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babydollmarauders · 2 years ago

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BEGIN AGAIN — NICO HISCHIER

nico hischier x fem!reader

request: “Hi I have another request if that’s okay with you! It’s another Taylor inspired one of course. Could you do a fic with Nico inspired by Begin Again. The ex boyfriend in the song could be Trevor or some other hockey player to add some angst.”

summary: eight months after having her heart broken, y/n regains hope in love after meeting meeting Nico.

warnings: mentions of cheating

notes: this is one of my favorite Taylor songs and i got SO EXCITED when i saw this request! i wrote this with Mat Barzal in mind as the ex-boyfriend, just because i wanted to keep it as someone kinda close to the NJ area, but not another Devil, however i’m sorry if that upsets anyone. he’s only mentioned a couple of times, so if you wanna imagine him as another hockey player named “matt” you have full right to do so.

“it’s been eight months babe, maybe it’s time for you to get back out there.”

logically, i know Nicole is right, but the thought of dating again causes a shiver down my spine. i’ve had some of the worst luck with boyfriends, most recently my ex, Mat. after ten months of dating, in which my friends kept telling me he had too many red flags, i caught him in bed with a girl he used to tell me was like a sister to him. since we broke up eight months ago, i’ve given up on finding someone to spend my life with. but my friends haven’t fully accepted my disbelief in love, urging me to try again, and with how lonely i’ve been recently, i’m warming to the idea.

“you know, Jesper has a teammate i could set you up with. i think you guys would really hit it off. and think about how fun it would be to go to games together!” Nicole speaks again, breaking through my self-pity filled thoughts.

“i don’t know. i don’t know if i wanna date any more hockey players, Nic.” i take my eyes off my half painted toenails, looking at her from across the couch. “i’ve only had bad experiences with them. i think Matt was my tipping point.”

“give them one more chance! they’re not all like that. i think you would really click with this guy. just one date! and if you don’t have a good time then i won’t persist.”

“one date?” i ask.

“one date.” she confirms, i shrug and focus back on my toenails, finishing my painting.

“okay. one date.” i tell her. Nicole squeals and sets her own nail polish down on the coffee table, jumping up and doing a little happy dance. i let out a laugh and roll my eyes.

not too long after our conversation, there’s a knock on my apartment door and Nicole’s boyfriend walks in. i met Nicole about a week after i moved to New Jersey, two years ago. we first became quick friends after meeting at a bookstore and bonding over our love for mysteries. then when she started dating Jesper, he fit right in and our duo has become a trio. they soon moved in together a couple apartments down the hall from me and now it’s become a routine for her to hang out over here while he’s at practice and he comes to get her once he gets home.

Jesper greets me with a hello before kissing his girlfriend on the top of the head. Nicole beams up at him and i feel a twinge of envy settle in my heart. i love their love, and i can’t help that there’s a part of me that feels like i’ll never get that kind of connection with someone.

“babe! you’ll never believe what happened!” Nicole squeals.

“what?” he asks, amusement laced in his voice and a smile on his face.

“y/n agreed to let me set her up with Nico!” he chuckles and looks over at me. i give a dejected shrug and he shakes his head.

“always the little matchmaker.” he chides, amused, before he jokes. “well, come on, you meddler. let’s go back to our own apartment and let y/n/n wallow with her Taylor Swift in peace.”

“i resent that.” i pipe up. but he just raises an eyebrow at me and i sink farther into the couch. okay, so maybe he’s not far off. i do have a habit of cranking up some Red (Taylor’s Version) and getting wine drunk.

Nicole and Jesper leave, with her promising to text me about a date between me and this Nico guy.

and true to her word, i wake up the next morning with a text from Nicole.

From: Nicole

wednesday at noon! at the café down the street! here’s his number: Nico Hischier, (xxx) xxx-xxxx . HAVE FUN!

i have to admit, i admire her dedication.

wednesday morning came faster than i wanted it to, and i kept my expectations low, expecting the worst from this date, as usual.

i show up at the café at exactly noon, contradicting my usual early arrivals, as guys never actually show up on time. but when i step into the café, i’m surprised when a handsome brunette stands from a seat at a table towards the back and waves at me with a shy smile. i fail to bite back my own grin as i make my way over to him.

“Nico?” i ask, holding my hand out.

“that’s me.” he confirms, slipping his hand in mine to shake before we drop them and he pulls the other chair out, motioning for me to take a seat. once i’m seated, he takes his seat across from me. “you must be y/n?”

“that’s me.” i nod. “i am so sorry if Nicole forced you into this. i’m convinced the word ‘no’ isn’t in her vocabulary.”

he chuckles and shakes his head.

“no, no. she didn’t. actually, as soon as she told me about you, i asked her to set this up.” his words surprise me, i was under the impression that this was Nicole’s idea. i can’t stop the blood rushing to my cheeks, painting them red.

“oh, i didn’t know that.” i look down at my hands, fidgeting on the table in front of me. “well, uh, tell me about yourself, Nico. the only thing Nicole told me was that you play hockey with Jesper. and i think i’ve deduced from your accent that you’re… Swiss? i think i got that right, but i might actually be horrible at guessing accents.”

he laughs again and my butterflies erupt in my stomach. he has a gorgeous laugh.

“no, you’re right, i’m from Switzerland.” he nods, confirming my guess. “and as you said, i play for the Devils with Jesper. but besides that-”

he continues telling me about himself, and i’m leaned on my elbows, listening to him talk. for once, i’m genuinely interested to hear about the man sitting in front of me. when he asks about myself, i give him all the truths, not holding back from telling him about my interests and family. before i know it, it’s been two hours and Nico is walking me down the block to my car before he leaves for an afternoon practice. we’re walking in silence, and i ponder the idea of telling him about my ex. knowing it might be better to get it out in the air now. but then Nico starts back up our last discussion from in the café, about christmas traditions.

“we have a tradition of watching a movie called Drei Haselnüsse für Aschenbrödel, which i think in english is called Three Wishes for Cinderella. it started when my sister Nina was young.” i push my thoughts away and give him my full attention, engrossed in what he has to say. taking this as a sign to wait for that discussion.

when we arrive at my car, i’m pleasantly surprised that i don’t actually want to leave. unlocking my car, i open my door and throw my purse in on the passengers seat before turning back to Nico, who stands with a small smile on his face and his hands in his pockets.

“i, uh, i’d really love to see you again. if you’re up for that?” i say. his half smile turns into a grin and he nods.

“yeah, i’d like that a lot. maybe next time we can actually go out to dinner or another proper date outing. i’m sorry that today was just coffee.” he says and i shake my head.

“that sounds great but, don’t sell yourself short. i had a really nice time today. besides, i know hockey players don’t always have free schedules but, i really like you so i’ll take whatever i can get. even if it’s just a twenty minute date eating mcdonald’s.” i tell him, shrugging my shoulders as i lean against my car.

“let’s hope it doesn’t come to that!” he jokes, and i let my giggle slip out freely. he shifts his weight back and forth on his feet as we stand in silence for a second, just smiling at each other, content with ourselves. “i better get going, my car is back at the café. but is it okay if i text you? or better yet, call you?”

“i’d love that. but, wait, your car is back there? why did you walk me all the way over here then?” i laugh. “we could’ve parted ways back there! now i feel bad that you walked past your car just to walk with me.”

“i just didn’t want this to end yet.” he shrugs. “i’d do it again if i had the choice.”

his words make me blush and i look down at my feet.

“you text me, or call me, or hell, i’m sure Nicole will gladly tell you where i live. just, don’t ghost me.” i halfheartedly joke. he smiles one last time and shakes his head, starting to walk backwards away from my car.

“oh trust me, you’ve got me hooked now. you’re not getting rid of me that easily.” he calls out to me and i bark out a laugh and slide into the drivers seat, closing the door behind me.

god, i hope not.

#nico hischier #nico hischier x reader #nico hischier imagine #nhl imagine #nhl fic #faithlynn’s writings <3 #babydollmarauders #nj devils

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revlyncox · 3 months ago

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Answering the Call of Democracy

We draw from the deep well of our tradition and from our experience in community to find the joy, strength, peace, and love we need to help every voter to find their voice. This sermon was delivered to The Unitarian Society in East Brunswick, NJ, by Rev. Lyn Cox on September 15, 2024.

A little more than four years ago, I was bracing in the early morning cold outside of a Baltimore city high school with three people I had never met before, strangers who would be a team for the morning. It was unusually quiet at first. We watched legions of pilgrims for democracy come to set up for the day, arriving in almost reverent silence. Some of the poll workers were already inside. At a respectful distance from the entrance, there were tables from a few civic organizations along the plaza between the parking lot and the door. We had a little table, but we didn’t stay behind it, preferring to greet people and circulate through the crowd.

I was with a group of election defenders. We had been trained by a nationwide pro-democracy group in de-escalation tactics and in nonpartisan voting resources. We were there in case there were attempts to use violence or threats to suppress the vote, or in case someone was turned away from the polls unfairly and needed help accessing resources to address that, or in case someone wanted a referral to information about how to vote. We also gave out bottled water and warmly greeted every voter.

My team included a Baltimore City school teacher who was also a member of Alpha Kappa Alpha Sorority, Incorporated, and had done a lot of get-out-the-vote organizing. There was a UU activist in their early twenties who was new to Baltimore, but not new to de-escalation training. Rounding out our team was a newly retired person who had never done any kind of election or political volunteering before; she came from Annapolis because they had more than enough volunteers there. We got to know each other a little bit in between making ourselves useful to the voters. It was a nonpartisan group doing a nonpartisan activity; we did not make distinctions about who we helped, and most of the time we didn’t know who the people we helped supported politically. Each one of us had different motivations for volunteering to ensure that every person who was eligible and showed up to vote got their chance to participate in democracy.

For myself, I wanted the experience of voting to feel safe and joyful for everyone, especially first-time voters, and I wanted to build community with people in my own city. In the election four years prior to that, I had been working away from home in a battleground state, and I saw a lot of behavior during the campaign and directly after the election that was designed to intimidate people out of claiming their power. I am a person with a fair amount of racial and class privilege, plus professional experience talking to strangers, and I felt that I could spend that privilege to help people feel less alone if they were worried about intimidating behavior. We didn’t have any trouble at our location. I know that, nationwide, volunteers in our group made a difference in the voter experience.

On that election day, our table was far enough away from the entrance that we were in the zone where candidates for office would come through to greet people in line and hand out flyers. It was exciting to see people with differing viewpoints expressing excitement and hope for what could be possible in local and state governments. The lines moved quickly, but they were long sometimes. While I don’t love long lines at the polls and there should not be a disparity in the wait times at different polling locations, at least in this case it felt festive to have so many neighbors gathered in one place. Lots of people were confused about why we were there without promoting a candidate or a ballot measure. We repeated often that we simply wanted everyone who was eligible to be able to vote.

At one point when the lines weren’t as long, I went closer to the entrance to ask the poll workers if they needed anything when a young man walked through the plaza on his way to somewhere else. He was kind of skinny, with short hair, tattoos in sharp relief against his pale skin, and well-worn clothing. The young man asked what the crowds were for. We told him it was election day and invited him to vote. He said he wasn’t registered, but then the poll worker got to tell him that Maryland has same-day voter registration. If he was eligible, he could vote that day. And he did. When that first-time voter came out of the polling location he had the biggest smile and called out that this is the greatest country in the world. I get teary just thinking about that.

