#five years and i have finally been able to complete all 30 days

[whitherwanderer]

30 // amity

Breath slow. Eyes open. Hands steady, for once. It was nice not to feel how much of her strength she’d lost and still be able to aim straight.

When was the last time she did this? When was the last time she did this and felt something good?

She squared her posture, pulled her arm back tight, and stared down the first bottle she’d perched on a rock. She took her time. She felt through herself, the wind, the savory calm. And when she was ready, it wasn't a matter of letting go in the way she was used to. Instead, she gripped tight. She squeezed the trigger.

Her arms jerked, but she held herself steady. It wasn’t as loud as she remembered, though the shot rang through the desert and scared the nearby birds into flight or silence. And her target? Sif’s heart nearly burst into flames in her chest when all she could see of it were glittering shards of brown glass littering the dirt. But she pulled a deep breath. Then another. Measured. Composed. For a beat.

Her boot came down hard into the gravel and her arms went up in the air, barking a laugh at herself as she pulled the weapon—this hard-won trophy, a symbol that she wasn’t a failure but merely changed—close to her chest to feel the heat off of it. “Gods, damn it. Finally,” she sighed, an irrepressible smile on her lips.

If only she had more than a precious few bullets, she might have fired off another round or two, become more familiar with the weapon, built her confidence and learned her limits. But this? This small, long-sought victory was enough for now. Enough to assure her that she could still be good for something. That he alone wouldn't have to bear the responsibility of protecting them both.

Spinner would have Her way of turning her fortunes tomorrow, Sif wagered, but today? Today was hers.

She settled down in the shade of the ironwood under which they’d made camp and set the weapon aside in favor of a flask, lifting it to the heavens in thanks before bringing it to her lips. As a bitter taste flooded her tongue, she was given pause, then huffed to herself.

A battle-in-progress that she was fighting on a quieter front. Tea.

[formula-nyoom]

Grid Graduation

Platonic!Grid x Fem!Reader

Summary: Being a racecar driver and actively pursuing a higher education is a feat in and of itself. You didn't let your career get in the way of going to college. But when racing seems to prevent you from attending your graduation ceremony, your fellow drivers decide to take matters into their own hands

