#a world where every day is sunday and everyone is at peace

[sadkachow]

And Then It Is Monday - Why Sunday's plan did not (and could not) work

So normally I don't really make longer analysis posts, but I kept seeing people on social media outright supporting Sunday's actions in 2.2, and I wrote something out about why I personally think that Sunday's plan is wrong. I don't know if this is an issue with tumblr as well, given that the people I saw supporting him were on different forms of social media, but regardless.

Before I begin, I'd like to pose a reminder that the opinions in this are mine and mine alone. If you agree, awesome! If not, I'd love to hear your thoughts on it, so long as you're respectful! I have no idea if this is well written or will make any logical sense, but here we go!

(Spoilers for the 2.2 Trailblazer quest under the cut, if that wasn't already obvious)

So the first thing to get off the table: I feel Sunday is a very sympathetic villain, but a villain nonetheless. I understand the people that sympathize with him. I do too, to an extent. He was raised on unhealthy ideals and the belief that he was a "religious figure," one that people looked up to. Other people were allowed to just be, but Sunday always had to be better. He loved his sister, and the people around him, and he wanted to make a better world for them.

But that does not excuse what he did. Making a 'better world' can never come at the cost of taking away people's free will, because that world will never be "better". That's where Sunday's plan falls apart.

Because, yes, there are shitty people in the world, and yes bad things happen. Would it be amazing if we could stop all the bad things from happening ever again, and make the world a much better place? Yes! It would! I would love to live in a world where I don't have to fear for my life and my freedom for an assortment of reasons! But that world doesn't exist--in real life or on Penacony--, and getting it to exist shouldn't be the result of subjugating and controlling other people, because that in and of itself is violence. Albeit a different kind of violence, but violence nonetheless.

Not to mention that things like Sunday's plan and the concept of forcing everyone to act a certain way just to fit this "better world" to me almost serves as a condemnation of human nature and of the very act of choice itself. Your better world starts by saying that some choices are bad, so those choices get taken away, but where does it end? What if someone in charge views a harmless choice as a bad one, and takes away that one in return? Does it stop there, or does it continue, until no one at all is allowed to make any decisions, except those in charge? Who, really, does that benefit?

Consequences for certain choices exist. Generally, society says murder is bad (except for specific circumstances such as self-defense, which technically at that point is no longer even considered murder (at least where I live, it may be different in other areas, but I'm basing this off of my own experience)), so there is a concrete consequence to people murdering people--assuming that they don't get away with it. It doesn't stop people from murdering people, because the liberty of choice is still there, but it shows that just because you can do something doesn't mean you should or that you will escape without consequence.

People are going to do bad things. That is, unfortunately, how humans are. But our responsibility lies in holding ourselves accountable and in promoting growth and healing. That is how you build a better world. Not trapping everyone inside a dream world without any care for their feelings or beliefs, but in getting people the help they need, in fostering a society of positive change and human connection.

And that is why, as "golden" as Sunday's dream may have seemed, it was never going to work. In the end, as the story quest shows, human will and the desire for freedom wins out in the end. When there's a will, there's a way.

[sinning-23]

Rest Day(Logan x Reader)

Warnings: none, kinda fluffy and sweet

Enjoy~

P.s yes I still have wolverine brainrot

——————————————————————-

Water boils away on the stove and you place your tea bag inside your designated cup. The contrast of the fine china with the metal of the can makes you smile. It’s Sunday, a nice falll afternoon with the sun setting just a bit below the mountains.

And he glows.

His eyes are closed as he sits quietly in his chair, and finally relaxed for once. He knows he’s safe with you, always has been by some whim. It’s had never failed in your 10 years of being a pair. Every time he’s with you…he’s safe.

When you first met, your proximity seeming to bring a sort of relief and…security. Of course he was sceptical at first, thinking you had to have had some kind of gift that gave everyone that effect. That was until he brought it up and realized…it was just him. And of course he was in denial-

Maybe it was 2 months after that? Your first mission together where you’d both just so happened to miss the danger by a second, your intuition pulling both of you away from the scene before anything could happen.

Or was it a year after that? After you and tiptoed around each others feelings and you had finally gotten the courage to knock on his bedroom door, seeking to comfort him after hearing him struggle on the other side. Had it been anyone else he would have pushed them away, anger resting in his chest. But you weren’t anyone else. The minute your knuckles hit the door his heart slows and flutters all at once , trembling hands swinging the door open to invite you in.

No no. It had to have been a few months after that, your bodies pressed close as you stroke the curl of his hair with one hand. The other intertwined with his, stroking the top with your thumb as you hum and sing sweet words and songs to him. The vibrations in your chest bringing him to sleep.

Or a week after that when you’d kissed and he felt quiet. Just quiet. Not a single sound in the world. Just you. Your heart, your hands on his face.

That was besides the point now, time has passed and nothing has changed since then.

And he’s so pretty when he’s somewhat at peace, the worry lines that etched into between his brows have settled. His jaw still works from time to time, a habit of grinding his teeth.

He only moves when you approach. Your set the can beside him, your teacup resting between your fingers as your own chair creaks slightly.

“Thank you.” He hums, leaving the beverage where it’s at, stretching his hand out towards you.

It’s not a big gap, especially when you interlock your pinking with his index finger.

He’s wasn’t talking about the drink.

[softtdaisy]

“is it okay if i stay at yours tonight? i don’t know if i can stand another night away from you.” with charles

Pairing: Charles Leclerc x female!reader

Words: 1080

A/n: this story is just me being in love with Charles so I hope you will appreciate all my soft feelings 😭💛

To say you were taking your time with Charles was an euphemism.

You two had been seeing each other for a few months now. When you met, it was evidence that something bigger was coming for you. You could tell from the way your heart beat faster, how it felt like nobody else was in the room when he looked at you or how a simple smile from him was giving you hope.

But you were both out of serious relationships and not ready to engage in a new one. Not that you didn’t want to. If it were just up to you, you would already be together. But you both agreed that this wouldn’t be fair to either of you. Plus you needed some time to adjust to the idea of everyone knowing about your relationship and fans potentially posting about you on social media.

Charles being away most of the time clearly helped. You had dates like every three weeks when he was coming home. Or when it was possible. But you didn’t complain.

You were calling each other almost every night. It started as a casual thing, you wanted to know about his qualifications and his race. And Charles would tell you all about it, even about the things you saw on tv. There was something special about lying in bed and listening to Charles’ story. How he laughed slowly like he could wake up people in the other room. How he would yawn but swear he didn’t want to hang up. Or, sometimes, how he would fall asleep and you could hear his peaceful breath.

But to be honest, you did that too.

And from calls on Saturday and Sunday, it became calls anytime he was in another country. And from these calls, it became everyday calls. Five minutes or two hours didn't matter. All you both wanted was to hear your voices.

You might not be together yet. But you were already very much in love.

Hopefully, tonight was a night where Charles was in town. You couldn’t count the number of times you planned that together on the phone. Charles was so excited about seeing you again that he had booked everything two weeks in advance. “I want it to be perfect!” He said one day when you explained how the restaurant kept assuring him that yes it was booked and no there was no mistake. That night would be a special night.

When you opened the door, the whole world stopped turning. The man you love was there, looking beautiful and absolutely amazed by you. Charles took the time to look at you before giving you his bright smile and offering you his hand. “Bonsoir mon amour.”

Like a pure gentleman, he kissed the hand you gave him. Before pulling it to bring you closer and giving you a proper kiss on the lips. You laughed against his mouth even if you were used to it.

“Ready to go?”

“Of course, I don’t want to miss the reservation you keep telling me about.” You replied, teasing him. He gave you a shoulder bump before walking you out. The perks of being in Monaco was that you could do so many things on foot. So you could both telling each others about your day already.

Like you can imagine, the whole night was perfect. Charles chose the best Italian restaurant here and you noticed how anxious he looked. Like he was scared you wouldn’t love it. He wanted everything to be perfect for you, he couldn’t imagine losing you. Not now, before you even started something real. Not ever, now that he knew he was madly and truly in love with you.

“I love it, Charles. I promise!” You told him when he gave you a side look while drinking his wine.

“Well I hope because I plan on taking you here for our future anniversaries.” He said out of nowhere.

Well not really out of nowhere.

He opened the door to your future. Waiting to see if you would follow him inside. So when you put your hand on top of his, he felt like he wasn’t alone on this new path. “Then I know we will have the most amazing anniversaries every time.” You added, with a soft smile.

It felt like a dream. Walking hand in hand with Charles in the middle of Monaco. There was something almost magic about how some people would look at you and give you a respectful smile. One that meant “we see you but we won’t say anything.” Monégasques loved Charles so much they were ready to protect him like their child.

You turned your head to look at him. How the moon reflected on him. How good he looked with his shirt with two buttons open. How you loved to see his necklace hanging against his chest.

“What are you looking at?” He asked with a small laugh.

“Have I ever told you how dreamy you look?” You swear you could see him blush when he heard you.

“I think you did, yes.”

Before you notice, and earlier than you hoped, you were back in front of your apartment. You didn’t want this night to end. You didn’t want to let him go again. You couldn’t handle losing him somehow and wait again to see his pretty face.

When you faced Charles, you could read the same thoughts in his eyes.

That didn’t stop him from putting his free hand on your face to get closer to you. You felt his breaths against your lips before he finally kissed you. It always made everything so intimate and you were falling for this. He left your hand so he could put his on your neck. You loved how some hairs got tangled with his fingers. It was like every part of your body wanted to be connected to him.

Charles put his forehead against yours, sounding breathless after sharing all his love through a single kiss. “Is it okay if I stay at yours tonight? I don't know if I can stand another night away from you.”

It was finally here, the moment when everything changed between you. The step you still had to make. You met his beautiful eyes and all the hope that he had about your answer. Maybe your smile gave away your thoughts. You could feel Charles relaxing before you even speak.

“I thought you would never ask.”

[perfectlyoongi]

DAD!JIN who cooks breakfast for you and your child every day. it didn't matter if he was the first to wake up or if he only got up when lunch was already being made — Jin always made a point of cooking for you and your child; small pancakes or toast, natural juices or glasses of milk, Jin always made sure to provide a good breakfast for the two of you, to have all the energy and strength to face the world. between small strawberries and melted butter, in the middle of natural water and on top of the cheese, Jin poured a little of his love into each cooked piece, serving you with a smile on his face and kisses on your foreheads. “good morning, my treasures. i hope you slept well. come eat, today is going to be a big day!”

DAD!JIN who teaches your child to count with hugs and kisses. sitting on the sofa, almost lying down, Jin and your child played in the midst of laughter and screams. in the middle of that tender melody, when Jin held your kid in his arms after a little tickle fight, he would hold them and say that he would only release them when they counted to ten. a kiss — one. a kiss, a hug — two. a kiss, two hugs — three. Jin used these little tricks to teach your kid how to count, the numbers seeming so fun and easy when bathed in the love Jin felt for your child. “you have to count to ten. it's the only way you can get out now! come on, let me give you a kiss to start.”

DAD!JIN who buys a postcard for your child in every city he visits. Jin has seen the world. and in the landscapes of the world, Jin fell in love with life. there was something about the natural beauty of the world that made him feel peaceful, unique, happy to be able to experience all those adventures. and Jin wanted your child to feel the same. Jin wanted your kid to see the world too. so, whether in korea or brazil, in egypt or scotland, Jin made a point of buying the most beautiful postcard and always writing a loving sentence to show your child that there was beauty in that world — they just had to look for it. “i'm leaving a fragment of my love in every city i visit for you to collect and keep in a jar forever.”

DAD!JIN who does your child's hairstyle before they go to school. Jin always woke up early to prepare your child for school and, after choosing clothes and feeding them, Jin took your little baby to the bathroom, where he sat them in the counter and began to play with their soft hair. with elastics scattered around and hairpins in a cup, Jin took his time to treat your child's hair, always wanting the most perfect hairstyle to be done, always making your child happy with the end result. “you want a braid? i've never done one before, but i can try. you want two?! oh, cupcake, i'm not that good.”

DAD!JIN who paints tote bags and sweaters with your child on the most boring sundays. there wasn't a boring moment in your house from the moment your kid was born; and even if the monotony was peeking around the corner of your house, Jin always had a solution to make it disappear — and what better idea to share with a child than painting? colorful paints were spread in your garden on top of a huge plastic sheet and, with as many brushes as they could hold, your kid dipped them in the various colors, splashing bright and fun tones on the plastic. houses, suns, various flowers or a portrait of your family, the paintings that were kept in your garage were immense and Jin wore each one of them with a proud smile and a bright look. “look what our baby did! it's me and you! in a rocket! isn't it cool? i'm going to wear this shirt tomorrow. everyone will be so jealous.”

DAD!JIN who plays sims and animal crossing with your child when they get sick. whenever the flu struck your child and days had to be spent in bed, Jin would take his computer or console to your kid's room, sitting next to them and turning on the game. starting a new island in animal crossing, or creating your child's fairy tale in the sims, Jin spent hours with your kid, entertaining them with his jokes and games, making them forget their pain. “what do you mean you don’t want to adopt the cat? cupcake, his name is Wigglebutt! we need it in the house!”