We didn’t know that day how the election was going to turn out, and we weren’t there to advocate for an outcome. Nevertheless, even with the uncertainty of the process and the risk that we might need to use our de-escalation training in the face of voter intimidation, our hearts were full as we supported our neighbors that day. Joining together with neighbors to be part of the democratic process brought me joy. I am reminded of the gospel song by Shirley Ceasar, which I learned from the Resistance Revival Chorus:

This joy that I have, the world didn’t give it to me

The world didn’t give it, the world can’t take it away

There are forces that hunger for power-over instead of collective wellbeing. Those principalities and powers do affect us, and it is our constant mission to resist them, but we need not give up our joy or our sense of relationship or our vulnerability or our capacity to act out of our values. Our joy can come from an indwelling sense of connection, from a relationship with the love that will not let us go, from a vision of the Beloved Community that could be and that we are creating sparks of in every moment. Hope, to me, is not wishful thinking, it is the choice to act in congruence with love, no matter what happens with short-term outcomes.

The hope that I have for participatory decision-making in my community, the world didn’t give it to me.

The strength that I have to reach out and be vulnerable in conversation with neighbors about the issues we face together, the world didn’t give it to me.

The peace that I have as I try to build community and make things better with a full appreciation of my own and others imperfections, the world didn’t give it to me.

The world didn’t give it. The world can’t take it away.

This is the election sermon. It is a longstanding tradition in our faith, going back to the 1700s, for the minister to preach right before an election about democracy and the responsibilities of citizens and elected officials. The election sermon isn’t about advocating for candidates or parties, but is about illuminating our theology and values as many of us prepare to apply those values in public life. I could have waited until November 3 to preach this sermon. But with vote-by-mail and early voting, the time when people are actually casting their ballot varies more than it used to, so I thought I would beat the rush.

It is true to our tradition and in compliance with the law that the election sermon doesn’t deal with political parties or candidates. As a faith community, we can absolutely talk about issues and about how we frame certain topics in terms of our theology and our values. All day, every day, we can talk about bodily autonomy, environmental justice, immigration justice, and dismantling the carceral system. Up to a certain percentage of our congregational volunteer and staff time and resources can be used to lobby for specific legislation or ballot measures. But if we’re not naming specific legislation or parties or people, the conversation is open. [The UUA has a resource called “The Real Rules” to help us understand what we can and can’t do as a nonpartisan faith-based group.] As a private individual, I have my own thoughts and am allowed to vote and donate and do all of the other things other citizens can do. In my role as your minister, I don’t need to be partisan to be grounded in our Unitarian Universalist tradition and to speak about the way the love at the center of our faith flowers outward into public life.

And I think we do need to talk about that. Our tradition, our ethics, our values should guide the way we act in the world. Our spiritual lives should inform the way we analyze the choices we make in public life. The obligations we take on as members of a faith community, the people and forces to whom we are accountable, should be on our minds and hearts as we go through our discernment about how to interact with the democratic process. Even for those of us who don’t have the right to vote due to age or nationality or for some other reason can be part of the conversation.

The revised bylaws of the Unitarian Universalist Association remind us that we value “Justice. We work to be diverse multicultural Beloved Communities where all thrive. We covenant to dismantle racism and all forms of systemic oppression. We support the use of inclusive democratic processes to make decisions within our congregations, our Association, and society at large.”

Similarly, the UUA bylaws remind us that we value “Equity. We declare that every person has the right to flourish with inherent dignity and worthiness.

We covenant to use our time, wisdom, attention, and money to build and sustain fully accessible and inclusive communities.”

These words from Article II of the UUA bylaws came out of a multi-year process of input from individual UU’s and from congregations, discussion, and voting two years in a row by delegates from congregations. Though they are articulated in a way that is fresh and current, the values in our bylaws arise out of the context of all that has come before, our history and our heritage and the living tradition of our theology. The love at the center of our faith has deep origins in the experiences of our ancestors and in our own experience with meaning and purpose. The world can’t take it away.

The UUA bylaws speak to the way we want to be as an Association of Congregations, and they also speak to the kind of world we want to live in beyond our congregations. “We support the use of inclusive democratic processes to make decisions within our congregations, our Association, and society at large.” To me, protecting voting rights and providing support and encouragement for every eligible person to vote is a core expression of our Unitarian Universalist faith.

The joy and peace and strength and love we bring matters. When we stay grounded in our community and connected to those forces, the world can’t take them away. Attempts at voter intimidation can’t take away our strength. Disinformation can’t take away our peace. Voter suppression masked as cynicism can’t take away our joy. The love that we have at our center endures.

The work of democracy can call us to be vulnerable, courageous, and creative. The work asks us to engage in good faith with people we don’t know and might disagree with, and to find energy and hope for the world we might be able to grow into. It is spiritual work that begins with reflection. What is your origin story? What experience do you have with the impact of public policy that moves you to participate in voting or in advocacy? What values move you to act? Whose wellbeing are you holding in your heart?

You might be more mindful of different aspects of your origin story depending on the conversation or the decision in front of you. You can have more than one retelling of your origin story. My point is that your context matters. And the context of the people you talk with or write to matters. One of my origin stories is the impact of this nation’s caregiving crisis on our family.

As many of you know, it is my honor to be a direct caregiver. I spend a lot of time on the phone and in person coordinating appointments, keeping track of prescriptions, following up on lab work, and advocating for treatment. Like many of you, I have experience with the current state of emergency room care. Getting and keeping health insurance used to be harder, and it still has a long way to go before it is affordable, equitable, effective, and easy to navigate for everyone. It matters to me that the local, state, and federal government protects access to affordable health insurance, works toward prescription drug price caps, and takes an honest look at public health and health disparities. It matters to me that my government keeps its promises to veterans like my dad, and that my government maintains a standard of care that supports the health and bodily autonomy of teens like my children. My experience as a caregiver directly informs the way I seek out information about policy and the way I advocate in public life.

What about you? What is your origin story? What personal experience do you have with regard to the impact of climate change, or the devastation of over-incarceration, or the immigration experience, or the necessity of access to gender-affirming care or to reproductive health care, or access to the right to vote? Maybe you have a personal story, or are impacted by a family story, or you are moved by the experience of a friend or an ally. Think for a moment about your hopes for the future, and the who and the why of the world you dream about.

If you write postcards or letters to voters, or if you do phone banking or door-knocking, keep your origin story in mind, and remember that everyone you meet also has their own origin story. Often, though not always, being curious about the other person’s story can help us to find common ground and to work together across differences. Just about everyone we might talk with about public issues has someone they care about whose wellbeing is directly impacted by government policy. We might not agree on what we think the causes and effects are, but once we can regard each other as human beings who care about our families and friends, and who want the people we love to be able to thrive, there may be a way forward to talking about the issues.

This is how putting love at the center plays out. Relationships are at the heart of a healthy democracy. It does take some openness and groundedness to reflect on our values and what they mean for our choices. It takes spiritual practice to accept with grace the imperfections of ourselves and our society and to keep pursuing a better world anyway. It takes vulnerability and courage to come to terms with our origin story, and to be genuinely curious about the stories of those we meet. Love is alive in every aspect of that path. Inner peace is waiting at the place where we overcome our fear and our perfectionism. Joy abounds as we embrace what a world of justice and equity could mean, and as we find connection with all those who join together in creating the future of a free and fair democracy.

This joy that we have, this peace that we have, this strength that we have, this love that we have, were given to us, at least in part, by our living tradition. Together, let us celebrate joy, peace, strength, and love, and let us put them into practice as we help every voter to find their voice.

So be it. Blessed be. Amen.

#unitarian universalism #uu #UU the Vote #voting

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afterdark777 · 2 years ago

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He looked at me emotionless with his dark aburn eyes and his blank mouth.

"Thank you professor?-" I hope he takes the bait.

"Snape. You may call me professor Snape."

After dark // Chapter I :

This is a small Severus Snape fan-fiction I’m working on. I have a lot of chapters drafted and I’m hoping for constructive criticism and feedback <3 Includes slow burn smut and heavy romanticism.

*disclaimer: My character is of age, there will not be heavy triggers or abuse depicted in this story. This is from the viewpoint of an INFP character. I do not own any of the original characters. All rights can suck my d*ck because JK is a pos.(for legal reasons I could be joking) (/nj) *also how does on do italics on tumblr? My story is much better with italics*

Readers POV:

It was a cold late summer night. Earlier I had received news I was being transferred to Hogwarts, English school of witchcraft and wizardry. Previously, I had attended the Beauxbatons academy of magic, it was quite pleasant. Many beautiful females, entrancing magic acts, and wonderful support from professors and peers. It was much needed treatment after all I had been through the previous years. It felt nice to be in a place where the points on my ears were socially acceptable.

Late spring

Screeeeech! The train was painfully loud. God this is so unlike me, I can't believe I missed the other train! I thought to myself as I was sitting impatiently. The train was quite quiet and dim at this time of night. It was amusingly peaceful, the soft horn blaring in the short distance, the noises of the engine and the wheels hitting the steel mixed with a sort of melancholy energy floating through the cabin I was sitting in. The room was quite spacious with a big. beautiful window, the seats were faux leather and redwood. My suitcase was also a redwood finish, it looked nice against the olive color carpet underneath my feet.

I could get used to this.

Screeeeech! "Aherm- ladies and, well.. lady. This is the final and last stop. Doors are located to your left." Here I go. My familiar, Natas, stretched and awoke from their slumber, grabbed my suitcase with their tail and followed me down the steps. "I can get that my love." I whispered to Natas as I lightly tugged the handle from the grasp of their long soft tail.

Natas was a wonderful gift to me. Literally and metaphorically. I found them hurt under a blackberry bush in the middle of a rain storm near Oregon. I had no idea that I could find their species back in my hometown, so I was a bit confused with how to properly nurse Natas back to health. I had called up and old friend who gave me a couple books based on fantastic beasts. Luckily, with some miracle, Natas survived and I was blessed with a loyal companion for many years. I don't think I would've survived without them.

I stepped lightly down the steps of the wood carved station, and dismally acknowledged the fact that I had also missed the last carriage.

"It looks like it's time to practice my Apparition, you in?"

I looked at Natas with a small grin on my face. They purred in response and curled themselves between my legs. "Here we go."

"Apparatus"

I landed peacefully infront of a crooked bridge with an even more crooked awning. It was weirdly liminal. I was infatuated. As I crossed each plank of wood beneath my feet, it creaked louder and louder. The moon was out full, and the smell of rain lingered on each blade of grass. The wind howled for a moment, as if it was calling out to someone. I had walked halfway over this dense bridge when small warm lights appeared in my vision.

Oh my, this is more enchanting that I would have imagined.

The mountain parted and a stone structure was peeking out from behind. As I walked with the twisted and curved boards, the building was starting to take shape and transform. Beautiful stained glass windows, stone gargoyles flying high to guard the castle -

Oh shit, I totally forgot.

I grabbed a potion from my satchel. I had been working on this one to sneak into public libraries after hours without being detected by cctv and other muggles walking about. When I realized I was leaving late from home I snatched it in hopes it would become useful against my arrival becoming impaired by any persistent guards.

I drank my potion and continued to walk past the gate into the main court of Hogwarts lightly, my anxious thoughts were interrupted by a dark smooth voice.

"You must be the late student. Do spare me with your name, Follow me."

This man turned towards the stairs and flicked his long black cape behind him.

"Yes sir."

I replied lightly. I felt a tension in the room get a bit smaller. As he led the way, we were passing beautiful mosaics with moving parts, I couldn't tell if they were real or enchanted. Paintings from the 16th century, artists such as Leonardo da Vinci, Salvador DalI, Rembrant and so many more I didn't recognize covered the walls. The candelabras were absolutely astonishing, I adore a good candelabra. The cold breeze snuck in through the empty windows between the stone arches, climbing around the pillars, it smelt like cold fresh flowers. Lavender. The stars were shinning bright, reflecting off of the stone paths outside. Again, my thoughts were interrupted.

"I can see you are preoccupied with the scenery. I do hope you remembered your way to your dorm. Since you have missed the dinner as well as the beginning of the year house placement for your year, you will be shacked up here; in this single room. Do be mindful of Moaning Murtle. The first years will be sorted into their houses tomorrow morning. Professor Dumbledore will reach out regarding your house.. status."

