#like i am just tired of people being in my house wo warning. also this is the second time eli has done me dirty like that.

[boytoycowboy]

wednesdays are the most untrustworthy days of the week

[whiterosechrista]

"Inspirational" Posts and Personal Issues

Warning: long post. Proceed at your own risk.

Right, so.

I was scrolling through the 'inspirational' tag, and came across this post.

It made me probably more annoyed than I should be, so I'm gonna try and process why, while also asking for input/general conversation about it.

Disclaimer; I'm tired and haven't eaten much today, so I might just be overly sensitive right now.

In rough chronological order, here's the particular points that ticked me off;

Point #1:

The title; "STOP BEING LAZY AND PATHETIC" (In All Caps)

Right off the bat, something about that just rubbed me the wrong way. I know it's meant to catch your eye and make you pay attention, but something about (in)directly referring to people you don't know as "lazy" and "pathetic" feels.. wrong. Like, excuse me? Who are you, random person online that I've never met in my life, to tell me I'm lazy and pathetic? What right do you have to judge the life of someone you've never seen in person? None.

Point #2:

"No One Cares"

One of the first sections goes on about, in short, how everyone has problems, and no one cares about yours, so just move on with your life. Now, technically, they're not wrong; everyone has problems, and it is definitely not healthy to think yours are inherently worse than everyone else's. But saying "no one cares" feels inherently untrue. Sure, if you whine online (or irl) about every little grievance, it might make people annoyed and/or desensitized to it. But humans are inherently empathic (most of us, at least), and we probably would've died out a long time ago if no one cared about others' problems. Idk, it just feels weird to me.

Point #3:

"You're Not Lazy, You're Privileged"

Now, there's definitely a good point there. People who're struggling to make it by can't afford to be lazy, so if you can, you're probably more on the privileged side. But this gets me thinking about those people who call the younger generations "lazy" because they're not out working 8 hours a day/rely on technology/don't get out much/etc. Firstly; one person's experience of life is never going to be the same as someone else's. By the simple fact of having individuality in everything from personality, to wealth, to generation, to culture, the way you live your life is never going to line up exactly with everyone else's. Secondly; I'm pretty sure a good chunk of the people dubbed "lazy" are actually suffering from some form of depression, and just haven't been able to get help for it for one reason or another. I myself am what I think the stereotypical "boomer" would describe as "lazy"; 24 years old, unemployed, constantly online, rarely leaves the house, doesn't have good eating/sleeping/cleaning habits, and guess what? I was diagnosed as having moderately severe depression. So yes, "lazy" people are likely privileged, as if I were in a worse financial situation I would have likely pushed myself to get a job, which might've forced me into better sleeping/etc. habits, but that doesn't automatically mean I should work myself into a breakdown trying to feel more "productive".

Point #4:

"Focus On Your Health/Relationships" and "Make Routines and Stick to Them"

Again, definitely good points being made here, and I can agree with most of it, but here's the thing; I tried that already. I've tried making routines, I've tried focusing on my health, but no matter what, I always fuck up and get back to my bad habits. Now, that could totally just be me being bad at sticking to things, I'll freely admit to that. But here's another thing to consider; I'm neurodivergent. Been evaluated as being highly likely on the Autism spectrum + I have attention span issues possibly related to ADHD. Putting reminders on my phone doesn't work. Putting events on my calendar doesn't work (unless it's a big important thing/something I'm looking forward to). I've tried to get into better hygiene habits by putting "Take a Shower!" on my calendar twice a week. Didn't work. Tried putting a daily reminder to "Check In With Friends!" on my phone. Didn't work. However I'm wired, those things just don't register as "important"- they just get filed away as "one of many notifications" and ignored. Do it without reminders? I can barely remember what time I had breakfast at. No way I'm making it work without outside influence. In short; good tips, but some people just aren't wired that way.

Point #5:

"Clean Space is Self-Respect"

Verbatim: "Clean space is a clean mind. Not even cleaning after yourself is a sign of huge disrespect to yourself. Stop reading this and clean your room right now !!!!!"

First of all; don't tell me what to do. I'll clean my room when I'm in the right headspace, and having people practically yelling an order at me to do it is just going to make me less inclined to. Secondly; messy rooms are a sign of self-disrespect? I can get that, I guess. Seeing people online cleaning out their "depression nests" definitely makes me happy for them. Here's the thing, though; sometimes, the messiest people are the most active, creatively if not physically. I'm a writer- not great at getting anything finished ('cause possible ADHD), but a writer nonetheless. My head is constantly filled with a bunch of different ideas (when I'm not fried, at least), and I'm so busy trying to keep them straight in my head that the thought of "cleaning up" just doesn't have time to occur. I can maneuver through my room without having to watch the floor 24/7, and that's good enough for me.

(Also; changes are tricky for me to deal with (possibly because of Autism). If I'm comfortable in a space, I don't want to change anything about it. The big move we made last December, right as I'd started recovering from depression, was hell on me. I love the new place, don't get me wrong, but the shift was a mess.)

Point #6:

"There's a Reason"

Verbatim: "Remember the reason . Remind yourself, " Why did I even start ? " " Why did I even want this goal ?" . If you don't want the goal anymore then do something else."

Good advice, just one thing to point out; why do people feel like they always have to have a "goal"? The only time I care about a goal is when I'm playing a game (video game, tabletop, whatever). Like, sure, if you're feeling unhealthy and trying to get better, setting a goal can be helpful. But it can also be stressful. Say you expected to lose 10 pounds in 6 weeks, and instead you only lost 5. You did all the work - went on a diet, started an exercise routine, the whole shebang - and you only made it halfway to your goal. (Please note; I'm not a professional, I don't actually know how many pounds one could lose in 6 weeks). That kind of thing takes a toll. Makes you question yourself. Makes you think; should I just not even try? Now, of course, not everyone's gonna automatically give up at the first minor setback, but you get the idea. Setting a goal is a bit like setting a standard, and we all know what happens when people don't meet those. That's not to say you shouldn't set goals at all, it's just the amount of people ragging on people who don't have goals is a little extreme. You don't need a goal to have a good life. If you're happy, then you've got a good life, or at least a pretty decent one. Constantly setting new goals just wastes energy. Give yourself a break.

Point #7:

"Think About What Story You're Telling Yourself"

Verbatim: "If you are telling yourself that you are a lazy person , you will act like one. Your mom didn't carry you for 9 months just for you to say that you are lazy. Get a hold of yourself. Don't complain about how you don't have your dream life if you are lazy."

...

..*sigh*.

There's so many points I could make here. It's good advice, fundamentally, but the way it's worded.. I've heard the "carried you for 9 months" thing from stories about toxic parents too many times to find it inspirational. "I carried you for 9 months"- yeah, you did the bare minimum required to make a human, good job. On the other hand: "don't complain about not having your dream life if you're lazy"? Fair statement, can't argue too much, but it's not always laziness that keeps people from their "dream life". It could be financial reasons, health reasons, or just a plain old crooked system that, for example; hires people based on race, pays differently based on gender, or locks you out of some opportunities because you have a "handicap" that doesn't actually impact your ability to do the job. Effort is good, can go a long way, but sometimes the world just comes together to block your progress, no matter what you try.

Point #8:

"Realize You Can Change Your Reality Any Time"

Verbatim: "You can change your realities really fast if you start acting like the person you want to become."

Not actually much to criticize here; the "fake it 'til you make it" strategy is proven to work. It's just that the wording of "reality" makes me flash back to my dad's "Energy Healing" bullshit. Just say "change your life". Reality is always the same, you're the only thing you can guarantee to change- you're not omnipotent.

(No offense meant to anyone who practices this stuff, it's just not for me.)

Point #9:

"Heal the Past and Move On"

Verbatim: "Go to therapy and heal from the past. You can change your story around . If you are a victim of trauma or abuse , don't just go around and tell people because they lose respect for you ."

...

This is one of those perspectives that makes me have to take deep breaths to calm down. Yes, therapy is wonderful, and you can majorly improve your life by going to it (assuming you have a good therapist), but it's not as simple as just "going and healing". You have to be in the right mental state to realize you should go to therapy, you need to have the courage to make the step, you need to physically be able to get there (or find one that'll do video calls- speaking from experience, phone sessions are not enough), you might need a support system to help you if it doesn't work out, you need to be able to afford therapy in the first place.. I could go on. Also, "losing respect" for someone for trying to vent out their trauma to you is the worst thing you could do. Sure, you don't want to be hit with their trauma all the time, but just tell them that you're not up for that, or, I don't know, help them find a therapist. If a person is weaponizing their own trauma for sympathy, that's different story, but they still should get help. If you don't want to deal with it: block them. Mute them, restrict talking time, establish whatever boundaries you have to, but don't turn it into a "respect" thing unless they're blatantly not giving you any.

(I realize this is a bit harsh; people simplifying mental health issues is one of my big pet peeves that's hard for me to react calmly to, so I'm sorry if it sounded callous.)

Point #10:

"God Will Help"

Verbatim: "Learn to accept help. Sometimes God send people to help you. Ask help from God and you will receive help in miraculous ways."

Now, I completely agree that learning to ask for/accept help is vital. However; basing the statement around a "God" that not everyone believes in is not the best way to deliver the message. I personally am agnostic; if "God" exists, cool (though I have some questions about some things he did), but I don't particularly mind if he doesn't. Some people are just straight up atheist; don't believe in any kind of god at all. How is asking help from God supposed to benefit them? They don't believe in him. It'd be like asking Santa to buy you a motorcycle.

(I mean no offence to anyone who believes, I'm just saying framing your advice around Him means nothing to nonbelievers, and might in fact push them away instead. If I recall correctly, Jesus once said something along the lines of; "respect atheists, for they help you not because God told them to, but because they believe it's the right thing to do". If I'm wrong, please feel free to correct me.)

Overall:

There's actually plenty of good advice being given, but the way some of the things are phrased just doesn't sit right with me. Once again, if anything I said was offensive, it wasn't meant to be. Please tell me so I can do better. I'm sorry this is such a long post, and thankful to anyone who made it this far. You guys didn't have to, but you did, so thank you. :)

[peachyunjinnie]

❝dear dori...❞ lmh ― f.

― summary:

you find a stray cat, and as the kitten rushed outside, she ran to the coffee shop to reunite with her owner and the barista minho.

barista!minho/female!reader | fluff | 1.9k ↬ content warnings: -

a/n: had this idea and it seemed so cute and soft. also this is for @mikoto-ica-fics​. i think the threesome will be the worst fic ever and the most time eating shit but i am working on it!  <3

plus for the other two minho stans i know uwu @mini-meanhoe​ & @nightshade-minho​

→ blogs masterlist

“Go! Go back!” I said to this thing following me, for a good 20 minutes straight. The fast walking of it scared me even more than I usually does. Yes, I am scared of cats, but here I am going home but this cat is not going to leave me. 