A/N: Congratulations to all the people that are graduating this month or next month! I hope you guys have amazing celebrations. And to my fellow college students who still have a year or years left to go, we’re going to get through it, even if it seems like hell. I know that the color of the graduation gowns can vary by college or are usually black but I went with dark blue because that was the color of my gown when I got my associates degree. 

~~~

Some people would say it's stupid to try and get a bachelor’s degree while being a race car driver. 

“You already have a career. Why would you spend all your free time off track pursuing something you don’t really need?” is the question that was constantly asked to you during interviews. Your answer: because it was important to you. It’s common knowledge that karting and racing takes up most of a driver’s life. And while most drivers are able to pursue basic schooling and education during their karting days and early single seater days, once a driver makes it higher up the racing ladder, pursuing an education becomes second to trying to be the best race car driver on track. 

You on the other hand felt that your pursuit of racing should not get in the way of your education. And thankfully with the ability to take online classes, you didn’t have that worry. 

“You’ve refreshed that page five times in the last 30 seconds.” Alex said as you two sat in the drivers lounge. It was media day so thankfully neither of you had to worry about racing and instead your worry was focused on something else.

 “Can you blame me? I’m supposed to get sent an email that tells me whether or not I graduate today and I’m dying to know.” You said, refreshing the page again. You had finally completed all the required courses you needed to graduate and get your bachelors degree. Now you were just waiting for the confirmation that all the hard work, all the study sessions you had done between and after races, and all the all nighters was worth it. 

 “Have you gotten the email yet?” You looked up from your laptop to see Logan approaching with Oscar behind him. You refreshed the page again.

 “Nope. Still nothing.” You let out a frustrated sigh. All the other drivers knew about your pursuit of a college education while also being a race car driver. They had been nothing but supportive in your efforts and could tell how worried you were about having to wait for your college’s final decision on you graduating.

 “The email will come eventually. Staring at the screen isn’t going to help.” Oscar said. 

“I suppose you’re right.” You said, refreshing the page again. You were about to close your laptop, putting the matter temporarily to rest, when the page loaded and showed you had a new email. It was from your college.

 “It’s here!” You exclaimed. You were about to open the email when you paused your finger over the mouse pad.

“I don’t think I can open this. What if they deny me? Or what if this email tells me that I still have some courses that I need to pass to graduate?” You started nervously chewing on your bottom lip as worst case scenarios started to run through your head. Logan placed a reassuring hand on your shoulder

 “(Y/N), you’ve been working your ass off the past couple years to get this degree. They’d be stupid to not let you graduate.” Logan said. 

 “I can read the email for you first if you want.” Alex offered. That seemed to calm your nerves. You handed Alex the laptop and waited with bated breath as he opened the email. Anticipation started to build as it seemed to take forever for Alex to read the first line of the email

“Congratulations (Y/N) (L/N), you have met the requirements to graduate!” Alex exclaimed.

 “Really?” You grabbed the laptop and read the first line of the email that did indeed confirm that you were graduating. Logan and Oscar started to shake your shoulders in excitement as you started to laugh from happiness.

 “I’m graduating!” You exclaimed. Logan, Alex and Oscar let out cheers of excitement as you read the first lines of the email again.

“What’s with the excitement?” Charles asked as he and Max entered the driver’s lounge.

 “(Y/N) got the confirmation that she’s graduating college.” Alex said.

“Congratulations!”Max said. He ruffled your hair while Charles gave you a hug. You were practically beaming with happiness as you started to read the email out loud. 

“Congratulations (Y/N) (L/N), you have met the requirements to graduate! We commend you for this amazing accomplishment and we’d like you to attend the graduation ceremony on….June 7th.” Your voice trailed off after reading the date and your smile slowly started to drop.

 “Are you gonna go?” Oscar asked. You shook your head.

“I can’t. We’ll all be in Canada for Free Practice.” You said. It was true. Your college’s graduation ceremony was the same week of the Canadian Grand Prix.

 “Do you think your team will let you go?” Alex asked. “I mean, you’ve done Canada multiple times and you’ll do it again. But you only really graduate college once, especially considering you're a race car driver.”

 “I don’t think (Y/N)’s team will let her go. Free Practice isn’t something you can really miss.” Max said. He was right. Attending a graduation ceremony seemed like a trivial matter compared to your career. 

 “But (Y/N)’s worked so hard for this. Surely her team will understand.” Logan said.

“No, it’s…it’s ok if I miss the graduation ceremony. I’ve been given confirmation that I’m graduating and will get my diploma in the mail later this year. That’s enough for me.” You told them. But that wasn’t really true. You would have liked to attend the ceremony. If not for just the celebration but also for the sense of normalcy away from the racetrack and responsibilities of being a Formula One driver. 

 “Well we can still celebrate right? Maybe get all the drivers together for a dinner?” Charles suggested. You smiled a bit.

 “Yea Charles. A dinner would be nice. This is still a cause for a celebration. Even if I can’t go to the official one.”

Dinner with the other drivers was a nice celebration. It helped you forget about not being able to attend the graduation ceremony for a while. But the week of the Canadian Grand Prix seemed to bring up that fact again. It seemed the media wanted to remind you too.

 “Well, before we start taking questions, I’d like to say congratulations to you, (Y/N). It was recently let known that you’ve graduated college and now have a bachelor's degree.” The media commentator for the drivers press conference said to you as you sat on a couch next to George, Lando, Lewis, and Zhou. 

“Thank you. If I didn't have to be here in Canada, I'd actually be attending the graduation ceremony, which is happening tomorrow. But racing takes priority.” You smiled to hide some of your disappointment, but the other drivers seemed to notice.

 “I’m sure you and your family are proud of all your efforts. Maybe some of the drivers too?” The interviewer said, motioning to the drivers next to you.

“I’m insanely proud of (Y/N) for what she’s accomplished. She’s shown that racing shouldn’t get in the way of pursuing an education.” Lewis said.

 “I will say, (Y/N) has worked harder than anyone else on the grid.” Zhou said. 

“She won’t admit it herself though.” George said, nudging your side. You shook your head.

“In terms of something like this, even if I can’t attend a graduation ceremony, I’m proud of all the work I’ve done.” You said.

 “Well, I hope you celebrate or have already celebrated what is an immense accomplishment.” The interviewer said.

 “Me and the other drivers on the grid actually went out to dinner to celebrate the day I found out I was graduating to make up for the fact that I can’t attend the ceremony. It was a really nice dinner and I’m glad I have friends to celebrate my accomplishments with.” You smiled at your friends sitting next to you. They smiled back, but for a different reason. 

Despite your efforts to hide your disappointment, your fellow drivers could tell how upset you were about not being able to attend your graduation ceremony. And while the dinner was indeed nice, they wanted you to have a proper celebration for such an immense accomplishment.

That’s how George and Lando ended up knocking on your driver’s room door after interviews and media responsibilities were done for the day.

 “Hey guys. What’s up?” You asked as you opened the door for them.

“Put this on.” Lando handed you a bag with what you assumed had to contain clothing.

 “Why? What is it that you have handed me?” You gave him a skeptical look.

“Open the bag and find out.” Lando said. You did as he instructed and pulled out something made of dark blue fabric. At first you thought it was a dress, but unfurling it revealed to be a graduation gown. You tried not to frown. The only need for something like this would be for graduation photos, which you had already taken. But Lando and George were insistent and you decided to amuse their idea for now and put it on.

“Now what? You want me to get into a race car and drive around the track in a graduation gown?” George and Lando just laughed.

 “I don’t think the FIA will allow that. At least not in just the gown.” Lando said.

“Of course you can’t have the gown without the cap.”  George handed you a graduation cap with a tassel in your team color. The cap was decorated with a little race car on top that had a diploma trailing behind it. 

 “What’s…what’s all this for?” You asked, while putting the cap on. You don’t know why you decided to put the cap on, but did so anyway.

“It’s for your graduation ceremony of course.” Lando said. You frowned.

 “There’s no way I can attend that ceremony.” You said.

“We’re not talking about your college’s graduation ceremony. We’re talking about the one that’s happening right now.” George said. “Come on.”

George and Lando ushered you out of your driver’s room and started to lead you somewhere. You still looked at them with confusion. 

 “We already celebrated during that dinner.”

“But it wasn’t a proper ceremony.” Lando said, leading you towards the track entrance. By now, you were starting to suspect what George and Lando were up to. It wasn’t confirmed until they led you to the start line.

“You guys did not….” Rows and rows of chairs were set up on the track with a makeshift aisle in the middle. Each chair was filled with one of your fellow drivers or members of your team. Tears started to well up in your eyes at the realization of what was happening. 

 “We wanted you to have a proper graduation ceremony.” Lando said, wrapping an arm around you and pulling you into a side hug. Now you were trying really hard not to cry.

 “C’mon. Everyone’s waiting for you.” George said. He and Lando walked you past all chairs, the drivers and team members applauding you as you walked past. 

Lewis and Fernando were standing at what was designated the stage and greeted you with a hug and a whispered “congratulations” as you approached. 

 “Shall we get started then?” Lewis, who had been designated the commencement speaker, said to get everyone’s attention. Everyone quieted down and took a seat

“We are gathered here to recognize the immense accomplishments of (Y/N) (L/N) in her pursuit of a higher education in the form of a bachelor's degree. Not only has she strived for what many have wanted to achieve, but did so while also managing the life of a Formula One driver. That is something not many can do.” Lewis said.

 “I now ask for Fernando to present the graduate with their diploma.” Fernando walked over to you and handed you a piece of paper, then the two of you shook hands as formality of a traditional graduation ceremony while George quickly snapped a photo. You looked at the “diploma” that was handed to you and couldn’t help but let out a laugh. It was a diploma template that you could find on the internet that included your name and the name of your college. Though the official seal had your team logo on it. 

“I now ask the graduate of 2024, to move your tassel from right to left and signify your newfound graduation status.” Lewis said. By now, it was getting really hard to try and keep the tears in as you moved the tassel from right to left. Lewis smiled.

 “It is my pleasure to present (Y/N) (L/N) as the grid’s graduating class of 2024.” Everyone stood up and applauded you. At this point you couldn’t keep the tears in any longer and started to cry but also cheer. Lewis pulled you into a hug, followed by Fernando, then Lando and George and it got to the point of just being a big group hug full of drivers.

 “Go on, toss the cap!” Logan exclaimed once the group hug broke away. Chants of “Toss it! Toss it!” started to echo till you took the graduation cap off and tossed it into the air, signifying that all that hard work was worth it.

[fairuzfan]

Palestinian men detained by Israeli forces since the start of the war in Gaza have told Middle East Eye how they were physically tortured with dogs and electricity, subjected to mock executions, and held in humiliating and degrading conditions.

In testimonies to MEE, one man, who was taken by Israeli forces from a school in Gaza where he had sought refuge with his family, described how he had been handcuffed, blindfolded, and detained in a metal cage for 42 days.

During interrogations, he said he had been given electric shocks, as well as scratched and bitten by army dogs.

Other men also described being electrocuted, attacked by dogs, doused with cold water, denied food and water, deprived of sleep, and subjected to constant loud music.

“They did not spare anyone. There were 14-year-old boys and 80-year-old men,” said one of the men, Moaz Muhammad Khamis Miqdad, who was taken prisoner in Gaza City in December and held for more than 30 days.

As well as three men taken prisoner in Gaza, MEE spoke to a man detained in a raid in the West Bank city of Qalqilya who said he had been blindfolded, stripped naked, and hung by his arms during interrogations in which he was repeatedly beaten and burnt with cigarettes.

He also described being held for days in freezing conditions in which he was not allowed to sleep and of a soldier urinating in a bottle and handing it to him after he had requested water.

All four men described being forced to strip naked and being constantly beaten and abused by Israeli soldiers during their weeks-long detentions.

MEE has also spoken to a number of other former detainees who also described similar experiences to those of the men in this story.

[....]

Eventually, they were dropped at an unknown location. Five soldiers came into the room where they were being held and continued beating them.

This pattern of being moved around in vehicles between different locations, all the while being subjected to beatings, continued over several days.

Finally, the men arrived at a location where they were forced to kneel on the floor, still restrained with handcuffs and blindfolded.

“We all remained like this for 37 days… almost naked in the blistering cold, our bodies exhausted, our souls drifting away. The food was barely enough to keep you alive,” said Hassan.

When the men tried to complain about the conditions of their detention, their captors brought in soldiers with dogs.

“They unleashed them on us. The dogs would attack us, scratching us while the commander would continue to beat us with utter brutality.”

Every few days the men would be taken for questioning. Hassan said he was shown images of tunnels and his interrogators would ask him what he knew about them.

“Whenever I said that I didn’t [know anything] they would slap, punch, hit, and kick me all over my body,” said Hassan.

“The soldiers with their commander would make a lot of noise… so we were not able to sleep and remained exhausted and completely strained from fatigue, starvation, and torture.”

One night in the early hours as he tried to rest, Hassan was kicked awake by a soldier and dragged to a bus with four other men. The bus took them to Karm Abu Salem, the main crossing between Israel and southern Gaza, where they were released.

“The commander screamed at us that we should walk quickly, but I could barely walk [because of] the beating and kneeling and the lack of food and sleep. The soldiers started running after us to scare us.”

Hassan said the men managed to drag themselves to nearby UN buses that were waiting to collect them.

[jkbabiey]

Rock Bottom | PJM

⇢ pairing: Jimin X Reader

⇢ Genre: Idol!Jimin, angst, fluff, smut, establishedrelationship!AU, marriage! AU

⇢ Synopsis: When, in a four-year marriage, you get to the point where you question its worth, you know that’s your rock bottom. How many I’m sorry’s will you handle? How many times are too many times?

⇢ Song Rec: Rock Bottom by Hailee Steinfeld, Teach Me by Kyle Dion, Sorry by Heize, Home by Ailee and Yoon Mirae, Tide by Woodz, Pride and Prejudice by ZICO and Suran, Want You Back by 5SOS

⇢ Word Count: ~4.7K

⇢ Warnings: brat OC, anger issues in here, this is honestly a sad angsty au, workaholic Jimin, frustrated OC and frustrated Jimin, unprotected sex, Jimin doesn't care about sleep, OC may be lacking some self-respect but Jimin will fix that for her

⇢ Authors note: After a long time without writing, I'm back. I loved writing this. It was supposed to be a Jungkook one-shot like always, but then I realized that it fits Jimin's vibe so much better. So I decided to change it up :)) Really like how it turned out tho. Enjoy <3

You loved Jimin with all your heart.

You loved him more than you had ever loved anyone else. Five years into your marriage and he still erupted the most euphoric butterflies in your stomach. A thousand of them. Everything from his voice, to the way he snored softly when he slept, to the way he looked at you... You loved him.

Your life with Jimin felt like a fairytale. Always had. You married in a botanic garden after 4 years of secret dating, with all his and your family and friends by your side. You bought a house together right after, figuring the one you had been living in until then wasn't big enough for a future family, and have been living in it together for four years now.

Tonight was the fourth anniversary of your marriage. Four years since Jimin officially became yours and you became his.

So you had asked your boss to leave work earlier today and rushed home, at 5 PM, to prepare Jimin's favorite dish. You also bought vanilla-scented candles and an extra pretty table towel on the way home. You texted Jimin a quick 'can u be home by 9?' and got a 'yup, I'll be there' back. You were sure Jimin didn't remember what today meant - but you didn't blame him and didn't even have the strength to get mad at him. He was a busy man and you knew his work required his full attention. Most of the time, you stood in second place in his priorities. And, surprisingly, after four years of dating him and another four of being married to him, you had gotten used to that.

You took a shower after the food was ready and the table set, at 7:55 PM, and put on the prettiest, sexiest lacy black lingerie you owned - the one you knew Jimin loved. You squeezed into the tightest black dress you saw after searching your walk-in closet, and the prettiest high heels. You let your hair natural and loose like you knew Jimin liked and did your make-up - red lips and a pointed eyeliner. You looked amazing.

All for Jimin.

At 9 PM you headed downstairs and sat down patiently at the dinner table, after lighting the candles. At 9:30 PM you texted Jimin a 'u coming?' and at 10 PM you still had no answer. At 11 PM, you looked out the window, searching for his black shiny car and at midnight you were blowing out the candles that were almost completely melted at this point. You headed upstairs, finally losing all hope that Jimin would still show up to have an anniversary dinner with you, his wife, because, after all, it wasn't your birthday anymore. You hadn't seen your husband at all throughout the whole day, since he had chosen to sleep in the dorms the prior night - always the busy man.

At 2 AM Jimin wasn't home yet and you weren't asleep, because you had started to worry. What if something had happened? Jimin would call if he noticed he wouldn't be able to make it home at 9, right? So at 2:20 AM, when Jimin got to his car to head home and turned on his phone, after turning it off to focus on his work, he noticed the 14 missed calls and 9 worried text messages. All from you.

At 2:35 AM you heard the bedroom door open and you sighted in relief watching Jimin coming through it, from your seating position in your bed, under the covers. You didn't say a word, noticing Jimin's late realization of the compromise he had missed - if you hadn't left the table set in the dining room, you're pretty sure he probably wouldn't be aware of it yet. You laid down, ripping your disappointed gaze from his, with your back against him.

"Baby..." you heard him mutter and closed your eyes "I'm sorry I forgot, I didn't know you had prepared dinner for us-"

"Don't talk Jimin," you interrupted, knowing there was no way that Jimin would be able to make you feel better or make himself feel better right that moment. Hot-headed Y/N wasn't cool to talk to. "Let me sleep."

Jimin didn't say a thing. You heard the ruffling of his clothes being thrown to the armchair inside your walk-in closet. His steps towards the bathroom sounded heavy and slow - tired.

You knew Jimin was tired. He had been having full days of practice, producing and recording, for the new album. You did understand how he could forget the dinner, but the fact that he did forget just reminded you how you'd never be at the top of his mind, like he was at the top of yours, all the time. And, no matter how you tried to push it to the side, it still hurt.

Jimin, on the other side of the door that separated you guys' bathroom and bedroom, couldn't feel worse for leaving you waiting after seeing the pretty dress you had worn for him thrown across the bathroom bench and your heels neatly placed on the tiled floor, next to the door. When he got back inside the bedroom, he heard the quiet sobs you were trying to hide from him, your shaking back facing his side of the bed, and your shiny hair laid out on the bed, on top of his pillow.

Jimin felt bad, but he couldn't understand why you'd be so upset over a missed dinner. He knew you had gotten dressed up and had cooked for him - but you could have dinner tomorrow or eat the food you had prepared and that he knew was delicious by lunch.

Your anniversary was the furthest thing from his mind.

"Y/N, can we talk?". When you didn't answer, he placed a gentle hand on your exposed shoulder, turning your body towards him. "I know you're not asleep, baby."

"Leave me alone," you cried, turning around abruptly to get rid of Jimin's hand, which was now rubbing your arm. Jimin's heart clenched when your eyes finally rested on his and he saw the pain behind your teary gaze.

"I'm sorry," Jimin whispered, not bothering your aggressiveness and still resting his hand on your cheek, his thumb caressing your cheekbone. "We can have lunch tomorrow, or you can put on your dress and heels and I'll take you to an expensive restaurant," he laughed lightly watching you roll your eyes at him.

"I wanted to have dinner tonight, Jimin," you whined, trying to wipe your tears away. Jimin laid down next to you, evolving your waist in his strong arms and pulling your body closer to his, now face-to-face. He kissed the tip of your nose and your tear-stained cheeks, smiling at how adorable you looked to him with pouted lips and wet lashes.

"Why's that? Tomorrow the weather is gonna be better than tonight, tonight is cold. I can take you out tomorrow and you won't be cold in that dress," he joked while your lips parted in realization. He still hadn't remembered what today had been.

You knew Jimin had forgotten what day today was. But you thought that seeing the dinner laid out on the dinner table had reminded him that tonight was your fourth anniversary. He couldn't really think you'd prepare such a fancy dinner just for fun, right? "Are you kidding me?" you asked, your gaze regaining the anger it had lost shortly. The panic was back in your husband's eyes and he didn't know what was wrong now. "Do you even know what today is?"

"Wha-"

"Jimin, today was the 6th of April. Do you know what that means?" you asked and when Jimin's eyes wandered around the space behind you, looking for an answer, you grabbed his arm and lifted it off your waist, getting up from your bed.

Not only had Jimin forgotten your birthday, but he was also completely unaware of what the 6th of April was supposed to mean like it wasn't the day he had gotten married to you - what did that say about him? what did it say about what you meant to him? and above all that, what did it say about your relationship?

"Y/N, calm down. I'm sorry. I don-don't... I can't remember," he said, his tone getting smaller and smaller. He rubbed his temples, trying his best so that something would come to his mind. Nothing.

"Oh my god, Jimin," you laughed ironically, covering your face with both your hands, as tears started forming in your eyes once again. "You really don't know what happened on the 6th of April?"

Jimin didn't answer, looking at you with confused eyes. "Why am I not surprised?" you chortled, almost sounding mean to Jimin. "This is what always happens! You're always too busy. Too busy with work. Too busy to take care of yourself! Too busy to take care of me! Too busy to even think of me-"