He looked at me emotionless with his dark aburn eyes and his blank mouth.

"Thank you professor?-" I hope he takes the bait.

"Snape. You may call me professor Snape."

I lightly grinned. "Thank you snape. I assure you I am grateful for the wonderful tour." I said with a smirk and light hearted sense of encouragement. "Have a wonderful evening."

He nodded slowly and turned around, once again flicking his cape but more delicately. I politely shut my door and threw my case onto the floor, and my body onto the queen sized bed.

"Natas. Come on out now" I murmured. They stretched from my pocket and became their average size. "Hope no one saw you, they'd be so terrified no students would want to talk to me." I said with a smile. Natas rolled their eyes and nudged my head, then nudging my pillow. I understood what she was telling me. I turned off my back and onto my stomach, reaching over the soft satin sheets and past the red wooden bed frame to grab my case, I struggled for a second wiggling my fingers at it like that would help. I felt my wand poke my lower back and it dawned on me where I was, so I reached for it and forced the case to come to me. I slipped into my silk nightgown, I traced the lace delicately as I laid my head upon the golden pillow with tassels. Natas started purring and I faded into my dreamscape.

This will do.

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chaosdisorganized · 2 years ago

Note

82 98 125

82. Help Is On The Way by Rise Against

"Can nobody save us? // Will anyone try?"

"Her words miss the dark night // Does anyone care? // And all along they say it // Help is on the way"

"We were told just to sit tight // Cause somebody will soon arrive // Help is on the way // But it never came // It never came"

98. The Langdon House by Issues

"The chimes of them dancing to break free // I've got them chained up loose so I can fit in // I said be silent, no one can hear you // You feel like I did when no one comes near you // 'Cause they think that you're weird and you're stained like a carpet"

"What did I do to deserve this? // I forget that it's all part of my imagination // I could actually pick and choose my loose ends // And tie a knot, but all I do is run and hide"

"I was born unaware // That my whole life would be a war // So I battle myself and until I run and hide"

"Blood runs deep // When you're growing there'll be blood dripping from your ugly mug // 'Cause papa don't like you like momma does // So give it up // For the guardian angel just sip it up // Rub a little dirt in it boy and bear with me"

125. NJ Legion Iced Tea by A Day To Remember

"This is your wake up call // We run this town and you can't fight us all // We keep 'em coming back for more // Don't think you can hold us down // We'll tear this building down // Try to be careful what you say"

"Find your place and leave us with some peace of mind // You do this every time"

"We've crossed that thin line // Don't try to hold us here // If for just this once you'd think of us // I hope you're happy with yourself"

"Who's gonna break your fall // When we don't back down, you're gonna seem so small // We keep 'em running for the door"

"This is the life we chose // This is the life I lead // They can never take this from me"

#asks #ask game #system playlist ask game #system playlist songs

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andys-grave · 2 months ago

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Get up, get out, this is your wake-up call

We run this town and you can't fight us all

We keep 'em coming back for more

Don't think you can hold us down

We'll tear this building down

Try to be careful what you say

Give it up, your tact is astounding

Find your place and leave us with some peace of mind

You do this every time

So here's to another banner year

We've crossed that thin line

Don't try to hold us here

If for just this once, you'd think of us

I hope you're happy with yourself

Get up, get out, who's gonna break your fall?

When we don't back down, you're gonna seem so small

We keep 'em running for the door

Just wait, things will come back around

It's too late for them, they're headed straight for a melt down

I'm not a part of your cliché

#Spotify

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vilisisms · 6 months ago

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Don't think you can hold us down We'll tear this building down Try to be careful what you say Give it up, your tact is astounding Find your place and leave us with some peace of mind You do this every time So here's to another banner year We've crossed that thin line Don't try to hold us here If for just this once, you'd think of us I hope you're happy with yourself

#˚☽˚.⋆ ― riley shaw / playlist #Spotify

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cygnetofthesea · 4 years ago

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The Rest of Forever: Elite Fanfiction

This story is dedicated to the wonderful ladies I met through the tumblr Elite chat. You guys are so lovely and have made the experience all the better. I hope this story is a nice reminder of who Guznadia is at heart. <3

He's warm and content, oh so utterly at peace.

It was an unfamiliar sensation and for a moment he was confused, wondering if he had woken up into another dream. But feeling the heat of her body tucked tightly against him, Guzman knows that by some miracle, this was his reality.

His heart fills with this quiet elation, smiling sleepily while pulling Nadia even closer against him, her back pressing against him. He nuzzles against the loose curls until his lips touch the soft skin of her neck. He inhales deeply and is filled with that familiar lavender scent.

He remembers when he first walked into her parents' fruit shop and was hit with a gust of lavender. He smelled it every time he visited and every time he was around Nadia. He had finally asked her about it one day as he held her in his arms. He was still pining and waiting for her to take their friendship to the next level but he reveled in her touch as always, tucking his face into her neck.

"You smell so good. You always smell so good," he said, his voice coming out in a low rasp. He felt her shiver against him, her arms tightening just slightly. "What is it?"

She started to pull away and his grip around her waist tightened to let her know he wasn't ready to let go yet. She complied and simply pulled her head back to look at him with an amused smile.

"It's lavender. When my parents first opened up the shop they were having problems with insects buzzing around the fruits so I went out and planted a bunch of lavenders around the shop and house. They keep the insects away, protecting the fruits."

He beamed down at her, a flash of little Nadia kneeling on the ground, hands muddy with soil as she planted flowers. "How old were you?"

She scrunched her nose thoughtfully. "Hmmm, about six, I think? I was already getting myself dirty, playing outside so I had no problems planting flowers. I felt like they were my children," she admitted with a blush.

Oh god, he thought, watching her cheeks turn a tantalizing rosy color. He wanted to feel the heat beneath her cheek, he wanted to feel it on his skin. His heart raced and before he could stop himself, he let his fingers brush gently, tentatively, against her heat. He wanted to close his eyes and bask in her touch but he was riveted by her dark eyes looking at him. They were so intense, piercing his soul and he felt so exposed to her. He knew what she was seeing, his heart laid out for hers to take, but it didn't make him afraid. He felt powerful every time she looked at him because it was her gaze that was on him. Somehow, some way, he was able to draw her attention to him enough to keep her eyes on him. Somehow this wonderful, beautiful, special girl was sparing her time and energy for him of all people.

He had so desperately wanted to kiss her then, his lips tingling. He had wanted to simultaneously sip on her languidly and devour her hungrily. That was what she did to him. She calmed him like the sun peeking out from behind stormy clouds and made his blood heat like the storm itself.

He had never felt like this in his entire life and he was addicted. He didn’t need drugs when he had Nadia.

Even now as he gripped her sleeping body against him, slowly kissed up her neck, he couldn't believe she was here. He couldn’t believe she was his as much as he was hers

He feels her shift, waking up at last. "Good morning," he mumbles against her.

He sees her smile, her eyes slowly opening to peer over at him. She looks at him sleepily, her hands finding his own resting on her stomach.

"Good morning."

Her voice is rough from sleep and it pulls at his heart. For the umpteenth time, he thinks God, she's so beautiful.

He leans over her as she shifts around to face him and kisses her. He's soft at first, kissing her top lip, then her bottom lip before pulling it with his teeth. He can't help but nibble on the soft fullness, letting himself get lost in the reality that they really are together. Reunited and this time, for good.

"Are you really here?" he asks quietly in between kisses.

She melts against the sheets, pulling him closer atop her. "I should be asking you that," she sighs. "I can't believe you're finally here. With me. In New York."

She kisses him passionately then as though the words woke her up from her own dream. He spreads his hands wide against her bare skin, pressing against the softness.

"Nadia," he breathes, sliding his lips against her jaw, down her neck, pulling her skin as he goes.

Her fingers thread through his short hair as she arches her neck back under his ardent attention. He lifts her higher up on the bed, the headboard knocking against the wall with the movement.

"Guzman—"

A loud bang on the wall pulls them from their bubble and Lu's voice interrupts them, "Oi! I had to listen to you last night and sleep with headphones on, I'm not putting up with it for breakfast."

Guzman knocks on the wall once. "You can always go out for breakfast, you know," he scolds.

Lu shouts back a retort he couldn’t understand nor cared to.

Nadia shrinks further into the bed in embarrassment even though her door was firmly closed and locked. Guzman's ire at the disruption is eclipsed by the affection that washes over him as he looks down at her. She had covered her face shyly but he could see a hint of her smile.

He settles over her comfortably, taking care not to crush her and resting his elbows on either side of her. His hands travel up her forearm to her hands, pulling them from her face and before he can protest, he attacks her face with kisses.

"Guzman," Nadia squeals, trying to dodge his lips as a peel of laughter escapes her.

She twists her body to move her head out of reach but Guzman switches to kissing her neck and shoulders while tickling her sides. Nadia hikes her leg up to wrap around his hip and uses it to leverage herself on top of him. In a surprising twist, Nadia flips Guzman on his back and holds his wrists prisoner.

He looks at her in astonishment, out of breath, before a slow grin spreads across his face. "Well, I can't complain about this turn of events. I don't mind being at your mercy."

He swallows as Nadia leans closer to brush her nose against his. "We'll be at Lu's mercy if we don't behave."

His face crumples in displeasure at that. "That's not where I was hoping this was going."

Nadia shakes her head with a giggle, her soft curls brushing against him and he can't help leaning into them, enjoying their soft brushes against his skin. She releases his wrists to rest firmly over him and his hands immediately reach for her, gliding them softly up and down her back.

“I know, my impatient boy, but as long as I'm— we're —living with Lu, we should be mindful of our roommate, no?"

"Ugh, we really need our own place."

Nadia smiles softly at that, caressing his cheek. "That sounds lovely, but let's wait a little bit. I don't want to leave Lu alone when we haven't even been here a whole year."

"Lu will be fine," he replies. "She's pretty resourceful."

"I know that, but I think she's come to appreciate my presence, maybe even needs it," Nadia frowns. "You know she puts on a good brave face, but underneath it all she's still burdened by what happened. She's still scared of being on her own in this brand new place."

Guzman brushes a lock of Nadia's hair behind her ear, his demeanor softening as he looks at her. He knew she was right and even though he wanted nothing more than to have a home with just Nadia, he wasn't going to take this for granted. If being with Nadia, living with her, and starting a life with her at long last meant Lu was going to be a fixture in their lives for a little while, he'd go along with it happily.

"You're right," he agrees softly. "And you’re possibly too kind and thoughtful than anyone deserves. Especially Lu."

Nadia sits up, pulling Guzman up with her. "Maybe you're right," she shrugs, putting on a maxi dress as Guzman woefully looks on. Much as he wants to stay in bed with Nadia, he knows they have to face the day at some point. "But, it's the right thing to do. And against my better judgement, I feel for her."

Guzman walks over to her, slipping on his boxer briefs as he goes. Instinctively, he zips up her dress before she can ask and pulls her close. She smiles in thanks, looking up at him.

"I love you," he says. "So much."

She leans up to kiss his nose. "I love you."

"So much?"

She giggles, nodding. "So much."

His body relaxes, his heart feeling so full he thinks it just might burst. I love you, I love you, I love you… Every heartbeat is for her and he feels as though he'll never tire of telling her just how much he loves her.

"Now why don't we make the most of this beautiful day together?" she says with excitement, her eyes lighting up. "What do you want to do first? We can pick up breakfast from Pret A Manger and take it to Riverside Park. I go there all the time and I've been dying to show you. It's so beautiful and there's a gorgeous view of the water. And then we can take Citibikes around the area or—oh! We can take the NJ Transit and go to New Jersey if you like." She bites her lower lip thoughtfully and he wants to pull it between his teeth instead but she continues to ramble excitedly. "Actually maybe we'll do the New Jersey trip another time, you haven't even seen New York yet. Maybe we can take the bikes down to Battery Park unless you want to try out the trains—"

He could listen to her excited chatter all day but he was concerned she was going to run out of oxygen soon so he leans in and kisses her just long enough to stun her into silence. He pulls away, smiling in amusement.

