ll: Nature - World Tour' is drawing to a close, we feel now is the time to tell you of our plans for the next phase in our journey.

"After the planned shows for June 2023 we will be 'hanging up our spurs' for an indeterminate time, as far as live concert performances go, and won't be touring the next album.

"The reasons for this decision are personal, but, we all agree, vital to the wellbeing and future of the band. Be assured that we still love working together, and this decision has nothing to do with Floor's pregnancy or our other individual projects.

"However, an album of 12 new songs will see bright daylight in 2024, as will 3 music videos! The band is positively hyped beyond words over this new upcoming musical adventure."

In December 2022, Holopainen said NIGHTWISH's upcoming follow-up to "Human. :II: Nature." will be the third part of a trilogy that began with 2015's "Endless Forms Most Beautiful" album. He told Metal Hammer: "I immediately knew after getting that album ['Endless Forms Most Beautiful'] done that, 'Okay, we have to do more songs about this, because there's so much more to explore and tell the world. We're not done with this.' And the same thing happened after 'Human. :II: Nature.'; we're still not done. So let's do one more. At least one more.

"In a way, [the next album] is the third part of a trilogy, which started with 'Endless Forms…' and then 'Human. :II: Nature.' There are some major surprises there again, but it feels like a natural continuation to 'Human. :II: Nature.'"

According to Tuomas, NIGHTWISH's next LP will cover previously uncharted ground while continuing in the more cinematic style that has characterized some of the band's recent efforts.

In September 2022, Tuomas was asked if NIGHTWISH's upcoming LP will once again be an exploration of evolutionary science, as was the case with the previous two releases. Tuomas said: "Yes and no. It sails on the same waters, but there's some new surprises there as well."

In August 2022, Tuomas told Rock Sverige that he spent "about a year" working on the music and lyrics for the next NIGHTWISH album.

Asked if he got any kind of inspiration from the pandemic, Tuomas said: "Yeah, lyrically there's a couple of things that reflects the pandemic, but not in the way you would expect."

"Human. :II: Nature." was released in April 2020. The follow-up to 2015's "Endless Forms Most Beautiful" was a double album containing nine tracks on the main CD and one long track, divided into eight chapters, on CD 2.

In August 2022, NIGHTWISH announced the addition of Jukka Koskinen (WINTERSUN) as an official member of the band. Koskinen, who made his live debut with NIGHTWISH in May 2021 at the band's two interactive experiences, had spent the previous year touring with NIGHTWISH as a session musician.

In November 2022, singer Floor Jansen revealed that she was "cancer free" after recently undergoing surgery to have a tumor removed following a breast cancer diagnosis.

This past October, Floor and SABATON drummer Hannes Van Dahl welcomed their second child, a daughter named Lucy. Jansen and Van Dahl already have a seven-year-old daughter named Freja, who was born on March 15, 2017.

Photo credit: Tim Tronckoe (courtesy of Nuclear Blast)

[7grandmel]

Todays rip: 08/01/2024

You Are Book Smart

Season 7 Featured on: Rips of Christmas Present

Ripped by circunflexo

Tentative rip name: You Are Book Smart

I'd like to wish a late happy Jay Eazy day to all who celebrate, I hope you spent your time together with your dogs like Mega Man fr fr

Okay, but, like, sincerely, I like many others have over the last year been completely enamored with all the edits and attention given to Jay Eazy, and the frankly hilarious promotions he does for his music. The guy's a rapper in a sea of others but is frankly a marketing genius - he attaches popular games and anime to his songs, such as Grand Theft Auto, Demon Slayer, or indeed Mega Man, and promotes them through TikToks that are so absurdly strange that your only logical reaction is to laugh. In 2023, he struck absolute gold, and Mega Man went absolutely viral - after, of course, it dropped on January 7th.

There's just something so inherently funny about Jay Eazy that's...hard to describe, especially if you haven't been down the rabbithole of edits people have done of the Mega Man promo video. Be it the setup of Jay Eazy dropping in on someone else's grief to promote his music whilst running away from them, The Very Perculiar Way That His Captions And Tweets Are Written‼️, or just the corny sound to the songs themselves - Jay Eazy is immensely fun to post about, and post about him SiIva did, just one day ago. January 7th, 2024, was dedicated entirely to the king of money smarts himself - and of all rips posted, You Are Book Smart became my favorite just about immediately.

