Barefaced Seokjin Rehearsing For Epiphany

barefaced seokjin rehearsing for epiphany

Some kahwa in the evening, to go with sociological theory

So, India is dying.

Look, I know a good number of you are from the US and things aren't amazing there either, but my country is literally on the brink of collapse. So I'd love it if we could talk about that for a minute.

If you can't do anything else, please just read and reblog.

A second COVID wave has taken out the healthcare system. There are no more hospital beds. There's an oxygen shortage. There's a critical vaccine shortage. The Central Government has thrown its hands up and is passing the baton to the State Governments to do what they can.

There are over 16 million covid cases. A record 330,000 new cases reported yesterday - comparable to the US at its peak. 187,000 dead as of today.

There is no plan.

Mass cremations are taking place. The cremation grounds are running day and night and they are short on wood. People are watching their loved ones die while waiting for a hospital bed, and then they're unable to give them the proper burial rights.

Hospitals are overwhelmed. Patients are being confined, two to a bed. They're the lucky ones.

We are on the verge of people dying in the streets.

This is the second-most populous country in the world. The largest democracy. A country that encapsulates over 15,000 years of recorded human history and has endured everything from famine to invasion to colonisation.

We might be at the end. This might be the thing that does us in.

People are dying.

People are dying.

People are dying and there is no plan.

More good news? Variants are popping up. A double mutation strain has shown up. It is resistant to current vaccines. This will not go away. This is the devastation they warned of when the anti-maskers were out protesting the minor inconvenience of covering their face in public.

My country is on the verge of an emergency state. Our government has failed us. This is as dire a situation as it ever could be.

Look. I don't do much with my life. I write fics, some of you have read them and that's pretty much it. I spend my days with my head in the clouds because that's where I like to be.

But two days ago, my grandmother tested positive, had to be taken to hospital and the ambulance caught fire.

She barely made it to the urgent care she needs.

So, here I am, using whatever meager platform I have to cobble this request together. Because I have to do something.

If you can, donate.

Or spread the word.

Help. Please.

greedy | myg x reader | final chapter: the last exit sign

summary: being a loner has never bothered yoongi until now.  until you.

pairing: yoongi x reader

genre: mafia AU, pining, eventual smut

rating: 18+

word count: 12.9K

notes:  y’all. i finished it. i can’t tell you how much it means to me that you guys read the things i write, talk to me about them, leave amazing feedback. i hope every last one of you knows that this makes me endlessly happy.

warnings: FEELINGS my god so many feelings forgive me. standard smut warnings including but not limited to: oral (m/f), protected sex (she’s a DOCTOR y’all), an inordinate amount of talking during/before/after sex. 

betas: no way could i have pulled this chapter off without @hobi-gif​ and @btsarmy9593​ . seriously these two saved me from myself a wild number of times and i appreciate them so much.

squad: you guys truly are at the heart of my tumblr experience. thank you for being with me on this story from day one. your encouragement and friendship makes all of this worthwhile @ladyartemesia @untaemedqueen @ppersonna​​

Chapter 01 | 02 | 03 | 04 | 05 | 06 | EPILOGUE

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What kind of person am I?

Am I a good person?

Or a bad person?

Many ways to judge

People – Agust D

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Kim Namjoon is in a shit mood.

An organization that – to this point – has had as much impact as a fart in this city is on his radar for the second time in a month.  One of his most trusted captains has been keeping him in the dark about a situation that has put him at odds with that same organization.  And it’s a Thursday, which means his wife is probably making Jjajangmyeon.

Namjoon does not skip Jjajangmyeon night.

But tonight, he’s doing just that – trading his seat at the dinner table for the passenger seat of Hoseok’s luxury sedan.  He’s already chewed his way through half a roll of the mints he took up when he stopped drinking and the air in the car is starting to smell like a tube of toothpaste.

“Run it down again,” he orders tersely.

Hoseok keeps his mouth shut.  He’s been largely silent for this entire ride, steering well clear of Namjoon’s dangerous mood.  He locks eyes with Yoongi in the rearview mirror and raises a brow.  

That’s all you, pal.

Yoongi clears his throat.

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