DAD!JIN who buys your child a disposable camera every time you go on vacation and gives them an album with all the photos when they turn 18. Jin always wanted to see the world from your child's point of view. he always wanted your child's innocence and joy to be known by everyone and admired by all. so, on several shared family vacations, Jin would always buy a disposable camera for your kid, hoping that the roll would be used with magic eyes. and, when your child turned eighteen, Jin gave them a large album, each of the photos taken by them being displayed chronologically with a small message from Jin accompanying them. “all these moments frozen in time will always be present within us. and it is in my heart that i carry all the memories of these photographs.”

[littlepadika]

hi friend!! i absolutely love your fics. especially the daddy/papi ones (i’ve read them all so many times!!!) would i be able to request some daddy joel little reader fluff please! 🤍🤍🤍

hehe me was talking bout dis idea with @littlebirdsbookshelf. Kinda angsty but ends soft and fluffy i pwomise. Takes place after encounter with the infected. I hope you wike i wrote all in one go!

Warnings: big emotions, ddlg, fem little

It was hard living in the QZ and being little. It was hard living in this fucked up world and still trying to be playful. Joel knew you sometimes let big emotions and fear come out when you were little. Things in the past that he couldn't change. He wished he could protect you from it all. Wish he could go back in time and make it right.

Violence was how many people around here coped. It wasn't unusual for someone to punch someone else in broad daylight or pull guns on each other. It was a tenuous peace among the residents. The latest attack near the border had everyone on edge. No more search parties for a week so rations were running low.

"We can't go baby I'm sorry." Joel tried to explain for the third time. He sat you down on the couch.

"But why?" you pouted. You woke up with your bag all ready to go for a sunday hike. It was something you looked forward to every week.

"They're not lettin' anyone out right now. It's not safe."

"pcuz of me" you clamped your eyes shut.

"No..." Joel frowned, rubbing your arm. "Because of those scary monsters."

To Joel's dismay you started crying and balling your fists up. He knew you wanted to scream in frustration but you were holding it in like a good girl. Like he told you. You can't scream anymore. Draws too much attention.

Joel knew this feeling too. When the weight of everything got too much and started to spill over. He used to take pills or drink the feeling away but he knew it wasn't healthy. One time he even punched a wall which gave him scars over his knuckles to this day. Eventually people just go numb from the anger. They walk around the QZ like zombies. Joel fears them more than the infected beyond the border.

"Are you angry?" Joel asked, feeling panic stir in his belly. You were having big girl emotions.

You nodded quickly. Having trouble keeping it all in you started pushing joel's chest weakly and head butting his chest. You were not trying to hurt him but trying to get your anger out. You pressed your lips together and exhaled hot air that felt like you were breathing fire.

"Here petal..." Joel looked around before grabbing pillow from behind you. "Here punch this, baby. Get all that anger outta ya."

"But- but pillow" You paused, not wanting to hit your comfort object.

"It's okay. Pillow can take it. Let pillow help you." Joel kissed the top of your head before guiding your fist to the soft pillow. It was a little flat from you carrying it around but it still absorbed the blow.

You gave it a weak hit, then another, then another. Pretty soon you were hitting it with as much strength as you could muster. You felt your frustration build but it felt kinda good. Hot tears landed on your fists as they hit the pillow. The pillow and lumpy couch cushion damped the sound into little thuds. Daddy joel's body made a safe coccoon where you could let all your emotions out. His arms bracketing you as you punched. You leaned forward till your head was almost touching his chest. Thump. Thump.

"That's it. Let all those big emotions out, baby." Joel whispered feeling his own tears sting his eyes. He wanted to do more but he just watched you keep going until you were panting.

You imagined all the scary things in the world and punching them one by one like daddy joel would do. You imagined punching through a thick door that was blocking you and daddy joel from the light.

"Come on, baby. Show daddy what you're feeling. Good girl." He urged you on. Proud of how you were letting yourself feel everything.

"Hmmf hmmf" You grunted with each punch. You were getting tired and as you got tired the sadness sunk in. This world was so mean. You looked up at daddy with tears still pooled in your eyes and melted under his warm empathetic gaze.

"Are you all done, petal? Oof-" He caught you as you jumped into his lap. "Aw it's okay. That was scary huh?"

"M-mhm" You were shaking a little.

He rubbed your back as you cried silently, hiccuping from being out of breath.

"I gotcha. You're safe. Ain't nothin gonna happen." He whispered into your hair.

"Da-daddy..." You croaked sniffing his t shirt. You looked up puckering for a kiss which joel happily bestowed. He kissed your lips then around your tear streaked face.

"Feel better?" He asked after a moment.

"Ya." You sigh. He rocks you in his arms until your breathing slows.

"I'm sorry we can't go hiking, petal. But I'm sure we can have fun exploring around here. We haven't done an i spy with stuff 'round here."

"Here is bo'ing." You sniffle. You pull pillow into your lap and stroke it as if trying to smooth out areas you punched.

"Oh it most certainly ain't." Joel chuckled. "Have you seen all the treasures around here. I'm sure I saw some old tea cups by the laundry. An i know you been wantin' to play tea time with april!"

"Der is?" You perk up, wiping your eyes.

"Mhm why don't we go find it, huh?" Joel suggests, his spirits lifting.

You get your hiking bag and trail snacks packed up like it was a regular hike. Joel wrote down a list for you to play i-spy. Even though it was only around the QZ it still was fun. And you did find some lightly chipped sky blue tea cups. Daddy washed them up for you and set it up like a real tea party!

"Daddy come." You point at the chair next to you.

"Why thank ya for invitin' daddy."

"Mhm daddy always welcome." You nod, pouring him some 'tea' (it was lemonade and honey that joel warmed up). You did a good job and didn't spill.

"Good job with that petal." he praised. "Well let's see here... i think we should start it off with a toast to you petal for being a brave girl and a smart girl findin' all the things on i-spy." He held up his cup.

"Fankie." You grin. "Thankie to daddy for letting me have big emotions and not be angy." You clinked glasses with him.