“Come one! Go!” I tried and tried, but this kitty is not going to leave me alone. With another look at this cat, I saw that it has no collar. This cat is no way older than a year and is just going around the dark streets of Seoul? 

The broken sounds of this probably exhausted and tired kitten was echoing in my ears. I looked back at this cat, deciding if this cat looks hungry or just having a walk, maybe this cat just wants to annoy me. Gladly my house was just in this area. I got inside but before I could do anything this little thing just stalks in my apartment. Just walking right past me and making itself comfortable on my small couch. I quickly went up to the kitten and started to freak out since there were no animals allowed in here.

“Hey, little kitty. I know you are probably very tired and just want to sleep a bit in a warm place but I wi- Wow I am talking to this cat.” I interrupted myself mid-sentence. 

The meows of this stray cat was translated into a simple and easy ‘let me sleep and shut up’. I couldn’t keep this thing in here. What if someone sees this cat? what if this cat attacks me? what if its owner is searching for this cat? So many questions but sadly no answers.

I decided to close the door and just leave her here for tonight. I couldn’t really do anything else than that, so I got out a plastic bowl and filled it with some tuna. I heard a loud grunt from the cat as it agreed to my decision of the food choice.

The small paws of the cat was visible around the corner as it came towards me and my heart began to beat faster. Even though I made some food for this stranger, doesn’t mean I will stop being scared of this thing.

“G-Go to the couch!” I once again talked with a cat. I shook my head as this cat came closer and closer. I stood completely still and closed my eyes as this kitten stroked against my leg, my knees trembling hardly. What have I gotten myself into? Why am I like this? But the much bigger question is why is this kitty so calm and relaxed?

The purrs of the kitten was vibrating on my leg and my foot. The sound calming me down instantly. I opened my eyes again and peeked down. The cats expression was something in between ‘give me the goddamn food already’ and ‘calm down, im not gonna eat you’. I instantly relaxed a bit from the softness and the fluffiness of this little curled up ball.

I kneeled down and carefully touched the head of this little thing, still having a little distance. My shaking hands caressing this kitten. I couldn't believe how I was doing what I was doing, but it seemed so easy and...kind of good.

The purring and the vibration was getting louder. The cat was falling down my hand and just pushed itself to me, shocked of how desperate this kitty really was to be pet was not what i was expecting.

"You are tired...aren't you." I said more to myself, starring at the weak and already closed eyes. I couldn't tell if this cat is like that because it is tired or if this kitten really accepts me. I shook my head, trying to get all lf this out of my head and put the tuna down.

The instant standing up from the cat scared me and I stumbled backwards to the counter. The kitty couldn't care less and ate the food in a matter of seconds. I was shocked by the fast pace of this kittens eating and I stepped back and watched the bowl get emptier and emptier. How can this little thing eat so much and so fast? Well, at least a thing we had in common.

I shrugged my shoulders and walked to my bed to finally lie down. This day at uni was awfully hard, geometry and math quite literally killed me in every single way. Inhale exhale, enjoying this little moment of peace and silence. Not being trapped in the noisy traffic and just escaping this busy city that is Seoul.

I let the door opened and there was this kitty standing at the door frame, staring at me with a tilted head. I don’t know what to do or how to process this cat that has now eaten is strutting to my bed.

“Oh boy.” 

“Meow.” The kitty hasn’t meowed once yet and this sound scared the living shit out of me. 

“Come on. Go to the couch!” The cat didn’t seem to care about my anxiety rising and just jumped up the bed.

“Go!” She lay down and rolled around on her back, her paws in the air and her playful eyes fixed on me. I saw the little eyes shining and the pupils being small, which meant that she is relaxed...right?

I took my hand and stroked the kitten a little. The purring of the cat became louder and the soft 'meow' was less loud than the other one. The cat stretched out to me and closed its eyes for a little rest. My hand patted her automatically and I lay down again to rest also like the cat.

"No, I did not. Can I please have Nara's transport box?" I asked my sister on the phone, begging to use her

"Y/N, why don't you call animal services? They could help you better than I could."

"I don't want to. I don't want to leave this kitten to those people. I'll go to Mom's and drop her off. She wanted a cat."

"You're seriously giving this kitten to our mother?"

"What else can I do? I myself am afraid of cats and I'll have nervous breakdowns if it meows or moves or even exists in my presence."

"Come on, give it a try. You can bring her to me and I'll take care of her." "You mean it?"

"Yeah, you can't have her with you and I don't want her with Mom." "Why not?"

"Because I know Mom, and she can use everything right now, but not a pet." With that she hung up and a notification came up from a text from her.

‘I’ll be here in 10.‘

A loud knock on the door after I was just done cleaning up the messy kitchen echoed through the apartment. I saw paws hushing to the door and loud scratching noises, trying to know who was having the audacity to interrupt the nap of this stranger kitten.

I stopped mopping the kitchen floor and tried to get to the doorknob to open it somehow. What was interesting is that this cat did not look at me or acknowledged me standing there. The tail was wiggling and I was feeling my angst rise and my hand shake. I opened the door quickly and the cat just rushed outside to the streets. Me and my sister had a moment of staring at each other and not knowing what to do now.  One or two seconds have passed and my sister reflex has kicked in better than mine, as she sprinted after the cat and I stuck to the ground and waited for my brain to process the situation. 

I quickly realized the situation and ran off to catch my sister in this sprint. I saw her hair blowing in the wind of her fast pace and the shadow of the cat that was chasing something quickly. After the 10 minutes I could finally see that the cat was getting slower but after 15 minutes the cat has crossed the road and entered a coffee shop. 

“A coffee shop?? Really?” I asked and was clearly as confused as my sister was at the moment. How could this cat just run for 25 minutes and then casually walk inside a coffee shop with no hesitation at all. 

“This cat is as weird as you are, Y/N.” She laughed, well she tried to laugh even though she is kind of having an asthma attack at the moment.

I stepped inside the coffee shop and was still breathing hardly and was greeted by a very floral and very well decorated. The pretty and visibly pleasing to look at cafe was something between what I would imagine heaven would look like if you would think that heaven was a white and pink and blue paradise. I was instantly calmed down by the pastel colors. The chairs and tables were in a purple warm tone that melted well into the scheme of the place. I was greeted with 2 customers who were each sitting on the end of the room and were minding their business. I walked up to the one barista that was working there. He had brown hair and the prettiest brown eyes, the brightest beaming smile on his face and as I got closer to the counter I saw this little ball of fluff curled up in his arms.

“Oh- Sorry. Do you want to orde-” He started but noticed my big eyes on this kitten, not leaving the sight of it and the kitten escaping his clutches to go on the counter to stroke towards me to push it’s head on my hand that was resting on the hard wooden table. 

“W-Wow, do you know my little Dori?” He smiled and exposed his beaming smile. I couldn’t tell if my world was turning or if I was feeling dizzy. I couldn’t stop starring at his beautiful facial features. I couldn’t keep my gaze from him and stop starring at this stranger that I do not know at all but this magical feeling this man gave me, was absolutely and undeniably the nearest example I could give for love at first sight.

And it seemed that he was doing the exact same with me, scanning me and not looking at me. He was looking through me and straight stared into my soul. My god, I couldn’t tell you if I was dumb or if time and gravity has stopped for a minute. 

“N-No, this cat h-has followed me and I fed her and let her sleep at my pl-place.” I stuttered and never left my gaze from his deep brown eyes that were forming into an eye smile.

“Wo-Wow. That is so nice of you. I was looking for her last night- Can I maybe g-get you something to drink? It’s my last shift a-and we could-” He was as nervous as I was but I couldn’t help but smile hard from the tint that came onto his face.

“Of course, My name is Y/N. By the way.” I smiled at his eyes not knowing where to look at. My face heating up as well and my smile not losing it’s intensity.

“I am Minho.”

[a-milky-strawberry]

Suga x Reader - Cold (2) (Angst/Slight Fluff)

It’s been years since you were discharged from the hospital. The doctor had put you in a therapy program. You were required to meet with a man 3 times a week to discuss your “condition”.Due to the fact you didn’t go to half of them, you now had to have the sessions in your own personal home. Whoopee! At the time your parents were so anxious and frustrated over you that you felt you couldn’t even take a shit without them trying to break down the bathroom door. The last straw was when they told you (not asked you, told you) that they were going to take the hinges off of every door in the house, not including the front or back door. Yep, that meant the bathroom, your room, their room, closets, etc.. You moved out 2 days later. You had found a nice, small apartment that was cheap to the point of being suspicious. There was no kitchen, 1 bathroom, and your living area and bedroom were connected. The only thing you had remotely close to a kitchen was a mini fridge and a hot plate. It was kinda like a studio only smaller.

You weren’t going to do anything stupid with moving out and plus you hadn’t done much of anything since you got discharged. In fact, you had taken temporary leave from school and they understood once word got around about your accident. However, the pity in their eyes made you wanna vomit. You didn’t need their pity, their “how are you feeling today”’s, or the burdensome help. You just wanted to be left the hell alone. Was that really too much to ask? With the money you were saving for grad school you instead used it to get said tiny studio in Jeonju. The tenants were primarily old people but they were nice and it was always quiet. Sometimes you’d joke to yourself if you accidentally rented in a retirement home.

Today the weather was nice and sunny but due to your blackout curtains you could hardly tell. If it weren’t for the small gaps on the side shining a bit of natural light you’d think you lived in eternal darkness. Besides, the T.V. provided enough light for you as you laid on the cool wood floor. You weren’t watching anything in particular, just surfing the channels for anything interesting. A familiar song bombarded your ears and you tune into the screen.

BTS.

If you could’ve rolled your eyes any harder they’d get stuck staring at your brain.

It wasn’t that you despised them now. In fact, you were still on good terms with them. Well, except for that piece of shit moron Suga. You clicked your tongue as that name entered your head as his face shown on your screen. You spit on the name Min Yoongi. Being that you had an extreme allergic reaction to him caused you to miss out on some good songs and concerts. Though you didn;t really care because--

*K-Chlick*

You groaned thinking you had jinxed yourself as your heard your front door being unlocked by a certain spare key.

“HEY!! WAKEY-WAKEY BEST FRIEND!!” 

Oh no. Please no.

“WOW! IT’S SUPER DARK IN HERE!”