"That's not true, I'm always thinking of you-"

"Oh! Is that why you missed our fucking fourth birthday dinner tonight?" you screamed, interrupting him and watching his eyes get wide and his lips part. "You are way too busy, Jimin. You don't have time for anything other than work," you whispered as he stood up from bed to stand closer to you.

"I'm s-so sorry," he whispered. "I totally forgot..."

"I know, that's the problem, Jimin! You are the love of my life and you are my priority, always."

"Y/N, please-"

"Let me talk." you raised your hand to stop him and he did just that, pressing his lips together in a straight line and resting both his hands on his hips. "What I'm saying is, I'm never gonna be your priority-"

"Y/N, you are my priority!" he couldn't help but burst that out, running a frustrated hand through his messy dark blonde hair. He sighed, looking at you as your disappointed eyes bored into his tired ones. "I work a lot. I'm rarely home. There are days we don't even see each other. But I work so that I can support a future with you. A future with kids. A future where I can keep buying your fancy dresses and taking you to expensive restaurants-"

"You could buy me the fanciest dress in the world and it wouldn't matter a thing if you still showed up at home at three in the fucking morning." you interrupted, your voice sounding even angrier than it was before. "Jimin, I couldn't care less about that shit. I didn't marry you for your money. I don't care about fancy dresses or expensive restaurants. I lived without those things before meeting you, and I can live without them now!" you exclaimed and Jimin lowered his head, looking at the floor. "I married you because I love you. You! Not your money!"

"I know that-"

"It doesn't seem like you do. When was the last time we had a meal together? When was the last time you took me out on a date? And I'm not asking you to take me to a fucking expensive restaurant, I'm asking for a stroll in the park! Or maybe a picnic! I'm just asking for you to take me to go eat fucking ice cream or some shit!" you paused, taking a deep breath as Jimin sat back in your shared bed, looking down and fidgeting with his fingers. "When was the last time you touched me? We don't even have sex anymore, for God's sake!" Jimin poked the inside of his cheek at that and let out an entertained chuckle. "Really? Is that funny to you?" You asked, angry as ever, and Jimin looked up at you.

"Can you stop yelling?" he asked with the calmest voice you'd ever heard coming from him as he stood up once again to stand right in front of you, with his face inches away from yours. "Y/N, if what you wanted was sex, you could've just said that." he spat out, anger and annoyance filling his voice tone.

Instinct spoke louder than you as you raised a hand as if about to slap him, but Jimin was faster than you, grabbing your forearm to prevent you from doing something you surely would regret later. "Don't go there," he said sternly, with a grave deep voice.

You looked at him angrier than he had ever seen you, with a clenched jaw and fisted hands. You shook your arm, letting Jimin's hand fall, and ran your fingers through your wild hair. "Fuck you," you whispered before walking out of the bedroom. You walked towards the kitchen. Not even five minutes after you left the room, heavy footsteps could be heard throughout the walls. Until you felt his presence by the kitchen door even though you had your back to him.

“Do you think I stay at work this late because I want to? Don’t you think I’d much rather be home having dinner with you by 9?” he asked, his tone angry but still calm and collected. “It’s my work! I have no choice whether I want to do it or not-“

“Jimin, leaving work earlier one day wouldn’t be the end of your career, I’m telling you,” you mocked sarcastically and could feel Jimin rolling his eyes, even without facing him.

“I’m sorry I missed dinner, but it’s not like I was out partying with the boys. I was working. I’ve been working since 7 AM. I was supposed to go sleep in the dorms so I wouldn't have to wake up even earlier tomorrow, but I still came home, because you asked me to. The last thing I need is for you to spend the night mad at me” he sighed when you finally turned around, to show him that his speech hadn't had that much of an effect. You were still mad. Very mad.

“You came home because ‘I asked you',” you mimicked, “not because you wanted to see me after not seeing me for two whole days?”

“Oh my fucking god” Jimin growled and looked up at the ceiling before running both his hands through his hair.

“And so what? You’re tired! But am I supposed to just shut up and don't be mad when you forget our marriage's fourth anniversary? I'm sorry for expressing my feelings-"

"Can't we just have dinner tomorrow?" he interrupted. The annoyance back to his voice.

"Jimin, go to sleep." You finished, leaning against the balcony behind you and looking down at the floor.

"No! What the fuck do you want me to do now? I already said I'm sorry! What do you fucking want now?!" it was his turn to yell now. The anger of expecting to come home to a warm bed and coming home to an angry wife was finally getting to him. "I come home absolutely exhausted and you still manage to keep me up and yelling, like I had the easiest day of my life! Stop being so selfish, for fuck's sake!"

You looked up at that and felt your eyes tearing up once again. You stood up straight and walked past him, towards the bedroom. You grabbed your pillow and a warm blanket. "What are you doing, Y/N? Jimin asked, and you wouldn't deny the tiredness was already showing in his voice. "Go to sleep, I'll stay on the couch."

"Stop, Y/N, please," he muttered and you turned to face him.

"Jimin, I don't want you to do anything. I get it, you were working and you're sorry. I know you're sorry. But my point is, how many times are you gonna keep saying sorry? Because I don't know for how much longer I'll be okay with being left behind for your career."

"What do you mean?"

"I mean that I don't know whether I can stay in this marriage if I keep being forgotten like this," you shrugged with teary eyes and watched Jimin tilting his head to the side while the anger in his eyes subsided. His eyes quickly got teary and he held up his hand to grab at your right arm, trying to prevent you from leaving the bedroom you two shared.

You shook your arm from his grip and turned your back on him, walking out of the bedroom and closing the door behind you.

And no, it wasn't okay with you to go to sleep angry at him. You weren't that type of couple. You worked things out before going to bed. But you knew how tired he was. He was supposed to wake up at 5:30 AM the morning after and you were supposed to wake up just an hour after him. You knew that if you kept fighting, neither of you would get any sleep. You and Jimin were two people with strong personalities and whenever you two fought over something it did not end up quickly. Besides that, you two had never fought like this. Had never had an argument that caused either of you to question the worth of your marriage. This was your rock bottom.

But you hated that you weren't sleeping in your bed, in your husband's arms. And it was impossible to fall asleep, no matter how careful you and Jimin had been to choose the most comfortable couch in the store when you bought your house. No matter the position or how many times you turned - you couldn't fall asleep.

It was 4 AM when you heard footsteps coming down the stairs.

You felt Jimin coming closer to your frame on the couch and kneeling down next to it. "You're sleeping?" he whispered and you mumbled a tiny 'no'.

"Can I sleep in here?" he asked and you made space on the couch for him to slip under the blanket with you, which he did quickly. He enveloped your waist in his strong arms and buried his face in the crook of your neck as if nothing had just happened. "Please, don't leave me," he whispered against the skin of your neck. You stayed quiet, just taking your hands to envelope his neck and pull him closer. "I don't think I can make it without you. I've been awake the past hour trying to find a way to stay less time at work and more time with you, but I can't find one. I don't think there's any way to solve this."

It was completely dark in the living room, and that just made this feel much more intimate than it was supposed to. "But I love you," he whispered again. "I love you too," you answered and felt a light kiss on your neck.

"I'm sorry for not being able to give you the life you deserve. I promise you that one day all this activity in my career will calm down and I'll be able to give you everything you deserve, but for now I can't fix anything we're going through. But we can fight for this, okay? We can keep up with my schedule and with yours. We can keep coming home to a warm bed. We can keep building a future for us both and for our future family. We can keep fighting every time there's something wrong, without really getting to solve anything. If you're up for it, I'll gladly stay up until 4 AM, if it means we can be alright in the end. But please, don't leave me. I love you. I've never loved anyone as much as I love you. And you're not behind my career. You're always at the top of my mind, but work is work. And when I'm working with the boys I can't just bail on them and let them work alone. I really hope you understand that."

And by now, you were already washed in tears. Jimin could feel your wet tears on his neck. "I'm sorry, baby," you cried and Jimin lifted his face from your neck, to look you in the eyes. Even with the almost absolute darkness of the room, he could still figure out your beautiful features.

"You have nothing to be sorry about. I understand why you'd be mad at me-"

"No, I'm sorry, I should have been more understanding, or at least wait until you were well-rested. I'm sorry for making you fight with me for like half an hour. And I'm sorry for trying to slap you, I don't know what that was..."

"I love you. I don't care how bad we fight, I still love you. I always will," he whispered as his face got closer to yours. You could feel his light breath on your lips. "And I was being a jerk when that happened so you're fine."

"I love you too," you answered as you let out a soft giggle, to which Jimin smiled. You raised your head from the pillow, to softly press your lips against Jimin's to seal your reconciliation. His pillowy lips moved softly against yours, as he put one hand on the back of your head, to deepen the kiss. You heard him moaning against your lips as his other hands moved from your waist to your ass. "You should get some rest babe," you said, pulling away from him.

"No, let me make you feel good," he whimpered as his lips were redirected at your neck, sucking your skin and leaving love bites on his way, as his hands moved towards the hem of his your t-shirt, taking it off in a heartbeat and throwing it to the floor, next to the sofa.

You moaned as he pressed his thigh to the middle of your legs, urging him to go faster. His t-shirt and sweatpants quickly joined your oversized t-shirt on the floor, and soon he was panting against you as you raised your hips to create some friction between your crotches.

Jimin reached down, palming your still-covered pussy, with his whole palm. "How are you so wet?" he asked as you moaned and slightly trusted your hips up against his hand. "How are you so hard?" you asked back, teasing him as his hard length pressed against your thigh. You heard Jimin chuckle and felt him pushing your panties to the side, and running two of his fingers through your slit.

"You have such a smart mouth don't you?" he asked ironically, shoving his, now, soaked fingers inside your mouth. Your lips, quickly wrapped around his long fingers, sucking on them. He reached down with his other hand, to plunge two fingers inside your pussy. You moaned against his hand, which he quickly retracted from your mouth, just to press his lips against yours once again. He started fingering you, making scissor motions inside of you to try and prepare you for him. "How are you always so tight?" he groaned after you pulled away from the kiss to let out a series of moans from how good his fingers felt inside of you.

"After you not fucking me for so long, I'd be surprised if I wasn't," you teased once again, chuckling and Jimin rolled his eyes in annoyance.

"You're so annoying, baby," he answered, starting to finger you faster as you threw your head back on the couch, giving him enough space to suck the skin of your neck as if he hadn't marked you enough earlier. "Do you think you're ready for me?"

"Yes, baby, please. I want you inside me, please," you mewled and Jimin moaned hearing your cries of pleasure so close to his ear, after so long.

And in a second he roughly shoved his entire length inside of you, as you both let out loud groans of pleasure. Having Jimin inside you never failed to blow your mind. Everything from his length to his girth felt overwhelming. And you loved it. Sex with Jimin felt better than with any other man you had been with before - firstly because Jimin knew what he was doing, and second because you had never been in love with someone as much as you are with Jimin.

Patience had never been your forte, and it showed when Jimin decided to stay still to let you get used to him, but you rose your hips urging him to keep going. It did burn but you liked the slight pain of having Jimin inside you. So he kept going, first slowly, but he quickly grew as impatient as you and started to pick up his pace. Until his hips were crashing against yours, with one of his hands grabbing your waist to stabilize you two. One of his forearms was supporting Jimin's body, next to your head. You reached forward to press your lips to Jimin's in a heated kiss. You two moaned and growled against each other lips, as your hips started to thrust upwards against Jimin's and soon enough you were both in a frenzy on the couch.

Jimin moved one of his hands from your waist to your cheek, softly caressing it. “Baby, are you close?” he moaned loudly. “Hum? I can’t last much longer- Ah… Baby, you feel so good around me.”

“I’m so close baby, just keep going. Please, just a little more… Please,” you moaned and Jimin stopped his movements for a couple seconds after hearing you pleading for him. He knew that he was way too close and you weren’t helping. You begging for him had always been one of his biggest weaknesses.

“Anything for you,” and just like that, his hops were back at it, full speed and thrusting with a strength you hadn’t felt before.

Jimin's and your loud moans were a clear indication of how close you both were. And when you enveloped both your arms around Jimin's thick neck and he thrust himself inside you one last time, before falling on top of you, you came together. Your insides milked him as he kept thrusting his hips softly against yours.

"I love you," you heard him sigh, breathless, against your neck.

"I love yo-"

Beep. Beep. Beep.

5:30 AM. It was Jimin's time to get up and you looked at him as he reached for his phone, on top of the coffee table. "That's my cue," he chuckled, still breathless. And you looked at him in pity.

"You didn't even get to sleep, baby."

"You gave me enough oxytocin to last the whole day. Also, it's not the first time I stay up the whole night. You try to get some sleep, you still have some time," he whispered, still trying to leave your warm embrace.

"Can't you ask the boys to meet up like an hour later or so?" you asked, tightening your arms around his neck, so he wouldn't be able to leave.

"No... Hoseok would kill me," Jimin answered, smiling at your attempt to keep him close.

"If you faint, I will kill you."

"If I faint, I will blame it on you, you sex-starved woman! Always tiring me out!" he laughed against your neck and you slapped his strong shoulder. He raised his head, pressing a soft and long kiss against your lips. "I'll go get ready. Bye baby, see you tonight."

You didn't answer, just resting your head on the soft pillow, already starting to drift off to sleep, just before hearing Jimin scream from the main door.

"Be ready at 8:30! And think where you want to go get dinner."

Jimin wasn't home at 8:30 that night.

He arrived at 10:25 PM, but as you looked into his tired and apologetic eyes, when he stepped inside your house, with flowers in one hand and a bag of KFC takeaway in the other, you knew that no matter how many times Jimin said 'i'm sorry', he'd always mean it. And that was what truly mattered because for as long as he meant it, you knew he loved you. And you loved him.

[purpleyoonn]

Doughnuts and Shell Casings

one shot series // part 1 of ?

summary: you finally gather the courage to leave your routine and do something different. your expectations are blown out of the water as you meet your soulmates in a less-than-expected way. 

genre: soulmate au, bts au, mafia au, poly au, 

pairing: mafia bts x innocent reader

warnings: robberies/break-ins, attempted kidnapping, murder, reader witnesses a murder, bruises, mafia bangtan, weapon use, very touchy bangtan, blood, 

permanent taglist: @m1sss1mp​ @yourleftsock​ @skyys-universe​ @cryingpages​ @strxwbloody​  @drissteele​ @dustyinkpages​ @iamkookiesforyou​ @crushedblackroses​ @fluffy-canada-pancakes​ @blaaiissee​  @iiitsmaria​  @carolinexkpop​  @azazel-nyx​ @strawberry-moonpies​ @g-h-o-s-t-b-a-b-i​ @knjkitten​ @kleirielk​ @foreverweareyoung7​ @lachimolala22019​ @namuficxs​ @94z-93​ @kimgmzmc​ @thenaverse​ @dahliasbouqet​ @black-rose-29​ @tinyoonsblog​ @take-u-2-an0ther-w0r1d​ @stellauniverse​ @stupendouscookiehumanmug​ @tinyoonsblog​ @veronawrites​ @tatyhend​

masterlist // one-shot masterlist

-----------------------------------------------

Mornings were always the best for you. You loved getting things done and then having the rest of the day to relax or do whatever your heart desired. It was probably one of the reasons you loved working at a café, that and the free coffee and pastries.

Doughnut was the name of the café, named after the owner’s famous doughnuts she handmakes every morning before opening. Nayeon and Jihyo owned the café and were also some of your closest friends. You had gone to school with them, and the rest of their soulgroup.

There were nine people total within their soulgroup, and you were happy that they were able to complete their soulgroup so early in life. Most people don’t find their soulmates until their twenties, others were lucky enough to grow up with theirs.

Unfortunately for you, you had yet to meet any of the people whose name’s live on your wrist. There were seven names, and you had yet to even hear of them in your twenty-five years. It had you losing hope, but you had faith that you would meet them soon.

“Good morning, Kitty!” Nayeon yelled out to you as soon as you walked in through the back door. She had been calling you that since you were six, since the day you walked into first grade with your favorite stuffed animal: a black cat plushie.

“Good morning, Bunnie!” You yelled back, seeing her working on getting the fresh batch of pastries and sweets out on the shelf. It was your turn to bake the cookies, hence why you were at the café at 4:30 in the morning.

You set out to make coffees first, two for you for Nayeon and one for Sana who would be coming in at five. Once you handed Nayeon her coffee, and after hearing her mumble her thanks, you set out to get the cookie dough you had let freeze over night for easier handling. You spent all day yesterday working on making cookie dough. You made chocolate chip, peanut butter, and sugar cookie dough.

Your sugar cookies were a huge selling point, besides the doughnuts. You spent hours before opening individualizing each cookie, making different characters and designs. You loved seeing the faces of the little kids who come into the shop and pick out one of your cookies. It was a fun hobby for you and you loved the payoff of the business you receive from them.

Once you had a couple batches in the oven to bake and the time set, you moved back to the front to help Sana, who had just arrived, clean and set up the café. It was a smaller café, only around eight or nine small tables and twice as many chairs, but it was your friend groups pride and joy. All ten of you worked there, varying shifts and times.

You, Nayeon, and Jihyo worked the most shifts, as this was your baby. The others all had their own things going on, but never failed to take on one or two shifts a week at the café. It led to many fun times, and lots of happy memories that littered the walls in the form of polaroids.

“Okay my friends, we open in thirty minutes. Let’s have another good day and make even more friends!” Nayeon shouted out, getting your attention as she stood with her hands in the air.

When it was time to open, you already had a couple of customers waiting outside, two of your regulars who had been coming in every morning since you opened three years ago. You actually already had their order ready for them at the counter, two hot chocolates with caramel and two of Nayeon’s chocolate glazed doughnuts.

“Thanks again, deary.” The wife, Mrs. Chang, smiled up at you as you rang in their total. Mr. and Mrs. Chang were two of the sweetest people you had ever met.

“It’s no problem Mrs. Chang. You know we love seeing you both every morning.” You smile back at her, meaning every word. You loved seeing your regulars and learning how their day has been.

“Have you heard about the robberies going on?” Mr. Chang speaks up, a hint of worry in his tone as he looks to the side and out the window. Your eyebrows furrow in confusion as you take in his words.

“No, Mr. Chang. We haven’t heard anything.” You hand him the change as he motions for his wife to grab their usual table.

“There has been a couple robberies over the past week, most of them taking place downtown in the shopping district but we still worry about you all.” He places a hand on top of your own that rest on the counter.

“Thank you for that, Mr. Chang. I will talk to Nayeon and Jihyo and see if we can’t figure out some more safety measures.” You try to smile reassuringly at the older gentleman, not quite sure what you could do, but it seems to work as he smiles back and nods his head.

“Good. I wouldn’t want anything to happen to our favorite girls.” He grabs his hot chocolate and goes to sit down.

His words had you kind of worried, wondering if at some point the robberies would make their way to where you were located. You hoped that the college district was far enough away that you were safe. You looked over to the measly double lock that the front door had and moved to turn to Sana.

“We need to figure out our budget and see what kind of safety measures we can add to the building.” Sana quirks her head at you, questioning your statement. You lead her to the back where Nayeon was and explain to them what Mr. Chang said.

They were also a little worried, Nayeon telling you both she would talk to Jihyo and look at the budget to see what you all could do. That was all you could really do for the moment without looking at the numbers so with that you all went back to work.

It was a normal day, the flow ebbing off around eleven but returning around one when classes let out for the science building at the local university. That meant rush hour for your café as the crowds of students came for caffeine refuels or sweets to tide them over.

This meant that it was time for Dahyun, Momo and Jeongyeon’s shift. They would be taking over for you and Sana as it was Nayeon’s day to run the shop. You both were going to meet Chaeyoung for lunch as she had a free period before her next class.

“Bye Bunnie! By Hyunie! By Yeongie! By Momo!” You and Sana both shouted out in unison, your normal departure ritual, each earning bye’s in return as the door closed behind you.

The two of you walked the couple blocks it would take to get to the restaurant.

“You know, you should get out more, like take up a yoga or painting class or something.” Sana was nonchalant as she suggested. The soulgroup had been trying to get you out of your hole for years. They thought you spent too much time in the shop or at home.

“You don’t need to worry about me. Getting out isn’t really my…thing.” You shrugged in response. It was true, you were completely content with just relaxing at home or being at the café. You weren’t the person to party or drink. It just wasn’t something you enjoyed.

“It’s just, the more places you go to, or things you do, the more likely it is you’ll meet your soulmates.” She explains with a saddened tone. They all hated watching you retreat into your shell. They knew that you thought it was too late for you to meet your soulmates and noticed how you stared at your soulmark when you thought no one was looking.

They just wanted you to be happy.

“That’s why I’m doing what I’m comfortable with. I’m going with you and Chaeyoungie to lunch and we’ll be there to hang out.” You appreciate their love and friendship, but you aren’t comfortable with putting yourself out there, even if it is to find your soulmates.

“And I’m happy you are going!” Sana squeals as she wraps her arms around your shoulders. “You never go to lunch with us!” She wasn’t wrong. It had been a long time since you had gone to lunch with one of your friends. You usually brought lunch with you and ate it in the back or went home to eat.

Within another five minutes you had made it to the restaurant, seeing Chaeyoung wave at you from her window seat. It seemed she made it early to grab you guys a table.