"Nadia, it doesn’t matter what we do. We could do it all or none of it today because the important thing is we're here. Together. You and me, we have the rest of our lives to do it all."

Nadia looks up at him, her eyes wide and sparkling. She reaches up on her tiptoes, wrapping her arms around his shoulders and again, he gets that lovely whiff of lavender from her. He leans into her to inhale more of it, letting it wash over him. Home.

"You're right," she says. "You and me. We have the rest of forever together."

#Guznadia #Netflix Elite #guzman x nadia #Nadia x Guzman #Elite Fanfic #Guznadia Fanfic #cygnetofthesea writings #cygnetofthesea graphics #cygnetofthesea edits

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dramioneasks · 8 months ago

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Looking for something like Dark Water & Dying Eyebrights by bex-chan please.

Post-Hogwarts/war, bump into each other in the Muggle world. Bonus if memory loss included. Thank you!

Snakes and Daffodils - KEvergreen - M, 17 chapters - Walking into a decently respectable tattoo parlor in the middle of muggle London, the last person Hermione Granger expected to see was Draco Malfoy. Especially speaking, he had been declared missing, and presumed dead, for the past couple years. A story in which Draco Malfoy runs away from the wizarding world, and becomes a muggle tattoo artist. Stranger things have happened.

Of Cats, Artists and Small Towns - CosmicCthulhu - T, 2 chapters - After the war, Draco moves into a small quaint muggle village – with nothing but his art supplies and the scars he gathered through the years – hoping to find some inner peace. And maybe he’d be able to do just that if it wasn’t for a pesky orange cat and a beautiful muse that refused to leave his mind.

The Rest of Their Lives By: smuggled-muggle - M, 15 chapters -Voldemort’s defeated and now they’ve got the future to look forward to. Hermione’s happily ever after doesn’t happen as she had planned, and Draco refuses to live the life planned for him.

A House in the Country - BoredRavenvlaw620 - T, 12 chapters - “That’s it, just no. I’ve done my duty to the Wizarding world. I gave up my childhood, I gave up my dreams, and for what… a tiny cubicle in which I put the Ministry stamp on endless permits. No more. I quit. Effective immediately. I think you’ll find I have ample vacation saved up. I’ll owl human resources on where they can send my check.” She spent her childhood fighting a war she didn’t start. Now life is passing her by. What will she find when she makes choices not based off expectation?

Love Blooms by HCB123 - M, 7 chapters - Every valentines day, Hermione visits her local Muggle plant shop. Who should she bump into but the one and only Draco Malfoy. Warning: starts tame - gets steamy nearer the end.

Live like common people - blue_string_pudding - M, 22 chapters - Less than a year after the battle of Hogwarts Draco Malfoy disappeared.6 years later, Hermione finds him again in South London having completely abandoned the wizarding world. But he’s not the boy she remembers: Long hair and covered in tattoos, he appears to have developed a penchant for drugs and heavy metal music. And why on earth is h

e running a muggle bicycle shop?

Turning Tides - In_Dreams - M, 9 chapters - Desperate for a change of pace following the end of the war, Hermione leaves London for a distant seaside town. There she stumbles upon Draco Malfoy, alone and seeking a fresh start. Written for Strictly Dramione’s Summer Lovin’ Fest 2018.

All the Pretty Colours - Snapes_Godess - E, 14 chapters - Hermione Granger thought that leaving the magical world was the answer to her mental health crisis. She left her work, her friends, part of her very soul behind in search of healing. It wasn’t until a face from her past strolled into her life and disrupted her solitude that she began to see that she didn’t need to fight alone.

Magic in the Muggle World By: NJ Coffee Queen - T, 23 chapters - On a case in muggle London, Hermione runs into the last person she ever expected to see.

-Lisa

#anonymous #similar fics #muggle life #meet again

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deepdarkdelights · 3 years ago

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Oh wow Sammy...just wow.. Purgatory was soo good👏👏👏👏

This ask is gonna be quite messy btw bc my thoughts kept changing while I was typing😂

The ending was so shocking n I honestly felt terrible for Yoongi.. Regardless of guilt, I rly hope that he thoroughly tells MC how&why she changed (that he didn't agree and tried to stop NJ&SJ)... Him regarding them as excuses and skipping the details

That's what I wrote at first...then I remembered parts like,

"He could keep you now, but at what cost? How much would you hate him for this?"

"What gives you the right to touch what’s mine?"

and I was like..is full pity the right emotion that I should feel towards YG? For the 1st quote, I understood his concern, but I felt that the concern showed how much YG already accepted this situation at the same time. I expected his worries to be more like "How am I going to face her without feeling guilty?" Maybe these questions of concerns are pretty similar, but I feel like the question of "How much are you going to hate me" should come after "How should I forgive myself."🤷‍♀️

And YG, I'm sorry but she never said she's gonna stay with ya

....gosh I hope I don't sound insane n am making some sense🙃

The 2nd quote! That definitely gave away yandere vibe!👀 And the way how that naturally came out = YG may be a soft yandere but he's still possessive!!!

I also liked the shift in POV or the protagonist of the story. I think most of your stories delivered the story in MC's POV, n it was nice to see a male character being the protagonist😆

Lastly, I saw ppl recommending other MCs' backgrounds/personalities in Predatory universe, n I wanted to ask

Could the boys finding their partners mitigate tension & possibly bring peace to the family? An anon recommended matching NJ with a gentle MC and I think that could soften NJ's character..

Purgatory was fascinating just like your other works..every time I'm amazed—how can each of your story be sooo different&unique from one another? You are a genius🥺

Have a wonderful weekend☺️❤️

-🍫

Ahhh hello my sweet 🍫 anon!

This was such a nice, well thought out, and lengthy review! I loved it! And yes, although Yoongi can come across as soft and not nearly as bad as the other members, he still is possessive. We have only seen a fraction of what could develop over centuries. He still sees the mc as his, and while he can be soft to her, that doesn't mean he can't be hell to anyone else.

Yoongi really isn't as guilt ridden as he comes across. As you pointed out, he said he can keep her now. To him, it is not a question if she will stay with him, he will make sure she does. He has the capacity to be just as overbearing and protective as any other yandere I have written.

In short, I love this Yoongi.

Will the member's finding partners mitigate the tension in their interpersonal relationships? I am not sure, it could go either way. It could lessen the tension or pull it tighter than before.

Even know, Yoongi has the mc but it's not set in stone if he will hate Namjoon even more, or come to thank him like Namjoon anticipates he will.

I guess we will just have to wait and see how this develops through the series 😉

You are too kind to me, ily! 💜💜💜

#asks #send me asks #purgatory #predator universe #chocolate bar anon #my anons

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revlyncox · 2 months ago

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Returning to One Another

This sermon was written for The Unitarian Society in East Brunswick, NJ, for Sunday, October 6, 2024. In this sermon, I talk about advocating for peace in the Middle East and about some of the themes of the Jewish High Holidays. Both call us to resist polarization; to practice open-hearted and curious listening; and to co-regulate as we navigate our way through topics that bring up intense feelings of fear, anger, and despair.

During my study leave in July, I attended a “Shacharit for Peace and Justice,” sponsored by T’ruah: The Rabbinic Call for Human Rights. “Shacharit” is the name for the everyday morning prayer service. Directly after that service, there was a public witness event sponsored by unXeptable, which is a grassroots movement of Israeli expats who support a democratic Israel that is a safe and just home for all of its inhabitants. The occasion that prompted those public witness events was the visit of Israeli Prime Minister Netanyahu to address the United States Congress.

It wasn’t hard to find the group next to their large “End the War” banner in English and Hebrew. I arrived with my own kippah, otherwise known as a yarmulke or a head covering. T’ruah said they would supply them for those who needed them, but I like mine because it stays on my head a little better. I picked up a copy of the prayer service and scanned the QR code to find the songbook on my phone. People were lovely and welcoming as we prayed and sang. Neighbors helped me find my place on the page when I got lost; I can follow Hebrew pretty well, but some of the tunes were unfamiliar. It was a spiritual and soulful experience, expressing grief and rage and hope, and it was also a protest that called for an end to the war, a release of the hostages, and an end to the occupation in Gaza and the West Bank.

The protest sponsored by unXeptable had a different vibe, but the same goals. Demonstrators chanted in English and in Hebrew calls to make a deal and end the war. They blamed Netanyahu for the conflict in the first place, telling him, “This is on your head.” We heard from family members of hostages, leaders of American and Israeli social justice groups, and politicians. It was loud and angry, but peaceful. People helped one another find shade, or a place to sit, or water when they needed it. Other protest groups roamed the neighborhood and generally ignored us. There were more Jewish-led protests throughout the day, but at a certain point I needed to catch my train home.

Following T’ruah and participating in these events was encouraging in some ways. I am glad I was able to lend my voice in public witness, and to find some grounding in spiritual practice. It was important to me to call for a ceasefire in a way that lays the groundwork for peace and justice for all of the people who live in Palestine and Israel. Yet I also came away from that day sad that the peace movement in America is so fractured. People who share the same goals are too busy being right to stop and build a coalition. I think those of us with progressive values need to work harder on our skills for listening and cooperation.

As many of you know, I am part of an interfaith family. Though I was not raised Jewish, I have been participating in Jewish community going back to my seminary days in California. My kids are Jewish, and we celebrated their Bat Mitzvah and Bar Mitzvah almost a year ago. Our family belongs to a synagogue and we attend regularly. I find the spiritual practices of Judaism to be grounding and meaningful. I am informed about Jewish spirituality, but I will not speak over people who are Jewish as they relate what feels appropriate to share about their practice and tradition. The rise of antisemitism and the safety of the Jewish community affect me, but far less than those factors affect people for whom Judaism is their primary identity and for whom the multigenerational trauma of antisemitism is woven into their being.

I believe that the war should end and that there should be safety, justice, and self-determination in the Levant for Jews and Palestinians and Christians and Druze and all of the people who currently live there, all of whom are living in their ancestral home. I think there are members of this congregation who would agree with that, and I think there are members who would disagree. Among those who agree, I expect that there are diverse opinions about how an era of peace and justice will come about, and about the best strategies that we in the US can take to help make it so. People can have the same goals and values and disagree on the strategies and tactics. We can handle disagreement. To handle disagreement productively, we need to be in right relationship and we need to brush up on some skills for conflict transformation.

So, where do we start building the skills as a community to be able to have difficult, vulnerable conversations? Peacemaking is only one such topic. Any community of human beings will encounter conflict. Creative tension here might come from creating a congregation that is inclusive of theists, nontheists, and everyone between and beyond those categories. Differences of opinion might come up about the relationship between the congregation and the Montessori school, or about how to work with organizing partners like I-RISE or the NAACP, or about how we dismantle white supremacy culture. Lots of things will cause tension for a congregation that is living its values to the fullest. Processing that tension productively makes a major difference in the ability of the community to thrive and to stay focused on its mission. It is not necessary to be hurtful or combative, but being able to have vulnerable, difficult, and necessary conversations helps to unlock energy and connection.

My colleague the Rev. Dr. Terasa Cooley has a few ideas in her book, Transforming Conflict: The Blessings of Congregational Turmoil. It is a really great handbook for lay and professional congregational leaders, full of ideas that are relevant even when things are relatively calm and harmonious. My emerging colleague Dana Moore is going to speak next week about some of those skills, and we can come back to this book later in this year to explore others, but for today let’s focus on two things: understanding the physiology of conflict and cherishing the gift of not knowing.