Your curtains flew upon letting in the blinding rays of death. You curled up in a ball and let of a harsh hiss as you were temporarily blinded.

“THERE! NOW IT’S ALMOST AS BRIGHT AS ME!!”

Sigh. You jinxed it.

J-Hope. Jung Hoseok. Sunshine. Your Hope, Hobi.

Now, you hadn’t given him a spare key specifically. You had given it to Jungkook, your still best friend. He gives it to one of the members in rotation when he doesn’t have enough time to check on you. But now, you have almost every member busting through your day everyday even without warning. However, none of the guys are as loud as J-Hope, but what did you expect?

You felt as if someone was staring at you and it had gotten way too quiet. You peeked open your eyes and saw a smiling Hobi with the sun rays in the background like he was some goddamn angel.

“Hey best friend! Didya miss me? Huh? Huh?! Didya?!”

“As much as I hate to admit it, your presence is very… overpowering.” You sighed.

He dramatically gasped and clutched his heart. “Did I just hear a compliment that wasn’t bitter or sarcastic? Am I dreaming?!”

You groaned at his theatrics. “Don’t push it.”

You then felt some strong back pats and rubs. “Okay, okay. Anyway, I brought you lunch.”

You uncurled and sat up to see a large fast food bag and the smell of salty fries and processed cheese with sweaty meat.

“Lemme guess… McDonald’s? Cheeseburger, medium fries, and a Sprite.”

This man had the nerve to look shocked at your obvious guess. “H-How’d you know?”

“You bring me the same thing every time you come over, Hoseok. At least be original and bring me like a Fillet Fish or something.”

Hoseok chuckled embarrassed and scratched the back of his neck. “Yeah, I guess you’re right.”

You turned your attention back to your T.V. and changed the channel to a random sitcom that played. “You can have it. I’m not hungry.”

Hoseok frowned. “Are you not eating again?”

You rolled your eyes. “First off, just because I was lazy not to walk alllll the way to the kitchen at my parent’s house doesn’t mean I was unintentionally not eating. Second off, no dummy, I just went out last night and picked up some street food. I had some leftover this morning too, so I’m not all that hungry.”

You side-eyed the greasy food on the floor. “Plus, if I eat another McDonald’s cheeseburger again I’m gonna be sick.”

Hoseok laughed. “Fair enough.” He gathered the fast food bag and put it in your fridge for “that special midnight craving”.

As he was heading towards the door, he stopped and looked back.

“Hey, ummm… (Y/N)?”

“Uh-huh?” I answered still watching the sitcom.

“There’s gonna be a concert tomorrow night. And I was wondering… if you wanted to come this time.”

Here we go again. Anytime the guys would visit they would try to convince you to get out of the house to go to either their concerts, after parties, movie nights, and it didn’t matter where you were, on the toilet, in the shower, night outs, lunch, dinner, brunch, you name it. A tiny part of you wants to go, like it’s still clings to who you once were. But, the rest of you doesn’t want to exist socially and you feel like if you see Suga nothing’s gonna stop your fists from colliding on his cheek.

“Probably not--”

“Please (Y/N). I’m begging you.” He was now fully turned towards you and on his knees. “We haven’t been able to be all together or see you as much since you moved out from your parents and we miss you.”

You stayed silent.

“Everyone is so worried about you. Even Bang PD-nim. Everyone misses you and they want to see how you’re doing. Please (Y/N).”

You felt this weird pain in your chest. Almost like your heart was clenching tight at his plea. Why did you feel pain over this?

“I didn’t ask for ANYONE to be worried about me. I’m FINE!” you snapped. You didn’t mean to snap at him or was it that you didn’t mean to be defensive?  Why were you getting so in a knot over this? Just tell him no like you have multiple times. Or was this feeling because you wanted to go? It’s now making your head hurt over how stupidly convoluted your overthinking was.

Hoseok sighed. “If you won’t come for us, then please visit Yeontan.”

Yeontan? V’s puppy?

“I know you saw on Twitter that he got a puppy. Don’t you want Yeontan to meet his auntie?”

Well,... you had been wanting to meet that fluff ball too and the pictures you saw on Twitter made you have a case of FOMO big time. He was the only one that made a small smile appear on your lips and a twinge of happiness in your heart.

You sighed. “Maybe.” you mumbled as you closed your blackout curtains back.

Hoseok was silent for a while before heavy stomps made their way towards you and you were lifted off the ground. “FOR REAL?! OH THANK YOU (Y/N)!!” he screamed as he lunged forward and picked you up in celebration. “YOU WON’T REGRET THIS IS SWEAR!”

“Put. Me. Down. You. ANIMAL!” you yelped. “I’m getting nauseous!”

Hoseok put you down and ran towards the door. “Just wait until I tell the guys about this! They’re gonna be sooo psyched!”

“Dumbass! I said--” the door slammed closed with Hoseok already gone “maybe…”

You clicked your tongue at his brashness. You never fully agreed to go. He was blowing this whole thing out of proportion. Besides, how’d he even think you were going to get it? The concert is tomorrow night. If there is a ticket out there it probably costs an arm and a leg to get it. And that’s not counting if it’s also fake. You groaned in frustration and fell to the floor already tired of the day’s events. You felt your eyelids grow heavy and decided on a cat nap. You crawled over to your mattress and pushed it closer to the T.V. You laid on top and wrapped yourself in a warm weighted blanket and snuggled into your pillow. Before you knew it, you were fast asleep.

---

It was the night of the concert and you were staring at the ceiling in the dark. Why was yesterday’s talk with Hoseok bothering you so much? You hadn’t stopped thinking about it since he left and it was honestly giving you a headache.

*Grooowl*

Your stomach cut through the silence. You lazily crawled over to the fridge and winced at the bright light and shivered from the cool air. There wasn’t much, except the greasy bag of McDonald’s Hoseok had given you yesterday. Sighing, and praying that you don’t get an upset stomach, you took the bag and opened it.

You pulled out some fries and them being illuminated by the fridge light was a ticket and a backstage pass sticking out of it. You automatically groaned and took them both out. What also caught your eye was on the fries bag was written: ‘PLEASE!’ You pulled out the chicken nuggets: ‘PLEASE!’ The cheeseburger: ‘PLEASE! PLEASE! PLEASE!’

Your eye twitched in annoyance. He really was trying here. You looked back at the ticket and then at your phone.

“The concert’s already started… Is there any point in going anymore? Plus, I didn’t even promise that I would even go…”

You looked back at the pleading food and remembered Hoseok’s face when he collapsed on his hands and knees. And even when you told him ‘maybe’ he looked so happy. He would want me to go for even a little while, right? You sighed, got up on your feet, and walked over to your closet.

“Where’d I put that hoodie?”

---

You were now standing outside the stadium already regretting your choices of being outside. You had drove nearly 3 hours from home to this concert and you were already having second thoughts. You suddenly had a stomach-churning flashback as you remembered what they’re concerts are like. It’s hot and loud and sweaty and full of screams; both fanboys and fangirls. You shivered and shrugged it off. You were more than late to the concert. You already knew how this would plan out. They’d tell you it was too late, you’d text Hoseok saying you were late and couldn’t get it, and that you would be the end of it. You’d go back to your bed where things were nice and quiet. At least, that’s what you thought…

“Oh, Miss (Y/N)! You finally arrived! I thought you were having second thoughts!”

A perky woman in the ticket booth greeted you happily and took your ticket. How did she--

“How do you know my name?”

“Oh! From BTS, of course. They told me you’d be arriving and gave me a picture as reference. Though, I must admit you do look a little different. But anyways, they told me to let you in no matter what!”

You internally screamed. Of course. That loud mouth J-Hope must’ve gone and run his mouth to every and anyone. Idiot. What if I hadn’t shown up or threw out that McDonald’s? Wait… does that mean he knows I’m--

“Here you are! Enjoy the show!” the woman said giving me back the ticket stub.

I muttered a thanks and went in. You were more towards the front and that meant you’d be pushed and shoved by the mosh of fangirls. Before opening the concert door, you took a deep breath. You could already hear the soft roar of the fans. Maybe they’ll be singing Heartbeat and it’ll be calm when you walk in.

You opened the door and your ears were immediately assaulted with the unholiest of screeches. They weren’t singing Heartbeat. You slammed closed the door and tried to steady your already hyperventilating breathing. God! Were these concerts always this loud?! How were you not deaf?! Okay, okay, okay… this won’t be that bad. Just go in, stay for about 30 minutes, take a picture, send it to the guys, and get the hell out of here. You breathed in once more ready for the game plan and opened the door once more.

You walked down the stairs and found your row. Being meek and polite, you made your way through the horde and found your spot. You looked up at the bright lights that displayed the dancing group. They were singing Dionysus and of course they were giving it 110% almost matching the same volume as the fans. ‘This song… ah… from the new album…’  You tried your best to endure the loud volume and you bobbed your head to the lyrics. Even if your worst enemy was up there, you should at least enjoy the music. The next song to play was HOME which was your favorite because it was nice and slow. The vocals on Jimin, V, and Namjoon were so beautifully woven that you couldn’t help but sway. You looked at Jimin as he sang. ‘Ah… how cute… oh! I should take a picture…’ You took out your phone and as soon as you were going to press the button someone slammed you from behind causing you to drop it. ‘Shit!’ Not worrying about who pushed you, you bent down and started looking. You were getting glares and whispered comments about your situation during such an emotional and beautiful song. You ignored them and kept looking. It was too dark and you could barely see anything apart from the soft glow of the Army Bombs and shoes.

“Excuse me?” said a male voice.

You looked up to see a nice looking boy holding something. “Are you looking for this?” It was your phone! You quickly stood up and nodded. As he handed you the phone he gave you a wink and a chuckle. “I drop my phone sometimes at so many concerts I’d hate for it to happen to someone else. Hold it tight, kay cutie?”

You felt your face go red and I bowed a quick thanks as you went back to your spot. No way… Did that guy just make you… blush?! You shook your head and went back to the task at hand, taking the picture. As you raised your phone up, you saw that Jimin was making a passionate face. Smirking, you took a pic. ‘I bet if I post this…. That’ll be hilarious!’

As the concert came to an end you had a feeling of slight sadness. You had enjoyed the new songs and the silly antics they did. You also saw how dedicated they had become and how grown and strong they looked. Maybe Jungkook was right. It wouldn’t hurt to pop in every now and again. The stadium was clearing out and you sighed and looked at your backstage pass. Then, you had a question that should’ve been asked before coming: Since when did BTS start doing backstage passes? Where would you even go? As you walked up to the silver gate that protected the security and BTS, a security guard walked up to you.