You smiled wide as you saw your younger friend. You both shared the same birthday; you only being born a year before. You bonded quickly over that, dubbing yourself the ‘birthday twins” after meeting.

“Youngie!!”

“Y/n-ie!” You both run to her, almost crashing into each other as you wrap your arms around your friend. You hadn’t seen her for a week, you both being busy with work and school.

When you let go, Sana was already at the table looking at the menu. Chaeyoung drags you over and has you sit next to her as she goes to hand you a menu as well.

“Okay so I already got our drinks. They should be coming soon.” Chaeyoung broke the silence from you looking at the menu. You hadn’t been to this restaurant before, but you know the girls frequented it a lot.

“So, what have you been up to Youngie?” You turn to her and ask.

“I’ve been finishing up my sculpture! It is almost done and I think I only need one or two more sessions before I can start glazing it.” Chaeyoung is in the middle of getting her art degree and is taking a ceramics class for the first time.

She was nervous when she first started, so you were happy to see her getting excited about it now that a couple months have passed. She was also in a photography course, which you knew she was even more excited for.

“What is your sculpture going to be?” You ask as your drinks arrive.

“She won’t tell us. She says it’s supposed to be a surprise.” Sana states, narrowing her eyes at her younger mate, a teasing glint in her voice. Chaeyoung begins to blush at her mate’s tone, rolling her eyes dramatically to deflect.

“Because it is. I wouldn’t have to keep it a secret if someone didn’t break my last sculpture on accident.” Chaeyoung accuses, looking directly at Sana as she spoke.

“Hey! It wasn’t my fault that Jihyo accidentally knocked into the vase!”

“Yes it was! If you weren’t trying to bite her shoulder then she wouldn’t have fallen into my vase!” You looked back and forth between the two, excitedly watching the drama unfold as the two continued on.

However, despite the growing entertainment, your stomach was rumbling with hunger and you needed to get food into your system or you were going to cry. You look around for your waiter only to notice something sticking out the back of a man’s jacket. It was black and shiny and had your nerves standing on end.

You looked up to see if you could recognize the man only for him to already be looking at you, a smirk resting on his lips as he winks at you. Your eyes widen as he moves to place his finger on his lips, a “be quiet” gesture.

You quickly turn to Sana and Chaeyoung who were still arguing over whose fault the broken vase was.

“We need to leave. Now.” Your quiet voice and urgent tone as their own figures freezing, turning to look at you to see you visibly shaken.

“What’s going on Y/n?” Sana asks you, leaning in closer to you over the table. You open your mouth to respond only for a scream of terror to cut you off.

You move to yank your friends under the table with you, hearing the words “freeze” and “get down” yelled all throughout the restaurant. Once you know that your friends are okay, huddled together under the table, you risk your courage and move slowly to peer out from under your cover.

There were three men standing up, guns in hand and aimed at who appears to be the owner of the restaurant. You can hear your ears ringing as you watch the scene play out in front of you.

“We told you. Boss gave you three weeks to give him the money back you owe him.” The one in front spoke, his voice slightly pitchy but nonetheless attractive as he spoke up, tone cold as he cocks his gun at the trembling man.

“I—I’m sorry Sirs! I’ll get you the money. I swear!” The man cries out, only for a gun shot to ring out.

One of the employees was trying to crawl past the men, passed you and to the door. You couldn’t look away as the man tried to crawl to you, hand grabbing onto your forearm where your marks were.

“help plea…” Another shot rang out as the man fell to the ground. You gasped, moving your hand to cover your mouth as you looked to your other, blood now smeared across your soulmarks as his hand continued to clutch onto you.

You could feel the tears falling down your cheeks as you look at the man, the life gone from his eyes as they now stare, unblinkingly at you. You could vaguely hear Chaeyoung and Sana calling your name, can feel the tugging on your shit stop once the footsteps start.

One of the men was now kneeling down in front of you, yanking the man’s arm off of you and grabbing you to stand up. He had a grin on his face, barely concealed by his lips moving.

“Poor baby. Let’s just clean that up.” He pulls you in the direction of the other men, both wearing their own smiles as they watch their partner drag you.

He pulls you and makes you stand in front of the owner, still crying as the guns aimed at him never faulted. He steadies you upright, hands on your shoulders as he make you face the owner.

“Can our sweetheart here clean up in the back? She’s got a little something on her arm.” Both you and the owner glance down at your arm, the reminder of red making more tears pool in your eyes. The man looks at you with a worried look, “sorry” written all over his features as he points to the back.

“Speak up!” One of the men behind you speaks, tone sharp as the owner jumps in his boots.

“You can go through there. The sink is to the right.”  He cries out, fists clenched to his sides as the man walks you forward past the counter where the man was standing. You can see his hand moving out, only for it to snap back to his side.

“Don’t touch her!” The same man shouts, a slight growl to his tone this time, like he was speaking through anger.

The one in the middle, the main leader it seemed, still hasn’t spoken. He just stares hard at the owner, almost begging him to move and give him the chance to shoot. It was unnerving as you had a full view of his face as you tried to scrub the blood off your forearm.

The man who grabbed you still stood behind you, flush against your back with his hands on your shoulders. You had no clue what he was doing or looking at, but you had to bite your lip to hold back your sobs.

“Do you need some help there, baby?” His voice was right next to your ear, causing you to flinch a little. The man just chuckled before reaching for your arm. You knew you couldn’t say no, couldn’t deny him when they had guns aimed at everyone.

You let him move you around so he could face you. While he was scrubbing at your mark, you took the time to study his appearance. He wore a long black coat that seemed designer from how nice the material looked. He was wearing jeans and some nice boots. His face though, was otherworldly.

He was beautiful. Ethereal even. His features were sharp, as if sculpted by the gods. He had a mole on his nose and if you looked closely enough, you could see one under his eye. He seemed to be smiling as he cleaned your arm, paying closer attention to one of the names on your mark, rubbing it with his thumb.

Once the blood was cleaned up, he held your hand in his and stood back up. You watched him nod to his partners who then got busy. Within seconds the owner was shot, and two of the employees who were there were in similar states, screams of terror and panic sounding from the eating area.

The man holding your hand had moved you passed the owner, making you step over him instead of moving around. You noticed Chaeyoung and Sana watching you with tear marks stained to their faces. You wanted to move to them, reassure them you were okay, but you didn’t know if that was true.

“Hello darling. Sorry about the mess.” The man who shot the owner was now smiling down at you, his smirk turning to a smile as he moves his hand to cup your cheek.

Jimin almost coos at you as he watches you shake. You didn’t even realize who they were. You were probably too focused on your fear to feel the tingles running up your spine at their hands touching you.

You can’t even speak you were petrified. Jimin knew you wouldn’t be like that for much longer, not when they brought you back. But it had to wait for now. There were too many witnesses and Namjoon would kill him if they harmed you in any way.

“Don’t worry, everything will be okay.” He squeezed your cheek in his grip before reluctantly pulling away.

“Are these your friends?” Your heart skipped as he gestured to Sana and Chaeyoung who were frozen, watching the scene in front of them. You nodded your head only for the tallest man to chuckle.

“Use your words, darling.” You couldn’t tell if the shiver you felt was from fear or something entirely different but nodded again.

“Yes sir. They are my friends.” You managed to whisper after trying to clear your throat.

“Good girl.” The leader spoke in your ear before turning back to your friends, motioning for them to stand up. They both slowly stood up, limbs locked from fear as they clung to each other.

“Now, why don’t you make sure our darling here gets home safe. We don’t want any more blood on her hands.” The men laugh at the joke, but the humor doesn’t reach you nor does it reach any other person in the building. You can still see one or two more customers hiding behind tables, watching everything unfold.

You don’t know why you were singled out, nor why the men smiled at you the way they did, but you figured they were just sick, finding everything funny as if they didn’t just shoot four people dead.

Jimin let everyone go free, knowing they couldn’t identify them even if they tried. No one would believe them anyways. They had the cameras shut down over an hour before they even arrived, Yoongi doing his job and more as he is probably already uncovering everything about you.

The three of them watch you walk out, shaking as you cling to your friends.

“She’ll be clinging to us soon enough.” Jungkook wraps an arm around Jimin’s waist, knowing exactly what his older mate was thinking. Taehyung nods his head in agreement.

“She had her eyes practically glued to me the entire time I was holding her. She even started to relax in my hold, not that she noticed.” Jimin quirked his eyebrow, smiling as he opened the door to the car.

“Such a sweet little thing. I know Jin is going to love her.” They all laugh, knowing just how much Jin is going to love their innocent soulmate.

“Probably won’t let her leave. He’ll keep her with him the first couple months maybe, spoil her rotten.” Jungkook quips back, a knowing glint to his eyes as he remembers his own first couple of months with his soul group.

“Oh, like you weren’t sucking his dick two months in!” Taehyung exclaimed, his head hitting the passenger side window as Jimin takes a sharp turn. Jungkook just shrugs his shoulders.

“Yeah, so. What’s your point?” Rolling his eyes, Jimin just reaches for his phone, hitting the first speed dial.

“Hey baby, we’ve found her.”

-*-*-

“Someone get her blanket for her!” You were pushed onto your sofa as Jihyo yelled out, motioning for your favorite blanket. It was a light blue, worn down from use but still felt as soft as the day you got it. You had brought it with you through three different moves and almost losing it to your grandmother’s dog a couple years back.

It was your comfort item and if there was ever a time where you needed it, it would be now.

Chaeyoung managed to text the group chat a SOS message, letting them know what happened. And while they were all worried for everyone, Sana made sure to let them know exactly what happened when you got to your apartment and everyone was waiting for you.

“Here you go, Bunnie.” Nayeon handed you your blanket before taking her seat next to you, wrapping an arm around your shoulders and almost bringing you into her lap. They were all scared and worried for you.

“Why you? Out of everyone in the restaurant? Why you?” Jeongyeon asked the most obvious question, something the others didn’t really want to think about.

“It was weird. Once the man started crawling to her, I noticed the robbers get really angry, like visibly shaking before one of them shot the man.” Chaeyoung spoke up from her place on Mina’s lap. Her voice quiet as she goes through her memory of the events.

“And then one of them walked up to her, pulled her up and helped her clean her arm of the uh, of the blood.” Sana choked out, adding onto what Chaeyoung was saying.

“Did they say anything to you Y/n?” Momo asked, leaning on her knees as she moves so she can look directly at you.

“They just…kept trying to take care of me, calling me pet names and asking if I was okay.” You were unsure of everything that happened. You felt like your brain was making things up, trying to twist the events so you weren’t traumatized. You almost felt like you were lying to yourself.

However, one thing stuck in your head, no matter how many times you tried to forget about it.

“When the man helped me clean my arm, he kept rubbing at my soulmark.” Your words stump the others, shock moving through your friends as you stare at the pillow on your lap. No one knew what to say or think.

“He was probably just shocked by the number of names on your mark. You know it’s not really common to have a huge soulgroup like we do.” Nayeon reassured you. She knew exactly where your mind was going.

You were wondering if these men were your soulmates. No one besides regulars at work have ever been that caring and nice upon meeting you, especially when they were robbing the establishment where you were eating.

“Yeah, let’s not worry about it. They probably just saw an opportunity to make someone uncomfortable and took it.” Dahyun agreed with Nayeon, but her reassurance was light, as if she wasn’t really sure she believed her own words.

“How about this, let’s just order some pizza and watch movies. A girls night, like when we were younger. It’ll get your mind off of everything.” Tzuyu’s quiet voice spoke up in the silence, watching all of her unnies stew in their worry. She knew there was nothing they could do for now, so they needed a distraction.

“That’s sounds great baby! I’ll order our usual.” Jihyo gets up from her spot and moves to grab her phone while Dahyun and Jeongyeon crawl form their positions on your floor to your bookshelf, all of your movies lined up on the black piece of furniture.

Part 2

[capybaracorn]

‘Mama we’re dying’: Only able to hear her kids in Gaza in their final days

Hanan and Mazen were stuck in the West Bank. Their kids were in Gaza, where they were killed by Israeli bombs.

Hann and Mazen at Fadi's bedside [Mosab Shawer/Al Jazeera]

(April 16th 2024)

Bethlehem, occupied West Bank – Hanan al-Qeeq sits next to a hospital bed in Beit Jala Hospital, her sad, pale face seconds away from tears at all times, even when she tries to muster up a smile of greeting.

Sitting beside the exhausted woman is her husband, Mazen, 56, a Gaza Ministry of Education employee who left his work to come to the occupied West Bank, where their son Fadi is being treated.

Fifty-year-old Hanan says she carries a heavy burden. As she and Mazen kept their vigil by Fadi’s bedside, praying for his healing, Israel’s war on Gaza took four of their other children from them.

“What can I say beyond what happened?” said Mazen, who did not want to, or perhaps could not, speak more.

The couple had seven children.

Four daughters: Iman, 31, who is married and lives in Canada, Malaka, 24, Nuran, 23, and Tala, 15.

Three sons: Fayez, 33, who is married and lives in the United States, Fadi, 30, and Muhammad Awad, 17.

Now they have three children: Fadi, Fayez, and Iman.

Because Malaka, Nuran, Muhammad Awad and Tala had to stay behind when Hanan and Mazen left Gaza for Fadi’s medical care and they were killed when Israel bombed the shelter they were hiding in.

Remembrance of those lost

Hanan scrolls through photos of her children on her phone, something she does with a sad familiarity as she talks about them.

Hanan shows a photo of Nuran on her phone [Mosab Shawer/Al Jazeera]

“Malaka was sweet and generous, always ready to help out. Nuran loved everyone, loved life, and was loved in return, especially by her fiance in Morocco … they were going to get married after Eid al-Adha.”

As for Tala, their mother said, “I likened her to the Virgin Mary, so calm and soft, a real princess. And Muhammad Awad, he worked so hard. He had a note up by his desk reminding himself: ‘I want to get 97 percent in the high school exams so my dad is happy and I can study engineering overseas.’”

Their bustling, content family life came to a screeching halt last April when Fadi plunged five storeys while at work plastering the exterior of a building. He became quadriplegic.

Mazen initially accompanied Fadi to Haifa for treatment. He has since been moved from hospital to hospital.

It took months before Hanan was able to join them; by then the treatment was taking place at Tel Aviv’s Reuth Hospital. Hanan was meant to stay with Fadi while Mazen returned to Gaza, but she was worried about Fadi and intimidated by dealing with the Israeli hospital system, so she asked him to stay.

Little did she know, she said, that by asking him to stay, she would save his life.

The war begins

When Israel’s war on Gaza began in October, the distraught parents were still trying to find the treatment Fadi needed. He had been transferred from Haifa to Tel HaShomer Hospital in Tel Aviv, where he received some surgeries, but they were thrown out because they could not afford to complete the treatment there.

Hanan spoke to her children as often as she could, listening to them as they trembled on the phone in fear, and listening to their screams whenever a projectile landed nearby.

“They would cry on the phone: ‘Mama, we’re dying,’” she said.

“I would try to reassure them to tell that it would be over in a few days, like the wars before it did. ‘No harm or danger will befall you,’ I told them,” she said, scrubbing tears away from her eyes.

A week after the war started, Hanan’s fear for her children grew and she emailed her sisters to ask them to take care of them, writing: “My daughters’ lives are in your hands. Take care of them.”

Her older sister, who goes by Umm Fadi, sent a car to take the children from Remal in north Gaza to her house in Tal al-Hawa in the southwest.

Hanan wheels Fadi into his hospital room [Mosab Shawer/Al Jazeera]

By then, Hanan’s appeals to Palestinian officials and the community were working and she managed to get the Palestinian Authority to take on Fadi’s treatment expenses and got him admitted to a hospital in Bethlehem by October 20.

The children stayed at their aunt’s house for nearly a month, till the Israeli army stormed the neighbourhood and they fled to az-Zawayda with everyone who was in the house: their aunt, her sons with their wives, her daughters with their husbands, and all their children.

On December 13, Fadi underwent surgery at the Istishari Hospital in Ramallah before being transferred to Beit Jala Hospital in Bethlehem, where he is still being treated.

Throughout, Hanan and Mazen were sleeping in hospital wards and eating whatever the hospital gave them until the people of Bethlehem learned of their plight.

A community member gave them a furnished house, the couple recounted, and told them that the house was theirs for the duration of Fadi’s treatment. “We found safety among our people,” Hanan said.

While Hanan in Bethlehem worried about her children left behind in Gaza, they worried about their parents and asked about their brother Fadi’s health every time they spoke.

Hanan’s sister and the 29 people she was with – including Hanan’s children – were heading back to her home in Tal al-Hawa after hearing the Israeli army had withdrawn. So extensive was the damage they left behind that the group had a hard time finding their way back to the house, the children told her on the phone.

Hanan holds up a photo of Fadi before his accident to compare with how he looks now [Mosab Shawer/Al Jazeera]

Just weeks later, the Israeli army pounced again, sending the family fleeing to Jalaa, then Remal, and back to Jalaa, where they ended up sheltering with 200 people in a school building. But the group continued to move from place to place as they sought safety, until one day Hanan heard that 16 relatives had been killed in an Israeli attack in Jalaa.

Hanan hung on to the other end of the phone, sick with worry. She nearly lost her mind when the children’s phones were off, but she heard from her niece Sahar that all was well and eventually the surviving family was able to leave once again to Tal al-Hawa.

“Imagine what it was like,” Hanan said, scrolling sadly through the photos, “to have Malaka tell me: ‘Mama, we will be martyred. Don’t cry if that happens. I would rather that than us be paralysed or lose our limbs.’”

Then she lost touch with them for days, maybe a week. Hanan lost count as she desperately tried to get through to anyone who might know what was happening. On the last night of her search, she did not sleep, up all night sending message after message to Malaka.

Hanan and Mazen had reached out to the ICRC and the Palestine Red Crescent Society, begging them to go to the house and check on the children. But Hanan did not realise that they had an answer until she walked into Fadi’s hospital room one day and saw a group of doctors and staff waiting for her.

One of the women in the group started gently asking her questions, but something told her there was another reason for their presence.

“I asked: ‘Have you received anything? My children, has something happened to them? Were they martyred?’

“I saw tears in their eyes, and one of them answered, she was wearing a Red Crescent uniform: ‘I would have loved to tell you that they weren’t martyred, but this is God’s will.’

The emergency services had finally gotten to the house on December 21, 2023, to find that everyone there had been killed about three days prior.

“I stood there in the middle of the room, begging them: ‘OK, tell me, who was martyred? Who’s still alive? Malaka? Tutu [Tala]? Muhammad?’

“She replied that everyone had been martyred, that they had been found under the rubble.

“I started screaming, just screaming, until I collapsed in their midst.”

Hanan had been working on getting the family out of Gaza before Fadi’s accident. Painstakingly, she got the children’s passports and was waiting for the war to stop so they could travel, but it was all in vain now.

“My children … my children! They were waiting for their brother Fadi to recover and for us to return,” she wept.

Now, she does not want to return to Gaza at all.

“No, I have neither people nor stones left there. The house has collapsed and my children have been martyred. To whom will I return?

“Everyone has gone and my children [and] my sister have been martyred, so many of my relatives.”

[thisisthinprivilege]

My experience with the thin privilege roller coaster

I've struggled with my weight since I was about thirteen years old. I'm now twenty-five, and I have been on both sides of the spectrum. I've experienced both thin privilege and fat discrimination. At my heaviest I wore a size 16-18 and weighed about 200 pounds at 5' 6" tall. I realize that isn't incredibly heavy and I still had more privilege than many people, but I was still what many people consider "fat." I couldn't shop at the same stores as my friends. American Eagle jeans? Out of the question. Better go to Old Navy and check out their "vanity sized" clothing. I could have shopped in "plus sized" sections, or even stores, but I was too embarrassed. I couldn't bring myself to even look at them.

I couldn't get a date to save my life, despite the fact that, over the years, there were several people I was interested in. But they always went for the thinner girls. I remember my dad telling me, "You know, you'd be really pretty if you'd just lose weight. I bet you'd get a boyfriend then."

When I was about twenty, something in my life changed. I transferred schools and was incredibly busy with my homework while also working 25-30 hours a week. I didn't have time for snacks and honestly, I didn't even think about eating most of the time. I was quite unhealthy, often only taking in about 800 calories a day. This continued for months until I weighed 145 pounds. 

And suddenly I was in a completely different world. People held doors open for me. They smiled. If I wore a skirt or shorts, I'd hear crude comments from men, and even the occasional cat call (this is not a good thing and I would never, EVER advocate men treating women like this; I'm simply commenting on the fact that it happened.) My size 8 jeans fit perfectly. I was far more outgoing and confident. I started going on dates and making friends with people who I thought wouldn't have even given my 200 pound self the time of day. I went to the beach for the first time in years. In all honesty... I was happy.

How sad is that? How pathetic is it that losing 55 pounds - in a very unhealthy way - just makes the world open up to you? Instead of people whispering about my weight, they were whispering to ME about OTHER PEOPLE'S weight. And the most sickening part of it all? I laughed along with them. I was happy to finally be included. 

Be it karma, a change in my schedule, or just settling back into old habits, I gained most of my weight back a few years later. Suddenly doors started closing on me. There were less smiles and more shoulder bumps from people who either didn't care or didn't notice me. Men stopped asking me out, and I was even turned down for a teaching job in Japan because of my weight.