"I love that you have big emotions, petal." Joel smiled. "It's what's gonna save this messed up world I reckon."

~~~~~~~~

Daddy masterlist

[nerdygaymormon]

Queer Gospel Music

This past year I came across several songs that I enjoy listening to on Sundays. I created a playlist for myself for Sundays and thought I'd share with y'all.

Yet : Ashley Hess - Ashley Hess was a finalist on the 2019 season of American Idol. I heard her perform this song at the Gather Conference where she introduced it by saying, "The next song that I'm gonna play is a song that I wrote in my lowest time. But it's a song that's so special to me because it was the moment that I felt like I finally came out of hiding, and that the Lord not only saw me, but loved me and embraced me." I can relate so much to that. Plus, I don't hear many songs from the perspective of "I'm trying, so God please don't give up on me."

God Loves Me Too : Brian Falduto - Brian played the gay kid in the movie School of Rock, and catapulted the character into an LGBTQ icon when he delivered the line “You’re tacky and I hate you.” Now as an adult, Brian is back and singing that no one has to earn God’s love. Brian wrote the song after visiting a church that was welcoming and accepting of queer people. I look around and see I’ve found a place where peace and love abound. I’ve waited my whole life for the truth. It is true, God loves you. It don’t matter if you’re LGBTQ

My Little Prayer : David Archuleta - David wasn't out yet when he recorded this, but I imagine he really related to some of these lyrics, such as I'm beginning to understand that you (God) have a plan for me.

The Queer Gospel : Erin McKeown - I love these lyrics. There are those who think we're wicked. There are those who call us names: depraved, lost and sick, and would rather bathe us in shame. But we put the "sin" in sincere, we put the "do" in the doubt. God is perfectly clear. We are perfectly out. Love us as we are. See us and we're holy. In this shall we ever be wholly ourselves.

Good Day (feat. Derek Webb) : Flamy Grant - Matthew Blake was a worship leader for 22 years who has become a “shame-slaying, hip-swaying, singing-songwriting drag queen” named Flamy Grant (it's a play on the name of gospel singer Amy Grant). The lyrics talk of coming back to church after having left for feeling oppressed. They’ve come back to church because despite what some say, God’s love is expansive enough for everyone. God made me good in every way, so I raise my voice to celebrate a good day. 

Believe : GENTRI - The pianist for this group is gay. After coming out, he was having a hard time with faith and was angry at God, and he felt God gave him this song as part of his healing process. Believe there is an answer. And while you feel you're buried deep in a disaster, believe more hands are waiting, ready to lift you up and carry you back to safety. You're not alone, keep holding on. And believe.

Explaining Jesus : Jordy Searcy - In 2014, Jordan was a contestant on The Voice. He grew up active in a church and since being on the television show he has written several religious songs, including this one. Jordy discusses the shortcomings of churches, comparing the ways in which church members act and interact with each other, including how they treat the gay community and oppress women. If you're gay and over 85, you've felt for your whole life that when God made you, he just messed up. In the chorus he apologizes that this has been the experience, I'm sorry no one explained Jesus to you.

Satan's Tears : Kyler O'Neal - Did anyone ask how real you are? Has anyone said that you are loved, or that you’re the one they’re dreaming of? Those questions start this beautiful song by trans woman Kyler O’Neal. The song addresses a young gender non-conforming person unaccepted by their world, and the singer promises to wipe away Satan’s tears which were created by a cruel society

Same Love : Macklemore & Ryan Lewis feat. Mary Lambert - Macklemore sings that his gay uncles should be allowed to marry, and speaks of how Christianity has hurt gay people. "God loves all his children" is somehow forgotten, but we paraphrase a book written thirty-five hundred years ago. The song concludes with Mary Lambert singing I’m not crying on Sundays, which I think means not letting religious intolerance and churches harm us anymore

No Place in Heaven : MIKA - Mika is singing about how religion teaches there’s no place in heaven for gay people because the way we love is sinful. Father, won’t you forgive me for my sins? Father, if there’s a heaven let me in

God Is : The Outer Banks - I don't know that they had queer people in mind when they wrote the song, but the lyrics relate to the conflict between one’s queerness and relationship with God. God was never angry. God was not against me. God was never far away. God is not disappointed.

I Know it Hurts : Paul Cardall & Tyler Glenn - I just wanted to believe, but how am I supposed to believe this about me? And then we find each other, queer church members who can understand what we’re going through, who know the hurt. For most queer people, they leave church and go on a different path. They’re not lost, a faint light at the end is guiding their way, they’re finding another way back home.

Losing My Religion : R.E.M. - The song was interpreted as the struggle of a closeted gay man coming to terms with what his religion taught about gay people and is seen as an example of queer coding in the era of “don’t ask, don’t tell.” Lead singer Michael Stipe had declined to address his sexuality, so when “Losing My Religion” came out, people assumed Stipe was coming out as gay. Consider this the hint of the century. Consider this the slip.

HIM : Sam Smith - This is a song about a boy in Mississippi coming out and the conflict between his sexuality and his religious upbringing. He is grappling with the feeling that there’s no place in church for him because he’s gay. Holy Father, we need to talk. I have a secret that I can’t keep. I’m not the boy that you thought you wanted. Please don’t get angry, have faith in me.

Pray : Sam Smith - You won’t see Sam in church, but they say they’re a child of God at heart and are begging God to show the way. I’m not a saint, I’m more of a sinner. I don’t wanna lose, but I fear for the winners

Faith : Semler -  This song reached No. 1 on the iTunes Christian music chart and is about growing up queer in a faith community and how the rejection by the church left them scarred. When my religion turned against me, they said my hopes and dreams were faulty. I showed these holes inside my hands, and they claimed they couldn’t see.” Even as they struggled with the church, Semler kept a relationship with Jesus and flourished far more than she did in any church building. But I don’t wanna get small to be in those rooms

Hey Jesus : Trey Pearson - Trey made headlines in 2016 when as the lead singer of the Christian rock band Everyday Sunday, he came out as gay. Three years later and Trey has a question: Hey Jesus can you hear me now? It's been awhile since I came out, I was wonderin' do you love me the same? As a person who struggles to reconcile faith with sexual orientation, I find this song quite moving.

Heaven : Troye Sivan feat. Betty Who - Troye sings about what it’s like for a religious teenager to come out as gay. Without losing a piece of me, how do I get to heaven? Without changing a part of me, how do I get to heaven? All my time is wasted, feeling like my heart’s mistaken, oh, so if I’m losing a piece of me, maybe I don’t want heaven? Troye explains “When I first started to realise that I might be gay, I had to ask myself all these questions—these really really terrifying questions. Am I ever going to find someone? Am I ever going to be able to have a family? If there is a God, does that God hate? If there is a heaven, am I ever going to make it to heaven?” The video features footage from LGBTQ+ protests throughout history.

Revelation : Troye Sivan and Jónsi -This song was written for the movie Boy Erased, which is about a young man being sent by his parents to a conversion therapy camp to try to change him to not be gay. The lyrics are about feeling liberated from the toxic teachings he learned at church about LGBTQ+ people. It’s a revelation. There’s no hell in what I’ve found, and no kingdom shout. How the tides are changing as you liberate me now and the walls come down. In other words, God doesn't condemn me for my queerness.

Orphans of God : Ty Herndon & Kristin Chenoweth feat. Paul Cardall - The message of the song is we are all loved by God, we are all thought about, we are all created equally and God loves us all the same.

Midnight : Tyler Glenn - The Neon Trees frontman gives an emotional song about his departure from the Mormon church but not from God. The ballad is accompanied by a video that shows Glenn removing his religious garments and replacing them with a glittery jacket, which is such a powerful metaphor.

[coffeegnomee]

I read the Mering essay in the aftermath of ls Sunday, and the shift in the major conflict from what we saw in s4 with Vitalasy and Zam to this new tension with the new players and rp is so fascinating.

With the meeting on Monday, we saw a breakdown in composure from pb&j when the Players refused to show up to the anti-trapping box (so proud of the Players for finally putting their foot down). It was something that bothered me when I first watched it. 

They took such a small conflict, one that they have created for themselves with the arrow cannon (hello the consequences of your actions), and it was the most tense part of the entire meeting.

And it hit me that Minute&co see Lifesteal more as a recording server than a place of Play. Conversations about rules should be done non-canonically, behind the scenes, away from the cameras. But if they have to be in the script (“script”), everyone should show up so the recording can be pretty. 

We’ve seen this before. Conversations on motive shouldn’t be brought up over and over, pvp should be limited for ease of editing, conflicts like blowing up bases shouldn’t be done more than once so it doesn’t get repetitive.

But that’s not Lifesteal. It’s an unscripted free-for-all where every single player gets to have a say in what they themselves do, and it can be wildly unpredictable. The goal is to play, literally have creative fun, within that world and craft a conflict and story within that.

Ro’s line “I feel like- nah - I feel like it’s honestly cooler that like, now there’s no more higher power left. Like it’s down to the players, like this is a human story, not like a let’s get god to revive everyone” 

And Jumper claps back with “and then what do we get out of this”. 

Jumper is looking for a recording solution. Her recording has been messed up a Lot. Woogie, Vortex, Planet, and Terrain have all died. Zam and Mapic and Bacon have all died and now Pangi and Spoke are basically dead since they’re being possessed. 

This vision of a peaceful ending is gone. And pb&j Need a recording-server Kingsmp/Civ event-type plugin to add a revive beacon (something, can I say on the side, exists within Lifesteal already. But thanks to the presidency arc has been taken away. They could advocate for the complete removal of all presidential decisions and I would love that, to have a vanilla Lifesteal ending like season 3, but it is too late. But they do have 86-odd hearts. Reviving everyone would be trivially easy)

Or they could be moved by the narrative and see that the peaceful option? It was never possible on this server. But that's an rp solution soooo

(I love them anyway)

——-

Hey guys, I’ve been a vod-only watcher since the Eclipse betrayal, and I’m finally saying hello! Live streams are painful for me to watch since I’m a chronic pause-to-freak-out-about-the-lore-before-moving-on (or when I’m just deaf), so unfortunately I’ll probably never be in chat. 

But mer’s essay has actually reframed my entire mind about Lifesteal this season and I can actually enjoy watching this conflict unfold, all four days we have left of it, so, thank you Mer! 

[footprintsinthesxnd]

It’s Not Your Fault

Pairings: Jake Seresin x reader

Warnings: mentions of injury, miscarriage, alcohol abuse, failed relationship

Heres part 2 to ‘Promise Me’ which you can read via the link or my masterlist.

Jake’s head pounded as he tried to lift his head off the pillow, he felt dizzy and he could feel the bile building in his throat. His eyes fluttered open and the blinding light of the morning sun blared through the thin curtains. He stuck his eyes shut, groaning and trying to roll over away from the light.

“Good morning, sleepy head,” Bob's sing-song voice called, as he came through the bedroom door, armed with paracetamol and a large glass of water. Bob placed the glass of water on the bedside table, before grabbing Jake’s shoulders and pushing him against the headboard. “Here take these,” he shoved the paracetamol into Jake’s mouth and handed him the glass. Jake took a large gulp, enjoying the feeling as the cool liquid trickled down his throat. After a few more sips Jake looked up, Bob was standing there, already dressed and ready for the day, the clock behind him showed it was 07:00 on a Sunday morning. Jake groaned again, “what do you want, Bob? Can’t you leave a man in peace?” Bob glared at him, the man he had brought home last night was gone, the man who had needed a friend, now Jake was back to his normal arrogant self.

“No I can’t actually,” Bob said flatly. “We have a busy day ahead of us so you are going to get ready. There are some fresh towels ready in the bathroom, I want you to shower, put on something other than a tracksuit and then come and have some breakfast.” Jake was slightly taken aback by Bob being an authoritative figure but he followed his orders, dragging himself off the bed and into the bathroom down the hall.

As soon as the warm water hit his skin, Jake already began to feel a little more human, his headache had subsided slightly and he no longer felt the urge to vomit every time he moved. Once he returned to the bedroom he noticed that Bob had laid out a pair of jeans and a shirt for him, he wasn’t going to argue and so dressed quickly before heading down the hall to the kitchen. Bob had laid out toast, bacon and eggs and had just brewed a fresh pot of coffee.

“Feeling better,” he asked as Jake slumped into one of the island chairs.

“A little, Jake admitted, mumbling into the cup that Bob placed in front of him.

“Good.” Bob continued to busy himself as Jake ate but as soon as he’d finished, he was lacing up his boots by the front door.

“Where are you going?” Jake looked puzzled, Bob had been oddly quiet even for him.

“We are going out, come on, put your shoes on.” Jake did as he said, following him out to the car like a lost puppy. Although he was feeling better and could think of so many sarcastic comments to say this morning, he didn’t feel like fighting it, he was just glad that he wasn’t alone.

Bob turned on the radio as he drove, flicking through the stations until he found one he liked. Jake stared out of the window watching the world go by. The soft sound of a Taylor Swift song played in the background and Jake shut his eyes, you had always loved Taylor Swift and Jake could imagine you now, swaying gently in the kitchen as you prepared dinner. A large smile graced your soft features and your hand rested on your small baby bump. Jake was brought back to his senses when the car rolled to a halt. He squinted at the white house in front of him, potted plants sat on the window ledge and a small glass windchime hung from the porch. It looked just like Jake remembered it.

“Bob, why the hell did you bring me here? She doesn’t want to see me. We broke up, it’s over.”

Bob looked frustrated, “Jake you need to talk to each other, it’s important.”

Jake glared at him, “and why the hell do you think you have anything to do with our relationship, huh? Everyone thinks they need to get involved but they don’t, it’s over and…”

“FOR FUCK SAKE JAKE, JUST LISTEN!” Bob bellowed, his cheeks red and his chest heaving. Bob never got angry with anyone but he had finally gotten to his breaking point and he refused to take Jake’s shit any longer.

“We care about you both, Jake. We all see how unhappy you both are apart and yes I can never even begin to imagine what you both went through, but you need each other now. I can’t keep watching you wallowing in self-pity and drinking yourself into oblivion. Do you know how many nights Nat has sat round here while she comforted her? Nat hasn’t slept at her own apartment in weeks because she didn’t want to leave her alone. We are all here for you both but you have to let us help you, Jake, please.” Jake could feel the tears welling in his eyes, he’d been so swept up in his self-pity that he’d completely forgotten that you had been suffering too, the thought broke his heart and knowing that he had helped cause it hurt him even more. Bob placed a reassuring hand on his shoulder and gave him a soft smile. “Just talk to her, Jake. That’s all I’m asking and if it all goes wrong you can stay at mine for as long as you need.” Jake let out a sigh, nodding slowly. “Thanks, Bob. I know I’m a real dick to you sometimes and I’m sorry if I’ve ever made you feel like you're anything less than amazing because you are, you're a great friend and an even greater WSO. I’d be honoured to fly with you if you’re ever in need of a pilot.” Bob beamed with pride at his friend.