“Miss (Y/N)?” he asked.

Of course it had something to do with J-Hope. “Let me guess. BTS told you about me?”

He nodded and held out his hand. You gave him the pass and he nodded again. “Please follow me.” You took his hand and he helped you over the gate. Some leftover fans stared in disbelief at the fact you were personally being escorted backstage. Walking back there gave you a since nostalgia. Meeting the guys after the concert, congratulating them, going out to eat as celebration and relaxation. Your heart twinged at the memories, but you tried to shrug it off. You were going to see them after a long time. This is a happy thing, right? Happiness…

“We’re here.” spoke the security guard as he opened the door to the green room. The guys weren’t there yet. “You can wait here.”

I said a polite thank you and walked around the room. It was so much bigger. Your boys were getting so popular… Well, they deserved it. As you looked around the room, a cage caught your eye. Curious, you bent down and looked inside. “Yeontan?” The dog seemed to recognize its name and lifted its head. You opened the cage and Yeontan walked up to you, sniffing. You picked up the tiny fluff ball in awe and held it close to your face. “Aww!” you screamed. “Aren’t you just about the cutest thing ever! Who's a good boy?!”

Your words got Yeontan hyped up and he started licking your face. You smiled brightly at the cutie. This was so much better than looking at his pictures on Twitter. “You’re a good boy! Yes, you are! You look like a tiny chocolate chip cookie! I could just eat you up but I wouldn’t because you’d be too sweet!”

“(Y/N)?” called a voice. You looked towards the door and saw all the members staring. All of them. You felt nervous and your stomach started churning again. It’s been years since you’d seen them all together. You normally saw them one at a time, but that didn’t mean you saw them everyday. You had seen one member every few months if you were lucky. They looked tired and Jungkook looked more like an adult. Those pictures on Twitter don’t do him justice. What would you even say to them? What do you say in a situation like this?

“Didja miss me?” Smooth (Y/N), real smooth.

Suddenly, all at once, the members group hugged you and started talking over each other.

“See I told you she’d come--”

“Of course we missed you idiot--”

“You’ve missed so much--”

“We’ve miss you so much--”

“Have you been eating?”

“You look sooo skinny--”

“You playing with Yeontan was sooooo cuuuuuttteeeee--”

You pushed back from the group hug and grinned. “Yeah, yeah… I missed you guys too. You look so mature now.”

“How was the concert?! Didja like it?! Didja love it?! Oh who am I kidding? Of course, you loved it! You wouldn’t be here if you didn’t love it! Didja like our songs?!” Jungkook rattled off a hundred words a minute.

“Jungkook, calm down. You’re going too fast for her to answer.” said Namjoon. “Did you enjoy the concert (Y/N)? We wanted you to be comfortable but thought putting you in VIP would make you irritated.”

“Well, I only caught the middle of Mikrokosmos and to be honest,” you said as they got nervous, “HOME is now officially my new favorite song.”

“Really? You liked it?”Namjoon asked. You nodded. “My favorite vocals were Jimin, V, and you, Namjoon.”

As the guys talked amongst themselves, you glanced a saw a lone figure standing far from the group. Your grin turned sour as you two made eye contact. “H-Hey (Y/N).” The group turned to see your reaction. You turned your attention back to Yeontan still in your arms and looked at V. 

“V, where’d you find this cutie? He’s so adorable!”

Deciding not to make the situation awkward, he answered. “Oh, I got him back in 2017. He is adorable huh?”

“Um… (Y/N)-”

“Where do you find time to take care of him? Ooh! Does he tour with you guys? Like a secret member or something?”

“(Y/N)-”

“Hehe, unfortunately no. He lives with my parents for now because of my busy schedule.”

“Ah, I see. I did see that on Twitter. He lived with you guys at first right?”

V nodded. “Yeah, but when J-Hope told us you’d come to the concert I thought you might want to meet him.”

You smiled and snuggled into Yeontan’s fur. “Well, I’m glad I came. And if you ever need a babysitter for this cutie--”

“You don’t mind?”

“Of course not! From now on, he’s family. Plus, it might liven up my room to have a cute puppy in there before getting one of my own.”

“You’re thinking of getting a puppy?” asked Jimin.

You smiled. “Maybe.”

“You know,” spoke Namjoon, “it’s been forever since I’ve seen that smile.”

You felt your face. You were smiling. Why now? You looked down at Yeontan.

“My dog is magic!!” V shouted, hugging you.

You brushed him off and grinned. “Yeah, maybe he is…”

---

You stayed for a few minutes and talked and played with Yeontan all while avoiding a certain someone. You put Yeontan down and stood up.

“Well, I better get going. It’s pretty late…”

Jungkook shot up. “So soon?”

You nodded. “I’ve done a lot today and I forgot how much a concert takes out of me. I forgot how loud and rowdy they were. I’m exhausted.”

You yawned as you were saying goodbye Jimin caught your hand. “You’ll visit, right? I mean, will you be coming back anymore?”

Then Jungkook grabbed your other hand. “J-Hope hyung told us that maybe you’d open back up and hang out with us and eat dinner with us like you used to? Are you going back to avoiding us? Avoiding me?”

You felt a break in your heart. All those times they invited you out over the years you saw as a burden and troublesome for the awkward tension between you and Min Yoongi. When it fact, you had hurt them. You had moved 2 hours away from them. They wanted you and you were too selfish to even consider that you should just ignore the hatred in your heart for Min Yoongi. 

“Well,” you said softly, “being here brought back a lot of memories. Some good, some bad. Listening to your music again, seeing your passionate faces, watching you guys have fun were one of the many enjoyments I had at your concerts. So…”

You let out a sigh and squeezed Jimin and Jungkook’s hand. “I can’t promise I’ll begin saying yes to outings. My anxiety has gotten really bad over the years and like I said, being here brought some bad memories. I also live far away. But… I would like to be here for you guys again…!”

The members consumed you in a group hug and you left saying goodbye to all but one.

---

As you walked down the street, away from the concert you felt a little happy. ‘Maybe the reason I didn’t want to go out was because of my anxiety. Maybe  should’ve stayed with that therapist. I think I still have their number somewhere. Maybe I should give them a call for more meetings. No. I will call them. First thing in the morning.’

As you were having these thoughts, you had the feeling you were being watched. You glanced back and didn’t see anyone. ‘I really should head home. There are always creeps at this time of night.’ As you sped up the sound of shoes speeding up caught your attention. ‘It’s just your imagination. Just the dark playing tricks. There’s no one there.’ You glanced back but this time you saw a shadowy figure following right behind. Following your instincts, you immediately booked it. The person had the same idea and ran after you. Breathing heavy and the sound of harsh footsteps sent fear through you. Why?! Why was this person following you?! No-- chasing you?! A sasaeng fan?! The thought sent you running faster. As you made it towards a more populated area with cars, you glanced back. All of of sudden honking. A car’s headlights. You froze.

Suddenly, you pulled back onto the sidewalk as the car zoomed by. You whipped your head back to see Min Yoongi, panting and sweating.

“IDIOT! WHY DID YOU JUST STAND THERE?! DID YOU WANT TO GET HIT AGAIN?!” he shouted.

“IDIOT?! ME?! I WAS RUNNING TO GET AWAY AND I DIDN’T HAVE TIME TO--”

Wait. Panting. Sweating. Stage clothes still on. Hat and face mask sloppily thrown on.

“WHERE YOU FOLLOWING ME?! WHERE YOU THE ONE CHASING ME?!”

He went silent. 

“Oh my god! You fucking stalker!”

“I’m not a stalker!”

“Oh really?! Let’s assess the situation. It’s nighttime and extremely dark. The only source of light from the stadium to the this main street is a bunch of street lights. Oh! And when I started running, the first thing out of your mouth wasn’t, “Hey (Y/N)!”. It was to run after me like some deranged psycho! Did I also mention IT’S NIGHTTIME! I bunch of fucking weirdos walk around and you expect me to know it was you!”

Your rant made Min Yoongi’s eyes widen and a few onlookers were staring as they passed by. “I-I didn’t think about that…”

You scoffed. “Oh, just like how you weren’t thinking when you told me to disappear and I got hit by that fucking truck? Or when you had the gall to show to the hospital and proclaim your love for me after all you said to my face?!”

He winced. “I said I was sorry--”

“Sorry doesn’t mean shit when your family thinks you should be on some kind of list and your best friends think that for the past 2 years they were the problem and that I was avoiding them! Don’t you realize what you’ve done?!”

You couldn’t stop them from coming. You had tried avoiding this and still the tears you swore to never show had reared its ugly head. 

“D-Don’t you realize what your coldness has done to me…?” you hiccuped and sniffled. “I rarely go outside because I was afraid-- I am afraid that someone is going to hurt me and look down on me the same way you did! And then you have the nerve to save me this time, how dare you! How DARE YOU, MIN YOONGI! WHERE WERE YOU THE FIRST TIME!!”

The street grew quiet. Onlookers were now fully staring and little crowd had gathered. Whispering, pointing, gasping. 

“You know… for the first time in years since my accident, I actually had fun today. I heard beautiful music, I got to see my closest friends, and I even smiled.”

You looked him in the eye. “Do you know how long it’s been since I’ve smiled?”

He didn’t answer.

“A really, really, really, really, long time.”

“(Y/N), I--”

“Save it, okay. I’ve spent way too long hating myself and hating everything because of you. Because of your coldness. I thought that if I behaved as cold as you, nothing would get too close to my heart and I wouldn’t be hurt anymore.”

“(Y/N), please--”

“But after seeing the pain of my friends faces, I’m done being cold. I’m done obsessing over my hatred over you. You’ve eaten up so much of my life before and even after my incident that I need to move on. I guess I never truly moved on, even after all that’s happened. I need to get my life back on track. I need to mend some fences that my coldness have frozen.”

You sighed and wiped your tears. “I’m done with you. Goodbye.”

You walked past the small crowd and made way home. You felt lighter. Better. All those emotions that you shoved and locked deep down came out and you couldn’t help but feel better. You’ve felt so many emotions today. Maybe you can feel something. Maybe it just took one emotion to overpower the others. Hatred. Sadness. Heartbroken. You remember the day of the incident. You felt such sadness and hatred that you didn’t want your tears to flow. Well, now they did. Maybe this is a good thing.

No-- this is a good thing.