The thing is, we've had a lot of rips, and even some events, kind of similar to Jay Eazy Day already. Rap mashup rips, from Yoshi's Cookie World to Loopdeloop Griddy, aren't exactly a rare sight on SiIvaGunner, and just earlier in Season 7 we received a sequel to Whip & Nae Nae Day, with amazing rips like Whip Fortress (coincidentally ALSO by circunflexo!). There's of course uniqueness to all of these rips due to the sheer personality and expressiveness inherent to rap as a music genre, but it does still mean that the rips that try to truly stand out from the crowd are the ones that end up sticking with me the most. And compared to a lot of the other hip hop rips on SiIva, the big benefit that Jay Eazy has enjoyed for me is that he's had a whole year to simmer in my mind - I know the bars to Mega Man completely off the top of my head through no choice of my own, at this point.

All that is to say, that Circunflexo's call to make a rip that specifically plays with the lyrics and flow of Mega Man, sentence mixing it into new bars entirely - is absolutely damn brilliant. You Are Book Smart, through the edits in the lyrics and the sheer whimsy in the original song's beat, transforms a song originally about bragging over riches and dames, into Jay Eazy proudly boasting about his intelligence in perhaps the funniest ways you'll have ever heard. The kind of monotone quality that Jay Eazy's vocals have lend themselves to absolutely fantastic, near seamless sentence mixing, and the jokes just write themselves from there.

"I'm book smart, I'm money smart - I'm more intelligent, Call me Mr. Smart Festival, I got hella books"

It has no right to work as well as it does - and yet, Jay Eazy, the king himself, pulls through. Even if I wasn't blown away by every rip of the event, it was absolutely fun the entire way through, and you can really tell the SiIvaGunner team loves Jay Eazy as much as the rest of us: the cherry on top being the edited opening, that persists in almost all rips of the event. Jay Eazy's typical introduction of spelling out "S-R-G", was across the entire event edited across all rips to say "S-G" - SiIvaGunner. Even for a meme this silly and dumb, the amount of effort put in was, frankly, admirable. What a start to 2024: and Season 8 is just around the corner!!

[srbachchan]

DAY 5590

Loc,Ban,Mum                  June 7/8,  2023                 Wed/Thu  11:30 AM

🪔 .. June 08 .. birthday greetings to Ef Tejas Mankodi .. and Ef Rekha .. love and wishes from your Ef Family ever .. keep well .. ❤️❤️🌿

late again , but never ever missing the DAY to connect with the most important duty of the night, day, whenever .. the Ef .. 

Its work oriented .. am at work and the ‘dhun’ plays in the Vanity and the mind delves into the heart and soul of the chords .. they are the ones that deliver us to the ONE eternal soul - the ALMIGHTY  ..

Music delivers at different levels does it not with each .. on its own bearing .. their connection depending on what they associate the chords with .. a temperament, love, togetherness, anger , distaste .. bringing it to the fore of their own existence ..  the difference of the mind and body with each .. one that has still not been discovered or reasoned or given proof of .. the mystery .. that is the providence of that unknown force .. which when we step out to discover , even the most complex and education falls short after a while ..

they say as age progresses the human that can think and express does desire the need to aspire , to discover , to find out , what the world beyond is like .. or more of it .. they say .. I wonder why .. does it need to know where he shall eventually rest his expired body and soul - if at all the theory of the soul exists  .. or what .. ?

strange .. but has and does occur ..

SECTION 84 IPC .. delves deep into the minds of those that work on its operation , on its deeds , on its path of deliverance .. 

Naaah it is not all that filling of the divine .. its practical and pursues intellect .. and the need for resilient thinking , to be able to master the process of freedom from the unexpected .. 

ok i do believe I am sounding far too detailed .. so shall refrain ..

Love as ever .. ❤️❤️❤️

Amitabh Bachchan