Very few "overweight" people are able to say they wouldn't be happier if they were thinner. I'm not saying this to advocate thinspo - quite the opposite, actually. It's the fact that we live in a world that tells us thin people are harder working, more attractive, more intelligent... I'm sure I could expand this list for paragraphs. In many cases, thin people are more likely to be happy because doors (both literally and figuratively) open up for you when you're thin. My self-esteem plummeted when I gained back weight. It wasn't because I was a different person. I didn't magically become lazy or ugly or unintelligent. But the world believed I was, and so I believed I was.

I did lose weight again because I decided to take up running. BOOM - the privilege was back. But this time I aware of it. I remembered that fat me and thin me were the same person. Thin me is not smarter. Thin me is not more charming. The only difference between thin me and fat me is that, in the past, thin me could be incredibly cruel. But thin me will never discriminate against someone for being overweight again, because pounds mean nothing. They do not change who a person is, only the way the world perceives them. 

Although I have learned a lot from gaining and losing weight several times, I wish that this experience had taught me to be immune to wanting thin privilege. I wish that I could eat a bacon cheeseburger and not feel regret for days afterward. I gained some weight back over the winter because I stopped running, and now that the weather's broken all I can think about is wanting that thin privilege back. I keep telling myself "you need to lose ten pounds if you want to wear shorts this summer."

If you're considered "overweight" and you're comfortable wearing shorts, I think you're an absolutely amazing person for saying "screw you" to a world that tells you you shouldn't wear shorts. Because you should wear whatever you want to wear, and don't let anyone else tell you otherwise.

For me, personally, I need to feel thin to allow myself to wear shorts. I care so much about what other people think, and I hate that about myself. So what do I do? I cut calories and push myself too hard at the gym. All because I want more thin privilege than I currently have. Because I want that single digit jeans size back. Because I like when people hold doors open for me, strike up conversations with me, and invite me to parties. How sad is it that to feel like a proper human being I have to feel thin?

[anticomedygarden]

you're a sad sight honey but you look so cute

On the way back from the marching band's biggest performance of the year, Nico's bus breaks down. With none of his friends with him, he's completely alone, but when the chaperone puts the two section leaders in charge, he's forced to cooperate with Will Solace, his polar opposite and maybe sort of long time crush.

What could go wrong?

also on ao3

sorry it's been so long. i've been working on this long ass bastard for like a month. there will be two more chapters after this, and they're mostly done this time! everyone should be so proud.

if you can, i would recommend reading this one on ao3 because the first chapter is over 11,000 words.

minor tw for implied death of siblings and parents.

title from billy joel's 'i don't want to be alone anymore'

-

Five minutes since

Cold.

That was all Nico felt as he and everybody around him watched smoky tendrils wind their way up from the hood of the big yellow school bus, dancing playfully as if they weren't a message from God that Nico should have stayed in bed this morning and avoided this day from hell entirely.

He had been up since 3:30 a.m. His band grade could've taken the hit.

After the last kid stumbled out of the bus, uniform bag in hand, the bus driver climbed down and said, "We've got an engine problem."

Nico resisted the urge to spit back, "You don't say?", and instead turned to Mrs. Knowles, some freshman's mom and one of the newest members of the band's parent board. She had been appointed chaperone of the juniors for today's trip to New Rome University, and Nico had to say, she was not doing well.

"Um..." she started, sensing the eyes of three dozen 16-17 year olds. Her breath streamed out in white trails. "I'm gonna call the directors. If anyone here is a section leader, you're in charge."

Nico groaned internally and tried to avoid the eyes of the only other junior section leader as well as those of the rest of the teens present. Why, why, did he have to apply for low brass section leader last year?

Oh. He really shouldn't be asking himself that question, not when he already knew the answer.

But he put that thought away because a golden blond head was walking toward him across the stupid highway rest stop they were currently trapped in. Will Solace, the flute section leader and Nico's unfortunate partner for the time being.

If he made it out of this day with his sanity intact, it would be a miracle.

2 years before

Nico walked into the band room of Olympus High School for the first time with a bit of anticipation, some excitement, and a shit ton of dread. So far, his first impression of his new school hadn't been flattering, and his hopes for the next four years tanked with each step he took toward the band room.

If the rest of the school looked like ass, there was no way the band had any decent funding.

"Here's the music hallway," Percy said as they turned down the last hallway in the bottom floor of the school. "If you ever have a choir class, there's the classroom." He pointed to another door to the right. "There's the tuba/sousaphone closet. It looks like that because it used to be a boys' bathroom."

That explained the shitty tile and yellowing sink. At least Nico could say with confidence that he would never have to go in there. He still made note of it, though, since he may actually be staying at this school for a while.

"That's the color guard closet, but they haven't been able to use it this season because someone left cheese in there last season and, long story short, it got flooded."

Nico wasn't quite sure how old cheese led to an entire room being flooded, but if anyone could manage it, it was Percy. Especially in marching band.

"Was Thalia the one who left the cheese in there?" Nico asked, recalling that his oldest cousin of their group did color guard in outdoor season.

Percy's lips quirked. "No comment."

Finally, they got to the end of the white painted hallway and turned into the double doors of the band room, and Nico was immediately hit with the vivid sounds, smells, and sights of a high school marching band. He really should have expected this, but it was 7:45 in the morning and Percy had just taken him on a complete tour of the school. It wasn't exactly in the forefront of his mind.

They had come in on the side of the set up, behind the third trumpets and next to the smaller instruments' cubby. Horrid blue carpet squished under his feet, and the red painted brick walls were a true affront to his tired eyes. Dozens, probably more than a hundred, people packed into the large room, all talking, setting up instruments for practice, and milling around. As a freshman, Nico wasn't entirely used to marching band and all its attributes yet, but the month at his old school had at least helped him prepare a little.

Next was the smell. Sweat was his first impression, but spit from the brass instruments ingrained in the carpet certainly made itself known, and that wasn't even just from marching band. Rocking his trombone case back and forth, he supposed he would be contributing to that smell soon enough.

Probably the biggest assault to his senses was the noise. Everywhere, someone was testing out their instruments, tuning, practicing, or just generally goofing around. Percussionists were going through cadences, flutes were tuning against clarinets (one of the worst sounds in the world in his opinion), and he thought he heard a trumpet playing Baby Shark.

It was warm, too, with so many people blowing hot air. He could practically taste the humidity.

Someone blew a particularly shrill note, drawing his attention to the flute section. He paused. The offending member was a piccolo player, blond and blue eyed. Gorgeous.

The boy's startled eyes caught Nico's, and he looked away, a blush rising to his cheeks. "Who is that?" he asked Percy.

The taller boy didn't stop twirling his drumsticks. "Will Solace. He just started learning picc." He glanced down at Nico. "Will's a freshman, just like you, but I think he's been at Olympus for a few years. Why?"

Nico was spared answering by Percy's girlfriend, Annabeth, who was also their drum major. She stepped up onto a chair and blew her whistle, causing all noise to stop. "Everybody on the field!"

There was a mad scramble as the band rushed out the back doors, and Nico lost sight of the blond boy which was probably for the best. He couldn't, wouldn't, get attached.

He took a deep breath and tried to cast the beautiful boy from his mind and focus on his trombone.

He really had missed this.

15 minutes since

"When are they coming back to get us?" some short little guy who Nico thought might be a trumpet player asked in a whiny voice.

Frankly, Nico'd had enough socializing for one day and was ready to tell the kid to fuck off, but Will just calmly said, "We don't know yet, Hayden. You should probably find somewhere to sit and settle in. We could be here for a while."

Hayden rolled his eyes but turned around, presumably to find his friends. Nico hoped someone else had the kid's uniform bag because that would not be cheap to replace.

Next to him, Will had his own uniform bag by the hanger slung over a shoulder, and the shoes kept bouncing against the backs of his knees every time he moved, making an annoying thud noise. Nico's was in a pool at their feet.

When it became apparent that Hayden was the last kid in line to bug them, Will glanced down and said, "Your uniform's gonna get wrinkled."

Nico quickly rifled through every interaction he'd ever had with the flutist to try and figure out why he thought Nico would care about his band uniform getting wrinkled and came up with nothing.

At this point, he really didn't feel like talking, though, but Will was still looking at him expectantly, so he mumbled out an, "It's fine."

Will shrugged. "Suit yourself." Then, he turned around and walked around the bus to where Mrs. Knowles had gone. Reluctantly, Nico picked up his bag and followed him with the thought that two people were better than 34.

"Mrs. Knowles, any word on-oh." Will stopped in his tracks, nearly causing Nico to run into him in the shade of the bus. A second later, he looked up and saw why.

Mrs. Knowles was not on the phone with either band director like she'd promised but was instead holding up a lit cigarette to her mouth, and the two burnt out orange rolls at her feet told him this wasn't her first. The brunette turned around and squawked, dropping the cigarette.

"Oh, hey, I didn't hear you come around," she said with false nonchalance as she frantically stamped it out.

Fortunately, it seemed Will had decided he would be doing all the talking between the two of them. "We were just wondering if you'd heard anything about the bus? Some people are getting antsy."

And they'd only be getting worse as they realized their bus had broken down an hour into the three hour trip back to Olympus, which meant that no matter if administration called to say they had a bus ready to come get them right fucking now, it would be at least two hours until it got to them and four hours until they got home.

Nico just wanted to go home.

He shivered, and it wasn't just because of the cold. As soon as Will finished asking about the bus, Mrs. Knowles got an unpleasant look on her face. "I called Mr. D-"

"Big mistake," Nico muttered.

"-and he was no help, so I called Chiron, and he said he'd talk to transportation about getting another bus sent out. That was twenty minutes ago." Her brown hair escaping its pink claw clip swirled about her face in the cold October wind.

"Wonderful," Nico muttered.

"Did he give you any sort of timeline?" Will asked.

She winced. "No, sorry boys. You should probably go get comfy. We're gonna be here a while."

Nico did not miss the irony.

13 months before

It hadn't really sunk in yet for Nico, that this was Percy, Annabeth, and Grover's last NRU homecoming parade. Really, he had stopped thinking about anything at all except for his burning arms and legs about four blocks ago. Even the music managed to escape his mind.

But, as the band performed their nine millionth rendition of "How Far I'll Go" and Nico began to think his mouthpiece had frozen to his face, the realization trickled in. The next time he marched in these streets, three of his (only) friends would be watching from the sidelines.

The thought chilled him, more so than the cold wind that bit through his bright orange and purple uniform, cutting off feeling to his already numb fingers.

Suddenly, one of his section mates cut through his spiral. "Guide!"

He glanced down as surreptitiously as he could while holding a long metal tube up to his face to see that he was a step behind the rest of his line. He scrambled to catch up, wishing Chiron and Mr. D hadn't put him in the front row or that trombones didn't make up the first two rows of parade block.

Finally, they finished the song, and everybody brought their instruments down to attention. He took a deep breath.

Somebody in a row behind him (specific, he knew) started doing the steps chant. Left. Left. Left, right, left. He made sure his feet were in line.

They turned another corner, and he caught a whiff of pizza. Jupiter's, the most popular pizza place in the too large college town. That meant they were about three-quarters of the way through. He wondered idly how much time he'd be spending there in the next few years as Hazel dragged them to visit Percy, Annabeth, Grover and eventually Jason, Piper, Leo, and Frank, knowing he would never voluntarily go himself.

They were leaving him. He didn't see why he should have to go out of his way to see them.

The drumline slipped into another cadence, one of the more fun ones. With Percy in complete control and coasting through his final NRU parade, they hadn't done any of the boring ones yet, so kudos to that, though he was sure the freshman snares didn't feel the same.

Unfortunately, with every step, Nico's annoyance grew. The fun, upbeat cadences only served as a reminder that whoever took over as percussion section leader next year wouldn't be Percy, and in less than two years, he'd be left alone, again. (Sure, he'd have Hazel, but she was a year below him and had already made so many new friends that she clearly didn't need him the way he so desperately needed her.) By his senior year, he'd be left with nothing but holes in the spaces his cousins and the people that came with them used to occupy, vacancies unfillable by Nico's social skills alone.

At one time in his life, Nico had welcomed the emptiness because it meant he didn't have to face the biggest void of them all. But now? Well, now it was feeling more and more like the people that forced their way into his life with hammers and claws were the only thing keeping him from escaping back into that cavernous abyss, and for the first time in his life he craved that companionship like a starving man, because the eyes blinking back at him from the void were brown.

So when the parade was over, and everybody celebrated their new first place trophy, Nico didn't care that Percy and Annabeth lost themselves in each other, or that Hazel seemed to forget about him after going off with her friends, or that he had to say goodbye to Jason and get on the sophomore bus, and he definitely didn't care when pretty boy Will Solace and his friends celebrated the whole way home, filling the bus with their laughter and camaraderie.

He just sat alone on his bench seat and stared out the window until he eventually fell into a mercilessly dreamless sleep.

18 minutes since

Before Will could offer some falsely cheery placation that would make Nico nauseated, he turned and stomped back out to the other side of the bus.

Great, just great. Of course this would happen today, of all days, when he was exhausted, and already upset and wrung out.

Not watching where he was going, he tripped on a parking spot bar and ended up stumbling into the grass on the far side of the rest stop, somehow managing to find the only not yet overrun by teenagers in his dazed state.

"Hey, hey," someone said behind him, and he violently shrugged off the hand they settled on his shoulder. "Hey, it's me. It's Will."

As if that was supposed to make him feel better.

"What the hell do you want?" he asked, uncaring how harsh it sounded.

The blond held up his hands in a 'don't kill me gesture.' "Just wanted to make sure that you're alright. You seemed pretty upset."

God, we're all blonds this mother hen-y? If he pulled out a bag of granola bars, Nico would have to start calling him Jason.

"Well, I'm fine, so you can go back to your friends." He looked down at the yellowing grass.

"You are so clearly not fine," Will said firmly. "Besides, none of my friends are here."

Nico looked up in surprise. He could've sworn he'd seen Will hanging out with a baritone and a clarinet player.

He didn't say anything, though, and Will took that as a signal to continue. "Lou Ellen slept through her alarm, and Cecil got excused for a broken arm.

"You only have two friends?" His eyes widened as he realized how bad that sounded. "That came out wrong."

Thankfully, Will chuckled. "It's fine, I knew what you meant. Yeah, I guess so. They're my only two really good friends, if you don't count my siblings."

Nico didn't know he had any siblings. He filed that away for later. "I actually meant that I thought I'd seen you hanging out with more people."

Will shrugged. "I'm pretty friendly with everybody."

Right. Because Nico wasn't, and Will was just being a nice guy.

He turned away. "Well, you can go be friendly with somebody else now. Goodbye."

Once again, Will caught his shoulder, and Nico looked up. To his surprise, Will was blushing. "I, uh. I don't really want to be friendly with anybody else."

Nico wasn't quite sure what to do with that.

1 year before

"Speech! Speech! Speech!" the whole band chanted as Annabeth tried her best to shush them. They were on the track behind the Olympus football team getting ready to march halftime for homecoming, and per tradition, it was time for senior speeches.

AKA, the performance that most of the band was about to march through tears.

Clarisse stepped up first, or more accurately, into the middle of the circle. Her speech was short and sweet but somehow still inspiring. Katie Gardener went next, and then immediately after her was her boyfriend, Travis Stoll. Nico didn't think his speech was particularly sad, but his brother Connor was bawling by the end of it. Next to him, Jason was openly weeping.

Then, Grover went. Nico had never been particularly close with the clarinet player, but he was Percy's best friend, so they'd been in the general proximity of each other enough times that Nico was relatively comfortable around him. It still wasn't enough to make him cry at his speech.

It was clearly enough for Annabeth, though, as her face was swimming in tears when she stumbled into the middle of the circle, mace clutched in her white-gloved hand. "Grover, I'm not gonna be able to get through this now." She swiped a hand under her eyes.

"You got this, babe!" Percy said from the other side of the circle. Even from here, Nico could see the tear tracks from under his hat.

"God, Jackson," Annabeth mumbled. "Dammit. When Thalia did this last year, I really didn't think it would be so hard."

Of course not. Thalia made everything look both easy and painless, simultaneously the best and worst thing about her.

"Okay, here goes." She laughed. "I can't even begin to describe how much the band and all of you mean to me, and I can't imagine not being here next year, but I am so ready for it. The thought of not seeing the band room first thing in the morning every day scares me so much. It's kind of like an anchor even though it smells like sweat, and the walls look like someone rubbed rusty nails all over them; it's been a steady point, one that I don't want to give up yet, but..." She glanced over at Percy, a small smile shining through her tears. "I can't wait for our next adventure."

By the end of her speech, Percy was absolutely bawling, so Annabeth stepped to the side and hugged him, giving everyone else a welcome reprieve from the onslaught of emotion.

To his horror, Nico felt a lump forming in his throat. Why? He and Annabeth weren't even that close. He could make it through some silly little goodbye speeches.

Maddeningly, he tried and failed to swallow, each attempt seemingly bringing more tears to his eyes. This did not bode well for Percy's speech.

He really did not want to cry in front of all these people. He had a reputation, for fuck's sake.

Nico looked up and accidentally caught the teary eyes of Will Solace. The boy didn't look much better than Jason, but he somehow pulled it off. Nico tried to ignore the little flutter that sent to his stomach because just then, Percy stepped into the circle.

35 minutes since

Nico took a second to marvel at the situation he was currently in.

He was seated on a concrete parking bar at a highway restop somewhere in the state New York, and Will Solace was telling him a story about helping birth a goat at his grandparents' farm in Texas.

Now, Nico was and had always been an outdoorsy kid. Back in Italy, there was a small forest near where they lived, and he and his sister would go in there all the time to explore. He was never squeamish, either, constantly picking up frogs and lizards and bugs. At this point in his short life, he'd probably spent more time outside than inside.

But this was a bit much.

Then Will said the most horrifying sentence Nico had ever heard. "Do you wanna see pictures?"

He frantically shook his head. "No, I'm good."

Will had the nerve to laugh at him. "Of the goat, not the birth."

"Oh." Maybe he should've guessed that. "Sure."

That was how he ended up looking at pictures of a baby goat with Will Solace. He had to admit, it was pretty cute.

Will's phone buzzed with a text just then, and Nico couldn't stop himself from reading it before Will took the device away.  

Lou Ellen

just heard about the bus. so glad i slept in today

It sounded exactly like something a best friend would say, not that Nico would know because he'd been purposefully ignoring the buzzing coming from his pocket for the last half hour. It wasn't that he thought his friends would be mean or unsympathetic; quite the opposite, actually. He knew without checking his phone that Percy had already offered to come get him and that Jason was sending words of support along with the rest of his friends, but he just couldn't handle that right now, not after this morning. Besides, he was actually having fun with Will and didn't want to ruin that with emotions.

Speaking of Will, he still wasn't quite sure what was going on there. The way he'd said 'there isn't anyone else' made Nico seem like a last resort. It didn't exactly make him feel good, but the piccolo player was refusing to leave, so Nico was kind of stuck with him, figuratively and literally.

While Will was tapping out a response, the buzzing in Nico's pocket finally graduated to the ringing of a phone call. Several sets of eyes turned toward him.

He sighed and picked up his phone. "What do you want, Jackson?" He wasn't at all surprised that Percy was calling him, but he was a little surprised Jason hadn't gotten there first. Maybe Piper or Leo convinced him to wait. Whatever.

"Are you okay?" he asked. Then, almost as an afterthought, "You're not answering our texts."

Nico took a second to marvel at his friends' inability to take a hint. It did wonders for the feeling talking to Percy again was giving him. "I'm fine."

"Are you sure? I can come get you-"

"You're not driving six hours for me. I said I'm fine." He appreciated the thought, though he'd never say that out loud.

"I wouldn't mind. Or I can bring you back here and you can stay the night-"

"No, definitely don't do that." He raised his voice when he heard a girl laughing. "Annabeth, don't let him do that!"

There was shuffling on the other end. "I won't. But if you change your mind-"

"I won't, but thanks for the offer." It occurred to him then that even if Percy did come get him, he wouldn't be able to leave without a guardian's signature, and that sure as hell wasn't happening. "Tell Jason I'm fine, and he doesn't need to call me." If talking to Percy was hard, Jason would be impossible.

There were more ruffling sounds. "Why don't you just answer the group chat?"

Because he didn't want to open his messaging app and see the last text from Jason. Because he couldn't bear to see all the supportive words when everyone was leaving him. "You're breaking up."

"What? Nico-"

"Sorry, can't hear you." With that, he ended the call and put his phone on do not disturb.

6 months before

When Chiron made the announcement that morning about section leader applications, Nico hadn't really been listening. He'd seen no point; he was but a lowly sophomore, barely better than a freshman (that was a lie). He couldn't even keep himself in line, let alone an entire section. There was no way he'd be chosen even if he did apply.