The first skill, understanding the physiology of conflict, may be a review for many people in this congregation. Not everyone has that training, however, and for those of us who do, knowing it is different from applying it when we are in a stressful situation. If we can start from a common understanding about what conflict, fear, anger, and other visceral experiences do to our bodies and our brains, we can more effectively help each other to co-regulate when times are tough.

As Dr. Cooley points out, most conflicts are not about facts. She begins by talking about a part of our brains called the amygdala, or the brain stem. This part of our brains, among other things, manages how we respond to fear. This is useful when our survival depends on our immediate ability to fight, freeze, or flee. It is not so useful when our amygdala has decided that a disagreement with a loved one trips the same alert that being chased by a saber-toothed tiger would have for an ancestor.

The amygdala commandeers other systems in our body, including our brain, to divert power to survival. Our muscles might tense up, our heart rate might increase, our breathing might get faster if we are preparing to fight or to flee, or it might slow down if we are preparing to freeze. We don’t have access to the full capacity of our analytical brains while that perceived threat is active. Dr. Cooley writes (on page 21):

“The amygdala response is so quick, you are rarely conscious of it until you reflect upon it later. It is quick, but not necessarily accurate; it falls back on stereotypes you may have internalized without being conscious of them. It creates a kind of imaginative gridlock that requires us to react, rather than to respond.”

I want to pause here and emphasize what she said about not being conscious of this process. We don’t always recognize when our intellect is not operating at full capacity. We can be absolutely convinced that we are using pure facts and reason when there are other elements at play. That doesn’t mean those other elements are wrong. Feelings are important. Our histories and cultures have wisdom that we don’t always notice as they are speaking through us.

And. We need to acknowledge that we are complex beings with all of those different threads weaving us together that make us who we are in this moment, because when our amygdala is in its ascendancy but we think we’re making a calm and rational case based purely on facts, it is very hard to communicate productively.

Dr. Cooley summarizes that we can, without realizing it or knowing why, get ourselves into what she calls a “highly amygdalated state.” Later in the book, she suggests some tools for processing congregational conflict that help people to slow down and put their fear, anger, trauma response, and other signals back into context.

In communities where we make meaning and equip ourselves to courageously live our values in the world, it makes sense that the things that touch our innermost worries and hopes and vulnerabilities would come up. Sometimes those things take on disguises. An argument about the color of the floor in the sanctuary gets heated because it gets attached in our hearts to things like accessibility, or heritage, or feelings about scarce resources. When it comes to great big issues like peacemaking, our various experiences with war, violence, cultural or racial discrimination, forced relocation, or multigenerational trauma will impact the energy we bring to that discussion. It matters a lot that we can be gentle with ourselves and each other when we know our amygdalas are continuously trying to rescue us from perceived mortal danger.

And this brings me to my second point, cherishing the gift of not knowing. Sometimes that looks like putting aside our certainties about being the righteous good guys and being curious about other people and their experiences and feelings. Sometimes that looks like opening our minds to different ideas than the ones we proposed ourselves. Sometimes that looks like slowing the whole process down, listening to each other as we consider the positive and negative attributes of various perspectives or proposed solutions. Sometimes that looks like putting aside our worries about what might happen in order to create a surprising future together. Going slowly and being curious can help us to unravel some conflicts and misunderstandings, and might even help us prevent some of them to begin with.

Luckily, this is a spiritual community, and that gives us an opening to the mystery. This is a congregation with a strong tradition of meditation, opening up our awareness to what the present moment has to offer. Affinity groups, book groups, and activities like the choir give us opportunities to stretch our spirits and to be friendly with the unknown. Spiritual practices might give us the grounding and strength to breathe, to slow down, and to do hard things.

As people who value the free and responsible search for truth and meaning, with a heritage that lifts up the use of reason as one of the tools we have in matters of faith, we live at the gateway between knowing things and not knowing things. We are both proud of the knowledge we have and curious about the things that we don’t yet know, or at least the things that we know that we don’t know.

Being willing to learn about and respect other people, other faiths, and other ways of being is a strength of ours as Unitarian Universalists. It’s one of our superpowers in interfaith organizing. In our families, friendships, and congregational relationships, it can be hard to keep that same open mind and generous heart. We think we already know each other. We think we know each other’s motivations and needs. We forget to communicate directly, to listen and learn.

The people who are closest to us are also the people who we’re most vulnerable to, and sometimes we need to process the little hurts and resentments that naturally arise; otherwise, the little things can build up and block our ability to be curious. Even in our families, and certainly in our congregations and community groups, we can devolve into placing people in strict, dehumanizing categories of “us” and “them.” A productive response to tension and conflict lifts up our interconnections and our common humanity. Remembering that there are things we don’t know might help us to humanize ourselves and each other.

Dr. Cooley refers to “the courage of creative imagination” as one of the ingredients in transforming conflict (p. 125). The people involved slow down, connect, and create a new story about the meaning of what has happened and about the possibilities for the future. She has a formula for being in a difficult situation with a community: “let go and learn” (p. 128).

Unraveling conflict, reconciling with others, realigning with our values, and opening up the possibility of a new story are all necessary for healthy communities. They are also strong themes for the Jewish high holidays, which I observe and some others in this community observe. In the Jewish tradition, the new year is a time of return. It is a time to acknowledge and make amends for our mistakes. After we have done that, it is time to let the past go and to meet the future in connection with our loved ones, our own souls, and the ground of our being.

In this season of return, may we commit to the courage and skill-building that will open up avenues of return to this community, to each other in right relationship, to our authentic selves, and to the values that call us onward. May this year bring justice and peace in our hearts, our homes, our communities, and the world.

So be it.

#unitarian universalism

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euphoria-vmin7 · 5 years ago

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Gnossienne Pt.3 | myg

pairing: min yoongi x reader

genre/warnings: angst, violence (though it’s not too too graphic), mentions of blood, swearing, non idol! au, mentions of weapons (guns, etc.), some fluff but it’s mostly angst, mafia! au

words: 6,366

rating: pg-15 (violence and swearing)

–summary: how could you have been so blind? didn’t you know everything about him?

a/n: okay YES i know that i haven’t updated this series in forever but i kinda got stuck on it. but now i’ve figured myself out SO here’s part 3!! i hope you guys like it :)

Gnossienne

gno·ssi·enne

n. a moment of awareness that someone you’ve known for years still has a private and mysterious inner life

****

| part 1 | part 2 | part 3

Yoongi quickly looked down at the shirt in his hand. Reddish, iron colored blotches and streaks littered the front of the white t-shirt.

“Woah, hey!” he said, trying to catch your appalled gaze. “Yes, it’s blood. I sliced my finger while cutting vegetables for my grandma. See?”

He held up his left hand where the pointer and middle fingers were wrapped with gauze.

“It’s not a big deal,” he shrugged. You sighed in relief.

“Jeez, that scared me. That’s a lot of blood, I thought something worse happened,”

“Nah, I didn’t realize I hurt myself at first so I ended up getting the blood everywhere,”

You nodded in understanding before taking his hand.

“Still, I don’t like that you got hurt like this,” you said quietly, smoothing your thumb over his palm. He shook his hand out of your grasp and instead raised it to your cheek.

“Hey, I’m fine. I promise. Don’t worry so much. You trust me right?” he asked, a soft smile on his face as he looked down at you. You nuzzled your cheek into his palm and nodded immediately.

“Always,”

Min Seo ran up to you on Monday morning, an eager smile gracing her face.

“Well?”

You raised a brow, your coffee mug pausing halfway to your lips.

“Well what?”

She clicked her tongue in irritation and she rolled her eyes.

“What do you mean ‘well what’? What did he say?” she pressed. You blinked, feeling stupid.

“What did who say?”

She stared at you.

“(Name), sometimes I wonder just how stupid you are,”

“Excuse me?”

“Yoongi, (Name). Yoongi!”

“What about Yoongi?!”

She groaned with unhidden exaggeration.

“What did he say? About your promotion?”

You gasped.

“He’s back, right? You mentioned that he was back on Saturday. So what did he say?” she asked with a grin. You weakly smacked her, realizing your fault.

“I forgot to tell him,” you sighed, putting your hand on your forehead. She blinked owlishly

“What?! How do you forget something like that?? You telling me that you didn’t talk to him at all since last week? Not even on the phone?!”

“No! I did, I just thought I’d surprise him,” you groaned. She rolled her eyes at you and shook her head.

“Wow (Last Name) (Name) you really amaze me with your stupidity sometimes,”

You glared at her and pulled out your phone.

[4:03 p.m.] (Name): you wanna go out for dinner tonight?

“What better way to surprise him than over dinner?” you smiled as you tucked your phone away. Min Seo flashed you a thumbs up. You grinned and sat back down at your desk, resuming research. Since your story had done well, your supervisors were looking for a continuation and more stories about these gangs. So the story was now assigned to you and you were in charge of finding more things about them.

“Looks like we’re stuck together huh, buddy?” you muttered, placing a palm under your cheek as you zoomed into a blurry screenshot of one of the members - the bulky one with a lot of piercings.

[4:14 p.m.] Grumpy: sure. what’s the occasion?

[4:15 p.m.] (Name): to celebrate the end of my peace and quiet

[4:15 p.m.] Grumpy: and for that reason you’ll be paying

You smoothed down the folds of your dress and smiled at your reflection. Sure, it wasn’t too fancy of a dinner, but it was still more posh than the two of you regularly indulged in, so why not dress up?

“You’re really not gonna tell me why we’re doing this?” Yoongi asked, walking into the bathroom while buttoning up his collared shirt.

“I told you it was to celebrate the end of peace for me,” you smiled teasingly, letting your eyes rest on his frowning reflection.

“Okay okay,” you sighed catching his expression. “Truth is, I missed you and I just wanted to spend time with you,” you confessed, turning away from the mirror to look at him. Yoongi smiled, his gums emerging from behind his pink lips. He didn’t say anything else, simply opting for a chaste kiss to your forehead before exiting the bathroom.

You bit your lip in excitement as Yoongi’s car pulled up to the restaurant and quickly stepped out. Yoongi followed behind you while loosening his tie in irritation. You laughed softly as you told the hostess your name.

“Why did you wear a tie if you weren’t gonna be comfortable?”

“Well you dressed up nice so I didn’t wanna come looking like I was homeless,” he grumbled, his hand dropping his tie and instead slipping around your waist. You snorted.

“Don’t you wear a tie to work everyday?” you asked and Yoongi licked his lips.

“Irrelevant,”

You chuckled as the hostess led you both to your table and you took a seat. After some measly small chat and once your orders were placed, you cleared your throat and placed your hands on the table. Yoongi looked up from his bread with a raised brow.

“I have something to tell you,” you tried to say seriously though your leg was bouncing in excitement.

“Yes?” Yoongi asked, putting his knife down. You were about to tell him, but Yoongi’s phone went off, vibrating against the table. Your eyes darted to the screen and took in the caller ID.

“Shit,” Yoongi muttered, before declining the call. His dark eyes settled back on you and he smiled lightly. “What were you saying?”

“Oh,” you grinned, pushing the two letters out of your head. “Well, while you were in Dae-” you stopped abruptly as his phone began to buzz again. NJ again appeared on his screen. He cursed once more and you frowned.

“Maybe you should get that, Yoongi? It might be important,”

Yoongi looked away from his phone to study your face and once he realized that you were okay, he smiled gratefully.

“Thanks baby. I’ll be right back,” he stood up and placed his napkin on the table before grabbing his phone and heading out.

“What is it...?” you heard his voice trail off into the phone as he stepped outside to take the call. You sighed and dragged your finger over the rim of your glass. You couldn’t even have it in you to be annoyed that he was bringing work into your time. After all, Yoongi worked so hard everyday and the amount of effort he put into helping his coworkers was so admirable. After a few minutes, Yoongi walked back inside, a deep frown on his face.