“Thanks, Jake.” The two men gave each other a quick hug before Jake pulled away coughing awkwardly. “Well, I best get going.” He got out of the car and slowly made his way up the path to the front door. He knocked gently, feeling his mouth go dry as he stood there in utter panic. What happens if you don’t open the door? More importantly, what will he say if you do?

The door creaked open slowly and you poked your head out. Jake could see the dark circles under your eyes and your tear-stained cheeks. You wore no makeup, your hair greasy and pulled back into a bun and your small frame was still wrapped in your nightdress. Jake thought you’d lost weight, you looked gaunt and your cheekbones were more prominent than before. “Jake?” Your voice sounded hoarse and weak. Jake’s eyes widened and he opened his mouth slowly, praying that something would come out but he just croaked, he cleared his throat and sighed.

“Don’t you want to come in?” You stepped back slightly, opening the room wider and leading Jake inside. He sat down awkwardly on the edge of the sofa, as you slowly made your way around the kitchen to make drinks.

You returned shortly, placing the mugs onto the coffee table and sitting opposite Jake. You both stared at each other. You took on his features, messy hair, sunken eyes, he looked pale and ill, like he hadn’t been looking after himself.

“Baby,” he reached across the table and took your hand lightly, you wanted to fight it but you couldn’t, you didn’t have the strength and deep down you knew you both needed each other. He squeezed your hand lightly and you squeezed it back. “How have you been?” Your voice was barely above a whisper but you knew Jake had heard you. His face contorted as he tried to think of what to say. What should he say, that he’d been living day to day as the ghost of his former self, drowning his sorrows in a bottle?

“Umm, not great,” he spoke slowly and unsure. You nodded. “What about you? Are you ok?”

“Not really.” You weren’t about to lie to him, yes he’d broken your heart and left you when you needed him most but it looks like he didn’t get away scot-free, he was hurting too.

“I’ve missed you.” That’s all you had wanted to say since you saw him on the doorstep. You wanted him back, to help soothe you as you cried at night, to hold you in the safety of his strong arms.

“I missed you too,” Jake’s voice was hoarse and tears glistened in his eyes. You got up from your seat stiffly, holding onto your ribs as you moved. They were still painful and bruised from the accident and your left arm sat neatly in its sling, supporting your broken collar bone. You moved round the coffee table, taking a seat next to Jake. He watched your movements carefully, unsure of what you were doing. Your eyes brimmed with tears as you looked at him, the man who held your heart. Without thinking, Jake leaned forward, wrapping his arms tightly around your shoulders and pulling you close to his chest carefully, ensuring he didn’t knock your ribs. Embraced in the familiar warmth you felt safe and the floodgates opened, you sobbed into his shirt, not caring that you were letting out gasping breaths as you tried to contain your pain. You’d never considered yourself to be an ugly crier but right now you didn’t care, the pain that had been building up for weeks finally left you. Jake cried too, his chest shaking as he buried his head into your hair. He was never a man that cried, his father had drummed it out of him as a child. But right now he didn’t care, he was finally back with you and it was the best feeling in the world. “I’m so sorry,” he whispered into your hair.

You pulled away, looking up into his green eyes, “I’m sorry too, it’s all my…”

“Don’t say it, don’t even think about it. Nothing that happened is your fault.” Jake bought his hand up to cup your cheek. “I love you so much, Darlin’, please don’t ever blame yourself. We will get through this together. I promise.” You sniffed, wiping your nose in your sleeve and nodded.

“Come here,” Jake pulled you close against his chest again and you scrunched your legs up so you were cradled in his lap. The pain in your chest subsided slightly and as you sat there, wrapped up in Jake’s love you finally felt some sense of peace. The road to recovery was going to be a long and painful one, but Jake was there and he wasn’t going to leave.

Tag list: @callsign-phoenix @imjess-themess @blue-aconite @averyhotchner @mayhem24-7forever @green-socks @alexxavicry @a-reader-and-a-writer @topguncortez @maggiescarborough @callsignmaverick5 @ssprayberrythings @smoothdogsgirl @xoxabs88xox @luckyladycreator2 @abaker74 @elenavampire21 @classyunknownlover @okiegirl24 @sunlightmurdock @callsignaura @dempy @kiarabellerum31 @sarahjoestewy-blog @hotch-meeeeeuppppp @marvelogic @basiccortez

[cauliflowertree]

sirius black—until i found you. part one.

summary: sirius escapes from azkaban and journeys to find you. -> loosely based on the song ‘until i found you’ by stephen sanchez.

word count: 1.2k

fanfic no. 019

he had waited for this day for twelve excruciatingly insufferable years, had anticipated every response under the sun with which you could have possibly greeted him. from dawn until night he thought of only you: your face, your smile lines, the turn of your neck, how soft your skin felt to his calloused fingertips, and how much softer it would be after all this time.

though he promised himself never to doubt your love, he did find himself occasionally wondering whether you believed in the lie so many had fallen for. the carefully crafted crime peter pettigrew had left him to take the fall for. would his reuniting with you mean nothing but an escaped convict's deranged fantasy? but he could never think that way for too long, or he really would've turned out as insane as the rest of them trapped in the heavily guarded prison. you were the only thing keeping him from surrendering himself to azkaban's guards.

over the treacherous waters, fleeing the dementors and hiding in far away towns just hoping to hear word of someone he once knew, praying he would find you before he was caught again, sirius finally caught news—godrics hollow, you had never left. he should have known, should have expected that with almost everyone gone, you would cling to the last place where you had all been truly happy.

｡+ﾟ☆ﾟ+｡★｡+ﾟ☆ﾟ+｡★｡+ﾟ☆ﾟ+｡★｡+ﾟ☆ﾟ+｡

"rem, i'm just popping to the shops, we're out of milk!" you shouted up the stairs.

"alright!" came his muffled response.

fastening the buttons on your coat and reaching for your bag, you unlocked the front door and stepped onto the narrow, cold path that you and remus were forced to call a garden. you were about to lock the door when remus forced it open again, sticking his head out to ask you for some more tea biscuits.

"yes alright," you laughed. "almost had me screaming in your face then."

"sorry," he smiled sheepishly, shivering slightly before heading back inside the house.

there weren't many shops open this late on a sunday, in fact the only one that was, happened to be at the edge of the village. you'd bought a house on a particular street that meant you rarely ever had to walk past the ruin of the house you'd once shared so many happy memories within, but tonight you'd have to face it again. you never knew whether to stop and look and reminisce, or carry on and pretend it wasn't there.

during the daytime, you tried not to look if you had to walk past, too pained by the memories, by the knowledge of what happened there and the loss it caused you. but also that someone undesirable might catch you looking. however, you were alone tonight, and you couldn't help but stop at its front gate and peer into the broken windows, the shards of glass still faint with yours and your friends’ joyous, ghostly reflections. and yet, the house was now violated with dark magic.

"i miss you," you whispered quietly, tentatively reaching out to touch the gate voldemort himself might have laid hands on once. but instead of thinking of the darkness, you tried to remember all the times you had pushed open that gate, the times lily and james, sirius and remus, and even baby harry had pushed open that little gate.

sirius. perhaps after all this time, that was really the deepest pain you felt so profoundly. though each day you tried to put on a face of stoisicm, you could not neglect to remember that lily and james were dead, at peace, but sirius was alive, suffering, and not knowing whether the only two people he had left in the world believed him, fought for him, or even thought of him.

remus still woke you from nightmares sometimes. the nightmares all started like dreams—you and sirius happy, smiling, innocent as you once had been. and then they became distorted, twisted and warped and there was nothing you could do to stop it, nor was there anything you could have done to have prevented it.

｡+ﾟ☆ﾟ+｡★｡+ﾟ☆ﾟ+｡★｡+ﾟ☆ﾟ+｡★｡+ﾟ☆ﾟ+｡

sirius watched you from afar. he had followed you from your house you shared with remus, wondering if he had come twelve years too late but was so caught up in the relief of finally finding you that it didn't matter. after all this time, torment and pain, having a small part of you was better than having none of you at all.

he wondered now, as you stood before the potter's house, if you still thought of him, if you were thinking of him now. or if he had become obsolete in your life after his years of absence.

it was not out of the norm to see unusual things in godrics hollow, for it was largely a wizards' dwelling, but something felt off the more you stood before the cursed house. someone was watching you.

as your heart began to pound against your chest, you squinted through the darkness, trying to find a hint of a shadow that shouldn't have been there. you clutched your wand in your pocket and began to walk. the sound of your footsteps, your breathing, your heartbeat, it was driving you mad. you could probably apparate without causing much suspicion or outrage, but it was too risky coming up to the church.

and that's when you heard it, claws against the cobbled street, as if a dog was catching up to its owner. turning around, your instincts had been correct, but there was no owner around, nor a collar on the dog as far as you could tell from this distance.

but that dog...

sirius knew his cover was blown. he could tell by the way you were standing, just watching him with that curious expression. the one that people had when they couldn't quite recognise someone, or something, but were sure they knew it from somewhere. now was as good a time as any, he supposed, to expose himself and simply hope you had trusted him enough in your youth to believe him today.

right before your eyes, and perhaps other's, the dog transformed into a sullen, worn, human form, prison clothes dangling from his body and hair just as messy as his animagus'. he had nothing to lose and the promise of everything to gain.

"good godric," you choked, feeling the oxygen in your constricting lungs dissipate.

if it weren't't for the sheer panic that sirius would be caught, you'd have surely fallen to your knees. but your heart was in your throat and your stomach had plummeted and all you could think about was getting away from this public street where anyone could see him.

you began running down the path, holding your breath, clutching your chest. the closer you got, the faster the tears formed in your eyes; he looked so sickly, a phantom of the man he once was.

"y/n," sirius mumbled, a weak smile on his face as he looked down at you. it was as if he was in a dream.

with trembling hands you reached for his face, his sullen cheeks, pressing your palms against his winter-worn skin. your laboured breaths hung in the air around you, the white smoke blending into his complexion. was he a ghost? someone you were imagining?

"y/n," he muttered again, forcing the butterflies in your stomach out of their hibernation.

but your attention was quickly captured by unknown voices down the street, and you snatched sirius' arm, pressed his head to your shoulder, walked a few paces down the road where the street lights didn't illuminate and vanished with a snap!

🏷 @imabee-oralizard @sw34terw34ther @applebittenn @cherrystrees @mad-elia @velvetcloxds @natashxromanovf @masivechaos @ell0ra-br3kk3r @garfieldsladybird @flesh--amnesiac

[majesty-madness]

A Past Encounter - Bucky Barnes x reader (nsfw)

Summary: Being in a relationship with Bucky, Y/N prided herself on knowing him quite well but when she’s accidentally teleported back to 1940, Y/N discovers that there is a whole other Bucky that she has yet to meet. The sweet flirt that had everything going for him before his unfortunate capture by HYDRA.

Word Count: 4200+

Warnings: 40’s Bucky & Steve, flirty 40’s Bucky, small 40’s Steve, embarrassed Bucky & reader, angst, dreams, making coffee in 1941 (I researched it, it wasn’t as hard as I thought), secret room (?)

a/n: not proofread. Not everyone likes coffee but I’m adding it anyway

Series Masterlist

Main Masterlist

Chapter Seven

The room was expectantly lit with the rays of the sun from outside, shining down on them. Y/N gazed lovingly at the man beside her, one flesh arm, one metal arm. 

He was still in the world of sleep, not noticing her eyes on him as she traced every inch of him. 

This state of being always made her heart feel so full because this was nearly the only time in which he must have been completely at peace. 

Y/N couldn’t resist the smile forming across her cheeks, and then without thinking twice, she reached her hand out to gently trace her fingertips over the expanse of his bare chest. 

Her eyes opened tiredly, the first thing she saw was her left hand (like in her dream) reaching out but this time instead of it being to lay softly on Bucky’s chest, she was reaching out into thin air. 

She took a moment to lay exactly like that before her brain finally caught up with the present, and she retracted her hand back to herself. 

It was hard to tell at first, but Y/N soon realized that she still laid on the couch inside the 40’s Brooklyn apartment.

The sun hadn’t come up quite yet with the sky a shade of dark blue, the briefest of oranges mixing into the horizon as morning approached. 

Y/N raised her eyes up to the clock hanging from the wall opposite her. It read 6:30am. 

The boys probably wouldn’t be up for quite some time, she thought. Especially not on a Sunday morning.

If she knew anything about anything it was the Sundays were sacred before the dreaded workweek. 

Y/N turned to lay on her back, staring up at the ceiling with hands clasped over her stomach. 

She lay there completely silent, almost lifeless. Her mind wandered over the details of her dream, the man she loved so dearly, his peaceful state, his closeness. 

A sudden wave of grief washed over her and tears quickly rolled down her cheeks.

It had only been a few days but she missed Bucky so much. And even though he was here with her, it wasn’t the same. His love for her didn’t exist in this time, hell, she didn’t even exist. She ended up here on a whim with no control over where she’d land.

She just wanted to go home, the place she belonged wholeheartedly not stuck in the past where no one knew who she truly was or cared about her the way her friends did. 

Being in the past left her feeling unease seeing as how she was not familiar with anything and it left the sickening feeling of dread to settle in the pit of her stomach. Y/N wondered how safe she actually was here. 

She continued to stare up at the ceiling for a couple of more minutes before deciding she couldn’t lay down anymore. With an exhausted huff, she heaved herself up from the couch to sit up. 

Honestly, she didn’t feel that much better because now she could feel the remnants of a headache coming on. 

Did ibuprofen exist right now? Probably not. 

Y/N stood up from the cushion, straightening her nightgown as she walked into the kitchen. She eyed the metal coffee pot sitting all alone on the back of the stove. 

Right now she was trying to figure out how to successfully make coffee in 1941. 

She sighed then began whatever process she could remember from making her own traditional coffee at home though not as retro.

First, she looked around the kitchen for some coffee grounds, soon finding the new tin can that Bucky bought yesterday. She pulled it out and then set it on the counter next to the pot. Then she took the lid off the pot to discover a metal filter sitting inside.