- - - 

holy shit. has it really been 2 years since the first one. okay! so! I know promised you guys like months ago that this shit would be out by the weekend but college has been absolutely kicking my ass. like holy shit. tbh i didn’t even think you guys liked the first one. but after seeing that people wanted a sequel here you go! i’m sorry that it’s so goddamn long. it’s been a while since i had to write about something else that wasn’t an essay. anyways, here you guys are! i think i might turn this scenario into a multi-part series, who knows. i will try to upload more consistent and give you guys more kpop scenarios and i might start doing reactions too. my ask box is open if you guys have any suggestions. later noonas and oppas. peace out!

[this-is-freeridge]

The Air Between Us

Chapter Sixteen: Mari escapes with Oscar.

Warning: this fic deals with dark themes, including but not limited to teen pregnancy, rape, drug abuse, murder, abortion, underage drinking and underage sex. Read at your own risk.

Find all other chapters here.

Read the better version here.

Mari didn’t know how long she stood there, paralysed with fear, feet rooted to the floor, but it was long enough for Mallory to force the door open at the exact moment Mari tried to slam it shut. She stumbled back a little from the force but recovered in time to take two large steps back away from them.

“Now,” Mallory growled as she stepped over the threshold and into the Martinez house, “is that any way to treat your mother?”

Mallory was in better condition than when Mari last saw her, though that wasn’t saying much. Her blonde hair had been washed, her clothes too. Her bangs, usually choppy and uneven as she had cut them herself, were straight and fell almost gracefully over her blue eyes.

To the untrained eye, Mallory looked healthy. So did Doyle, with an evenly trimmed five-o’clock shadow and a crisp blue button-down. To an outsider, they looked like a normal family, and that scared Mari more than anything; their ability to blend, to lie, so well.

Mari glanced around, past Mallory’s cold blue eyes and thin but towering frame, desperately searching for some way to escape. There was no way out though, she knew better than that. The only way to go from here was deeper into the house and she wasn’t about to corner herself, nor was she about to lead these people further into her last safe space.

“What are you doing here?” Mari asked weakly, though she was barely able to hear herself over the pounding of her heart and the blood rushing in her ears.

Mallory’s boyfriend, Doyle, pushed past her as he made his way to Mari.

“We missed you,” he smiled the kind of smile that, to someone who didn’t know better, looked genuine and kind. But Mari knew better, and his lecherous gaze betrayed any innocence his words may have held. “But this game of yours has gone on long enough. Your mother and I think it’s time you come home,”

He lunged forward and reached out for Mari but she jumped back before she could be caught in his grasp. The thought of his skin on hers was enough to bring the bile back up to her throat. He would never touch her again, she wouldn’t let him.

A sharp pain shot through her as she collided with a table in her attempt to evade his grip. The framed photos on the table clattered and fell. A crystal vase filled with red and orange flowers toppled over the edge and hit the floor, shattering upon impact.

“I’m not coming back,” she said, remembering she wasn’t alone and feeling a little bolder (as though Ruby or Olivia would be able to stop either of them were they to try anything). “You need to leave,”

They couldn’t hurt her here. This was her territory, her home, her family. They didn’t belong here but she did. She wouldn’t let them make her think otherwise.

“Mari?” Ruby’s voice called. She glanced over her shoulder toward the source of his voice, only to find him stopped at the end of the hall, eyes wide and hands balled into fists at his sides. He was scared.

This was his home and he was scared, because of her. What had she been thinking? Of course, she didn’t belong here. The Martinezes were a family, hell, Freeridge was a family; dysfunctional at times but ultimately ready to protect its own.

Ruben and Geny were amazing parents, protective and caring and Ruby got those traits from them. This home was safe for him, had always been safe for him. Now Mari had let these people invade that safe space, not just her own but Ruby’s too. She had put them all in danger just by coming here, and she had been stupid to think they wouldn’t follow.

“What was that noise?” Ruby asked, not daring take another step forward. “Who are these people?”

“It’s nothing, Ruby,” she said, shooting him a desperate look. Doyle took a step closer to her. “Please just go back to your room,”

Ruby shook his head.

“I’ll call the cops,” Ruby glanced at Mari, and then at the man making his way slowly but surely towards her. Despite being four years younger than his sister, Ruby felt some sort of instinct to protect her rise up inside him - though he was barely five-foot, what could he do? Nothing. But he knew who could. “I’ll call Spooky!”

“Ruby, no!” Mari shot back. She didn’t want to involve Oscar, not yet. When all was said and done (and Mallory and Doyle were gone) she would tell him, but if he knew what was happening right now, well...Mari didn’t think it would end well for Doyle or Oscar, and he couldn’t afford a third strike.

“Mallory?” Another voice chimed in.

Doyle stopped in his tracks.

Mari breathed a sigh of relief; shad never been so happy to hear Geny’s voice.

“What are you doing here?” Geny continued, her words filled with a genuine concern that made Mari feel just a little bit safer, a little bit more at home.

“I’m here for my daughter,” Mallory spat with a bitterness that Mari was sure had been festering for almost twenty years. “She’s been here long enough. It’s time she comes home,”

Like a lioness protecting its cub, brow furrowed, lips pursed, Geny stepped to Mallory. For the first time in maybe forever, Mari thought that Mallory looked small. For the first time, she didn’t look indestructible; she looked human.

“Was that Mari’s choice, or yours?”

“I’m her mother; all her choices are mine to make,”

Geny’s eyebrows shot up to her hairline. “Oh, no they aren’t. Mari is eighteen; she doesn’t need a legal guardian. I understand that you are her mother and I can’t stop you from being in her life, but I can stop you from being in this house. Now, get out before I call the police,”

With visible reluctance, Mallory huffed and grabbed at Doyle.

“Come on,” she said to him before her piercing gaze landed on Mari, “we’ll come back when she’s alone,”

Doyle shot her an almost amused smirk, his beady eyes darkening as he whispered, “You got lucky today, but I’ll be seeing you again soon, sweetheart,”

Dread filled her entire being. Her blood turned to ice as she watched them leave, knowing that this wasn’t the end. After all this time, they had found her; she doubted they would leave without a fight.

The door shut with a slam and the invisible hand that had been wrapped around her throat loosened just enough to let her gasp for air. And then, Geny rushed forward and took Mari into her arms.

It was the first time Geny had held Mari like this; like they were family. It was a good, warm feeling that Mari didn’t want to let go of just yet so she let herself be held, let herself be small and protected.

“Mija,” Geny said with the softest tone as she pulled away, “are you alright?”

To her surprise, Mari nodded, despite her racing heart. Maybe she was still in shock, or maybe her mind was just taking its time catching up to her body, but she felt okay; her eyes burned but no tears fell, her chest heaved but breathing came easy. Right now, Mari was in a blissful state of comfortably numb, and that’s what scared her most.

Shouldn’t she be terrified? Shouldn’t she feel violated and fear for her safety? Probably, but she felt none of that, only tired. Nothing they did could be worse than anything they’d already done to her; there was no point being afraid and there was nowhere left to run.

All she knew was that she was desperate to feel something, to remember that she was alive and she wasn’t alone, but she also knew she wouldn’t find that here. There was only one person who had ever made her feel like that.

Itching to at least speak to Oscar, Mari did her best to pacify Geny’s worries.

“I’m okay,” she said, offering as much of a smile as she could muster, “I mean, I knew Trey called them when I was in hospital. When they turned up, it...it just caught me off guard, that’s all,”

Geny’s face hardened, almost as though she didn’t quite believe her. “I’m calling the police,”

“And tell them what?” She asked, part curiosity and part cynicism, “That my mother is here to get me because I ran away when I was seventeen and came to live with people I’d never met?”

Geny said nothing and Mari almost felt bad for discouraging her. Still, she continued. “They won’t help me, Geny,”

It was a waste of time, Mari knew that better than anyone. She had called the cops on Mallory more times than she could count, for worse things than this, and yet here they were. Her mother and Doyle, they were smart - never left visible bruises, always made sure there was food in the house (even if Mari was never allowed to eat any of it), always had an alibi.

It scared Mari every time she saw it, but Mallory knew exactly how to turn it on, knew exactly how to play the caring parent as easy as flipping a switch in her brain. To the adults of the outside world, Mari was nothing but a delusional kid.

“We’ll talk about this more when your father gets home,” Geny conceded and Mari knew the conversation was over.

As Geny marched past into the kitchen, Mari shuffled on shaky legs over to the sofa. Pulling her phone out of her pocket as she collapsed into the welcoming cushions, she opened her contacts and immediately settled on one; Oscar.

Her thumb hovered over the message icon, but somehow she couldn’t bring herself to tap it. He had just been here, surely it was too soon to ask him to come back and see her. She didn’t want to be desperate and she didn’t want to be annoying, but she didn’t really want to be here right now either, and she definitely didn’t want to be with anyone but him.

Stopping her from overthinking it any longer, the couch dipped beside her as Ruby took a seat.

“Hey,” he said, “I know you told mom you’re okay but…I mean, are you? That guy didn’t look like he was playing around, Mari,”

“I am,” Mari smiled at him and offered a small shake of her head, “I’m sorry you had to see that, but Ruby, please, if they ever come here again don’t try to protect me. They’re dangerous. I won’t risk this family getting hurt,”

This time, Ruby shook his head. “You know we all want you to be safe; that includes mom. This family is your family, Mari. Don’t forget that,”

And then, as if that unlocked whatever it was inside of her that’d been closed off, tears flooded her eyes and she swooped down to wrap her arms around her little brother. He was right; this is her family and Freeridge is where she belonged, where she always should’ve been. 

When tears slowly started to fall, that’s when Mari let go. If she started crying now she knew she wouldn’t stop, not for a while, and she wasn’t ready to deal with that emotional tidal wave just yet. So instead, she let go of Ruby, wiped her eyes and leaned back as she toyed with the idea of texting Oscar.

“And,” Ruby suddenly continued, glancing between the phone in her hand and the conflicted look in her eye, “as your family, you know I only want the best for you, so I gotta ask; is there something going on between you and Spooky?”

The phone tumbled out of Mari’s grip and fell to the floor as she gaped at his words.

“I- what?” She stammered; hadn’t they been careful? Hadn’t she been sure not to let anything slip since Mario found out? Though she supposed it didn’t matter now, not since they had agreed that they were together.

Ruby picked the phone up off the floor and gestured to the screen. “I mean, it’s kinda obvious. You’re always with him and when you aren’t with him, you’re texting him,”

“Spooky and I are…” her sentence trailed off. What were they? A couple? An item? There was something about calling Oscar her boyfriend that seemed so juvenile and so basic when Mari knew that their relationship was much more than that. Besides, she didn’t want the lecture she was sure to get when she told him, so instead, she settled on something a little less definitive. “We’re a…thing, it’s still pretty new. I’d really appreciate it if you could keep this between us, at least for now. I want Ruben and Geny to hear it from me when the time is right,”

Ruby nodded, but Mari could tell that wasn’t the end of it.