“All okay?” you asked as he sat down in front of you. His expression eased immediately and he nodded.

“Yeah just some idiot messing shit up at work. It’s fine,” he dismissed with a wave of his hand. “Anyway, what were you trying to tell me, babe?”

“Right,” you cleared your throat and grinned. “So while you were in Daegu….I submitted my article!”

“No way!” Yoongi smiled. “How did it go?”

“Really well!”

“Yeah?” he asked but then he frowned. “But I thought you needed evidence,”

“Well…” you trailed off and his eyes narrowed.

“What?”

“I did some more research,” you admitted and he shut his eyes.

“(Name), I thought we agreed that would be dangerous and that you wouldn’t try to get closer!” he asked, a crease between his brows.

“I know,” you said immediately. “I know. I promise that I didn’t put myself into any danger, Yoongi!”

“How do you know that?!” he fired at you and you pursed your lips. At your expression, he sighed. “What did you end up submitting as evidence?”

“Oh I….” you hesitated and then spilled only a part of the truth. “A video. Some kind of footage of a gang talking,”

“Footage?” his eyes narrowed. “What kind of footage? Where did you get it?”

“O-Online,” you said, and you immediately regretted the lie. But, it’s fine. You were only doing it to stop his worrying. It didn’t really matter where you got that footage. Besides, it was surely taken offline anyway. Right?

Yoongi sighed. “Online. Alright,”

He didn’t say anything else, instead resuming with buttering his bread. You looked down dejectedly. Why was it so hard to tell him? You just wanted to say you got a promotion. But instead the conversation had pissed him off. The rest of the dinner felt off. Though you both did talk to each other, you couldn’t bring yourself to tell him about your accomplishment. Even he, you could tell, was still irritated and you couldn’t help but feel like you disappointed him. After all, he was worrying about your own safety. He stood by while you were first discovering the gang but he had warned you that interfering with them could be dangerous. And he was right? Who’s to say that the gang isn’t aware of your nosiness at this very moment. Suddenly your food didn’t seem so tasty. Even the ride home had a tense air and you didn’t like it.

“I…” you started weakly and you could feel Yoongi open his eyes from behind you. You turned around in his embrace and tried to make out his facial features in the dark. “I submitted the article and everyone was super happy with it. I got a promotion. That’s what I wanted to tell you. That’s why I asked you to dinner today…”

It felt good telling him, even though you wanted it to happen in a better setting. Not when you had ticked him off and made him worry. Yoongi’s gaze softened considerably, or at least, you hoped it did.

“I know I still told you that I wouldn’t dig deeper,” you gulped, finding a string on his black t-shirt more interesting than his face. “B-But I really wanted to find out more. I really wanted that promotion. I thought about my parents. Maybe they would actually talk to me now that I have a better paying job. A-And I figured that it would help us too. I mean you always did say that you wanted to move out of this crappy apartment and-” you took a breath. “I’m really sorry Yoongi. I thought you’d be happier,”

Yoongi sighed. “(Name)...I’m not mad okay? I just get really worried. I mean this isn’t just a common story, right? These are gangs. They’re dangerous,”

You nodded miserably. “I know,”

“And I’m not saying this to scare you but I’m sure that they wouldn’t like people digging into their crimes and stuff. What would I do if they came after you, huh?”

Once again, you nodded mutely.

“But,” he said. “That doesn’t mean I’m not proud of you,”

You looked up and he smiled. “You managed to put together a story that basically had no evidence to support it and proved a lot of people wrong. And you got a promotion. That’s amazing (Nickname),”

You grinned. “Thanks, Yoongs. I’m really sorry for not listening to you,”

“It’s okay,” he sighed and pulled you closer to him, his hand rubbing your back gently. “Just no more okay?”

“But I’m the only one in charge of this story,” you said. “It’s part of my promotion,”

He groaned but relented. “Fine, just promise me no more digging. You can use evidence that shows up from the police and shit. But I don’t want you trying to follow them around for pictures and an autograph, got it?”

Hearing the sarcastic irritation in his voice made you giggle and you nuzzled in his chest with a smile. “Okay okay. You’re so bossy,”

He chuckled and kissed your forehead. “Someone’s got to keep your ass out of trouble,”

A few weeks later you woke up with a horrible back ache and an ugly wetness between your legs. Rolling onto your back slowly, you frowned with displeasure as you realized what time of the month it was. After cleaning yourself up, you trudged into the kitchen where Yoongi stood leaning against the counter. His reading glasses were perched low on his nose as he scanned the paper, a steaming cup of black coffee in his other hand. You slid your arms around him and sighed, pressing your cheek into his shoulder blade.

“Morning, sweetheart,” he mumbled, his eyes remaining on the paper.

“Morning,” you answered nuzzling into his warmth.

“What?” he chuckled.

“What?” you repeated, confused.

“Why so clingy this fine morning?”

You pouted and pulled away. “I love you?”

“Ah,” he hummed in thought. “Period?”

You blinked slowly. “How did you know?”

He scoffed before setting the paper down. “Stupid question. I’m stuck with you everyday. I can tell these things by now,”

You rolled your eyes as you dropped a slice of toast into the toaster. “Don’t act cool,”

“I don’t need to act for that,” he shrugged and you snorted before pouring yourself a glass of water.

“What’s the plan for today?”

“Nothing,” Yoongi responded. “It’s been a long fucking week. I’m just going to relax today,”

You grinned as he plopped down on the couch in exhaustion. Leaning down to kiss his cheek, you patted his shoulder.

“Good. I can’t remember the last time I saw you relax. Has to be...maybe a decade?”

He rolled his eyes. “Well you’re disturbing me now,” he pointed out.

You laughed and sat down next to him as he turned on some morning show. With the pain in your lower abdomen, a day of relaxation sounded like heaven.

“Hey Yoongi?” you asked a couple hours later after rummaging around in the bathroom.

“Yeah?” he called from his spot on the couch, laptop balanced on his legs.

“Can you do me a favor?” you asked, standing up and dusting your hands on your pants.

“Sure, what’s up?”

“Can you run out and buy me some supplies? I’m almost out,” you asked and Yoongi sighed before grinning.

“This is why you restock before it starts, (Nickname). Everyone at the store knows me as the boyfriend who’s always buying pads. All the old ladies keep giggling at me,” he laughed while standing up.

“Well I would go,” you started indignantly. “But I look like a mess and I’m too lazy to get ready. You look fabulous all the time,”

He rolled his eyes. “No need to flatter me. I’ll go get some,”

You beamed at him. “Thanks Yoongi,” you kissed his cheek gently as he moved to tug his shoes on. You plopped on the couch before lazily scrolling through the channels as you heard your boyfriend shut the door behind him. After watching some movie for a few minutes, you shivered at how cold the room was, goosebumps prickling along your skin. You thought of going to find a blanket, but then you remembered that you had Yoongi. One of his big warm sweaters would do nicely. You stood up ignoring the chill that ran up your spine and made your way into your bedroom before pulling open Yoongi’s closet. Flicking on the light switch, you tapped your chin as your eyes raked over the clothing. Finally deciding on his black pullover, you turned to go back to your movie when something caught your eye. Under a pile of dark clothes in the corner of the closet, something shiny glinted in the light. You reached down and pulled up the clothes, briefly realizing that you had never seen these clothes on Yoongi before. You grabbed the object, feeling the cool metal on your warm fingertips and pulled it up. The brass knuckles in your hand made you gasp out loud.

“What the hell?!” you whispered to the emptiness of your apartment, the cold object feeling foreign in your hand. You flipped it over to examine it. They were slightly worn out and dirty, as though they had been used for a long time. The thought made you shiver. These couldn’t be Yoongi’s. What would he need brass knuckles for? Yoongi had never fought anybody. You glanced at the pile of clothes you had found the brass knuckles with.

“Probably one of his friend’s stuff?” you muttered to yourself, though your own voice sounded unsure. “Yeah that’s gotta be it,”

You quickly dropped the metal in between the clothes and rummaged them around to make them look as you had found them. You tugged Yoongi’s sweater on and shut the closet quickly, an uneasy feeling in your gut. You didn’t want to see or think about that ever again.

You lazily scrolled through websites on your laptop, eyes searching for updates about the gang you had been hunting. The TV was quietly droning with the news in your empty apartment. Yoongi was still at work and you craved his words of comfort because honestly, you felt like you had hit a dead end. You had come back home much earlier than you had expected, and your apartment wasn’t helping your lack of inspiration either.

“-and gangsters causing problems in the neighborhood. This symbol has been officially marked as dangerous and any civilian who sees it should report it to the authorities. These gangs are getting more suspicious and dangerous as time goes on and are currently under heavy investigation. They’re suspected to be major players in the underground drug cartel and the major robberies occurring around the city. Though there haven’t been any cases of muggings reported, civilians are advised to be cautious at night and to report any illicit activity…”

“Damn, they’ve been busy,” you mumbled to yourself, tugging your laptop closer to begin taking notes on what you were hearing. Maybe that’s what the old woman you interviewed had overheard. Shipment issues related to drugs. You shook your head in disgust.

You heard the lock of the front door click and perked up. You tossed your laptop to the side and peeked over the back of the couch as Yoongi pushed his way inside wearily.

“Hey you’re home-” you paused. “What are you wearing?”

It seemed that Yoongi wasn’t expecting you home because he flinched and whipped his head up so fast you thought he might break something. His eyes were narrowed threateningly but then softened when they focused on you. But you were more focused on the black skin tight jeans and heavy black jacket he was wearing, which was certainly not his daily work attire.

“O-Oh I-,” he cleared his throat. “I had to change since some idiot at work spilled coffee all over my clothes. These are some spares I had for emergencies,”

He chuckled to himself as he shook his head, walking into the living room to bend down and kiss you.

“Oh,” you said lamely. “You changed your shoes too?”

You raised a brow at the black combat boots that he most definitely didn’t wear to work that morning. He looked at you with a slightly nervous grin and shrugged. “It matched the outfit,”

You snorted and sat down properly, now focusing on the TV and droning out Yoongi’s movements. You didn’t notice how Yoongi paused to listen to the news, a quiet curse leaving his lips before he started to the bedroom.

“I’m gonna be on some office phone calls, baby. Just don’t disturb for a little while, ‘kay?” Yoongi asked you with a sweet smile and you tore your attention from the screen.

“Okay,” you grinned and nodded at him. He flashed you another small smile and shut the door to your shared bedroom.

“So you’ll get something on your way back?” you asked as you rummaged around your purse for your bus ticket.

“Yeah,” Yoongi sighed on the other end of the receiver. “Ever since this stupid project started we’ve had so much more work to do. Sorry I can’t be home earlier to eat with you, baby,”

You smiled sweetly through the phone regardless of the fact that he couldn't see you.

“It’s okay. You know I admire how hard-working you are,” you shook your head with a grin as you sat down. That earned you a tired chuckle from your boyfriend.

“Thanks for always being so understanding, (Name),” Yoongi said, and you laughed.

“Don’t need to thank me. Just take care of yourself and come home soon. I miss you,”

Yoongi chuckled fondly and voiced an affirmative. After a farewell and a quick “I love you” you ended the call and got comfortable in your seat before tugging on your earbuds and shutting your eyes. You would probably catch a quick nap before you reached the apartment. At least, that’s what you wanted to do.

Only a few minutes had passed when you suddenly felt a chill run up your spine. The hairs on your arms stood up and a wave of uneasiness passed over you. You peeled your eyes open to look around. The bus was mostly empty, given one or two passengers. They all seemed normal however, except for one.

He was looking straight at you when you made eye contact with him. He sat straight, dressed in all black with a heavy leather jacket making his frame look even larger. His big arms were crossed menacingly and you wished you could put a face to his description but the mask he was wearing covered everything but his eyes.