But the more he thought about it throughout the day, the more it seemed like a good idea. The low brass sections weren't exactly known for their responsibility. Actually, he couldn't think of anyone in his section he'd want to lead him, even the current juniors. (Except Hazel, obviously.)

Then, Percy pulled him aside at the end of the day and said, "You should apply for section leader."

Slightly disoriented, Nico looked around the dingy old tuba closet. There were sousaphones and tubas hanging from big hooks embedded in the walls, and there were drains dotting the dilapidated green tile floor. So much for not spending any time in here. He looked back at Percy's green eyes. "Okay."

"You're smart, commandi-wait, did you say okay?" Percy looked genuinely confused at Nico's lack of resistance, and Nico tried to ignore what Percy calling him 'smart' did to his brain.

He shrugged. "Yeah. There's nobody else except Hazel I'd trust to do it, and we need two."

Percy sighed in relief. "Okay, cool." The percussionist looked around as if he wasn't sure what to do now. "I was expecting a lot more pushback. I even made a speech!" Before Nico could express how much he did not want to hear the speech, Percy continued, "I was gonna talk about how smart and commanding you are and how much you've grown in the last couple years."

The words made heat rise to Nico's cheeks, but it was quickly replaced with a cold, bitter feeling. Why was Percy telling him this now, when he was about to graduate and move three hours away? And he didn't want Percy of all people to tell him how much he'd grown. He didn't want anyone to tell him that, but from Percy, it felt like a double edged sword.

The older boy had been in Nico's life since he first emigrated from Italy, before his life had completely gone to shit. It wasn't a time he wanted to ever think about, but this conversation was doing a great job of reminding him.

He remembered being a relatively normal, happy kid when he first met Percy, and that kid idolized him, and that turned into an ill-advised crush. He couldn't stop, not even when his sister died, and he blamed Percy. He spent a long time in isolation, so long that he couldn't see it was self-inflicted. He became the creepy kid that no one wanted to hang out with. It took the combined efforts of Percy and Jason to realize that there were people in his life that didn't hate him no matter how much he pushed them away.

Now, he was terrified that they would take that progress with them when they left.

So he said, "Save it," and pushed past Percy back into the hallway, and when he picked up a section leader application, he told himself it was to make up for all the free time he would have when his friends graduated.

1 hour since

"Are you taking anatomy?" Will asked, a bit out of the blue. They'd been talking idly about the parade, mostly just discussing which freshmen threw up versus the ones they'd expected to. Apparently, none of the flutes got sick, but a bass drum player did, and a tenor sax player had to drop out from heat exhaustion. Surprisingly, the tenor sax was a senior.

"No," Nico said. "Why?" Anatomy was so ridiculously far from his interests that it was amazing he knew what the word meant.

"We have a test on Monday, and I need to study really bad," Will answered, eyeing Nico's body like it was a real life study guide, which, he supposed that in a way, it was.

He sighed, resigning himself to his fate. "Fine, but no touching." He'd learned early on in his friendships with Percy and Jason that setting up boundaries like that was important, and sometimes people weren't even offended by it.

Will's eyes lit up, and Nico barely concealed his grin. "Awesome! We're going over the skeletal system right now."

Okay, so apparently they were really doing this.

He turned to face Will. "How do you want me?"

"Lean down. I need to see your skull."

Nico pulled back. "Excuse me?"

Will was smirking. "I need to see your skull."

Never before had Nico been so self-conscious of an internal body structure. "Um, okay." He leaned down and vaguely felt Will look down at him.

"Frontal, temporals, occipital, parietals," he said, almost like a chant. "Zygomatics, mandible, maxillas, nasals. Then the palatial, ehtmoid, sthenoid, and vomer are in there somewhere."

"In there somewhere?" he said, alarmed. "Shouldn't you know where-"

"The clavicle is here-" Will pointed to the top of his shoulder, "-with the accromion side on the scapula and the sternal end by your neck. The scapula itself is right there, and it looks kinda like a fucked up wing. The humerus connects to the scapula at the glenoid fossa-"

And that's when Nico stopped listening. Who knew there were so many parts to the skeleton? Definitely not Nico, whose skeletal knowledge began and ended at 206 bones total. He didn't even know there were multiple bones in the skull.

Will pointed to his chest and said, "Ribs."

Nico frowned. "They're just called ribs?"

"Yeah," Will answered. "What did you think they were called?"

He shrugged. "I don't know. I thought they'd have a more science-y name. Like," he paused, "costole or something."

For some reason, that made Will blush. "Was that Italian?"

It dawned on Nico then that most people didn't know he was an Italian immigrant...and that he was definitely about to tell Will that he was an Italian immigrant. "Yeah, I, uh. I'm actually from Italy."

"Really?"

Nico nodded, already regretting his brief moment of honesty. "What bones are next?"

Taking the hint (thank god), Will started listing bones again, and Nico let his eyes wander.

It seemed that everybody had settled down by now, hanging out on their phones or just talking. A couple people were asleep, and there was even a group playing catch with somebody's hat. The junior color guard members were practicing with their equipment that couldn't fit in the instrument truck: tossing flags, spinning rifles, twirling batons. It was a wild sea of bright orange band t-shirts, and Nico kinda loved it, though he'd never admit that to anyone.

The orange band shirts were broken up by the purple and orange uniforms that a few shivering souls had donned in a futile attempt to stay warm. It wouldn't work; those ugly things didn't retain anything but sweat.

Under that, most everybody was wearing sweatpants or leggings with the unfortunate few stuck in jeans and even shorts. Rookie mistake. In cold weather, sweatpants and leggings were the only tolerable pants to wear under the marching band uniform, a lesson Nico learned the hard way while marching a football game in freshman year. The chafing, lack of mobility, and feeling of skin tight denim tucked into knee high, thick black socks was not worth the aesthetic. He himself was wearing black sweatpants, and Will was wearing dark gray joggers with - no way.

"Are you wearing flip flops?" The slim, navy blue shoes weren't doing anything to hide the other boy's surprisingly tan feet - he must wear them outside a lot, definitely enough to maintain the light brown color past summer.

Will glanced up from where he was studying the (apparently) multiple bones of the ankle. "They're comfortable," he said defensively.

Nico couldn't argue with that. His own three year old black Converse were ripping at the seams and covered in scribbles. At least his toes were covered, though. "Aren't your feet cold?"

Somehow, Will's cheeks turned even redder. "I don't really get cold."

"I-" he started. "How?" It probably said more about him than Will, but Nico regularly wore pants and hoodies in June. Even now, he was shivering slightly.

The red stopped spreading in Will's cheeks. "For starters, I'm not malnourished."

Nico's dropped. "I'm not malnourished!"

Infuriatingly, the blond gave Nico an appraising look. "Whatever you say."

Okay. Okay, so maybe he was a little skinny, and maybe most of his friends thought he had an eating disorder. But no matter how bad he seemed right now, he was doing better than he was 5 years ago, so Solace could fuck right off.

There was a little nagging voice in the back of his head saying, "He'll never know that if you don't tell him." It sounded like Jason. He ignored it.

Will got up and moved to Nico's side, clearly trying to change the subject. He pointed at the black-haired boy's spine. "Then the 7 cervical vertebrae with the atlas and axis on top, the 12 thoracic, 5 lumbar, and the sacrum ending in the coccyx. That's your back, and that's all the bones and bone parts I need to know."

Nico blinked. That did not seem like 206. "Okay." They just looked at each other, unsure what to do next.

Then, Nico remembered what Will said about his siblings and thought that maybe he could try some honesty, so he cleared his throat and attempted to fabricate some courage. "Hey, what you said earlier about your siblings being some of your best friends?" Will's eyebrows furrowed, obviously unsure where Nico was going with this. He plowed ahead anyway. "All of my friends are either my sister, my cousins, or  their partners, so I think you can count your siblings as your friends."

Will continued to look confused. Then, he smiled. "Thanks. That actually does make me feel less pathetic."

"No problem." If anyone could make others feel better about themselves by being an absolutely wet cat, it was Nico.

"Does that mean Percy and Jason are your cousins?" Will asked innocently.

Oh. Nico probably should've seen that coming. "Yeah."

"Cool," Will continued, completely unaware of the minefield he'd just stepped into. "It must've been really nice seeing Percy and Annabeth today, then."

"It was precious," he bit out. "Hey, why don't we go do our duties as section leaders and check on people?"

"You wanna go talk to people?" Will asked, disbelieving. Nico couldn't decide if it was more insulting that Will had already clocked his fierce antisocial nature, or that he was so easy to read that a boy he'd barely conversed with outside of the last hour could tell he was lying.

"Yep."

Will gave Nico side eye but rose. "Let's go."

2 months before

"Good morning," Chiron said to the obvious displeasure of the entire band room. It was exactly 8:03 a.m. on a Thursday in July, and everybody in the room had exactly two things in common: none of them wanted to be there, and all of them had better things to do.

Sleep, mostly, Nico thought as he yawned. When Hazel had burst into the room an hour ago and forced him to get up, he'd nearly thrown his phone at her. (And he definitely would have if he hadn't been trying to turn off his alarm without getting out from under the blanket.) He'd managed to rouse himself, though, and valiantly make it here on time. He really should get a medal for that.

"Welcome to marching band. I know most of you know me, but for anyone who might be new, my name is Chiron, and I'm your band director. Mr. D, the assistant director, is around here somewhere." Chiron looked around as if that would help him find Mr. D. "Well, I'm sure you'll see him sooner or later." Fat chance. "If you look on the folder that was on your seat when you came in, it should have your name, instrument, part, and a barcode. Inside the folder, there should be 13 half sheets of music and one warmup packet as well as a schedule and sets for the first song. If anything is missing, let your section leader know right after this."

Well, shit, he thought. That's me. No matter. He already knew nothing was missing because he and the other section leaders spent three hours the day before stuffing those bastards themselves.

"Speaking of section leaders," Chiron said, and Nico had barely enough time to think of a few choice words as he remembered what came next, "I think it's time to introduce them. Now, your section leaders are very important. If anything is wrong or you have a question or are confused about anything, you go to them first, then a drum major, then me or Mr. D." Slick bastard. It had never occurred to him how that system kept freshmen from ever talking to Mr. D. "Drum majors first. Reyna and Jason, please stand and tell everyone a little bit about yourselves."

On either side of Chiron, Reyna and Jason rose from their chairs, maces already in hand. Reyna went first. "Hi! I'm Reyna."

"Hi, Reyna," the band echoed in a poor imitation of an AA meeting, because some traditions just never died, no matter how insensitive and unfunny they got.

"I'm a senior, and this is my second year as drum major. I play French horn in indoor season, and I did color guard my first two years in marching band." She had a very serious look on her face, the one that would end up scaring most kids into never asking her anything. They were lucky this year to have Jason because the year before with Reyna and Annabeth? Everybody was constantly confused and had no idea what was going on.

Jason waved. "Hi, I'm Jason."

"Hi, Jason."

"I'm a senior, and this is my first year as drum major. I play trumpet in indoor season and was section leader for two years." He looked over at Chiron. "Am I supposed to say anything else?"

The older man shook his head. "No. Actually, everybody should say less. We want to get on the field before it's too hot or some sport steals it. Flutes, you go."

Piper stood from her door at the very front of the band. "Hi, I'm Piper."

"Hi, Piper."

"I'm a senior. I play a variety of instruments, and this is my third year as section leader."

She sat down, and Will Solace stood up, blond hair as shiny as ever. "I'm Will, flute and piccolo. I'm a junior, and this is my first year as section leader."

The introductions continued for a while, all some variation of that, and Nico tuned it out, instead focusing on controlling his pounding heart as it got closer and closer to his turn.

It wasn't that he was nervous or hated public speaking that much. He was just an introvert. Yeah, that was it.

Then it was Hazel's turn. "Hi, I'm Hazel!"

"Hi, Hazel."

"I'm a sophomore, and this is my first year as a low brass section leader." She sat down.

Groaning internally as his heart attempted to bust his rib cage and bounce out into his open trombone case at his feet, Nico rose. "I'm Nico-" if the band repeated his name back at him in a depressed monotone voice, he would actually vomit "-, I'm a junior, and this is my first year as low brass section leader." He sat back down gratefully, already considering the benefits of giving up his new role. A cursory glance around the room told him that Jason, Hazel, Reyna, and Piper were all giving him thumbs up. Kill him now.

Introductions continued, though without Nico's attention, and they finally got to warmups. That was four pages of basic exercises that they normally did on the field, but Chiron was giving the freshmen a little treat this morning.

Once they were done, Chiron told everyone to start making their way to the practice field, so Nico stood, stuffing his rolled up manila envelope in his back pocket. Somebody tapped him on the shoulder, and he turned to see a little girl (Wow, freshmen were small. Were they always that small?) (The answer was yes.) with chunky black cornrows pulled back into a ponytail (He felt like he should get points for recognizing cornrows and ponytails even if Hazel was the one who taught him what they looked like.) holding a trombone.

"Excuse me-" she paused, looking unsure, "-Mr. Nico, where is the practice field?"

He laughed internally at anyone calling him Mister, and heard from behind him Hazel giggle as well. Then, when he processed her question, he nearly said, "Just follow the rest of the band," but remembered at the last second that he was in charge of this girl and if she got lost, he would be liable, and instead said, "It's behind the high school." When she continued to look confused, he said, "You can follow me," and mentally resigned himself to this kid becoming his duckling for the day. "Oh, and you can just call me Nico."

She beamed, and her braids bounced. There was no way she was even five feet tall. "Thank you!" she said. "My name is Macy."

He nodded, and they walked out the side door of the band, down the history hallway stairs and out the back door which opened into the student parking lot. He could see Jason's red Jeep from here, the car he'd ridden to school in. Including himself, Jason was driving five people to school, Nico, Hazel, Piper, and Leo despite all but one of them being over 16. Nico could definitely acquire a car if he had his license, but he wasn't ready to learn how to drive, and Piper refused to ask her dad for anything, so she was saving up to buy a used one. Leo just couldn't afford one. If he ever got one, it would probably be one he built himself. As for Jason, his dad bought him one for his 16th birthday (a week late because the man was an absentee ass). Thus, the Jason mobile.

They followed the curve through the back lot and reached the stairs leading down to the field.

A word about the field. It was basically a soggy pit that flooded regularly from dew, surface runoff, and the creek at its back border. Because it was so wet, the yard lines were almost never marked down, which made sets fun. The only sport that was brave enough to use it was soccer, and that was only when the actual field was unavailable. Right now, at 8:30 a.m., Nico could already see dew drops glistening on the green grass. Fabulous.

They walked down the stairs behind some trumpets and set their instruments down on the padded section for the shot put practice thingy since the first day of band camp was purely for introducing the freshmen to marching band.

Macy looked at him again. "How do you mark time?"

Nico blinked, unsure where she had heard that phrase already. That was something they were supposed to learn in fundies with one of the drum majors, and he was perfectly fine with that. He didn't want to teach these kids anything more than he absolutely had to. Then he remembered the section leader meeting yesterday.

We all have some big shoes to fill, Reyna had said, looking mainly at Jason and Leo, a certain blonde and black-haired pairs' successors.

Annabeth and Percy, Percy and Annabeth. Always those two. Even after they'd graduated, he couldn't go 10 minutes without hearing them mentioned. They were practically legends at this point. Everybody knew them, but nobody could be them. Fuck that.

He'd fill the damn shoes, alright. For himself and the band, he'd try. But he couldn't do it like them. He'd do it his own way.

Macy was still looking at him expectantly when he turned back around, and he stepped forward to the front of his section. "Okay, low brass freshmen, look up here 'cause I'm not doing this again." When all the low brass that he was pretty sure were freshmen were looking at him, he set his feet in position and said, "This is how you mark time."

2.5 hours since

They only ended up checking in with about half the juniors before sitting back down in their parking spot since they couldn't get past the color guard without getting hit with something. The people they did talk to seemed to be fine, though, so they didn't feel too bad about it, and Mrs. Knowles announced that a bus was on its way, fortunately. It was also around this time that some parents started arriving to take their kids home because they were just too impatient to wait apparently.

As they sat down, Will's stomach grumbled, and Nico realized he was pretty hungry, too. "I'm starving," Will said. "Think they'd order us some food?"

Nico raised an eyebrow. "You mean the same organization that has to reuse tape?"

Will snorted. "Yeah, I guess not."

Suddenly, Nico had an idea. "What's your McDonald's order?"

"What? Why?"

Nico already had his phone in his hand and the GrubHub app open. "I'm gonna order McDonald's." The band may not have been able to send food to them, but there was nothing stopping them from ordering stuff.

The blond boy must have seen Nico open GrubHub because he didn't ask how he was gonna get the food to them. "You're really gonna pay for McDonald's to be delivered to the middle of nowhere?"

"Hell, no," Nico said as he inputted his Happy Meal order. "My dad is."

"And he's ok with that?"

"Yep." Nico's dad was attempting to make up for 13 years of absentee parenting by giving his remaining two children free range of his credit cards. "Order whatever you want."

Will still looked unsure. "That's so unhealthy."

Nico did finally look up at that. "You some kinda health nut?" With his cut features and lean muscles, it wouldn't really surprise Nico if Will did turn out to be into those meticulous health plans, but he really hoped he wasn't.

Will hesitated, then shrugged. "I'll take a ten piece chicken McNugget and a Diet Coke."

Nico nodded. "You're getting an Oreo McFlurry, too."

"If you insist."

Nico looked around to find the rest stop number and highway sign, then hit submit. "Our order will be here in 17 minutes."

Well. He supposed it was called fast food for a reason.

Just as he was wondering what they were supposed to do for the next 17 minutes, Will asked, "Do you wanna play my piccolo?" Then, probably upon seeing Nico's face, said, "That's not a euphemism. It's in my uniform bag."

Nico just nodded.

"Cool." Then, Nico got to watch Will put his piccolo together (all two parts). His own trombone was probably back in the band room after taking the storage truck home. Lucky bastard.

Will handed Nico the delicate instrument. "Here, you hold it like this." He rearranged Nico's fingers so that they were positioned correctly, left hand in front and right hand in back. "Now hold down your left index finger and right pinky." Nico did as he was told. "Try and blow into the mouthpiece."

The mouthpiece on a piccolo was far different from the mouthpiece on a trombone. For starters, on the piccolo, you don't put your mouth directly on the embouchure hole, which is exactly what Nico did, and the sound he produced consequently was more of a breathy exhale than anything else.

"Blow over it, not right into it," Will said, already laughing.

Nico glared at him but tried again. Apparently, when one played piccolo, one also had to be careful not to blow too hard because that produced a squeak akin to Annabeth when she saw a spider.

Several heads turned in their direction, and Nico was brutally reminded of the first time he'd ever seen Will. He's been learning piccolo then, too, and had made roughly the sound Nico just did.

"Gently," Will said, still laughing. Nico did his best to follow Will's instructions, and when he blew this time, nothing happened at all.

"You're such a brass player," Will critiqued, eyes full of mirth. "You're trying to buzz. Just blow gently."

Frustrated, Nico thrust the small instrument back at Will. "Show me, then, if you're so good at it."

Will smirked. "I will." As soon as he put the metal tube up to his embouchure, Nico knew he'd lost the argument in more ways than one.

Slim fingers danced over the keys, producing a beautiful stream of trills, grace notes, and crescendos, and decrescendos that he recognized as "Killer Queen", and his lips-

Well. Best not to think about those.

As he played, Nico realized that he vaguely remembered from two years ago, someone said that some flute was the first freshmen at Olympus in 5 years to make state. At the time, he hadn't cared one bit, still overwhelmed by switching schools and the permanent move into his dad's house, but he wondered now if that flute player was Will.

When the song ended, he set the piccolo down, and Nico almost asked him to play another one.

Instead, he said, "Damn, Solace," and got to watch Will's ears turn red. "There's no way I'm trying again after that."

Will disassembled the piccolo and put it back into the case, zipping it into his uniform bag with his shoes and gloves. "Everybody's gotta start somewhere."

Not after that, I don't, Nico thought. "I'll just stick to the trombone." Shockingly, failing to play the piccolo did not dishearten him in the slightest. Then, he did something very uncharacteristic of himself. He voluntarily continued the conversation. "Are you really into music?"

If Hazel were there she probably would have chided him on asking a judgy sounding question, but to Nico it was relevant. In his experience, there were three types of band kids: those who were only in it for the credits, those who were in it for the atmosphere, and those who actually cared about music. Nico tended to bounce between the last two categories depending on the day (and the music) as did most people. He'd always assumed Will was the same.

But the blond was shaking his head. "Not really, no. I mostly just do it because of my parents. They're both really into music." Then, quieter, "I wanna be a doctor."

Nico frowned, wondering why it sounded like he was telling Nico some big secret. "Do they not approve of doctors?"

Will laughed. "Oh, no, they'd actually love that idea. I just haven't told them yet because they'd get insane about it."

Nico supposed that made sense, but he also had no idea what he wanted to do with his life and was relatively new to having a living parent that cared, so he just said, "Good luck in med school."

"Thanks." Will was quiet for a moment. "Do you have any idea what you want to do?"

Nico could have laughed at how perfectly timed that question was. "No."

Will shrugged. "Well, we're only juniors."

He tried, he really did, but he couldn't just not respond to that. "You sound like every other person who's ever asked me that."