“As bad as I’m sure your mom is, Mari you gotta remember that Spooky’s a cholo, okay? He runs a gang, that shits dangerous too. You have to be careful or this thing is only gonna end in blood and heartbreak. For now,” Ruby looked down at the phone and tapped the little green icon beneath Oscar’s name before handing it back to Mari, “you should just talk to him,”

Mari went to protest, but it was already dialling so she sucked in a deep breath and pressed the phone to her ear.

He answered on the second ring. “Yo mami, qué pasa?“

A shaky breath escaped Mari’s lips at the sound of his voice.

“Oscar, hi. I’m sorry, this is gonna sound so stupid,” on the other end of the phone, Oscar shook his head to himself - he wanted to say that she was never stupid for calling him, but he couldn’t will the words to come out so he stayed silent as she continued. “I know you were just here, and I know you’re busy, but do you think you could give me a call when you’re free?”

His brow furrowed a little in concern. “I’m almost done here. Are you good?”

“Yeah,” she lied through her teeth, “I just kinda need you right now,"

For just a second, although he’d never admit it, Oscar’s heart stopped at the sound of Mari’s small, pleading voice. It was a dangerous thought to have, but if she asked, he would drop everything and go to her.

Over the past few months, they had spent a lot of time together; he had not only watched her grow but encouraged her to do so. Despite what anyone may have thought about them, Oscar knew her better than, well, anyone; she was strong and she was resilient, almost to a fault. That girl would bottle up all the trauma in the world if it meant she wouldn’t have to bother someone else - so if she was calling to say that she needed him, then Oscar knew something was wrong.

“I’ll be there as soon as I’m done here,” he said, “give me thirty,”

“Oh, no, you don’t have to-”

“Mariana,” his deep voice boomed, soft but firm. “I’ll be there,”

The line disconnected before she could protest further.

. : ♱ : .

He arrived in twenty, pulling up in his red Impala, the sound of the car door creaking open and slamming shut alerting Mari to his presence.

Ruben hadn’t come home yet, but she made sure to let Geny know that she was going out and would be home late. Geny wanted to argue, wanted her to stay home, but she didn’t. Maybe she decided that Mari deserved a bit of a break, just this once.

Unable to resist the smile that spread across her face as she saw Spooky, leaning against the hood of his car, arms crossed, she ran to him and let him take her in his arms. All of the tension she had been feeling, all of the pain and fear and anger all dissipated as his strong arms squeezed just that little bit tighter around her waist. She could do this all day.

But the sound of Ruby’s voice wouldn’t let her.

“Hey!” He called and Mari turned to see him storming out of the house, she hadn’t even noticed him follow her out. Oscar dropped his hold on her. Mari stepped forward, folding her arms across her chest.

“Ruby?”

“I won’t be long, I just have something to say to Spooky,” there was a determination in Ruby’s eye that was only diluted by the sheer terror that was there as well. Still, he marched to the cholo until he was just before Mari, smartly keeping some distance between them. “I may be scared of you, but Mario isn’t, and I know you got some respect for him. She’s his sister too, so you treat her right. You gotta be ride or die, okay?”

Although she was touched at the sentiment, Mari’s face burned bright red at his words. She spared a glance over her shoulder at Spooky; his eyebrow was raised and he wore a tight-lipped smirk as though he was trying not to laugh (something Mari appreciated). Though he may not have been taking Ruby very seriously, Spooky got the message: don’t fuck this up.

The teen stood before them, chest heaving (from fear, the heat or just talking so much, Mari wasn’t sure of) and waiting for a response.

So Mari nodded and answered for both of them with a quick, “Okay,”

That seemed to appease Ruby as he nodded once and then away, back into the security of the house and away from the gangbanger. The moment he was gone, Spooky threw his head back with a barking laugh.

Mari spun on her heel and stood on her toes so she was just tall enough to throw her arms around his neck. Hands settled on her hips and she leaned into him, her lips spreading into a wide smile as she teased, “Ride or die, right baby?”

Spooky rolled his eyes and he shook his head, but his hand came to rest on the nape of her neck and he pulled her in for a kiss. It was quick, over far too soon for both of them, but they’d have plenty of time to make up for it.

"Just get in the car, mami,” he opened up the door for her and she stepped into the passenger’s seat (and pretended she didn’t notice the light smack on her ass as she passed him).

Mari didn’t say much as they drove, and Oscar knew better than to push her to speak. Instead, he turned up the stereo and rolled down the windows, letting the warm November air run through her hair and carry her voice in the dust behind them as she sang, wildly out of tune but happy, or as close to it as she had been in a while.

The car slowed when they hit a straight stretch of road, just enough so that he could look at her a second longer every now and then. Oscar loved seeing her like this; wild and carefree, exactly how she belonged. Dark curls whipped around her face, occasionally catching on her cherry lip gloss, and she was singing, loud and beautiful, in broken Spanish - a language, she had told him, she’d only learned in high school (and that he had been helping her perfect ever since).

The girl in question didn’t know how long they had been driving, and she didn’t know where they were going but she trusted Oscar enough to get them there. All she focused on was the autumn wind whipping past her face as she leaned out of the car window, watching as the scenery changed with each passing mile. Freeridge’s rundown houses turned into tall buildings; tall buildings dwindled to grass and trees and, if she looked far enough ahead, the ocean, as far as the eye could see.

Oscar parked the car between a small diner and the vast shores of the beach. Mari hadn’t been to the beach in years. As she got out of the car, the smell of saltwater filled her with a certain longing for a time when she was younger, much younger, and the world felt so much kinder. But she knew the truth now, she knew that the world was a dark and cruel place and so she pushed that nostalgia deep, deep down.

“Come on,” Spooky’s voice pulled her from her thoughts as he came up beside her and grabbed her hand, pulling her along before she had a chance to oppose, “let’s eat,”

They sat at a booth by the window and Spooky didn’t comment when Mari would start to disassociate and stare blankly at the expanse of sand and water before them. She had a lot going on, he knew that, but there was more that she hadn’t told him so he would give her some space before asking.

Although it took some time, Mari managed to convince Oscar that she wasn’t very hungry (she argued it was the pregnancy, he argued that’s exactly why she should be eating) and they settled on sharing a boat of fries, though Spooky got a burger and onion rings on the side.

It wasn’t until Spooky left to go to the bathroom and Mari was once more alone with her thoughts that everything came crashing down on her.

How did she get to this point? Matter of fact, how had this day even been real - from finding out she was pregnant, to Oscar finally confessing his feelings and then to Mallory and Doyle showing up? It was all too much. She couldn’t keep going like this, something had to give.

“Hey, ma,” a soft, smooth voice called. Her heart sank. She couldn’t deal with this right now and she silently pleaded for Oscar to come back soon, “What’s a pretty girl like you doin’ here all alone, huh?”

From the corner of her eye, Mari glanced up at him. If he wasn’t coming onto her like this, she may have thought him pretty; dark skin, perfectly groomed beard and short hair in tight curls atop his head. But if his line wasn’t enough to give her bad vibes, then the shade of green on his hoody sure was.

“I’m not alone,” she said, refusing to make eye contact or speak any louder than necessary.

The guy looked around the otherwise deserted diner. “You sure? ‘Cause I ain’t see anyone else here but you and me,”

“And me,” Mari breathed a sigh of relief as Oscar approached the man, ever her saviour. “You wanna back off my girl, Easy?”

“Alright, my bad,” the guy, Easy, said (despite the smirk on his face saying he didn’t at all think it was his bad). He shot Mari a wink and stuffed his hands in his pockets. “Hit me up when you’re single, or when you get bored with this fool,”

And then the Prophet turned his back and he left, without a fight. Oscar slid back into the booth, reclaiming his seat before Mari, but he didn’t say anything. His nostrils flared and his lips pressed into a tight frown, Mari could see he was pissed.

All of a sudden he raised his fist and slammed it hard onto the tabletop and, although it wasn’t the first time Mari had experienced one of his outbursts, this one seemed to be the thing that shocked her out of the stupor she had been in all afternoon. Everything she had been feeling - and everything she had been desperate not to - came crashing into her like a tidal wave.

The tears started almost immediately, hot and heavy and too fast for her to stop it. Across from her, Oscar’s face softened and he rushed around to sit beside her. Without any hesitation, he scooped her up into his arms and cradled her to his chest. This may not be what she wanted, but she needed it.

“I can’t,” she sobbed into his chest. It hurt him to hear her like this, her voice so small and broken, each breath sounding like it hurt to take as she gasped in air and struggled to exhale. “I can’t, Oscar, I can’t breathe!”

Winding an arm around her waist, he hoisted her from the seat and let her use him as a crutch for her shaking body as he led them outside.

“I can’t do this,” she whispered, more to herself, as they reached the edge of the sand. “I can’t be a mother, I can’t even be a daughter!”

“Whatever you need to do Mariana, you know I’ll be there with you,” he offered, hoping to soothe at least some of her worries.

Mari shook her head. “They’re here, Oscar. Mallory and Doyle, they just came into the house,”

Oscar was seeing red as he asked, “when?”

“Right after you left,”

“I’m gonna fucking kill him,” he was marching back toward his car before Mari could even respond. She chased after him, reaching out to catch his arm.

“Oscar, wait!” She cried, “I don’t even know where they are now!”

He stopped and turned, a deep scowl tarnishing his features. He shook his head. “I won’t let him get away with what he did to you. Either of them, you know that,”

Heaving a sigh, she toed at the ground and wiped her face, gathering her strength before looking at him again.

“I just don’t want any more violence in my life,” she confessed, and when she looked so beaten down and helpless, who was Oscar to argue with her?

Oscar took a step closer and tucked a loose strand of hair behind her ear. He leaned into her, close enough that she could kiss him if she were to stand on the tips of her toes and reach just that extra bit further. And then, as the smell of Corona hit her face, he whispered against her lips, “You know I just wanna keep you safe, mami,”

Mari nodded but she found herself unable to formulate a response. He wanted to keep her safe, Ruby wanted to keep her safe - she couldn’t keep putting everyone at risk just to save her own ass. One of these days she was going to have to figure out how to save herself.

With a heavy sigh and one final whimper, Mari dropped to her knees, falling into the sand as though her body no longer knew how to support itself. Oscar followed, pulling her in so that her legs were crossed over his and she was leaning into him once again.

Mari said softly, "I never asked for any of this. I never wanted you caught up in my mess.”

“I don’t mind being caught,”

She turned to look at him and offered the most genuine smile she could muster.