Y/N sighed a bit relieved upon realizing that making coffee wouldn’t be as hard as she thought. 

She lifted the filter's own lid and poured a couple of scoops of coffee grounds inside it before sealing the top. Next was to boil water so Y/N got out a pan, filling it with water and setting it on the stove top to boil. 

Since she watched Bucky turn on the stove last night, she had a good idea of how to do it herself though she couldn’t help scold herself a bit for not knowing how to in the first place. 

Once the stovetop was on, Y/N stepped away from it to look out the window that overall the street down below. The sky still casted a darkened blue over the city with more dusted orange merging with it. There weren’t a lot of people out, expected for the time of morning, just a few cars passed by. Y/N figured they were probably shop owners getting ready to open up for the day. 

Though the olden city felt unfamiliar to her, there existed an odd nostalgic sensation residing in her heart. Obviously, she hadn’t been born anywhere close to the forties, but it was a time period she’d always found romantic in a way; not necessarily falling in love type of romantic or not just that, but also a sense of gratitude and togetherness that was difficult to find in her time. 

And it was true that a good chunk of the forties was captured by the fears of war, a war that hadn’t happened yet. Still, in Y/N’s mind, because of what had been at stake, people were more grateful for what they had. They cherished the people they had in their lives, they acted with respect, they were kinder, and loved more deeply and passionately than anyone in the 2000s. 

In some twisted way, the tragedy of war made people realize what they had and what they could lose. 

She often wondered why acts of suffering brought people so close together. It probably had to do with the fact that everyone could sympathize with each other’s pain, and therefore understood one another. 

The human soul reaching out and touching another in love.

Curiously, Y/N glanced back to the pot sitting on top of the stove, to see if it had begun to boil yet. She couldn't quite see it from her spot by the large window a few feet from the table so she took several steps forward to get a better look. 

It was easy to spot the bubbling water inside the metal pan, and Y/N quickly turned off the stove then grabbed the handle of the pan to pour the steaming water inside the coffee pot. The moment the water hit the coffee grounds, the smell wafted up and out around the kitchen. 

God, the smell of fresh coffee in the mornings smelled like heaven. 

Y/N rummaged through one of the cabinets sitting above the kitchen counters, pulling out an eggshell white porcelain mug. She waited another few minutes for the coffee to fully sink in and finally poured some into her cup with three sugar cubes she’d found while looking for the coffee.

Lifting the smooth edge of the cup to her lips, Y/N took a small sip; careful not to burn herself on the steaming liquid. It tasted a little more bitter than she would’ve preferred, however that didn’t stop the contented hum to echo in her throat. 

The sugarcubes made the heated beverage much more tolerable, and she decided that it wasn’t anything she couldn’t get used to over time. 

It had been a passing thought but it caused her to pause, beginning to analyze that statement more closely. 

What was she thinking? She couldn’t stay here, especially not long enough when minor inconveniences were something she adapted to and not when Bucky and her friends were waiting for her back home. There’s no way that she would opt to stay here, she didn’t belong here; her existence didn’t belong here. Whatever her heart wanted, whatever she was feeling didn’t belong in this time to make decisions, she needed to be rational. Even though Bucky and Steve were with her now, this was a time of their lives that she had no right to witness. 

She had to fix the device as soon as possible or else she’ll be stuck in the forties for God knows how long. 

“Y/N?”

The sound of her name startled a gasp out of her as she whipped her head over. Bucky, in a white t-shirt and striped pajama boxers, stood just outside of his bedroom. 

“Oh good morning.” Y/N greeted, letting out a relaxed breath. 

With his hand tucked under the rim of his shirt, scratching his stomach, he yawned. “Good morning.” 

A soft smile graced Y/N’s face as she watched a sleepy Bucky wade into the kitchen to pour himself a cup of coffee. She continued to do so even while he attempted to rub the tiredness out of his eyes, and the way he combed his fingers through his short messy hair. 

The morning version of him was a sight to behold. 

“What are you doing up so early? Last time, we were up before you.” Buck asked, already taking a sip of his coffee; adding no sugar whatsoever.

Y/N sighed as she leaned her backside against the kitchen counter, opposite of him. “Well you were right, the couch isn’t very comfortable.” 

Bucky snickered. “I told you.” 

“I know. I didn’t want to steal your bed from you.” Y/N shrugged.

Then Bucky leaned against the counter, his body now facing Y/N. His eyes briefly wandered over her form in her white nightgown, taking note of the edge resting just below her knees and the thick straps barely covering her shoulders. 

“We’ll have to figure out your sleeping situation then, since you won’t take my bed and the couch will probably turn you into a human pretzel.” 

Y/N quietly laughed. “Yeah, I suppose I’d rather stay the way I am, thank you.” 

Bucky hummed in agreement. There was a requisite pause between the two, eyes occasionally up to the other, making unusually long eye contact and awkwardly looking away. 

It lasted a mere few minutes, but Y/N didn’t want it to be awkward anymore so she walked away. “The city looks quite nice in the mornings. Peaceful.” 

“Yeah, it does.” Bucky engaged in the subject change, walking over to stand at Y/N’s side as she looked out the window. “No matter how long I’ve lived in New York, there are some things that never get old.” 

Though Y/N felt his presence beside her, she made no attempt to look at him. “I’m sure. The quiet of the mornings makes everything seem so tranquil.” 

She took another drink of coffee, knocking back what remained even if it burned a bit. 

Bucky had glimpsed out at the city, but his focus was on the woman standing next to him. He didn't know why, there was something about her that made him stop everything to look at her. There was no question that she was attractive, but wasn’t only that. The way she spoke, acted, conducted herself around others struck a chord in him. A chord he didn’t realize existed. 

Perhaps he was getting ahead of himself. 

“Do you want some more?” He suddenly asked when he saw her cup was now empty. 

Y/N looked down to see for herself that she drank what was left in her cup before handing it over to him. “Oh, yes please.” 

Bucky set his own cup down on the table then shortly thereafter, took Y/N’s cup from her hand to walk back to the kitchen. 

She watched him leave her side, the warmth of his presence floating away from her cold skin the farther away he got. Bringing up one of her hands, she began to rub it up and down her arm to ease the cold and hopefully warm herself up all the while her eyes drifted around the room. 

There wasn’t anything she was looking for specifically, more like she was trying to distract herself with whatever the environment had to offer. 

Nothing caught her eye, until she saw a stack of books resting on the shelf attached to the wall, near the front door. One book in particular peaked her interest. Across the spine of the book laid a single word, “Astronomy.” 

While the word itself didn’t strike any interest per say, rather the category of said word was what drew her attention.

It was then she realized that the subject of science itself may help her understand the device in which she kept hidden within her sweater. And where would there be a plethora of knowledge she would have easy access to?

“Do you want any sugar in your coffee?” Bucky’s voice echoed from the kitchen. 

Y/N snapped her attention back to the man that stood by the stove. “Uh, yes.” 

“How many sugar cubes do you want?” 

“Three is fine.” It didn’t take long when Bucky stepped out, and headed over to her; a steaming cup of coffee in his hand. 

“Here you go.” He handed off the cup to her and she carefully took it back. 

“Thank you.” She nodded, immediately taking a sip. 

Bucky leaned over again to pick his own cup from the dining table, standing back by the table instead of at Y/N’s side. 

“This is off topic, but..is there a library near here by chance?” Y/N asked. 

She saw Bucky’s eyes shift to the side as he thought about it. “Um, there’s one about a fifteen minute walk from here. Why?” 

Y/N shrugged once more while lifting her cup to her lips. “I figured I need something to do while you and Steve are at work.” 

“Oh that’s right. Yeah, you’d get pretty bored around here.” BUcky sighed at the realization he had to go to work tomorrow. 

“And I thought I’d see if they have any job openings.” Y/N added. 

Bucky clicked his tongue at her words. “You know you don’t have to work if you don’t want to.” 

“I want to. It’s the right thing to do, especially since you’ve been taking care of me the last few days.” She reasoned as she took a step closer to him, leaning against one of the dining chairs. 

“I’ll take care of you for as long as you want me to.” 

A heat rushed to Y/N’s cheeks as the words sunk in. She stared, dumbfounded at him a few seconds, her mouth opening and closing as she tried to find the words. “Thank you.” 

Bucky knew how that sounded coming from him and immediately back tracked. “I-I mean you know with the normal everyday stuff and what not.” 

Y/N nodded. “Y-yeah, I-I uh.. I knew what you meant.” 

“Um..” Bucky nervously stuttered while rubbing the back of his neck, his skin turning red from the friction. “Anyway, I’m going to take a shower. I’ll leave you to it.” 

“Yeah, okay.”

They both fiddled in their respective spots before Bucky left his mug on the table and quickly ventured off to the bathroom. 

When he shut the door completely, Y/N rested her cheek in the palm of her hand, taking note of how hot her face had become. 

________

Y/N stood by the front door, straightening out her sweater, and the device hidden in her pocket. “I’m heading to the library now.”

Bucky sat at the dining table, still eating his breakfast while Steve sat on the couch, sketch pad in his lap. 

“Be careful.” Steve said, looking up at her. 

She smiled. “I will.” Then her gaze jumped over to Bucky who still seemed slightly embarrassed from earlier. To be honest, so was she.

“I’ll see you guys a little later.” She bid them, then headed out the door. 

After his shower earlier, Bucky explained how to get to the library from their apartment; stay on the left sidewalk of the apartments, head down until she saw a post office at the corner, then turn left and the library should be there. 

She followed the instructions and sure enough, fifteen minutes later, she arrived at the aforementioned building. The structure of it was bigger than she anticipated, seeing as how most of the stores and shops she passed were relatively small in size. 

Though taking a longer look at the other buildings surrounding the library, she could see this was most likely the beginnings of the more popular area where everyone shopped. 

Y/N walked up the three stairs to the front door and walked inside. The first she saw was the wide front desk with the glossy wooden archways on both sides of it, each side leading to a different section of the building with a couple of steps leading up. She peered to the sections, seeing the rows and rows of tall bookshelves leading all the way to the back of the building. On top of that, she could make out the designated sitting area, wooden tables and chairs lined against the beige walls where the bigger windows sat with the flooring covered in a thin gray carpet. 

It was beautiful in the most rustic way, the type of aesthetic that she greatly appreciated.

Y/N actually took a second to admire the layout of the organized library, stepping up to the front desk a few moments later. 

Behind the desk was a woman, probably about Y/N’s age. “Excuse me?”

The woman looked up from behind her thick lens glasses, setting down a book she had been busy reading. She presented a lovely smile, her hair pulled back in a professional bun. “How can I help you?”

Y/N politely smiled back. “Yeah, hi, I was wondering where the science section was?”

“Are you looking to check out?” The woman asked. 

“No, I’m just browsing.” 

The woman then stood up and walked out from around her desk, heading over to the archway to her left. She pointed to it, “Heading through there, then walk all the way to the back; most of the science books are against the wall. Look for the plaques, they have all the categories on them.” 

Y/N nodded. “Thank you so much.” 

“You are very welcome.” The lady smiled then walked back to the desk to sit down. 

Y/N walked up the two steps into the section the lady pointed out, heading right to the back of the library. On the way there, she passed a number of different subjects like history, art, medicine, and so on. Eventually she arrived at the back, and saw all the different sciences that this library had to offer. 

Now the question was, which type of science did she need to research?

At first, Y/N didn’t see any categories that would be right in looking for information on her device, those categories being: behavioral sciences, botany, health, and biology. She really hoped they had more subjects than that, and she was proven right when she turned around another section of books to find what she was looking for. 

There were the subjects of engineering, mathematics, physics, and a numerous amount of subjects that might actually provide relevant information. 

She continued taking a look around the area, getting familiar with the arrangement of the library. The amount of books seemed infinite as the shelves stretched on, and she followed the path they took and as she did so, she began to pass another, smaller section of the building that broke off into a hallway. 

Her feet stopped right at the entrance of the hall, eyes peering down it to see all she could see. 

Curiosity struck her and she couldn’t help the desire to know what was back there so she broke off from the shelves and headed down the hallway. The hall itself was not long, maybe ten feet in length, lined with a couple of doors on each side; nothing too noteworthy. But it wasn’t until she reached the end of the hall that something caused her to perk up.

At the end of said hall, to Y/N’s right, there was a subsection leading downward in another hallway. This one was much smaller, probably barely able to fit two people shoulder to shoulder, and a few steps down was another door. 

This other section was easy to miss if you weren’t actively looking for it, had Y/N not been so curious, she wouldn’t have known it was even there. 

Though before stepping into that hall, she took a glance back from the area she just came from. There wasn’t anyone around, and since it was still fairly early in the morning, Y/N figured it'd be okay to explore a bit. 

After determining the coast was clear, Y/N stepped forward, heading to the single door in the smaller hallway. Upon closer inspection, she could see that this particular door was barely used. From what she could tell based on all the other doors she saw, the doorknob was old but hardly touched. The coat on this doorknob hadn’t been worn out by a number of hands grabbing onto it and then there was the keyhole which looked as though it hadn’t been changed or replaced in a long while, it’s possible there might not be a key for it at all. 

There was also the state of the door itself, the finish of the door looked dry and cracked almost. Clearly this part of the building had been long forgotten. 

Suddenly an idea popped into Y/N’s head; what if she used this room to fix her device?

Yes, it was a public building and yes, people were going to be coming in and out but she was going to need a private space anyway so why not a forgotten part of a library? Depending on the state of the inside, she could use this room whenever she needed in order to repair the device to its original working state. 

Y/N looked up at the exit to the hall, quietly listening for the sound of footsteps or any other distinguishing sound of a person coming. Several seconds passed and nothing, and with that Y/N plucked her hair pin from her head and bent down. 

Now on her knees, she stuck the pin inside the lock, strategically fiddling with the worn out locking mechanism. It took a few seconds of fidgeting with it, but with her experience, Y/N was able to open it without being noticed. 

She quickly stood back up, grabbing a hold of the doorknob to twist and push the door inward. 