Dragon eyes.

He tore his eyes away from yours as soon as you looked and you shivered a bit. You were probably overthinking it.

That didn’t mean you wanted to spend more time having a staring contest with this man, however. You quickly shut your eyes again and pretended to fall asleep, because even though you knew he was looking at you, it felt a lot safer to not be looking straight into those eyes.

You must’ve been on that bus for hours, or at least it felt like hours. When the bus pulled up by the stop just near your apartment, you quickly stood up and hurried down the aisle, not sparing anyone a passing glance. You stepped out into the nighttime and breathed out in relief before starting the walk to your building. When you glanced back to the window of the bus, the man was pulling out his phone and placing it near his ear as the bus started rolling away. Your racing heartbeat began calming down as you reached the door to your building. You weren’t sure who that man was, but you knew he was intimidating as hell. If he was actually staring at you, and hopefully he wasn’t, you wished you would never cross paths with him again.

You sighed and brushed a few strands of hair out of your face as you climbed up the front steps and went to open the main door. You wished that Yoongi was waiting for you at home so that you could cuddle up with him, share a bowl of ramen, and tell him about your day and this man and how nervous he made you. But Yoongi had work. You could never be angry at him though. Yoongi was so hard-working and he was doing his best to pitch in and help you both lead comfortable lives. Just the thought of your sweet boyfriend made you smile as you moved to tug the door open.

Pressure on your face made your eyes widen in confusion and before you could realize anything it was already too late. The cloth being pressed against your nose and lips was doused in chloroform and though you had never even had the chance to see it, you knew. You tried to shout but the hand pressed harder, making the sounds more muffled. Your heart rate spiked once again as a big arm wrapped around your body and began dragging you down the stairs. You were crying and you didn’t even realize it. Instead you were trying your hardest to get a hit on the person behind you. You rammed your elbow back and hit a body, which released a low masculine grunt. His grip loosened a bit and you managed to take two steps before he grabbed you once again. Though now, your vision was blurring and your head was spinning and everything was going out of focus. You tried hard not to breathe in, but eventually your lungs burned and you took one more breath and everything went black.

The first thing you could smell was dampness. The smell of wet concrete and mold filled your burning nostrils before you could even open your eyes. When you had fully gained consciousness, you chose to keep your eyes closed, opting to strain your ears and listen to your surroundings. You could faintly hear the sound of clanging metal and the rush of a few cars but other than that it was silent. You peeled your eyes open and your heart dropped.

You were on an old couch, brown with stains of things you didn’t want to know. A dirty rug decorated the concrete floor and you looked around with tears pooling in your eyes at the metal walls. Was this some kind of warehouse? Cigarette butts and bottles were haphazardly strewn across the floor and you suddenly felt sick to your stomach. You had to find a way out. You stood up shakily and tried to find your bag, but of course it was nowhere to be seen, which meant that your phone and house keys were gone too.

Oh god, Yoongi would be so worried.

You wondered whether he had called the police or if he was searching for you or if he was going crazy with worry before a thought struck. How long had you been here? If it had only been a few hours and Yoongi was still working then there was a chance that he didn’t even know you were taken at all. You gulped as nausea rolled over your gut once again. You began quickly and shakily stumbling towards the only door you could see, freedom tasting bitter on your tongue.

“I wouldn’t do that if I were you,”

Your heart leapt into your throat as you quickly turned around. Plump pink lips were stretching into a menacing smirk as narrow brown eyes shone with mischief. You knew him. You knew this man.

He was graceful and he was familiar. Faded orange hair, a toned body, it was him.

No.

You stumbled back and the man clicked his tongue. “Careful sweetness, you’ll fall,” he sighed. “And don’t try anything. I’m prepared,”

His fingers tapped his side where you could see his gun and you shakily gulped.

“You’re lucky we didn't decide to handcuff you or something,” he said nonchalantly.

“What do you want with me?” you asked, sounding much braver than you felt.

“I don’t really know. I’m just following leader’s orders. He said you were a threat and that’s why you’re here. And no, we’re not gonna kill you. As long as you don’t give us a reason to,” the man sighed as you opened your mouth.

“U-Um,” you started and the man raised a brow at your stutter. Fuck, he was intimidating. “How am I a threat?”

Please don’t be what I’m thinking.

He chuckled. “You tell me (Last Name) (Name),”

You didn't even bother asking the cliche “how do you know my name?” question. It was clear to you now. The gang knew you and they were angry with you for digging up on them. Yoongi was right. You had never felt such a horrible sense of regret and you feared you weren’t getting out of this alive.

“The research I’ve been doing?” you asked nervously. The man smiled sweetly, a contrast to his intimidating aura.

“Mhmmm~” he sang, sitting down on the couch as you stood anxiously. “But anyways, contrary to what those stupid fuckers in the news make us sound like, we aren’t demons. We don’t kill innocent people,”

You raised a brow but allowed a bit of hope to settle in your chest.

“You didn't really know what you were doing and from the research Hoseok hyung has done on you, it was only to make your company happy, right?”

You nodded slowly, briefly wondering who the hell Hoseok was. But the fact that this man was apparently understanding your situation was much more important. He wasn’t going to kill you.

“But I still think that she knows too much,” someone said, and you turned to the door to see a taller man walk in, a scowl on his face. In his hands was a bowl of plain rice and a water bottle and you eyed him from head to toe, instantly recognizing him from his piercings and bigger build. Knife boy.

“C’mon Jungkookie~” the man on the couch purred teasingly. “Don’t scare her,”

The bigger man looked to the other in shock and disgust. “Hyung don’t say our fucking names what if she-”

“She’s not going anywhere and she’s not gonna tell anyone,” he sighed. “Isn’t that right, darling?”

As a barely hidden threat, the orange-haired man tapped his gun and you nodded meekly. He suddenly smiled brightly as though he didn’t just threaten your life. Knife boy rolled his eyes and handed you the food, which you began scarfing down without a second thought. He raised a brow but didn’t say anything else.

“Jin hyung told me to bring her some food,” he muttered. “Because we’re not supposed to starve hostages,” he added sarcastically. The orange-haired male simpered.

“See?” he asked you teasingly. “We’re taking care of you,”

“Oh shut up Jimin,” another voice chuckled. “Quit acting like that. It isn’t you,”

Another man walked in, around the same height as “Jungkookie” with silver hair. His voice was deep and you recognized it from the footage. But it still sounded more familiar, like that wasn’t the only time you’d heard it. You racked your brain trying to find it, but could come up with nothing. On a completely different note, he was so extremely pretty. He had a sculpted face and unique eyes and his pink lips curved into a weak smile.

“I came to check if she was awake. Namjoon hyung wants to talk to her,” the deep voice of the man washed over you. “Jungkook, I thought you were on interrogation duty,”

“Yeah but then Jin hyung called,” Jungkook grumbled. “He told me to get her something to eat,”

“I’m sorry, can I please leave?” you interjected pleadingly, tears forming in your eyes because you were so scared and tired and you missed home. “I swear I won’t do anything more. I’ll keep my mouth shut just please let me go home. I didn't know, I’m sorry,”

The silver-haired male's eyes softened a bit but Jungkook spoke up in exhaustion.

“Look, we’d like to get you out of here and forget that you exist, too. But Namjoon hyung still has to decide what to do with you,”

Your blood ran cold. Decide what to do with you. Why did that sound like there was still a possibility that you could be killed? You hoped that this Namjoon was understanding but another part of you was convinced he wasn’t going to be. You were about to find out.

Namjoon was the man on the bus. You were absolutely sure of it. Though the man on the bus had his entire face covered, you would never forget those cold eyes. Dragon eyes.

The same eyes that were looking down at you with a steely, calculating gaze. You wanted to cry so badly but you bit your lip and forced the tears back. Yoongi would tell you to be strong.

“(Last Name) (Name). 21. Aspiring journalist. Did I get the basics?” Namjoon asked in a rough yet cold voice. You nodded slowly and he glanced down at you. “You’ve been getting yourself into places you shouldn't be Miss (Last Name),”

“I know I’m so sorry. Please don’t kill me,” the shaky words were out before you could stop them and your stomach dropped in fear.

Namjoon only sighed and asked you a question. “(Name), what do you think of us?”

“I-what?” you stuttered dumbly, feeling chills run up your spine.

“What do you think about us?” Namjoon repeated coolly and you balked.

“I….” you started. “..That you’re a dangerous gang,”

“And what makes us dangerous?”

“The fact that you’re involved in underground drug trading and burglaries and deaths-”

“How many deaths have you heard about?”

“A-A few,” you responded dumbly, eyes flitting over to Taehyung whose lips twitched upwards a bit at your glance, as though trying to comfort you. Nothing about this situation was comforting.

“And how many of those were innocent civilians, (Name)?” Namjoon asked, turning away from you.

“I-I don’t-” you struggled but Namjoon answered for you.

“None. Because we never allow innocents to get hurt in our business. The deaths you saw were all related to people involved in this life. I promise you that we don’t hurt innocent people. We may not be good but we aren’t evil,”

Jimin blinked slowly with a calm smirk and your shoulders dropped a bit. “S-So you...aren’t gonna kill me?”

“No,” Namjoon’s eyes flitted to you and you saw the fatigue behind them. “But you have to make us a promise,”

“And keep it,” another man, Hoseok, added from his spot behind Namjoon.

“You cannot get involved with us anymore. It’s very dangerous for you and your loved ones. No more digging and outing us to the news. You’re forbidden. Is that clear?”

“Yes,” you agreed easily, anything to get away from the dangers these boys were pulling you into.

“Be serious,” the handsome broad shouldered man piped up. “Otherwise things won’t end well for you,”

“I’ll send Jungkook to kill you,” Namjoon commented offhandedly. You glanced at the bulky male and gulped. You didn't like him very much and with what you’ve seen him do with a knife, you weren’t taking any chances.

“Yes sir,” you bowed quickly. “I promise,”

In the back of your mind, you wondered how they could be letting you go like this. For all they knew, you could go rat them out to the police as soon as you left. That’s when you realized that they were serious. They really didn't hurt innocent people. Even the threat of sending Jungkook after you was to scare you. They’d never act on it. They didn’t hurt innocents. That’s why they were giving you a second chance.

“Good,” Namjoon’s lips turned up and you were surprised at the dimples that appeared. When he smiled he looked much less intimidating and more like an overgrown bear. “You’ll have to be blindfolded before you step outside but once you get into the van, Taehyung will take you straight back to your apartment.

“Thank you,” you smiled weakly before pausing. “Wait-Taehyung?”

“Oh, I didn’t get to introduce myself,” the silver-haired man grinned. “Sorry we had to do all that to you. I’m Taehyung,”

Wasn’t that the name of…?

You pushed the thought aside and nodded softly. You wanted to get out of here as soon as possible. Just because they were letting you go didn’t mean you were suddenly going to trust them. You were sure each of them had identical guns to the ones tucked in Jimin’s black jeans. In Jungkook’s case, maybe more than one.

“Take her back Taehyung. And (Name),” Namjoon called out. “Remember your promise,”

You nodded mutely and followed Taehyung out. He walked you down a corridor in relative silence. Well, what exactly do you say to a kidnapper anyways?

“Um, I know you’re probably scared and upset. I’m really sorry you had to go through that. We don’t normally do these kind of things. But we had to make sure that you weren’t a threat,”

You only nodded again and Taehyung sighed. “We were protecting the people we care about. I think you’d understand if you were in the situation,”

“I...understand,” you mumbled and Taehyung hummed a bit. As you continued down the hallway, you heard a faint grunt of pain. Then some talking and then another shout. Taehyung didn't say anything and continued walking but as you got closer to the room, the sounds became louder.