"What else am I supposed to say?" he asked incredulously, waving a hand around. "It's true!"

Nico was saved from responding by their food arriving. He tapped Will on the ankle. "Get up. We gotta get our food before someone else tries to take it."

Turning to look at the highway, Will began to rise, and all the eyes in the parking lot that were latched onto the GrubHub sign suddenly turned to them. The jealous face nearest to them asked, "Is that for you?"

Nico smirked. "Yep." Then, he walked away, toward the entrance to the rest stop. Luckily, their bus was the only vehicle parked here, so their delivery person was able to park right at the front, keeping them from the majority of the other students. Even so, a brown haired girl wearing jean shorts under her band t-shirt (how?) walked over with a red haired boy in black leggings.

The car window rolled open, revealing short blue hair and a pale, round face. "Happy Meal and 10-piece for Nico?"

He stepped forward. "That's me."

Rather than hand him the bag, the delivery person flicked their eyes between the four teens. "I'm gonna have to see some ID."

"Seriously?" Nico said. "No one else is pretending to be me."

"C'mon, man. I don't wanna drive back out here if you're not the right person."

"Fine," he grumbled, pulling his wallet out of his pocket. "Here."

The driver glanced at his license, then shrugged. "Alright. Here you go." They handed over the takeout bag, and Nico gave them a five.

Before they could roll up the window, the brunette leaned on the driver's door and said, "I'll Venmo you 65 bucks to take us home right now."

"No." They started rolling up the window.

"Wait! That's 5 more dollars than you'll make driving around for minimum wage!"

Shockingly, they pulled out of the parking lot anyway.

13 hours before

"Who's the best band?" Jason and Reyna yelled at the top of their lungs, lifting their newest first place trophy above their heads.

"OLYMPUS!" 150 people shrieked back, and for that moment, Nico forgot that this was his last year with most of his friends. Everyone was hyped up on their win and the energy from a college homecoming that nothing else seemed to matter or even exist. For that moment, it was just them and the trophy.

Then, Chiron broke into the middle of the circle and clapped his hands. "Alright, everybody, the buses are here! Time to go home."

All too soon, everything else trickled in, and Nico remembered where they were. The NRU campus was crawling with people from various high schools across the state, NRU students, people living in the surrounding city that wanted to be part of something, and alumni, and Percy and Annabeth had barely been able to spare two minutes to talk to them. He could not think about that for a little while longer, though, just like he could ignore the creeping dread of going home alone.

After packing his trombone into the cargo truck, he filed onto the junior bus, definitely not feeling anything when all of his friends went onto the senior and sophomore buses.

4 hours since

Back in their parking spot (and what a wild focal point for this wild day, huh?), Nico and Will had a pretty impressive spread going. McFlurries to dip their fries in, many and multiple kinds of sauces, two Diet Cokes, Will's nuggets, Nico's burger, and Nico's new Mythomagic hellhound figurine? The looks they were getting from the remaining students were full of jealousy, Nico could tell.

"Thanks for this," Will said through a mouthful of french fry.

Nico waved him away. "It's no problem, seriously. My dad technically bought all of it."

Will's brow furrowed. "What does he do that he doesn't care if you spend-" he paused, counting. "-$20 on some of the most unhealthy food in the world?"

Nico shoved a French fry in his mouth. "He owns a chain of funeral homes."

Will's eyes widened. "Really?"

Nico nodded. "Yeah, Elysium Funeral Homes. You'd be surprised how much money there is in that business."

"How much money do y'all have?" Will asked, sounding skeptical. Nico looked forward to blowing his mind.

"He's a multimillionaire."

"What?"

Nico just nodded, enjoying the astonishment on Will's face. "Told you."

"You really expect me to believe your dad is that rich just from owning some funeral homes?" The other boy would have been more convincing if his voice wasn't wavering.

Messing with Will was fun, but Nico figured he should let him go now. "I'm sure the $500 million inheritance from my grandparents helped."

Will gasped, making Nico laugh, and the blond threw a fry at him. "You couldn't have said that from the start?"

Still laughing, Nico shook his head. "You should have seen your face."

"Jerk," Will said, though he was smiling. "What the hell did your grandparents do?"

"Oh, you know," Nico waved his hand vaguely. "Stuff."

"You have no idea, do you?"

"No clue," Nico admitted. "They died before I was born and nobody ever explained it to me."

"Really? Does Hazel or one of your cousins know?"

Nico shook his head. "I doubt it. They died when Thalia was a year old." And none of us have any discernible relationship with our fathers, he didn't say, so it's not like we can ask them. "All I know is that they were filthy rich, and somehow, my dad got the smallest cut."

"Smallest cut?"

"Yep." If he thought $500 million was a lot of money, Nico couldn't wait to tell him how much Uncle Zeus was worth. Before Will could ask about his mom, he said, "What about your parents? You said they're into music, right?"

"Yeah," Will said. "My mom's a country singer. You actually may have heard of her, Naomi Solace, from Texas."

Country was definitely not his genre, so Nico just nodded, pretending to know who Will was talking about. He'd google her later.

"Then my dad, Apollo, made a bunch of money off ad jingles 17 years ago, the two of them met, made me, and she's on tour somewhere in Nebraska, and he's somewhere in Western Africa working with Doctors Without Borders."

"Oh," Nico blinked. He hadn't known...any of that. Had he really been going through that this whole time? He said the only thing he could think of: "That sucks."

Will laughed humorlessly. "I guess. Dad's a bit of a slut, though, so I've got a bunch of siblings. I'm not lonely."

Nico stared. "Good, that makes me feel so much better."

Will just shrugged.

Gradually, a fragment of a memory tickled the back of Nico's mind, and he tried to shut it down before it fully formed. Despite his efforts, he remembered hearing his dad talk about a memorial for a teenager that passed through his company a few years ago, before he was permanently living with Hades. The kid was 16, the same age as Nico was now. Nico didn't remember a lot about him, but he did remember the dad's name, Apollo with no last name, because it was so weird, and that he had a ton of half-siblings. His dad had been stressed about it since the father was semi-famous.

Now, Nico wasn't sure what to do. It was so awkward knowing something about someone else that they hadn't told you, especially something so deep and personal. He wasn't sure how to proceed. Did he say something? Try to offer comfort?

Unsure, Nico took a second to study Will. It had happened years ago, before they'd ever met, so it wasn't like Will would expect him to know anything or treat him differently. Besides, if Will were still grieving, surely he wouldn't be so well adjusted?

No, that wasn't the right word. He wouldn't be so laid-back. Nico certainly wasn't.

Hold on. For better or worse, this was actually a topic Nico knew about, a situation he'd actually been in multiple times. With that thought in mind, he tried to think about what he'd want if their roles were reversed.

Yeah, he definitely would not want it to be mentioned. He wouldn't want to forget about her or pretend she never existed, but with some guy he'd only been talking to for a few hours that doesn't even know about her? He'd definitely rather stay away from the topic.

But, he had been so much younger when she died and so dependent on her. Nico had no idea what Will's situation had been. Were he and his brother even close? He mentioned that he had a lot of siblings and that he was close to some of them. Was Michael one? How did one even ask that? "Hey, were you your brother close before died? Also, I know you have a dead brother." Yeah, no.

Finally, he settled on an option that would reveal neither of their dead siblings but might still be considered socially on topic. "Hey, I get it. I didn't even meet my dad until I was 10."

Will glanced over at him. "Wait, for real?"

"Yeah, it was after-" he paused. How to explain this without talking about Bianca and ruining the pleasant atmosphere they'd created by pitching himself into a depressive spiral? Then again, if he opened up about her, that could incite Will to talk about Michael, and then Nico could pretend he was just finding out.

Okay, so maybe not the best idea. He restarted. "Something happened, and he ended up with full custody of me. Instead of caring, he stuck me in various boarding schools until he found out about Hazel. Now, I see him at least once a week." That was the nice version of events, the one that didn't make him want to deconstruct his own skeleton and burn it.

Will hesitates, then opened his mouth, and Nico silently prayed he wasn't about to offer an empty apology or a hollow assurance. "That sucks," he said.

Nico snorted in surprise at hearing his own words. "Yeah, it does."

They sat in silence for a moment, processing. This was probably the closest Nico had come to talking about or even mentioning his sister in years without having a meltdown afterward. He wasn't sure how to feel about that.

Instead of dealing with it, he gathered their McDonald's trash and stood. "I'm gonna throw this stuff away. Watch my uniform please."

Will gave a thumbs up, and Nico walked towards the big brick restroom where the trash cans were.

On the way there, he contemplated what it might be like to finally talk about - his breath caught - Bianca. Beyond that, he thought about telling Will about her. He'd avoided the topic of family for so long that it had begun to feel less real and more of a concept that didn't apply to him. His cousins and Hazel were his best friends more than they were family. His dad was more of a guardian than a father. There was no one else, and none of the people close to him ever tried to bring up Bianca unless they were trying to get him to talk about feelings which never went well for any party involved.

So was he really considering doing it himself? After the last few hours, he supposed it wasn't impossible. He'd already told Will more about his home life than he'd ever told another person. Besides, wasn't everybody always telling him that sharing his feelings would be good for him? Sure, he was a little jittery, a little nauseated, but he was also lighter, like just sharing the little bit he did and receiving validation instead of pity released some of the pressure that had been stuck in him for six years. How much lighter would he feel if he released it all?

The thought scared him. He'd lived with it for this long; who was he without it?

Nico reached the trash cans and threw the McDonald's bag in then went to wash the grease off his hands. While there, he decided to go to the bathroom since the bus would be there soon.

Locking himself into a stall, he heard two sets of footsteps enter and loud laughter.

"Yeah, I saw it," one of them said. "Freaky if you ask me."

"I know," said the other one. "That guy's so weird. I never understood why Percy hung out with him."

Nico's blood ran cold.

"Beats me," the first one said. "I heard Octavian bet Solace his spot as section leader that he couldn't get di Angelo to talk to him."

"Damn, that's so bad."

"I know, right? I can't believe it worked."

The two kept talking until they left the bathroom, but Nico's ears were ringing.

After all this time, he was really still just the creepy kid who no one wanted to talk to, living in Percy's shadow. Worse, everything Will said had been a joke. A tactic to keep his spot.

Nico wheezed, pulling on the collar of his shirt. He fumbled with the stall door lock and stumbled over to a sink, trying to breathe.

A deep voice cut through his daze. "Jesus, what did you get from McDonald's?"

He looked over to the boy at the sink next to him. It was just some random kid, no one he even knew. Was that his fault? Should he know this brown haired, brown eyed kid's name? He never even tried to get to know his classmates. Not once. He always felt like he didn't need them, that they could never understand him. This day felt like proof that he was right. They didn't care, they didn't know him. They just wanted to make fun of the weird kid.

He must've been glaring because the brunet held up his hands and backed away until Nico was alone again. Like usual.

He looked in the mirror. The same kid he always saw was staring back: dark hair curling beneath his ears, dark circles under his darker eyes, freckles spread across his pale cheeks.

He hadn't changed. The world hadn't changed. Everything was still the same. He was so stupid, thinking anything was different just because he opened up slightly to some random person who apparently didn't care about him at all.

He couldn't believe he'd considered telling him about Bianca, that they might have something in common that would help them understand each other. Will probably wasn't even Michael Yew's brother.

You know what, he thought, this is stupid. He watched his reflection straighten his spine, angry resolve piercing through his eyes. Nothing was different. He could just go back to where he was when the bus broke down.

Panicking about losing Jason was infinitely better than panicking about losing something he never had.

He walked back outside and was met with a second school bus, kids crowded around it. He almost joined them before realizing Will still had his uniform bag.

Actually, he didn't need it. Someone else would find it and turn it in with minimal hazing when he accepted it in front of the band with the other kids who lost their stuff.  

Of course, that was when Will popped up beside him. "Hey, you ready to go home?"

Nico stared at him, trying to find malice in his bright face. Suddenly exhausted, he decided not to waste his energy. "You don't have to pretend anymore. I know about the bet."

Will has the gall to look confused. "What bet?"

"The one with Octavian. Don't act like you don't know." Nico snatched his uniform bag out of Will's hand. "And don't sit next to me. Figlio di puttana."

He stormed away and onto the bus, settling into the first open seat toward the front of the bus. He let his uniform bag pool on the seat so that no one sat down next to him, then he pulled his knees up to his chest and tried not to cry.

[megumimania]

cold brews and finals week blues

eren x fem! reader

synopsis: it seems like the dreaded finals week blues has gotten to you, but luckily eren is here to help you get out of it.

a/n: was in an eren mood so i decided to write him, i miss my man 😔

“its the third time she’s come in this week, what’s her deal?” sasha asked whilst changing the coffee filter.

“maybe because it’s literally finals week dumbass, everyone is stressed as fuck and studying till their hands fall off.” jean replied, walking over to wipe down a nearby table.

“and everyone knows trost library is the worst place to be right now, everyone is on edge it’s almost unnerving, do you not remember coffee gate last year?” armin chimed in ,”i almost thought we were about to witness a murder.”

“but if someone spilled coffee on my laptop that contained my essay that made up 30% of my final grade, i’d go psycho too.” jean added to which armin agreed.

eren didn’t get why you kept coming back here, not that he was complaining, it was refreshing to see someone his age that wasn’t one of his three coworkers but the coffee was average at best, the wifi was abysmal, it was a miracle if you were able to load a document in less than five minutes and the aged interior of the cafe was enough to make you feel you were trapped in time, which probably explained why the café was a hit with the older people, but even then business was slow as ever.

the conversation droned on as eren's gaze kept moving back to you hunched over your laptop, your eyebrows becoming increasingly furrowed as you struggled to grasp the material. in frustration you let out a sigh and slammed your laptop shut and stormed out of the cafe in a huff, leaving your stuff behind.

a quick glance over at your table and eren realised that you were in his psychology class with professor ackerman, who was notorious for over complicating simple topics and for creating the most hardest tests known to man, with it being a miracle if you managed to scrape by with a C in his class.

not wanting to pry any further, he returned back to work, serving one of his regulars when he heard the rumble of thunder outside that was accompanied with the harsh sounds of the rain battering against the windowpane. he was growing increasingly concerned, almost ten minutes elapsed since you’ve been gone, not that he was keeping track of course.

with the customer leaving and his co workers already heading out, eren decided to close shop early today, leaving the door unlocked just in case you came back. to keep himself busy, eren alternated between sweeping floors and waiting for you to return. he didn’t know why he was making such a large effort for you, but after seeing you in such a panicked state the least he could do is offer a helping hand.

the shop bell rang for the second time that day as you stepped in, the rain leaving you drenched and shivering. eren's gaze fell onto you as he closed the door behind you, handing you a spare hoodie from the break room along with his notes for the psych final, placing them on the table behind him.

"thank you." you muttered quietly, pulling his hoodie over your shirt, it smelt faintly of fresh linen which brought you an unusual sense of comfort.

"you alright?" he asked, with a genuine expression of worry on his face.

“well…i have my psych final in 72 hours and i barely understand anything, my roommate is a complete asshole and im running on three hours of sleep.” you replied in a somewhat even tone, repeatedly blinking so that he wouldn’t notice the incoming stream of tears that created a glossy sheen on your eyes.

“I can help you study for your psych final, just tell me what you need help with.” he replied coolly, cracking a smile as an attempt to make you feel better. “but we can’t do all this on an empty stomach though, is pizza alright with you?” he asked turning around to face you, his gaze being enough to set your skin on fire.

when the pizza arrived, you and eren went back and forth on who was going to pay but eventually he won. you watched him with a small scowl on your face as he paid and tipped the delivery boy extra. he faced you with a subtle shit eating grin.

"i could've paid for it." you grumbled whilst getting a slice of pizza."i know." eren replied “it’s my way of saying thanks.” you looked at him in confusion, “thanks for what?”

“well for one, it’s not everyday i end up helping a pretty girl study for her finals, usually closing is the most quietest part of my day.” he replied looking away briefly

you were not going to mention how he called you pretty, given that his flustered expression said enough also you were still processing the compliment, not that you weren’t a stranger to a few compliments here and there, but while those were fleeting, eren’s compliment stuck. creating a surge of butterflies in your stomach.

you both sat in silence, finishing the remains of your food. bored of the silence, you turned to eren asking him, “what do you do in your free time other than school and work?”

“I teach karate to kids on weekends.” he replied, looking up at you. “are you any good at it?” you said with a teasing lilt to your voice.

“my trophies and medals hanging up in my room at home says otherwise.” he chuckled before adding, “if you don’t believe me you are more than welcome to come down to the dojo to watch me train.”

“okay sure.” you said calmly trying not to think about how fast your heart was racing. you turned to look outside. the rain eased up leaving nothing but dark clouds as a reminder of it’s looming presence, it was getting late and you wanted to get back to your dorm before it got dark.

“I should get going, its getting late.” you said, finally getting up from your seat. “let me drive you home, i can’t let you walk by yourself this late.” eren said as he grabbed his keys and his jacket before closing the door behind him.

you both got into the car as eren began driving, you turned on a random radio station, trying to fill the endless vacuum of silence. eren was too focused on driving that you took this opportunity to observe his features, from his shiny brown locks, his intoxicating green eyes, to the light freckles that dusted his face.

you felt your face getting hot at the sight of him. suddenly it was too stuffy in the car, you rolled down the window to get some fresh air. eren looked over at you in confusion but you reassured him that you were okay.

after arriving at the university’s parking lot, you got out of his car thanking him for the ride. eren didn’t leave until you reached home safely.

the day of the psych final arrived, you got into class early to do some last minute revision. you spotted eren at the back with his headphones on, looking concentrated as ever while glossing over his notes.

not wanting to disrupt his flow, you chose to sit a couple rows in front of him. you opened your laptop going through your notes and flashcards as you tried to remember the information. you were shitting yourself to say the least, even though the impromptu study session with eren helped a lot, you were scared of failure.

“y/n!” eren whisper shouted, trying to grab your attention. “yes?” you snapped at the voice in frustration, before realising it was eren, “im sorry, i didnt mean—”

“mean what, ms l/n?” professor ackerman interjected, his tone sharp as ever. “you and mr. jaeger know that once you step into this hall, it is strictly exam conditions. luckily you’ve caught me on one of my good days, so i won’t go to the trouble of disqualifying you both from this exam but don’t let this happen again.”

“sorry professor,” you both replied in unison.

you waited for the rest of the students to fill in, as you mentally began to prepare yourself for this test, with a sound of a paper being placed on your desk snapping you out of it. looking around, you spotted eren who gave you a thumbs up, wishing you good luck, you returned it and looked back at your paper with your pen in your slightly trembling hand.

you waited for the rest of the students to fill in, as you mentally began to prepare yourself for this test, with a sound of a paper being placed on your desk snapping you out of it. looking around, you spotted eren who gave you a thumbs up, wishing you good luck, you returned it and looked back at your paper with your pen in your slightly trembling hand.

surprisingly, the test wasn’t that difficult, you managed to get over your nerves and finish the paper within the time with the confidence that you answered each question as best as you can. the rest of it was out of your hands.

“time’s up, please stop writing.” professor ackerman announced further adding, “please leave your paper on my desk in an orderly fashion, you are dismissed.” you left the classroom in a somewhat better mood, now that the biggest thing in your life was over. you headed out on the courtyard, sitting under the large oak tree, basking in the suns rays.

eren spotted you by the oak tree, leaving armin and mikasa to continue their conversation. eren thought you looked like you just stepped out of a painting, the way the sun illuminated your perfect features.

“hey, can i join you?” he asked squinting his eyes from the sun, so that he could see you better.

“yeah sure.” you replied, motioning for him to sit next to you.

“how was it?” eren asked curiously, busying his fingers by pulling out the grass

“it was alright, i managed to finish the paper and everything i studied ended up being on the so i can’t complain.” you replied directing your attention to him, “how did it go for you?”

“it was pretty good, i think.” eren answered before asking, “what do you think you’ll get?”

“eren i am not gonna bet on my grade, i don’t want to jinx anything!” you replied .“but since we’re on this topic i bet that i’ll get an 80, if luck is on my side.”

“okay, i bet that i’ll get an 83, see now both of our grades are in jeopardy!” he jokes as you hit him on the arm. “If you get an 80 i’ll take you on a date.”

you stared at him dumbfounded, “are you fucking with me, jaeger?”

“nope.” he replied with extra emphasis on the p, (seriously eren was confused where this surge of confidence came from).

“so worst case scenario, what if i don’t get the 80?” you asked curiously

“the offer still stands.” he replied with a grin watching your reaction

“that is such a weird way to ask someone out but im in.”you replied with a smile before continuing, “do you enjoy making risky bets, mr jaeger?”

he laughed before replying, “no not really, i only bet on things that i have my heart set on.”

your heart fluttered in response, you took a deep breath before mustering a reply, “i’ve got a class in five minutes so i gotta go, but thanks for everything.” giving him a quick but meaningful hug, before walking off to your class.