The door made a creaking sound causing Y/N to pause for a moment, then she opted to squeeze her way through the small crack in the door she managed to open. Once inside, she carefully closed the door, with one hand on the door and the other on the doorknob. It didn’t make another sound until it clicked back into the lock and Y/N then locked it back up to keep from anyone coming in if they got suspicious enough.

It was dark, but not pitch black. 

On the opposite wall, there was a small, rectangular window covered by a thin curtain struggling to keep out the sunlight. With what light there was available, Y/N could make out the contents of the room. 

There were stacks of boxes lining the left side, covered with white sheets, turning a yellowish color from not being washed. A single table sat in the center, it too covered by a sheet, with no chairs sitting by it except for the few in the corner, which were missing a couple of their legs. 

Besides those chairs were several stacks of old newspapers and journals, tied together with a thin string and a tool box next to it. 

There wasn’t much to the room at all which made it the perfect place for privacy. 

Y/N took another once over of the room before looking around for a light switch. On the same wall as the door, there was the light switch; blackened metal and peeling paint. 

She flipped the switch up, causing a single light from above to flicker and struggle before staying on consistently paired with the buzzing of electricity through the bulb. 

While the light was dull, it still helped to light the room, making it much easier to navigate. 

Y/N finally took a step forward, toward the table, letting her fingers briefly trace over the scratchy material of the sheet covering it before grasping a corner, and ripping it away. The dust coating the sheet floated dramatically into the air, the sunlight revealing every speck that had been disturbed. She waved the dust from her face, eyes squinting a bit though never fully closing. Instead she kept eying the table, noticing it looked as old as the rest of the room but no less sturdy even with its scratched surface. 

It was a few seconds later that she let the covering fall to the floor, once again looking around the room to take in every detail, every crack in the wall, every piece of peeling paint, every microscopic speck of dust. 

It was perfect. 

To fix the device, she needed absolute privacy and this room definitely provided that. 

After all, what’s more secret than a lost room in the back of a library?

________

Tagged profiles

@honeyrydernot @spn-obession

[catdotjpeg]

Sunday evening marked the beginning of the Muslim holy month of Ramadan, as Israel’s relentless attacks on Gaza amid severe foot shortages continue. Instead of celebrating, Palestinians in Gaza are entering the month with heavy hearts.  The Palestinian Ministry of Foreign Affairs says Ramadan in the Gaza Strip this year is “unlike the holy month in previous years or anywhere else in the world,” especially in light of the destruction of all aspects of life in the Gaza Strip, including dozens of mosques. Ramadan has arrived as “Palestinians have been suffering from the lack and scarcity of food and drinkable water for more than five consecutive months,” it continued.  Half of the besieged enclave population crammed into the southern city of Rafah, many living in plastic tents and facing severe shortages of food. 

“Everyone we’ve known has lost a family member or loved one or someone they knew from their networks, which makes it very difficult for people. People used to prepare and start the first day of Ramadan with festivities, decorations, lights, and lanterns in the streets, markets, and mosques; the vast majority of those are now destroyed, according to Al Jazeera correspondent Hani Mahmoud from Rafah. Ramadan is usually filled with family feasts; however, Israel’s ongoing siege has rendered this almost impossible for those living in Gaza. Even where food is available, there is little beyond canned goods, and the prices are too high for many. Philippe Lazzarini, head of the UN agency for Palestinian refugees, says Ramadan is here as “displacement continues, and fear and anxiety prevail amid threats of a military operation on Rafah,” Gaza’s southernmost point.

“This month should bring a ceasefire for those who have suffered the most. They need respite and peace of mind. It’s long overdue,” he continued on X. Sabah al-Hendi, who was shopping for food on Sunday in the southernmost city of Rafah, told AP: “You don’t see anyone with joy in their eyes. Every family is sad. Every family has a martyr.” Meanwhile, in the north of Gaza, Palestinians continue to face famine, as severe food and aid shortages continue.

On Monday afternoon, two more children in northern Gaza died of starvation, reported Al Jazeera, citing local sources, bringing the total number to 27, most of them children who have starved to death. At least one in six children in the north are malnourished, according to the World Health Organization.  “I came here to buy but I can’t find anything to buy,” Sufian al-Yazji, a displaced Palestinian in the north, told Al Jazeera.

“There’s nothing, no dates or milk, or anything. One can’t find anything for their children. All these canned goods are full of germs that infect the stomach. We need vegetables and fruits to feed our children because they’ve weakened and will die from hunger.”  Over 2,000 medical staff in northern Gaza are exhausted and struggling to keep up under immense physical pressure with nothing to eat as they work around the clock, says the Palestinian Ministry of Health.  As a result of the lack of healthcare, bombing, starvation, and dehydration, the enclave’s elderly population are dying at an alarmingly high rate.

Euro-Mediterranean Human Rights Monitor said in a statement on Sunday that its team in Gaza “is recording nearly daily deaths among the elderly due to Israel’s systematic and pervasive crimes of starvation and treatment deprivation in the Gaza Strip, especially in Gaza City and the Strip’s northern regions.” “The majority of these cases do not reach hospitals, which are only partially operational in northern Gaza because of the difficulty of access given the ongoing Israeli military attacks. Consequently, after dying at home, the elderly are buried either close to their residences or in makeshift graves dispersed across the Strip. There are currently more than 140 such cemeteries,” Euro-Med said. 

-- From "‘Operation Al-Aqsa Flood’ Day 157" by Leila Warah for Mondoweiss, 11 Mar 2024

[uarmymoonlight]

"thus with a kiss, i die" - william shakespeare (part 1)

pairing: vampire hunter!jk X vampire!reader

genre: fantasy!au, historical!au, forbidden/secret relationship!au, angst, smut

warnings: explicit depictions of murder and blood, jungkook has a panic attack (twice, actually), fluff 

summary: in the moments prior to jungkook’s first real mission, he tries hard to block out visions of his past while simultaneously, and most importantly, remembering what your kind really is. even if your lips are as sweet as honey and your smiles as bright as the sun, you’re dying just like the rest of the bloodsuckers. he swears. 

author’s note: literally not a single thing here is historically accurate and that’s where the fantasy part of this fic resides, truly, bc vampires exist (real). i slightly based some of the dialogue on william shakespeare’s romeo and juliet - and fun fact, if you didn’t catch it before, the title of the fic is a quote from that play, also. 

words: 4.5K

cross-posted on AO3: to read on AO3, click here.

previous part (teaser) || part 2 teaser || part 2 || main masterlist ||

////

Jungkook’s village’s festivities for Easter Sunday are the best Easter Sunday festivities that have ever existed. He’s sure of it. Because never before in his entire life has he seen so much beauty and such abundance. Granted, he only left his village one time and, yes, he knows he’s only seven years old, but still, surely no other place could top what he’s seeing right in front of him at the moment. 

Jungkook is sitting against one of the smaller maypoles decorated with colored ribbons posted on the edges of the festival, from where he can see all of the area they use for it: a small clearing that has been filled with maypoles, a makeshift stage for the musicians, and many tents for food along with big wooden tables for the feast. Enormous trees surround the area creating a ring, as if isolating that little piece of land from the rest of the world. As if, in that little area walled by trees, the only witness to their existence is God himself.

The sun shines through the trees and on the creek that runs by, the sunlight’s reflection bathing everyone in a glimmering light that feels very much akin to a holy blessing. There’s music playing and there are people dancing and running and playing around wearing the biggest smiles they’ve ever sported as if they don’t have a care in the world. As if most of these people didn’t almost starve last winter. As if most of them won’t starve in the winters that are to come. 

But that doesn’t matter, because for today they get to eat. Because for the past few days every single seed that grew to become a vegetable, every single grain that was used to make bread, every single animal that was killed to provide meat, every single spice the village had has been brought to the clearing to be part of the big feast. The entire clearing looks just like the Garden of Eden. At least, it looks like what Jungkook thinks the Garden of Eden looks like, it feels like what he thinks the Garden of Eden feels like. Beautiful. Plentiful. Peaceful. Reserved. 

“Won’t you come dance, my little bunny?”

His mother asks as she walks over, her right hand pulling his father along. Both panting a little from having just participated in one of the dances. 

“Or will you sit there the whole festival?”

“No, not the whole festival. Just for as long as I can.” 

“As long as you can, is that so?”, his father chuckles “And when won’t you be able to stay here any longer, boy?”

“When it’s time to eat!” 

“Ah, really?” says his mother while his father only smiles wider. “So only food will make you enjoy the festivities?” 

“No, mother. I’m enjoying the festivities sitting here. But only food will make me get up.” 

“Oh, I see. Very well, if that is the case…” 

The woman puts her hands on one of her pockets and pulls out a small piece of marzipan cake, smiling mischievously as her son’s doe eyes grow bigger at the delicacy, the boy’s mouth forming a little “o” of amazement. Jungkook’s already getting up to take the cake from his mother’s hand when something jumps in front of him and grabs it before he can even fully stand up.

A cat. A cat stole his cake.

“My cake! Mother, my cake!” 

“Your cake? It came from my pocket, didn’t it?”

“Quick!” his father intervenes “The one who catches the cat may eat all of the cake!” 

Jungkook has been in this family long enough to know his parents don’t really care about cake. Chase or no chase, Jungkook is the child so he is the one who gets the cake. But he knows his parents care about him and about playing with him, so he doesn’t have to hear his father’s empty challenge twice. Jungkook bolts. 

Him and his parents chase the cat while it runs across the clearing - zigzagging through the maypoles, knocking over those still dancing, going under the big tables, around some of the tents - until the cat reaches the forest. Jungkook follows it, hearing his parents' laughter and footsteps right behind him, sometimes even seeing them in the corners of his eyes. He focuses on the cat, continuing to chase after it into the woods. Jungkook jumps over tree trunks, dodges twigs, steps onto rocks, runs around holes he can see on the earth, hears the crunching of leaves beneath his feet, the birds singing above him, he hears the bees flying past him buzzing his ear, he hears deer running somewhere to his left, he hears a scream. A piercing and terrible scream. A scream so loud Jungkook’s body abruptly stops, the speed at which he was going making him fall over and roll on the dirt. 

A scared Jungkook quickly gets up and calls “Mother!”, looking around him. He doesn’t see nor hear anyone. “Father!”, he tries. But no one comes. 

Again and again and again and again he tries yelling for them. But no one comes. He’s breathing heavy now, from all the running from earlier and the effort of screaming so much. Jungkook starts to feel the pains from his fall, body aching from head to toe. He looks at his surroundings and sees only the gigantic trees, all very close to each other, the direction he had tumbled from isn’t clear to him anymore. The boy spins around wondering where the clearing’s direction might be. He is panting hard. 

“Mother!” 

Like before, nothing. Jungkook doesn’t hear them, doesn’t hear their footsteps, their laughter, nothing. He doesn’t hear them. That’s when he notices that he doesn’t hear anything at all. Not the birds, or the bees, or deer, or any other sound of the forest. It’s a complete silence. 

In that complete silence and solitude, he feels desperation become a fist around his heart. His chest is tight and his vision is blurring and he can’t move because where does he even go? Where is the clearing? Where are his parents?  

Another horrible scream behind him and Jungkook falls to the ground terrified, arms covering his head. 

The screaming stops. He hears something but the screaming stopped. 

Shaking and nearly crying, Jungkook slowly moves around to peek through his arms at the source of the scream.

Right there, just a few steps away from him is the body of his mother drenched in blood, her once lovely face twisted in agony, mouth wide open and eyes rolled back. On top of her sits a hunched figure clad in a dark cloak, its bloodied hands holding his mother’s shoulder while its face is buried in her neck. 

Jungkook lets out a grieving moan and cries. The figure turns to him. Jungkook sees nothing but a bloodied chin. Something in him awakens and he runs, he runs and runs until he trips. 

With a thud, he realizes he tripped and fell on someone, he’s about to ask for help when he sees the blood. He looks at the person’s face and makes a horrified noise when he sees it’s his father, with his face as twisted and his neck as torn as his mother’s. Jungkook’s tears fall on his father’s face as he forces himself to get up once more and keep running. He runs and he runs and he runs and he hears another scream. 

He gets knocked up again and when Jungkook lifts his head, he’s back at seeing his mother’s dead body, hooded figure on top of her. Except now he can see the figure’s blood-painted face. 

Now he can see your blood-painted face. 

So he runs again, he runs again and he trips again and he sees you all bloodied again. So he runs, and he trips, and he sees you all bloodied, so he runs, and he trips, and he sees you all bloodied, so he - 

“Jungkook!”

He wakes up. 

He wakes up in their safehouse. 

“Jungkook!” It’s his brother, Namjoon, saying his name and shaking him awake. 

“I’m awake.”

Namjoon releases a breath and follows the younger one as both sit on the bed, Jungkook panting and sweating. He’s glad for the moments of silence Namjoon allows him to recompose himself before Jungkook has to deal with the questions he knows the other man already has on the tip of his tongue. 

“Go ahead. Ask.”

“Same nightmare?”

He nods, because there’s no point in lying about this. Not to Namjoon, at least, who would've seen right through Jungkook. Both of them had been in this exact position many more times than either of them can remember and Jungkook has shared with the older one more nightmares than days together. 

“It’s that same time of the year, so it makes sense that your thoughts and memories of it are resurfacing. I assume you still can’t see its face?” 

He hesitates. Because, yeah, for many years Jungkook couldn’t see the face of the monster of his nightmares. Until he met you. This is the fourth time this month he’s seen your face in his nightmares. 

“No”, Jungkook says.

Namjoon sighs, “Alright. Good. That’s good. We can’t have you distracted this week, we sent out some scouts who’ve reported that -”, he interrupts himself after taking a look at Jungkook’s state: not breathing as heavily anymore and the cold sweat is mostly gone, but his eyes are still unfocused and looking down, still breathing through his mouth and shoulders slumped. “Sorry. I…We’ll have time to talk about this tomorrow.” 

Before his brother can get up and leave, Jungkook grabs his arm. “No, please. No.” Namjoon sits down again “I-I’m just, I’m fine. I just…Just tell me.”

“Jungkook, you have to-”

“No. Whatever it is the scouts said, I need to hear it. If Easter Sunday will have as many vampires as Jimin thinks there’ll be, I need to know too, because I’ll be there too keeping watch on one of them, remember?” The older man still seems uncertain, so he adds “This is my first mission, brother, you can’t leave me in the dark. You can’t leave me.” 