“Thank you for bringing me here,” she said, and then looked back out into the ocean. “I haven’t been to the beach since I was a kid, before things got really bad with my mom,”

“When did things get really bad?” He asked and maybe it was none of his business (and she had every right to tell him that) but he wanted to know her, every bit.

Mari hummed in thought, a quirk Spooky just discovered but definitely loved. “Around when I was fourteen. I mean she was never great, but that’s when she started using the hard stuff, you know? I remember getting on the bus and waiting...I think hours, for her to pick me up from the bus stop. When she didn’t come, I walked.

“It took even longer than it should’ve because I got lost a few times, but I finally made it back. And so I walked into the living room and there was Mallory, getting rawed by our neighbour while he injected something into her arm, right in front of me. That was the lowest point in our relationship, until she let her boyfriend rape me,”

“Mari, I’m sorry,” Oscar whispered, his hatred for that woman only growing but he controlled his rage; he asked, after all.

She shrugged. “It is what it is, and it just solidified in my mind exactly how much I never want to be like her,”

Eyes trained on Mari, Oscar couldn’t help but notice how beautiful she looked basking in the orange and pink sky as the sun set over the horizon - her skin glowed, her cheeks held a rosier tint and the dim sunlight reflected brightly in her dark hair.

His hands came up to cup her face before tangling in the back of her hair as he pulled her closer to capture her lips in a languid kiss. She kissed him back without hesitation, so he closed his eyes and sighed contentedly into her mouth. His muscles relaxed as he let her take over him; the way her hair felt as it fell between his fingers, the way her lips always tasted like cherries, even without the gloss, the way the curves of her body felt as she pressed against him. This woman was his escape, his saviour as much as he was hers and as she moaned into his mouth and kissed him a little harder, he only thought one thing: he never wanted to lose this.

Taglist: @robinsdolan @lostgirl219@kseniainneverland @ravengreystone@weediskindabad @moistdollerbills @javoqetal@kenzie44469 @goddessate@blackdepressoexpresso @classyputa @babygirl-htx @wonderlandlovelove @cacapoodlepoo @agent-femmefatale @elliesshitofablog@daydreamer0307 @lucyfuh @harduy @elizabeth-santana-98 @lonelyyblues

[janiedean]

It really sucks how judgmental you and some people in this fandom are of anyone who doesn't interpret the text the same way as you or who you deem as intellectually inferior to you. I agree with so many of your ideas about the characters, but I hate how high and mighty you are about those ideas. Someone isn't an idiot if they interpret Jon or Cersei differently than you.

......

lmao

okay anon, thing is: one thing is being high and mighty, one thing is telling you that you’re not reading the text.

like. I read yesterday someone being like ‘omg I read someone dared saying C. abused people and murdered someone before puberty HOW STUPID CAN PEOPLE BE’. it’s textual evidence that a) she molested tyrion sexually and that’s even without taking account my opinion re lann*ncest, b) that SHE KILLED MELARA WHEN THEY WERE TWELVE THROWING THE POOR GIRL DOWN A WELL, which means that whoever said it cannot fucking read the text because it’s black on white that she did both those things and refusing to accept it is Not Reading The Text. that’s not even text interpretation, that’s basic textual reading.

now: never mind cersei who gets a pass for about every fucking shit she pulls because she’s a woman, and don’t tell me she doesn’t because if she got as much shit about robert’s fifteen bastards that she ordered dead without even blinking as theon got for two kids that he’s felt guilty about since it happened then we could discuss it but she doesn’t and that’s not even the beginning of it. now: do you see me tagging my opinions? like, honestly, if I think something shitty about cersei, do you see me tagging it? I didn’t even tag the one time I ranted about the valonqar prophecy with her, I only tagged it with the prophecy/meta/the two characters I thought were the v. and the younger and more beautiful queen, because in the middle I said that imo cersei only cares for herself and I know ppl on her tag aren’t into reading that opinion. so: I didn’t tag it. now: how many people came in my inbox informing me my opinion of c. sucked, was biased and so on never mind lann*ncest never mind actually harassing me for it? well, enough that I had to shut down anon to avoid feeling like shit for two days about it. so like, I’m so high and mighty that I keep my opinions about people I don’t like untagged even if I think that the other side can’t read. but okay.

now, about jonc: listen, fact is, there’s exactly ten people in this fandom that I know of who give a shit about jonc period and three of them are fanartists who show up once in a while. like. exactly TEN. I made peace with the fact that no one gives a fuck about jonc, I 100% embraced that if I want content I have to do it myself, fine, whatever. but what I’m really getting sick of is that every goddamned fucking time I see the jonc tag updating (as in, five times each month if it’s a good month), it’s someone informing us of how selfish, pathetic, useless and dumb he is FOR THINGS THAT ALL OF THEIR FAVORITE CHARACTERS ACTUALLY DO ALL THE TIME and for which fandom at large praises them. or something about how him being in love with R is the most horribly pathetic thing that’s happened to adwd, or how he’s an idiot because he apparently hasn’t understood that aegon is fake because his eyes aren’t the same color as R’s when not even dany’s or viserys’s are, but no one says they aren’t targs for THAT now, do they? and sorry but reading that this dude would treat either rhaenys or jon snow like shit when this is canon:

Last night he'd dreamt of Stoney Sept again. Alone, with sword in hand, he ran from house to house, smashing down doors, racing up stairs, leaping from roof to roof, as his ears rang to the sound of distant bells. Deep bronze booms and silver chiming pounded through his skull, a maddening cacophony of noise that grew ever louder until it seemed as if his head would explode. Seventeen years had come and gone since the Battle of the Bells, yet the sound of bells ringing still tied a knot in his guts. 

Others might claim that the realm was lost when Prince Rhaegar fell to Robert's warhammer on the Trident, but the Battle of the Trident would never have been fought if the griffin had only slain the stag there in Stoney Sept. The bells tolled for all of us that day. For Aerys and his queen, for Elia of Dorne and her little daughter, for every true man and honest woman in the Seven Kingdoms. And for my silver prince.

now: it’s there black on white that he feels guilty for BOTH elia’s and rhaenys’s death, it’s not interpretation, it’s what is fucking written in there same as you can’t interpret that ned’s head got cut or cat’s last thought before she died was about ned loving her hair. so excuse me but I’m tired of going into a character who’s in my goddamned top ten and have to always, always run into people assuming he’s a pathetic selfish asshole (and the one time I tried to argue that there’s no way he’s *selfish*, maybe all the contrary to a pathological degree, the answer was basically ‘lol cannot hear you’ and not even a reblog but nvm that) rather than actual content because any of those people who have a obvious hateboner for jonc can’t just fucking tag it with *anti* jon connington. no, they have to use the character name and it’s never *content*, it’s just this drivel over and over again. and since I don’t do it with characters I don’t like, I’d appreciate if I could have the same courtesy spared for this asshole.

that said, the situation is that *one* single person (that I blocked but that’s apparently not enough for tumblr to spare me from seeing them on the tag) has asked that question to multiple blogs which all agree on jonc being shitty which means that it has popped up on the tag a whole lot in the last month and like....... if you don’t like that character why do you care so much, IDEK, but wow, I wrote one post, that I tagged with the character only, saying that ppl don’t bother to read his chapters (btw, one of the people who replied that he’d have been shitty to both jon and rhaenys was someone I ended up blocking because they were on the tag like ‘lololol grayscale I’m sure elia is laughing from the afterlife’ and when I told them it wasn’t funny and if they could avoid tagging that stuff I got told to fuck off but fine I guess, that was me being holier than thou I suppose...) which is true because they don’t, they only base their reading of jonc on that ONE line about elia which is a) obv. proof he’s jealous, b) way less bad than anything cersei and barristan think about her just to say two but lmao I don’t see them getting dragged for it, but everything else? what? two full chapters? do they exist? tyrion’s chapers? never knew them.

like.

anon, tbqh at this point if you wanna think I’m holier than thou just think that because while I like to think I’m not, if there is one thing I know I’m good at is text analysis (okay, last time I said I got two degrees based on text analysis I got told ‘ah okay so if she studies she’s obv. bragging so she knows nothing’ by someone whose main theory was robb stark is the unsung villain of these books but lol I mean having studied this counts for nothing, right???) and it irks me that in a fandom based on books/text analysis I have to read **meta** which is obviously made by people who haven’t read the text and then when given a counterargument ignore it. but even with that, do you see me engaging with it? nah. I can 100% assure you none of the people I would like to see out of the jonc tag actually go on the jonc tag nor follow me, so they will never know that I think their opinion is shit unless they go looking for it. and this because I might have engaged with at least two of them on the topic once - and nicely, not *judgmentally* - and no one gave a shit or reconsidered their stance, so like, excuse me if once per month I write a post on my own blog venting about how imo a character I like gets a shit treatment.

and for the love of god, anon, sorry, glad you like my opinions, but the fact that you’re coming at me assuming I am judgmental when I come from a fucking month and a half of people literally harassing me on anon over my fucking triple-tagged opinions on c/ersei and lann/incest and ignoring anything I said about how uncomfortable it was making me just because I happened to, in the most generous explanation, WRITE A META WHERE I C/P-ED CANON QUOTES WHERE C. WAS AWFUL TO J. WHEN IT CAME TO HIS DISABILITY which GRRM wrote, certainly not *me*, and it happened to get reblogged by asoiafuni, is really, really rich.

like, I tagged that shit to hell and back so people who aren’t interested in jb wouldn’t find it, I made sure to warn every time, I even tag anti-c/antijc posts so they don’t show up on mobile search in case ppl don’t have the anti tag blacklisted because I’m THAT invested into making sure other people can blacklist if they feel like it, but I can’t fucking say on my blog that I think some people in this fandom pull their meta out of their asses and haven’t even read the chapters of the character they’re supposed to discuss? like... really?

also, I’ll tell you a secret: I don’t remember 90% of what happened in dany’s adwd chapters and I don’t remember about 60% of what happened in her got-asos chapters. zero. now: do you see me meta-ing about dany and/or discuss her arc if not in extremely broad terms unless asked? no, because while I don’t particularly like her, I also don’t think it’d be fair for me to meta about her BECAUSE IF I DON’T REMEMBER HER CHAPTERS THEN I’D BE PULLING OPINIONS OUT OF MY ASS, and I don’t go judging anyone’s opinion re dany beyond the basics because mine is that her chapters are so boring I can’t even remember them. at most I’ll discuss the show version and I can swear to you that even if I’m not a fan or anything I’m still more lenient with her than about 90% of people who aren’t fans, and since I don’t pull meta out of my ass for people whose chapters I haven’t read, I would be extremely grateful of the rest of this fandom paid jon connington the same damn bloody effort, especially when he has TWO of them and hating on him that way is like... why would you, just ignore his fucking existence and let us ten ppl into him have a decent tag.