a week or two later, you opened your laptop to find an email from professor ackerman, which contained your grade. after a minute of trying to give yourself a pep talk, you clicked the email and your jaw dropped, as you saw that you got an 82 on your psych final.

you texted eren unable to wipe the smile off your face

you: i got an 82 on my psych final

you: professor ackerman must’ve been in a good mood or something

you: yk what im not gonna question it imma just take it as it is!

eren: not be that person but i told you so y/n 🥱 #inerenwetrust🙏

you: yeah yeah, you better have a sick ass date planned! 🙄

eren: of course, only the best for you.

eren: i’m already outside let me in pls, my ass is about to freeze off 😔

you: bro wtf??

[outlanderfandomfollies]

Some parts of SamCait Shipperville seem to be stuck in a 1950s fantasy

Has there been a time warp on Tumblr?

Is it the 1950s again in some corners of SamCait Shipperville?

It has to be because the preferred SamCait "narrative" for many extreme shippers (ES) is that between the years 2016 to 2021, S and C have had anywhere from 3 to 5 "boos."😳

In this day and age, women with high powered careers don't usually opt to have more than one or two children. Especially, if they are starting a family in their late 30s.

But this seems to be a fantasy of certain ES, who believed that anytime C's belly wasn't completely flat, she HAD to be pregnant. These same ES have also been busily finding reflections of "boos" in glass bottles and pictures of "boos" in fuzzy photos.🤦🏻‍♀️

Having a large family might be THEIR fantasy, but I doubt it is C's or S's fantasies.

What is fascinating to me is that these women are so caught up in their 50s fantasy, that they appear to have never bothered to consider how improbable it would be for S and C to actually live the fantasy in real life.

YOU CAN'T HIDE FIVE "BOOS"--OR EVEN THREE: Sometimes one picture is worth a thousand words. So I put together this manipulated photo, to show what it would look like if C had to deal with 5 young children--and how absurd it is that anyone thinks that S & C would be able to keep such a large family "secret."

As you can see from the above manip--it would be nearly impossible to hide this many children from the world.🤷🏻‍♀️

But even if there were only 3 or 4 "boos," it would still be very hard to hide them from the world.

First of all, S & C would have to try to convince very young children to never tell anyone that they are their parents.

Good luck with that.

Then imagine stopping the boos' playmates from revealing the secret. And asking their playmates' parents and siblings to also keep the secret.

Then imagine hushing up all of S & C's relatives, colleagues, and neighbors.

Finally, think of how difficult it would be to get all of the boos' teachers, babysitters, nannies, au pairs, etc. to agree not to tell anyone.

WOMEN WITH DEMANDING CAREERS DON'T START A LARGE FAMILY IN THEIR MID-TO-LATE THIRTIES: Many of the ES think that Cait had her first "boo" in July 2016. At the time C would have been 36 years-old (about 3 months shy of her 37th birthday).

It's not unusual for high powered career women to try to have their first child in their mid-to-late thirties, but those who do are aware that they are also at greater risk of infertility, miscarriage, and of having children with severe developmental problems.

But in the the minds of certain ES, C chose* to have anywhere from 3 to 5 "boos" between July 2016 and the summer of 2021, when C was between the ages of 36 - 41.

Seriously. Who does that in this day and age?

But wait, there's more! 😱

Following the logic of this particular SC "narrative," not only did C & S choose to have all of these children relatively late in life, but they chose to have this large family despite both of them often having to work 13 hour days, and having to fly all over the world for award shows, premieres and film shootings. Not to mention the fact that their work and travels often saw S on a different continent than C and the "boos."

Given all of the above, what I want to know is:

I don't care if ES assume that C & S have nannies or au pairs or other childcare arrangements. Nowadays, few couples with such demanding careers would opt to have a such a large brood of kids relatively late in life.

BOTTOM LINE: Certain shippers have a 1950s fantasy of what life is like in the imaginary "marriage" between S & C.

It is an impractical and an extremely improbable fantasy.

Anyone with any common sense would know that.

Unfortunately, extreme shippers have put their common sense on hold--sometimes for years--just to keep this particular fantasy alive.

[edited]

____________ *Even though C was raised Catholic, she supports women's reproductive rights. She avoided being pregnant for years despite having a couple of serious relationships. She wouldn't just start using the rhythm method once married. If C actually had a big family, it would have been a choice she made. IMAGE SOURCES: a) 1950s family illustration; b) manipulated photo sources: 01 + 02; c) gossiping kids photo; d)Three people can keep a secret gif; e) Wait, what? gif; Who's minding the Kids? photo. Note: All images/gifs were modified from their original sources.

[dribs-and-drabbles]

Current Tag Game

I've been tagged by quite a few people now (thank you @twig-tea @colourme-feral @slayerkitty and @telomeke!) and in the past I've been too busy to complete these kinds of things but even though I'm still busy now, I figured I ought to do it this time...and if I don't do it now it won't get done. So, I'ma do it in 15 mins. Let's go!

Current time: 09:49

Current activity: I've just returned to my hotel room after having had breakfast. Hash Browns and Baked Beans ftw!! (<- How to tell someone you're British without telling them you're British 😂).

Currently thinking about: All the things that need to be done today - I'm away for work and I need to prep some stuff before leaving the hotel to go pick up some food for lunch because I won't have time to pop out later, and then I have to go to the location for today's work event and I basically won't stop until after it finishes tonight at 21:30 ish. (And somehow squeeze in Dangerous Romance somewhere there...maybe during my dinner break...or maybe I'll have to wait until afterwards when I'm back in the hotel again...but the internet is patchy at best - so if you don't hear me posting about it, it's because I won't be watching it until tomorrow evening 😭)

(Come on Lin, you gotta write faster!)

Current favourite song: This is so hard to pick just one! Okay, Until Then by Tilly Birds. I've known of the band since the Bad Buddy days but never really listened to their albums until Only Friends started airing and I discovered I'm Not Boring, You're Just Bored which made me go to their albums and now I'm a fan of more of their work.

Currently reading: I've said it before but I basically live in the Bad Buddy fandom on ao3. All other books are collecting dust on my bedside table, unread and unloved this whole year 😥

Currently watching: Not much actually since a lot finished airing recently. So, Dangerous Romance, Kiseki Dear to Me and You Are Mine. I've been waiting on english subs for the final episode of Love in Translation but it's been so long I might not bother anymore. And I paused I Feel You Linger in the Air before ep 9 and I'm waiting until the last ep has aired before I go back to it. I need to know if it's going to have a happy ending before I continue because it was SO beautiful but also SO heartbreaking and I was just scared all the time for the characters (someone tell me if it ends happily for all our couples!).

Special sub-heading:

Currently NOT watching and Sad About It So I've Had To Block The Tags: Shadow the series, My Gangster Oppa, and I Cannot Reach You (and maybe a few others I can't remember - I might not be able to watch Red Peafowl for the same reason) - all mainly because they're on platforms I don't subscribe to.

Current favourite character: I think Chen Yi and Ai Di (the Taiwanese Pat and Pran basically) - the one who realises his feelings late and goes ALL IN and the the other who has pined FOR YEARS and can't quite believe he finally gets to HAVE HIS DREAM. They own my whole heart.

Current WIP: My Thai Communal Wardrobe Advent Giveaway! Come request for a post about an item of clothing that has appeared in two or more shows to be dedicated to yourself or to someone else. I've only had about 10 requests so far - and I've already found about FIVE more, so the list I have currently stands at 50+!! There are plenty to go around 😁 Ask for more than one as well if you want.

Tagging a few who appeared in my recent notifications (and apologies if you've already been tagged, have already done it, or aren't interested!): @dimplesandfierceeyes @hsfavoriteworlds @belladonna-and-the-sweetpeas @quodekash and @aprilblossomgirl

[sunskate]

Preparing for the World Championships, at home no less, is one thing. Doing it while trying to recover from a concussion is another.

Marjorie Lajoie was supposed to be at training on the morning of January 4, when your journalist went to the Verdun Auditorium to speak with her and her partner, Zachary Lagha. This trip was motivated by the desire to get news of the duo in the run-up to the World Championships presented this week at the Bell Centre.

Both skaters had achieved good results, including two Grand Prix silver medals, in the first portion of the season.

“Marjorie won’t be there. She was injured in a fall,” Lagha said in the corridors leading to the locker room. It would later be learned that she had suffered a concussion in the preceding days.

Lajoie resurfaced only two months later, during the media availability of the athletes invited to the biggest figure skating event of the year.

Wearing sunglasses with yellowed lenses to soften the reflections of the light, she trained without difficulty on the Canadiens' ice. “I was able to start skating again. We followed the protocol, here we are at the Bell Center and we are capable of doing complete programs,” she said a dozen days ago.

The risk of concussion is part of the game, of course. These athletes, capable of performing pirouettes as spectacular as they are perilous without the slightest protection, apart from a suit as thin and fragile as a butterfly's wings, risk their health on almost every flight.

Marjorie Lajoie knows it. And this is undoubtedly why this discipline is so exhilarating. But above all, she understands the need to follow each step of the recovery protocol. “I can do anything now. It just remains to gradually and safely get back into shape."

Supported at the Institut National du Sport du Québec, the 23-year-old athlete was followed by five professionals “for the eyes, the head, the energy”. She believes she followed the protocol to the letter. Thus explaining why she will take part in the Worlds, in front of family and friends.

The importance of healing

Her desire to perform in front of her family was a fuel as soon as Montreal was awarded Worlds, initially planned for 2020. She will finally have the chance to participate, though with much more baggage than at the time.

Lajoie obviously feared having to forfeit due to her condition. The verdict would have been particularly hard to digest. However, healing completely was the sine qua non condition for skating in Montreal. A rule that she had imposed on herself.

Even though she has been skating with Zachary Lagha for over a decade, the two protagonists are still in the prologue of their careers, considering that some of their rivals and title contenders are in their mid-30s. Hence the interest in rebuilding now, a question of focusing on the long term. “Even before my concussion, I took extreme care of my body, my mind and my health. It's a priority. We know that in ice dancing, it's the long term that counts. It's not at 20 that we will be world champions, it's the oldest who have the results. So I always prioritized recovery and my injuries.

The ice dance gold medalist at the 2019 World Junior Championships cited Kaitlin Hawayek as one of her inspirations to get her through the long and frustrating recovery process.

American skater, Hawayek had to give up her season due to another concussion. “Maybe they [Hawayek and her partner Jean-Luc Baker] will have to stop because of the concussions, because precisely, I think that they had been less well followed, less well informed by his team, and I do not never want to go there."

Hawayek even contacted the Quebecer when she was made aware of her situation. “We had discussions, she wrote to me, because she knew exactly what I was going through, she was still in shock herself. She knew exactly where I was going. I had a lot of support from her."

With Zachary Lagha, Marjorie Lajoie took 13th place  at the Olympic Games, 11th at the last Worlds and 14th place  in their first participation in 2021.

The goal this week will certainly be to enter the top 10. In Grands Prix this season, their worst result was a sixth position in Beijing. They were forced to forgo the National Championships at the turn of the new year. These Worlds will therefore be their first, and only, real test before ending the season.

Last week, the routine was not yet perfect, according to Lagha, but he promises a worthy finish when the time comes: “It will be perfect for the Worlds. There are still some details to work on in the free dance. The short is pretty much set in stone, but there is still a little work to do."

[revvetha]

I rly don't know what to do with my life at this point, everything is so stagnant. I am so unbelievably uncomfortable everywhere all the time. I hate the clothes I wear, and at nearly 30 I still keep thinking some day a switch will flip and then I will finally start dressing how I want and feel that I deserve it. More than anything I hate every inch of my flat, it's not a home and I'm never comfortable there. I know I literally will never be happy or able to rest and heal while I'm renting. This space isn't mine, to the point where touching its walls and floors and my own furniture actively disgusts me.

I used to be so so smart and now my mind has just stopped working. I've basically stopped writing my PhD and I no longer care about it. Those five years were utterly pointless. And now I cannot engage with any new knowledge or information whatsoever, anything new freaks me out and my brain completely blocks it. I can barely think about anything at all. All I can do is relisten over and over to podcasts I already know. I need a change, but I know change will not be possible while I live in a place I despise. I need to move out, but even though I could afford it easily there is just no place to go. And on top of that I don't even know if I want to stay in this city or even in this country. How on Earth do you decide where to live for the rest of your life? God, the thought of settling down and staying in the same place for a whole decade or even longer freaks me the fuck out. Especially alone. The only thing I would have been happy to actually dedicate my life to is no longer possible, and even a year later I still haven't managed to accept that in the slightest. I have no idea how to stop chasing after what I know to be a pipe dream. So I don't know if I just need a reset in a new country or something. My life is going nowhere and I don't know what to do, all I know is that I'm miserable and uncomfortable and terrified all the time and have been for well over a year.

The fact that I don't get a second try at this life is fucking kiling me. Everything I want to do, I have to do while I'm alive right now currently. Genuinely how is a human being supposed to live with that

[heartshattering]

Ten good nights 🎉

I slept well again last night. I have a nighttime routine I've been sticking to which helps me out a huge amount compared to before. I had always heard how important having a bedtime routine is but I always felt like it was one of those things that would always be too hard for me to actually do. I guess it's because I used to think you needed to follow a super detailed and complicated routine and get everything done perfectly "right" or else you wouldn't be able to get any sleep, but it's not like that at all. It's helped a lot with my mental state and I haven't had any major panic episodes or hallucinations for a while.

I reached my reading challenge goal that I set for myself earlier this year. It was for 15 books which I know isn't a lot compared to some other readers but given that I was barely reading anything over the past few years, I do consider it an accomplishment. I might set a higher goal since I don't want to stop at 15, I still have 8 physical books from the library plus some eBooks I downloaded but haven't gotten around to reading yet.

I'm also at almost 2 weeks of nightly meditation. Even five minutes a night has been helping me out though there are some nights where I listen to the longer tracks (30+ minutes). Hopefully things keep going okay.

Finally I'm going to try to cut down on caffeine, not eliminate it completely all at once since that's too intimidating, but just try to drink less of it a day. Same with some other things that make my IBS worse. I really need to take better care of myself and not consume things that will trigger my symptoms, plus like I've mentioned before, when it comes to caffeine specifically I really shouldn't be drinking so much of it for other reasons besides IBS anyway. When I was a lot younger and saw a pediatric cardiologist I stopped caffeine completely but that was long before I was hooked on drinking coffee every day, so all I really had to do back then was stay away from cola and tea. If I do eventually decide to go totally caffeine-free it'll be harder than it was back then, not impossible but I don't want to overwhelm myself with too many big changes all at once.

[pa-stella]

oo how abt 30 + kuujyu for the love confessions ?

I'm so sorry for how long this took me T-T I've been struggling with inspiration and writing lately... and I rewrote this at least 4 times. I ended up changing the prompt and it came out a little sad too. I hope you'll like it anyway!

Title: Secret Thoughts Fandom: Hypnosis Mic Pairing: Kuko/Jyushi Prompt: "It's hard for me to describe what I feel for you... but just know that it's love nonetheless."

When Kuko finally emerged from the weighted blanket, he needed a few instants to process that he was still in Jyushi’s bedroom. He eyed the duvet and shook his head. If he had something like that at the temple, he would spend the entire day sleeping. He wondered how Jyushi was able to leave the bed every morning. Speaking of Jyushi…

He glanced at his teammate who was still napping to his side. The laptop on which they had been watching a foreign movie was now on the floor, safe and dormant. The cold winter sun had disappeared and the room would have been in complete darkness if not for the huge moon shaped lamp adorning the gray wall.

It wasn’t the first time they had fallen asleep next to each other while chilling and doing nothing. Their training sessions often finished with the two of them dozing off in the veranda or one of the many rooms of the temple, only to be woken up by an angry Shakku. What surprised Kuko was the way Jyushi was clinging to his arm, as if the monk was another Amanda. 

If Kuko had to be honest, he felt a little trapped between the wall, Jyushi and the heavy blanket, but there was something in his mind that forced him to stay still. In that position, the only thing he could do was to stare at Jyushi and… he gladly did that. 

Even if the vocalist’s make up was all smudged, Jyushi looked angelic like something out of that world. A few strands of his long fringe were covering part of his face and Kuko fought the urge to move them away with his free hand. He also struggled against his desire to hold the young man closer. 

The monk sighed.

He wasn’t stupid. He knew why that kind of thought was invading his mind and heart lately. He was aware of the reason why it was becoming more and more difficult  to let Jyushi go away from the temple, to leave Jyushi’s home after their movie nights, to just… be his master and team leader.

Feelings were complicated. Their facets and nuances were even more complex and Kuko knew he’d for once be at a loss of words if he had to openly say what he really thought of Jyushi. Even in his mind, it was hard for him to describe what he felt for him, but he just knew it was love.

He also knew that Jyushi felt the same. The dreamy sighs, the need of constant contact, the longing behind those blue eyes.  All clear evidence of his affection. And yet…

Exposing those feelings would be a mistake, Kuko knew that.

They were master and disciple.They were friends. They were family. 

In the few years they had trained and fought together, Jyushi had changed. He had evolved, matured, but his journey was still long. Kuko wouldn’t forgive himself if that slow development would reach a stop because he had indulged in his own desires. Feelings were complicated. One small detail, one wrong word, and the harmony they had could be ruined.

It was better like this, he was sure of that. Sooner or later, that sentiment would disappear and only their friendship, their bond, would remain. 

Without noticing, his hand had moved to push the hair out of Jyushi's face. His big eyes opened slowly, but he pressed more against Kuko’s arm.

“Kuko-san…” he whispered. “Just… five more minutes…”

Kuko showed a small bittersweet smile before sighing.

“All the time you want, Jyushi.”

[mrgammakay]

Remember when memes used to be questionnaires instead of gifs??? I AM ANCIENTTTTTT. @imindhowwelayinjune​ has placed a curse upon my house and now I’m honor-bound to dispel it.

Last song: Burn by 2WEI & Edda Hayes

Last show: The English was the last show I watched all the way through. I’m here for a good western and gotta use that accidental Amazon Prime 30 day free trial while it’s there.

Last Movie: I honestly can’t remember. Last time I was on a plane with in-flight entertainment, I watched Jurassic World: Dominion. It was terrible. But, hey, there were dinosaurs eating people.

Currently watching: I’m making my way through Rise of Empires: Ottoman Season 2. Work is holding me back but I WILL watch ancient political corruption, thanks. If all documentaries were shot like historical dramas, they would be my dragon hoard and I’d roll in a pile of them like a cat in catnip.

Currently reading: I’ve been trying to finish Women of Troy for over a month now, but I got distracted by a strong desire for magic ninja content. I also have A River Enchanted and Babel queued up in the reading roster.

Current obsession: I will never be able to escape my preoccupation with Uchihas. At this point, they’ve haunted me for over two decades and will haunt me for decades to come. I’ve been rereading the manga since Christmas. My DnD group has listened to 45 minutes of dissertations on power scaling problems in Naruto canon. Kishimoto continues to drag me to emotional narrative peaks joined together, not by sensible plot arcs or logical character motivations, but decimated, wasteland valleys of absolute plot fuckery.

Anyway. Sasuke’s a bitch, Itachi’s a god, and Shisui is a pure tragedy. I’ll be in this hell for the rest of my life.

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Five books I’ve enjoyed since September

Okay, I basically didn’t read in October or November but I sprinted through about 10 books in December to try to reach my reading goal for the year (unsuccessful).

She Who Became the Sun by Shelley Parker-Chan. New favorite book of all time. It’s got all my kinks: war, ancient history, swords, horses, deep-seated loathing (self and otherwise), vague mythological magic systems, khans. Never in my life have I connected with a character in a more visceral, unwanted way. My existential crisis was full-blown. I didn’t want to identify with a eunuch on a profound level, but here we are.

Greywaren by Maggie Steifvater. I reread the whole series before going into the final book, so I can’t remember if Greywaren was my favorite. But I’ve never read a magical world similar to the nonsense that goes on in the Dreamer Trilogy. It’s real good. Ronan is also a peak character. Aggressive goth Gryffindor farmboy representation matters.

Rogues: True Stories of Grifters, Killers, Rebels and Crooks by Patrick Radden Keefe. Like true crime but don’t like gory details? I don’t understand you, but this is the book you’re looking for.

Furysong by Rosaria Munda. I found the character arc resolutions a little unsatisfying in the end but overall, this is probably my top young adult fantasy series. Dragons. There’s so many dragons.

I’m Glad My Mom Died by Jennette McCurdy. What a ride. I saw a lot of her interviews about this book before I read it, so I knew exactly what I was getting into. It’s powerful for someone to talk about their bullshit in a way that doesn’t sugar coat it. 

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Last line written

I wrote almost nothing this year, but somehow this question caught me when I’ve just started working on a project again. The rust on this keyboard has been corroding since 2020.

“Still alive?” He asks. Irunae looks remarkably better than Énkava feels. He’s sitting up, for one. “So you’re not completely useless, then.”