His brother says nothing for a moment, then nods. 

“Very well. You’re right.”

Namjoon then goes over the information. How they’ve found more dead bodies discarded a few hours away from the city, all the bodies with the same profile - young adults, limbs torn off, broken bones, witchcraft symbols on their bodies, drained of blood. Suspicions that vampire and witches have been working together only growing stronger and more certain, even if they’ve never actually caught two of them together. 

The men then go quickly over the plans for Easter Sunday and after talking about where each hunter will be positioned, listing their weapons and supplies, Namjoon gives him one more task: get more information out of you. 

After a little debate, Namjoon succedes in making Jungkook agree to at least try to sleep a little bit more, since there are still a couple hours to tick by until sunrise. But not before Jungkook promises to go straight to your house as soon as he gets up.

// 

Your house fits you, Jungkook thinks. Or rather, your manor fits you. 

Standing tall over the other houses, the white-stoned building was located just a few miles away from the heart of the city, a low and vine-intertwined wall of its own surrounding the area to separate your family from the commoners. Three towers emerge from the brown roof of the manor, one of them bigger than the others being the most noticeable feature. Behind the manor sits a small, but still beautiful, house for the servants and a little white chapel Jungkook knows your family doesn’t use. The scenario is topped off with a beautiful tulip garden surrounding a big fountain at the front of the house. 

It’s a place as elegant, beautiful, and perfect as you are. At least, on the outside. 

Jungkook walks to the back of your manor, where its walls are separated from a merchant’s shop by a narrow alley. After checking that no one’s in sight, he uses some of the vines to climb over the wall, landing on the other side swiftly with the ease of someone who’s done this many times already. Jungkook is careful to avoid any servants, even if he’s pretty sure your family knows already, and he’s definitely seen a couple maids awkwardly pretend not to notice him. Thankfully, at this time in the morning, only a few of the workers are up. Still, he thinks it’s always better to fall on the side of caution, especially dealing with vampires. And, well, that is part of his whole…how can he put it? Character, he supposes, that he’s been playing for you so far. So he not-so-sneakily goes around the servant’s house, hiding himself behind trees and in shadows until he reaches a point beneath what he knows is your window.

Still partially hidden in the shadows of a tree, he picks up pebbles from the floor and starts chucking them at your window, quietly singing to himself. Soon enough, you show up at the window with a knowing smirk on your face and a playful tone in your voice.

“I know this voice. Is it you, Jungkook? Or is it a busker?”

“Neither, my lady, if both displease you.” 

He hears your little giggle and it slightly pisses him off. Because it’s just so easy with you, to just giggle away everything. And it’s so hard to not giggle back. He finally leaves from under the tree, fully in your sight now.

“Are you crazy, young man? My family will run you off with their brooms if you keep sneaking in.”

“My lady, I’m sure no harm can come to me as long as I’m under your gaze.” 

“How do you even get here, Jungkook?”

“My heart leads me here everytime. Smart thing, isn’t it?” your smile gets wider as your eyes sparkle with a tinge of mischief he’s sure paints his own eyes as well. “It even taught me how to jump over these cruel walls, my lady. It wants to be near its owner, I swear.” 

“Don’t swear. Even if I like to hear it.” 

“Then I’ll take back my swears, only to repeat them again for you.” 

You open your mouth to speak but suddenly stop when someone behind you calls out your name. You turn back to him with a sad smile.

“I have to go. And you must leave.” 

Jungkook panics a little and shouts for you to wait. “Do you really have to go? Can you not come out? Let me take you out for a walk.” 

He sees you look back with a worried look before hurriedly telling him to leave and wait by the shop next to your house, promising to meet him there in a few minutes. 

Jungkook leaves the same way he arrived: sneakingly. Except now more of the household staff is getting up and, as it’s happened before, he sees more than a couple of curious eyes not-so-subtly averting his direction. 

You arrive at the shop shortly after, your maid trailing quietly after you. Jungkook wonders if she knows what you are or if she herself is one of yours. The thought lasts only for a brief moment as you’re soon in front of him , a big smile on your beautiful face. He smiles back, “Time for act II”, he thinks.

“Ready for some fun, my lady?”

“I suppose it’d depend on the kind of fun. What do you have in mind?”

Jungkook only answers with a roguish smirk and then takes your hand, dragging you away. He stops first at a florist to give you a small bouquet composed of lavender, yarrow, iris, and snapdragon. Afterwards, he says he’ll take you to a jewelry shop nearby, to which you answer in between giggles “Is this your idea of fun? Jungkook, you’ll spoil me rotten!” 

“I’ll try my very best to do so, my lady, I swear.” 

You warn him as you did earlier today about his swears while entering the shop. Your maid follows at a small distance. Jungkook knows you’ve been to this before, because he’s seen you and your family come by a few times to do business or to purchase some luxurious pieces. It’s not a particularly big shop, but the size of the building is compensated for by the big size of the gems on the products. 

“Jungkook” you pull on his arm to make him face you, a small smile on your face “What are we doing here?”

“My lady, you know, I spend a lot of time looking at you” you squint your eyes a little bit and Jungkook knows you’re already thinking of how to tease him “So I couldn’t help but notice these beautiful earrings of yours.”

He sees your eyes open and widen a bit, your smile falters a little. 

Your earrings are two bright, blood red ruby stones framed by small diamonds and pearls, all tied together by silver. Oftentimes Jungkook swears he can see the stone move in itself. It’s an alluring, mysterious piece. 

“My lady, I hope you’ll forgive my indiscretion now, but -” you interrupt him with a mock-disapproving look. 

“Jungkook, you’ve never bothered with discretion.”

He smiles and restarts “Well, my lady, you see, I did not mind the indiscretion of all the times before. Nevertheless, now, I mind it, for I do not wish to insult you” Jungkook steps closer to you, “These earrings, were they a gift from another fellow?” 

Your mouth is shaped in a small “o” form, not having expected the question. It takes only a second for you to recover.

“Why?”

“Because if I am to buy you a necklace that compliments these beloved earrings of yours, it’d do me well to know who else buys you jewels.” 

Jungkook sees you hesitate a little before you finally tell him your brothers gave the pieces to you. 

“They’re a family heirloom.” 

He thinks to ask more about it, but as he sees you slightly stepping away from him, gaze looking down, Jungkook decides that’s a battle for another day. 

The owner of the shop, then, comes forward and you and Jungkook get swept by the man as he presents fitting necklaces for you. After a while, you pick a delicate silver chain and a red tear-drop shaped pendant dangling from it. Not nearly as exuberant as your earrings, you, however, assure Jungkook that you like it just as much. 

“It’s extraordinary value was established the moment you meant for it to be a gift for me”, you tell him. “And…Jungkook?”

“Yes, darling?”

“I have something for you too.” You pull out from your pocket a silver locket and place it on his hand. Jungkook takes a look at it and sees that there’s an intricate art engraved on it of leaves and bushes and, at the center, a  little rabbit. Impatient for a reaction, you say anxiously “That is how your mother called you, is it not? Little bunny? I…well, I had hoped I could wait until Easter Sunday, I thought you’d need some strength, but, alas, I wanted to spoil you a little as you’ve done to me.” 

Jungkook keeps staring at the locket, your words being heard but not listened to, being pushed, instead, to the back of his mind as he tries to stay in the moment rather than think about his mother. His mother had a locket with a rabbit engraved as well. You call his name softly once. He forces himself to snap back. 

“I…I-I, yes.” Jungkook shakes his head briefly and blinks a few times “Yes, she did. I…didn’t think you’d remember all that”, he scoffs. 

“Well, I do. To have lost your mother at a young age…I’m sorry, Jungkook.” I am too, he thinks “Smallpox is a terrible disease.” He only nods. 

“Thank you, Y/N.” 

You squeeze his hand and smile at him. Jungkook takes your hand and kisses it, taking a bit longer than needed with his eyes closed.

Your maid clears her throat and he puts your hand respectfully on his arm. With the both of you now wearing your new possessions, you leave the shop. You leave smiling sweetly and he leaves with a heavy heart.

Lost in his own thoughts, Jungkook keeps walking with you by his side.

And it always hits him at the most inconvenient of times that you may actually be a good person. And Jungkook almost feels guilty for plotting your death while you're smiling so sweetly at a little girl as both you and her help a kitten off a tree. But just as soon as the feeling begins, the warnings of his brothers whisper in his mind reminding him how manipulative your kind is - how manipulative you are. His brothers have no reason to lie to him about you or about the stories he's heard since he was a child. The stories of those who took his parents from him, the stories that haunted him, plaguing his dreams with blood and death until he no longer wanted to dream. Stories of those like you.

Jungkook tries to shake off these thoughts and softens his face when he sees you coming back to his side, now that the kitten is free and the little girl is on her way.

"Fourth time this month. Same time, same tree, same cat", you tell him with a smile.

"I don’t understand why Soo-Ah doesn’t just adopt him”, Jungkook scoffs “Would save her the trouble of having to save him every other day.”

“It would. But it’d also take away his freedom of coming and leaving when he wants and of chasing that same squirrel that goes up the tree and disappears. Not to mention one more crucial factor.”

“What?”, he waits confused, eyeing your mischievous smile.

“Helping Soo-Ah with the cat uses up enough of her time that when she reaches the bakery the breads will be fresh out of the oven. She won’t need to wait even a second to get them.”

You give Jungkook another one of your pretty smiles, those he can’t help but answer with a smile of his own, and there it is again. That same feeling from earlier telling him you’re a good person, after all. Fangs and blood-sucking aside.

So Jungkook takes your hand to continue your walk together. It’s only after you’ve entered your house, leaving him with a kiss, that a shadow crosses Jungkook’s face and he heads to meet his brothers, the men waiting hungrily for the right time to kill you.

previous part (teaser) || part 2 teaser || part 2 || main masterlist ||

/////////////

author's notes:

the initial point was for this to be the first and only part, however i'll right a 2nd part bc some things i wanted to put here didn't really seem right. i also have a few ideas for a 3rd part, depending on how the other parts will be received and how i’ll feel about this fic in the future. this is why i ask for you to, if possible, give me feedback or just your general thoughts and impressions of this part. reviews are a great motivation! 

also, as it was said in the beginning, some of the dialogue was inspired by william shakespeare’s romeo and juliet. i used these sources for inspiration and reference: https://pt.slideshare.net/1977LS/peca-teatralromeuejulietaparaescolas and    https://myshakespeare.com/romeo-and-juliet/act-2-scene-2 

fun fact - these are the meanings of the flowers that were in the bouquet jungkook gave to the reader: snapdragon - graciousness, deception / lavender - distrust / iris - faith, trust, wisdom, hope, valor / yarrow - everlasting love. and rabbits almost always symbolize prosperity, abundance, good luck, and fertility.

taglist: @luaspersona @kookpeas

[whatsk-poppinhomies]

Nana rant time because I've been putting up with some shit at work and I need to vent! (also, I'm still writing requests, I should have enough to queue up for the week once I finish this last one. And then I'll work on more for the following week. I'm trying to have a system and a schedule)

ANYWAY! So my shitty ex was finally terminated from the job that we both worked at. I was so happy, the drama was gone, I felt like I could breathe again! It was amazing! Sure, I had to work by myself three days in a row, but the actual store manager is the coolest and allows me to wear my headphones so I can just get in my zone and get shit done.

Everything is going great, and then I get this message from my work friend/work mom. Her daughter got hired. Now... Her daughter is only 17, so she isn't much help anyway, but on top of that, I've heard some shit about her daughter from her. The way she described her daughter for the past 8 months, this girl seemed like an absolute nightmare.

Queue me internally panicking because I have to work with this kid.

So she works with her mom first, and obviously her mom is going to say "she did great!" ya know, it's her kid and all, I guess she's gotta hype her up in some way. So I'm like, "okay cool, this kid works. Work mom wouldn't lie to me about that."

SO THEN SUNDAY COMES

And this kid comes over to me and says "Are you *Nana?" and me, being the cheerful, happy, super nice person that I am, I'm like "Yeah, hi! How are you?" And she just hits me with a "my mom says I'm better than you."

Like... Okay?? WTF WAS THAT SHIT?! Whatever, I'm just trying to work and not be stressed.

So, I continue trying to be nice to this girl. I buy her an energy drink because she wants one, I'm just trying to be a good person. I let her come out with me during my smoke break... And then she starts spewing some unnecessary family drama to me... Which was really awkward for me because like... I don't know this girl other than what her mother has told me, and I've heard some stories... Some fucking horror stories about this kid. So I just do the awkward smile and nod thing. I'm just trying to enjoy my cigarette before I start frying.

I get back inside after my mini smoke break that was less peaceful than I wanted it to be because this kid would not shut up. I start frying my donuts, and she just SHITS ON ME. Everything I do, she's just criticizing it to the point where I'm about to just throw down my frying sticks and walk the fuck out. Everything I did I was apparently doing it wrong, even though Sunday was only her third fucking day of working.

On top of criticizing my every move basically, she didn't do shit?? How the fuck is she gonna say that her mom said she's better than me when she didn't fucking do anything??? She's allowed to have a 30 minute break while only working 5 hours because she's a minor, but then she just takes it upon herself to take an HOUR break because she needed more time with her boyfriend I guess.

I end up working until almost 1 in the fucking morning on Sunday because the kid literally didn't do ANYTHING.

So then I got to work by myself monday, happy as hell, living the life, got out of work by 10pm because I'm just good like that. I don't need help.

But then I have to work with her on Tuesday. So I go in early. I go in THREE hours earlier than my regular schedule, because on top of being stuck with the worlds most conniving, manipulative, down-right shitty, brat, I also have to make everything that everyone else is too fucking lazy to make. I try to ignore the kid when she does come in, I already started frying, so she has donuts to decorate already and I just assume she's going to stay in her fucking lane and decorate them since she's "so good" at it. But no... She starts trying to glaze. And in the process of trying to glaze, she shits on the glaze I just made because it's "too thick". Like bitch, it's fresh! It's not watered down. IT'S SUPPOSED TO BE THICK! FUCK OFF AND GET AWAY FROM MY GLAZER!

I tell her to start decorating. She doesn't want to do that yet because the donuts are too hot. Get good, kid. If you were as good as me, you'd be burning your fingerprints off like I do and filling the fucking donuts. But no. She's a whiny little shit face who doesn't wanna fucking do anything but wants to get paid to stand around and act like she's queen shit just because her mom has been working there for 7 years.