“-better tell me who the fuck it is, buddy,”

“GO TO HELL, ASSHOLE!!”

The sound of metal colliding with flesh and the howl of pain that followed made your skin crawl.

“Mm try again. Who the fuck sent you after us, huh?”

“I…I can’t tell you, man,”

Another loud blow, this time earning a scream. Your skin crawled as bile rose in your throat. The room was only a few steps away now, the door slightly open.

“I have all night, bitch. I’ll be here until you’re in so much pain you’ll be begging to die,”

There was only a whimper to be heard as you reached the door. Taehyung’s back was getting further away but you still decided to glance inside. You wish you didn’t .

You wish you didn't catch the familiar black hair and pink lips bent over another man’s bloodied body. His hair was messy and wet and his lips were pulled back into a bored snarl. His pretty hands were splattered with blood and his fingers were sporting a familiar piece of metal.

“Tell me,” he sighed condescendingly. “Who sent you?”

“Go….fuck…...yourself,” the other man wheezed. His gums appeared, but not in the smile you knew, but rather in a malicious smirk. A dark chuckle escaped his lips and you watched with tears in your eyes as he reeled his knuckled fist back before shooting it straight into the man’s head. You stumbled back with a shaky cry of disbelief, tears spilling over as you saw his face completely. Taehyung turned around in confusion but your eyes weren’t on him. Dark eyes narrowed at the body, the dark eyes that sparkled with love for you, now empty and cold and cruel. Though they didn’t see yours, you saw everything clearly, and every last bit of trust in you shattered into millions of tiny pieces.

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thechaosdragoness · 4 years ago

Text

I just got a call from my mother. My Nana is in the hospital.

Backstory on this: My Nana has been sick for a long time and has been on oxygen for years. Lately she's been short of breath (not COVID-related, but due to her health problems), however she also puts off her health issues until it's too late which makes my Pop-Pop angry with her, and...this time it could kill her.

She's had a multitude of tests done but nothing had been found, and my uncle has already laid in on them for the issue ("You've done how many tests now? And you still can't find what's wrong with my mother?!") Well not too long ago she also had a bone marrow test done but the results hadn't come back yet, and she was due for a doctor's appt. today.

She fell and hit her head in the bathroom today, not sure if it was before or after the doctor's appointment because my mom didn't specify. Pop-Pop called my uncle to help him get her because he couldn't reach her from where she was in the bathroom, and now she's in the hospital.

While there the doctors finally got the result of her bone marrow test and it turns out her body is producing more white blood cells than red blood cells, which means she could potentially have leukemia or another form of cancer. She keeps trying to tell my Pop-Pop to put her in a nursing home but my family has already told her NO. We all know what happened to my great-grandmother after she was put in a nursing home 14 years ago, and with this COVID thing it's not going to happen. My mother has taken a leave of absence to go and help take care of my Nana, however things are looking pretty grim.

She's already had three units of blood transfused, and could potentially have a fourth one, meaning they basically replaced all the blood in her body. She has a DNR (Do Not Resuscitate) order out, and the doctor asked Pop-Pop if she has a living will in place.

I'm already bracing for the inevitable, and having moved away from NJ I can't go and make my peace in person. Not that I even think she'd want me there. My relationship with her has been...very turbulent my entire life, especially as of this year with me leaving an abusive home situation, which many of you may already know about. I don't know if I can truly forgive her for all the hurtful things she's said and done to me all my life, nor do I think she'll ever apologize for it all...and that's okay. I've come to terms with it all.

Even if she won't show me forgiveness, I still hope that when the time comes for her to pass on that she goes as painlessly and peacefully as possible. I may have had my problems with her, but she still doesn't deserve to suffer from illness. Even if it's the only thing I can do right now, it's still a small bit of kindness towards her despite the malice she's showed me. Kindness is stronger than hate, and I will show some kindness to her in the end of her life even if she can't bring herself to do so to me.

She's still my grandmother. My family. I'm conflicted on many things with her, but I'm her only grandchild. The only thing I can hope for now...is that she truly is sorry for how she treated me.

#chaos babbles #venting #family issues

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wonderfulworldofwinchester · 5 years ago

Text

Hold Me Til Morning

Prompt: “Shh, You’re safe. I won’t let you go.

Jack x Reader

Word Count: 1.6k

Warnings: Nightmares, Language

A/N: This is my first Jack fic! Also I recently hit 1.7k followers, and I can’t even begin to tell you how grateful i am for each and every one of you! I am doing a giveaway to celebrate! All the info can be found at the link below :)

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Being stuck around the bunker kinda sucks, but I guess that’s the price you pay for being reckless. Damn shapeshifter. At least, the crutches are gone. No more hopping all over the place. You had begged Sam and Dean to let you go with them, even if you just had to sit in the motel room and see no action other than research. Yea, That went over well. About as well as a lead balloon. “Hell no!”

“Why?” You protested, crossing your arms over your chest. Dean stuck his hand out and pushed against your shoulder causing you to step back to regain your balance. Sharp pain shot to your knee as you foot came down, “ah shit!”

He raised his brows and pointed, “That’s why!”. You swore your eyes would bore a hole right through him if you glared any harder. “Look, it sucks. I get it. You’ll be back out there in no time, but it’s just too big a risk right now. Let it heal.”

Sam gave a sympathetic look over his brother’s shoulder, “He’s right. You need to heal up.”

“Ugh. Fine.” You threw yourself down in the chair by the table. “I’ll be here to answer your every beckon like a freaking secretary.”

“Y/N-”

“I know. I know.” You waved them off, “Research is every bit important. Sometimes more important,” Your tone was nothing less than mockery as you sneered out every word. “It saves lives. You’re still on the team.”

A week later, the phone rang for the millionth time, “What now? So help me god, Sam Winchester, if you woke me up to ask some stupid ass question again…”

You could hear Dean’s laughter in the background as well as the bitch face Sam was wearing when he spoke, “Actually, we’re headed home. Be there about noon tomorrow.” He paused for a moment, “And we have someone with us.”

“What? Who?!” You demanded answers, but were met with none.

“We’ll explain when we get there.” The phone called ended with a click, and only added to your racing train of thought.

When the door opened the next day, you damn near competed in the Olympics to get over there to see who the hell they had with them. He was just a boy. Huh? He looked around the room with a child-like wonder. So curious about every little detail, wanting to understand it all, but without any context. His smile was wide and warm when his eyes landed on you, “you must be Y/N!”

Cutting your eyes at the boys you gave a small nod, “Yea. Who are you?”

His voice again carried an innocence to it like a child that almost made it eerie, “I’m Jack.”

Sam stepped forward with what you can only assume was supposed to be a reassuring smile, “Y/N, this is Jack Kline-”

Your head popped back and your eyes went wide, “Certainly, not Kline as in Kelly Kline. As in the Devil’s mistress, and mother of the freaking spawn of Satan.”

“I know right.” Dean chimed in, “That’s what I said.”

Cue the bitch face from Sam, “Look he’s not like his father, and he needs us. Plus, you know, keep ‘em closer and all.”

“Fine, but it’s your ass Winchester. I want it noted, I was not a part of this!”

A small giggle slipped from Jack’s lips as he watched you scold Sam, “You’re funny, “Y/N.”

That was three months ago. It didn’t take long for him to grow on you. For some reason you quickly became his favorite person. He followed you pretty much everywhere, and that’s when Dean had to tell him that bathroom breaks were not a group activity. Which you had to admit was a pretty funny conversation to watch take place.

The first couple weeks, Sam and Dean were somewhat grateful to have him taken off their hands so they could get some work done. Oh how that was turned on them. You and Jack were just like kids running through the bunker after that. Inseparable. He was quite adorable, and just oh so easy to mold. You taught him everything. Well, all the fun stuff.

He was your own personal apprentice, ready and willing to help you prank the boys. He did have some questions to begin with. “Wait, won’t this make Dean mad?”

“Oh, Jack, that’s the point, my dear.” You patted his shoulder gently, “It’s how you show love, Winchester style.” He shrugged and followed you into the elder hunters room trying to stifle a laugh when you attempted to somersault in like a ninja.

Although he was practically joined at the hip with you, there were still some things that you managed to keep hidden. Mostly the scars years of hunting had etched into you. Not the kind that peppered your skin. No, these scars cut deep. The kind that sit and fester in your mind. The ones that either keep you awake at night, or haunt your dreams.

You never let Jack see that side of you. You didn’t let him see the broken pieces that threaten to tear you apart. He needed stability. He needed someone to help him cope with who he was. He certainly didn’t need to be scared off by the crap rolling through your head at night, so you locked your door, and hoped to God that he never heard your cries.

For months that worked, until one night it didn’t. You’d had one hell of a nightmare that left screams ripping from your lungs as you desperately tried to get a grip on reality and drag yourself from the horrors of the dream. Jack heard them from down the hall. Terrified that someone was hurting you, he bolted towards your room. “Y/N!” When he found the door locked, he busted it off the hinges, his eyes glowing a bright golden hue. His eyes fell on your body curled up on the floor by your bed, knees hugged tightly to your chest. “Y/N, Y/N. Are you alright?” You flinched when his hand made contact with your thigh, “Did something hurt you?”

You finally managed to calm your breathing and answer him, “Yes. A long time ago.”

“What do you mean?” He was so adorable with the way his head tilted and brows furrowed when he was confused.

Sitting up , you placed your hand on his cheek, “Jack, I just had a nightmare. It’s okay.” He looked so hurt as his eyes looked over your form, still trying to make sure that you were in fact okay. “I promise, it’s okay.”

“Do you have them often? He asked.

Your eyes fell, to the small space in between you. You decided that honesty is important in this relationship. You owed him that much. “Most nights.”

Jack looked like a puppy that had just been kicked, “I hate seeing you like this!” He was almost borderline angry at this point, “How do I fix it?”

Oh precious lamb. “You don’t, Jack. It’s a part of a hunter’s life. With what we see they don’t go away just because you don’t like them.”

He stayed silent for a while as he processed all this. Finally, he spoke, his voice barely above a whisper, “Please don’t shut me out.”

“What?” You placed a hand under his chin, causing his eyes to meet yours. “I never wanted to keep you out. I just didn’t want you to see this side of me. The side that falls apart.”

“No more locked doors.” He held out his pinky waiting on you to promise him. You had jokingly told him that pinky promises were the highest form of deals.

You linked your finger with his, “Okay, but I don’t think I could if I wanted to”, You said looking over at the remnants of your door scattered around the entryway. His eyes apologised for him as they met yours, “It’s okay, Jack. Trust me, it’s not the first or last thing to be broken around here.”

Two nights later, the nightmares were back. This time however, there were no barriers stopping Jack from racing to your side. He was quickly by your side, wiping tears from your cheeks, “Y/N, Y/N, it’s okay.”

Your eyes opened to worry etched on his face as he tried to console you. Without a word, you shifted over in the bed. He slid in next to you, and you rested your head against his chest. Your body was still shaking with the aftershocks of the nightmare. Jack hesitantly placed his arms around you as fresh tears began to fall. The nightmare had been about him. You’d lost him. When he felt his shirt start to dampen, his grip got tighter, “Shh, you’re safe. I won’t let you go.”

You stayed like that for the rest of the night. It was the best sleep you’d gotten in years. And Jack. Jack was content to just hold you and watch over you. He heard you when you said he couldn’t stop them, but he was determined he was damn sure gonna try. Nothing was gonna hurt his Y/N if he had any say in it.

When you didn’t come out for breakfast, Dean wandered down the hall looking for you. It was unusual for you not to be up and about by then. He stopped just outside your room and looked through the open doorway to find you still asleep, curled up into Jack’s side with him stroking your hair. Dean wanted to fight it, but he couldn’t help the small smile that formed on his lips. Even if he wouldn’t approve, he was glad to see you so peaceful.

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