Anywho, I take my little cool down break, which is like 7 minutes tops, just the right amount of time to smoke a ciggy and get back in before my next rack of donuts are done. AND THIS BITCH! She has the nerve to ask ME if she can take another hour break like on Sunday because that was "fun". OF COURSE IT WAS FUN! YOU DIDN'T HAVE TO DO FUCKALL AND YOU STILL GOT PAID AND I GOT STUCK WITH THE WORK. So I told her no, that I didn't want to get in trouble for it, and I didn't want her to get in trouble (because I'm still trying to look out for her for some fuck ass reason), and THIS FUCKING BIIIITCH says "well who's gonna catch me?" ARE YOU FUCKING KIDDING ME?! THERE'S CAMERAS EVERYWHERE!!! Spoiler alert : She did get caught because her ass tried to take another extended break. Eat shit, kiddo.

I was off work tonight, and her mom texts me and says "She did really good tonight, she filled the marshmallow, she came back in from her break at the right time." OF COURSE SHE DID! SHE'S NOT GONNA DO THAT SHIT IN FRONT OF HER OWN MOTHER! THAT DOESN'T CHANGE THE FACT THAT SHE'S A FUCKING BITCH WHEN SHE WORKS WITH ME! I DON'T WANNA WORK WITH HER ANYMORE!

Long story short, I'm about to lose my fucking shit and I still have to work with the worlds laziest, brattiest fucking child and I'm overworked, underappreciated, underpaid, and expected to just put up with constant bullshit by everyone. I can't find a new job fast enough.

[fanfic-recs-01]

Bakudeku Fics

This is a list of Bakugou Katsuki/Midoriya Izuku fics I like on AO3, if you have any recs for me feel free to send me some!

Updated 6/15/24

The Different Ways In Which I Can Call You Mine by EquinoxSolstice

~Apparently, Bakugou Katsuki is the kind of person that uses pet names when he's in a serious relationship. Who knew?

hiding in plain sight by saturnsorbit

~(a.k.a. katsuki and izuku are dating, they thought everyone knew. apparently not.)~

Every Saturday Afternoon by AmeCaeli

~Every week on the Saturday, Bakugou leaves the dorms and doesn't return until evening, and the bakusquad are determined to find out where he goes! However, none of them expected the results!~

Bakugou Katsuki’s Boyfriend by lunasayuu

~A quirkless Midoriya fic where him and Bakugou are WELL acquainted outside of their respective schools. Bakugou's mother throws a surprise birthday party for Bakugou’s 17th allowing the Class of 1A to learn more about his private life…~

mondays and sundays (and saturdays and fridays too) by eqyptiangold

~No one at UA believes that Katsuki Bakugou has a boyfriend at another school.

Especially not the adorable, freckled, curly green-haired boy that sneaks into the dorms with a sweet grin on his face while asking for “Kacchan.”~

The Curious Case of Mrs. Midoriya Izuku by EquinoxSolstice

~“Mon ami, you’re very fortunate indeed to have a wife that makes you bentos every single day! And she does it before she goes to work herself? How dévouée!”

An awkward scratch to the back of the head.

“T-Thank you. K-Kacchan will be happy to hear that… I think.”~

Pro Hero Dynamight is Dating WHO Now? by EquinoxSolstice

~Midoriya Izuku, known in the hero world as the leading quirk analyst of the modern times, was a typical young Japanese man. He’s a mumbling self-taught researcher, bonafide hero nerd, and self-proclaimed number one fan of retired hero but greatest-of-all-time, former Symbol of Peace All Might.~

Case Closed by spicymacaron

~The squad finally meets Bakugou’s mysterious long-distance boyfriend, Deku, but he’s not what they expect.~

a rose by any (other) name by HeyAssbuttImBatman todobakudeku

~Katsuki’s life is one giant cosmic joke, so of course something goes wrong when he’s sent on an easy mission to a mad scientist villain wannabe’s comic book lookin’ ass lab. Now he’s got an uncontrollable second quirk: he teleports directly to the side of the people whose name he speaks, which shouldn’t be a problem considering his penchant for rude nicknames.

At least, it wouldn’t be a problem if his big fat gay crush on the Pro Hero power couple of Todoroki and Midoriya didn’t make him say their real names with, frankly, pathetic frequency.~

Told You So by myshipsdontsail *New

~“Deku. When I become the number one hero, you’re going to marry me.” His red eyes stare at Deku’s intently.~

love in hidden places by saturnsorbit  *New

~As the receptionist at Dynamight’s hero agency, lovingly called ‘Ground Zero’, Yui has had her fair share of run-ins with suitors seeking the pro hero’s affection.

So why did this one seem so different?~

A Hero by Any Other Name by SaysiWrites  *New

~Bakugou loses his memory in a fight and has to meet his classmates all over again. Surprises are in store for those who thought they knew him.~

Who the fuck are you?! by miraculousemily47 *New

~Aizawa decides to test Class 2-A without their knowledge. He ropes Midoriya into it, but unfortunately for them, Bakugou knows his nerd too well to be fooled.~

ask for kacchan by deadwriter16

~After having to move out of Ochako's apartment, Izuku is in need of a new place to live. Thankfully, he finds an ad written by three people in need of a fourth roommate. Izuku immediately accepts, excited to meet them.~

Come Find Me in the Ashes by amarisllis 

~Izuku has a resurrection quirk; he can bring things back from the dead. One year ago, just before he and Katsuki were set to start UA togther, he disappeared, and no one has seen him since. Katsuki, and everyone else, believed him to be dead.

Until now.~

[argentnoelle]

troublemaker [on ao3]

Junmo isn't tempted by the case. Not really. [episode 1]

The bright sun and the fields of Euemseong had been enough to drive away the shadows, once. Park Junmo, exiled to such a place, had learned the peace of waiting in silence while the reeds rippled, and the ease of letting down his guard, in the small police station, with his desk overflowing with papers, the same few problems, never very serious. There was no one worse than him here. He learned to smile, how to feel dirt under his fingernails while his hair curled in the rough wind, his colleagues making good-natured jokes about his wild attitude. That’s Park Junmo, the city-boy; is everyone like that in Seoul?

Which Seoul are you talking about? Is it the one Euijeong came from, with its wide streets and apartments shaded by the trees, family of proud cops all framed under glass, churchgoing every Sunday? Knickknacks over every surface, tables piled with food. When Euijeong was promoted it took her back to the city, and she’d known he was bitter about it, although he said nothing but you deserve it. She did, and she fit into the creases of her black uniform gracefully. The SMPA should know what a precious thing they had. They should take care of it—but they probably won’t.

It doesn’t matter. Euijeong is quite capable of taking care of herself.

Yes, in the slums Junmo came from everyone was like him. Attitude was the one thing that overflowed; you may have nothing but you have pride, don’t you, and anger, restless anger, itching under your skin, anger at the man, anger at yourself your parents the whole world; but it hadn’t singled Junmo out until he tried to walk softly into Euijeong’s middle-class life and all he was, suddenly, was not good enough for her. You see, he’d thought he’d known what he was taking on. He’d thought he’d learned to take it, the sneers all through school, the teachers whose gazes glazed over him, the label “troublemaker” printed over his head before he even opened his mouth. It didn’t bother him because they were all fucking assholes really. Euijeong loved him, he loved Euijeong, and it made him feel so young and stupid, like a lovestruck fool. Dating clandestinely during patrol, sneaking kisses and gifts back and forth, the look of that silver ring shining on her finger—it was a beautiful dream and it said you’ve made it, Junmo, you’ve made it, you can forget the past. Then on the day of their wedding his father trailed in dragging the past with him like a rotting carcass, and from that day forward Junmo was not just rough around the edges, he was once again “the drug addict’s son.”

He didn’t want to go back to Seoul. He would have liked if Euijeong stayed with him, out in Euemseong where no one gave a fuck about his father, where his leather jacket was a quirk only and not a suit of armor. But Euijeong was going to rise in the ranks. She was going to make it. It was something she’d confessed to him before they married. It was something he’d known from the start.

“Junmo, there are a lot of guys who want me, but I would never even think about choosing them. You know why? Because they don’t want me. Not really. They want the sweet face I put on—you know—when I smile like this? They like the soft way I talk when I’m being polite. I’m a good girl, you know, I’d make a good wife—is what they’re thinking. And I do want that. But I’m not going to put anything above my career. And so… to even think abut dating someone who expects otherwise… I feel like I’m leading him on.”

“I know that, Euijeong,” Junmo had replied. He’d smiled at her, gently, his eyes crinkling at the corners. “Don’t you know it’s why I like you?”

It’s one thing to be a career couple when you both have prospects, but years later and now she’s back in the city and Junmo isn’t, and he’s beginning to realize that no matter how much he works for it, it’s never going to happen for him. Just like in school, he’s painted before he even opens his mouth. No, no—he’s had enough of ambition. In these lazy summer days, Park Junmo practices not giving a fuck, learning how to not try. If he never gets around to studying for the exam they can’t flunk him—isn’t that how it goes?

If he gets into fistfights in school, then he didn’t really care about doing well in the first place.

Something like that.

He doesn’t miss Seoul, anyway. He doesn’t miss the light and the noise, he doesn’t miss slipping into the crowd where his braggadocio isn’t anything to look down on, where he doesn’t have to keep bending his head. He doesn’t miss the days spent hungry and bitter and watching his father spend the money on meth, watching him smile and slip into a place that exists only in the drug, leaving Junmo behind, with that gnawing pit in his stomach, the sting of bruises. He doesn’t miss getting into trouble and then running, running like his life depended on it, with a group of kids he barely knew, and laughing when their pursuers were gone—the smell of spray paint, the video games with which they frittered away pointless afternoons, and under the night-dark sky, throwing rocks through broken windows just to see them shatter, glitter like so many stars.

There’s only one kind of place you end up, a kid like that; you can’t live within the law so you either become it or it eats you. Junmo’s chosen his path and he’s happy, you know, not seeing the inside of a jail cell. Dohyung had been his foothold in. The man is kind, and his kindness comes at a cost, but so does most people’s—that doesn’t mean it isn’t real. Dohyung thinks—he’s never said it outright—that he’d shown Junmo the possibilities. Rescued him, given him a chance, Good Samaritan that he is. Well, he’s not wrong that Junmo never wanted to be a cop before Dohyung came to him and said it:

“Junmo, if you want to get into fights you should join the police.”

With a split lip and blood on his teeth Junmo had given him a grin: “sure, hyung. I’ll just sign up—your colleagues will love me.”

“I’m serious, Junmo.”

He always had that worried tone in his voice, Dohyung. Like everyone he didn’t personally save weighed on his heart.

“Me.”

Dohyung looked at him. Nodded.

And it was the first time anyone ever told him they thought he’d amount to anything. So.

It’s been years since then and Junmo thinks he’s at least paid off that debt. He’s kept himself off the streets, he’s married, he’s happy, he’s at fucking loose ends but he’s no one’s problem anymore. So when Dohyung shows up with this stupid idea Junmo doesn’t feel bad about telling him exactly what he thinks of it, this going-undercover-to-catch-thugs shit. “There’s a lot of other cops who can do this.” And Dohyung wants to give Junmo a chance. He’d been the one to see the pride wear off slowly, the shine dulling over with time: Junmo was a cop and he was going to be the best. He was going to make it.

He got his foot in the door because of Dohyung, and Dohyung had known before Junmo did that he wasn’t going to get any higher up the fucking ladder without something crazy happening. So there’s no reason for Junmo to refuse, is there? Except that Dohyung thinks this is the mission for him—him, Park Junmo—because even after all this time his past is knocking at the door, his father’s voice still as loud as it ever was when he got high and suddenly couldn’t stand the sight of Junmo who was after all another mouth to feed and who never got the picture, never knew when to shut up. You’d think he’d’ve learned how to back then, but he never did. Even when it hurt him more, got him into deeper shit, Junmo took pride in it, his smart mouth. It wasn’t until he met good people like Dohyung that he learned to keep quiet and pretend. His father would be so proud, wouldn’t he?

Oh, he would laugh his fucking head off. “Junmo, you piece of shit, you really think they care about you?”

From the last person who understands about care—Junmo is justified in throwing that one out.

You beat me to hell.

“I never claimed to care about you, Junmo. You always knew I’d put the meth before anyone else.”

Dohyung is, after all, a good man and he’s a practical man, too, and Junmo is the one for the job, maybe, because there’s plenty of cops who could take this mission but no one else suited for it the way Junmo is.

Dohyung, at least, is trying to help.

Cho Changsik is just an asshole.

“Even I wouldn’t give a promotion to a drug addict’s son.”

You weren’t imagining it. No one’s going to give you a chance. Not unless you do the dirty work. But you’re used to that, aren’t you. Well, hell. Who would Junmo be if he turned the man down, anyway? Didn’t he want to make something of himself?

After this mission, he’ll be in Seoul again. He’ll be with Euijeong. They won’t have that gulf between them, that hanging pity in her eyes.

Should he want to leave her behind? Can he?

He’s already made up his mind.

The city was whispering to him in his dreams for a long time.

[ao3]

[aetherspoon]

Memories

Facebook memories are always an "interesting" thing to read through every so often.

Today it includes seven or eight years worth of travel trackers (this year's tracker will be this Sunday, for you travel tracker fans), conversations with friends, and me announcing my mother's impending death due to cancer.

It was four years ago when I found out she had stage four colon cancer; she actually found out for sure while I was flying down there, but had already known how severe it was prior to then and just didn't bother telling me.

I spent a bit under a week with her then, trying to cheer her up and make sense of a senseless situation. It was one of the most brutal beatings of mental health of my life though, seeing the eternally strong woman reduced to someone having delusions and bed-bound. I wasn't exactly in the greatest mental state before heading down there, but afterward I was labeled suicidal.

I couldn't return, on account of that. My mother knew that I wouldn't be returning, we had talked about it while I had a not-so-restful night sleeping in the chair by her hospital bed. I didn't mention the exact details in order to give her more peace of mind.

Within a month, she was gone. She had only been in hospice for two days.

Within two months, my partner had flown in from Norway for me and we had serious discussions about relocating to Norway.

Within three months, I started having major arguments with my previous employer. Arguments that, not too long later, led me to leave the company.

Within four months, the pandemic started hitting and lockdowns became common.

Within five months, I saw how the US handled things and knew I had to leave, if only for my own safety. The "debate" turned into a finalized decision to leave the US.

Within six months, I was booking flights every day to try and get my partner out of the country, temporarily costing me around 12000 USD (no, that's not a typo) in fares for cancelled flights just to get them home.

My world changed so dramatically in those six months that I don't even know how to describe it - "everything" changed, and covid wasn't even the most major part for me.

That posting was the start of a very bad year for me and the climax of the Decade of Hell known as my 30s.

I don't know where I'm going with this post, I just felt like I should make one.

I hope everyone enjoys the upcoming autumnal and winter holidays.