btw, the ONE time I dared say on a post that wasn’t tagged to hell and back to avoid people finding it ‘it’s kind of hypocritical that people fight themselves over bi!CHARACTER headcanons *because asoiaf doesn’t have lgbt POV CHARACTERS* when they ignore jonc exist and he actually is an lgbt pov character so maybe it’d be nice if they cared about the rep’, I got someone like WELL HE ISN’T LGBT REP ENOUGH, and on the other side I’ve had people actually giving me shit for liking him/writing him content because I’m straight so how do I dare writing a gay dude, and like, idk, since I can’t like him in peace in that sense, can the universe allow me to at least not see bullshit on the tag or is that too much to ask?

and to end this rant: anon, not to be that person, but fyi I’m hardly the person who dictates how the wind flies in this fandom unless we count maybe theon/robb fandom as a ship, my opinions aren’t nearly as popular as opinions belonging to ppl who imvho don’t read these books and that’s fine, I don’t particularly care beyond cultivating my garden as voltaire used to say and see if anyone else wants to come and see the flowers and in case they’re more than free to take some, but like...... the idea that me expressing an opinion about the fact that people in this fandom don’t use the same standards when judging characters and some haven’t read the book or forgot it and assume they know anyway is somehow being high and mighty when I also don’t tag that shit 99% of the time (with jonc I do it just because I know no one but me and ten other ppl goes on that tag) when there’s people in this fandom who outright deny what’s written black on white and actually literally harass you on anon for it when I can 100% swear to you that the only times I’ve gone on anon in my entire life were for a) memes that required being on anon, b) sending people headcanon requests, c) sending people I ALREADY KNEW and who KNEW IT WAS ME personal things that I didn’t want ppl to attach to me because I don’t owe 100% of my life history to tumblr dot com and I always put my face to my opinions.

like, glad you like my opinions, but honestly, if you think this is me being judgmental, fair enough but maybe I’m also tired of having to read stuff that’s based on not having fucking read the book.

thank you.

[thewildheroine]

Fly Away |Eight|

Warnings: Language, PTSD fight response/ flashback.

Words: 2791

Pairing: Peter Parker x Reader (Slow Burn)

A/N: Guys I am so sorry this took such a long time. (A couple of MONTHS to be exact). I feel so bad for not writing any of Fly Away for such a long time. To be honest I fell out of the habit of writing in general and it took me such a long time to be motivated to do anything again.

As I mentioned last time I will be having the main develope platonic relationships with the other Avengers so sadly there isn’t any Peter in this chapter. There will, however, be a lot of him in part nine.

|Masterlist|

|Part Six| |Part Seven| |Part Nine|

I knit furiously fast. So fast in fact that I think the needles will break from the sheer frustration behind each move. They click together as I pass the yarn over the tips and yank on them as lightly as possible to make sure the stitch is tight.

Sixteen days. For sixteen days I have been stuck here in this stupid Avenger’s facility, knitting with the absolutely random supplies they had given me and repeatedly throwing a rubber ball against the wall. After I was told to stop by Thor’s younger brother who is currently under the custody of Doctor Strange I decided to begin knitting.

I hate Loki. With every tired and aching bone in my body, I despise him. He always makes the snarkiest comments, talking about how I’m a prisoner just like him. How I use children’s tricks. Tricks. Fucking tricks. Most of his magic is composed of tricks and illusions. At least I know sorcerer magic. At least I am an actual sorceress. He just brags about turning into a damn snake and stabbing Thor.

Suddenly the yarn snaps and I groan angrily. The part that annoys me the most is that I am a prisoner. Once I decided to stay officially Strange immediately confiscated the sling ring I had stolen from the hunter, though I did steal it back today just for some sort of comfort. Now I’m not even allowed to go grab my clothes or go to school. They’ve been calling me out for the past two weeks.

At this point, the only reason my grade is still thriving is because every day after school Peter brings me all the work and notes from throughout our day. Then I have to do it which gives us little to no time to actually talk. It’s absolute agony.

I moan and fall to my side, making my bed bounce a bit. The only reminder I have that there is even a world out there inside of base besides Peter is my window which looks out on the courtyard. Some days I hate the reality of it all though. The reality that the real world is out there, and I’m being kept from. It bothers me so much that I tint the windows so that any and all light is shut out from my room.

I’m safe though. Shut off but sheltered at the same time. I miss it all though, even if I hated most people the world has in it. I miss the rain, even though it seemed to have held grudges against me for no apparent reason. I miss talking in person with Ned and Peter and May. I miss the little freedom I used to have out in the world, even if I was in danger. There are forces out there though that makes it so everyone is safer when I’m in here.

“Y/N?” I hear a quiet voice and don’t answer. A second passes and I hear a knock. I sigh to myself and reply numbly, throwing my needles to the ground and turning to the window so I won’t be forced to look at whoever enters.

The tint on the glass slowly fades away so it seems as if I’m actually enamored by the line of trees in the distance. Subconsciously though I’m listening to the soft pat of their shoes on the floor. Shoes. That takes out a few people. Clint for sure is no longer in the running, which is actually a little disappointing. I know that Steve always takes off his shoes. Probably being polite or something American. I don’t know.

Bucky never initiates a conversation with me unless I seem happy enough. Thor is usually far, far more abrupt and I have a doubt he would’ve waited as long as whoever this is after first asking to come in. Loki would’ve pissed me off by now. Natasha would’ve sat at the end of my bed. Banner works until one in the afternoon and had asked Strange to help him out in some “doctory” sort of way. That leaves me with one person who is actually at the base today as far as I know.

“What do you want Stark?” I mumble placidly.

“I’m surprised you realized it was me pretty quick,” he says. “Last time you refused to look at me when I came in it took you what, thirty more seconds.”

“Well that was the first couple days,” I tell him whilst numbly picking at my cuticles. “Now I’ve picked up on everyone's habits, routines, relationships. All that jazz.” When there’s a pause I take a peek at him. Tony’s leaned up against my wall, staring out of my window as well.

“That’s weird.” I roll my eyes so much that by the time I’ve finished I’m looking back out of the window.

“You haven’t answered my question,” I murmur.

“How can you stand just looking out of the window all day long?” he asks me. I groan and drop my head into my soft pillow. “It’s so bright in here. You could probably turn off at least one light.”

“Stark…”

“It may help with your Salem witch type stuff.”

“STARK!”

We’re both a little startled by my outburst. Tony looks stunned for a moment before quickly recovering and going back to being his normal, composed self. Outside I see the shadow of someone waiting to see if they should come in. By the broadness of their shoulders I can tell that it’s most likely Steve. He’s really the only one who would be willing to interfere to keep an argument from occurring too.

“Look kid, I just think it would be a good idea for you to get out of this room.”

“Don’t call me kid.” I begin to fume a bit at the sheer frustration of all of this. Being trapped. Being treated like a child. I prefer being called a prisoner far more than being called a fucking kid.

“Just go,” I assert before I even have the chance to let my emotions completely boil over. Even though I know my expression reads as calm I look down at my hands and see red smoke pouring over my palm and fingertips. I automatically ball them up into fists, causing a big puff of smoke to come out. Luckily Tony doesn’t seem to notice.

This has never happened before, and I’ve experienced a lot when it comes to magic. Whatever this is has never happened to me, nor have I ever studied in all more years of learning about the mystical arts. I pray silently that it may just be my aura overflowing. An overflowing aura isn’t common, but it is possible. Though I haven’t ever heard about it being so obvious.

“Y/N-”

“LEAVE!” I scream at him. A burst of air flows in from behind me and throws Tony a little off balance. The main reason he stumbles isn’t because of the wind though. I see what really throws him off balance in my reflection.

Black veins splinter from my eyes and down my face. They make my skin look as if it has shattered. I have to swallow down a gasp before composing myself. With a thought, their presence on my face is covered up by an Asgardian illusion and it has faded from Tony’s memory. Now all he remembers is me shouting at him.

“Hey,” I turn around to see who has walked in. Much to my surprise, the shadow’s owner wasn’t Steve, but Bucky, who now stands awkwardly in the doorway.

“Is everything alright?” Both Tony and I look away from each other. I cast my gaze over to the window and he just stares at Bucky.

“It’s nothing to worry about.” Even though I wish for the both of them to leave, only Tony sullenly escape. Not before raising his hand to my shoulder reluctantly though. His fingertips weren’t even allowed to apply the apologetic touch when I scooted away from him.

Bucky and I remain silent for an uncomfortable amount of time. I can hear him shuffle a bit before stepping forward, where Tony once was.

“Tony’s right you know,” he tells me. “You shouldn’t coop yourself up.” I laugh ruefully at the irony of it.

“Oh wow. Now that I know I’m so excited to go for a long, clarifying walk through the living room,” I joke. “Maybe I’ll even go on an adventure into the foyer. I can’t wait.” I’m surprised to see the crack of a smile on Bucky’s lips. He shakes his head at my sarcasm, all while seemingly trying to hold back a chuckle.

“You know what I mean,” Bucky replies.

“Of course,” I murmur back. “I just- I don’t like talking to people. It’s nothing against them, I just get this feeling while I’m talking to you guys. I feel like I’m going to crawl out of my skin. Wait, it actually is something against Loki.” Bucky nods knowingly. “Speaking of, why the hell is he even here?”

“If I had been here longer and had more power in the Avengers I would tell you.” His grin turns into something sincere. “I’d also make sure you were able to go outside, but I don’t.” I sigh and rub my eyes. It’s much less comforting knowing someone wants me to have some freedom rather than thinking everyone wants me on house arrest.

“Thanks for the solace Bucky,” I tell him. “Didn’t make me feel better but you know- it’s something at least.” Bucky nods for a moment until stopping suddenly, capturing an idea floating around in his head.

“How about this?” he starts. “Let’s do some hand to hand fighting.” I immediately scowl at the suggestion and go back to sullenly looking out of my window. “It will help with your frustration,” Bucky keeps trying to persuade me.

“I made this clear when I first got to this place. No training and no diet.”

“It’ll be good for you,” Bucky reassures. “Anyways if you train hard enough you may be able to beat Loki in a fight.” My scowl effortlessly turns into a glare as I slowly turn to look Bucky in the eyes.

“I’m already able to beat that emo antelope in a fight.” Bucky shrugs numbly.

“I have no real proof that you’re telling me the truth.” I know there’s only one way to show him.

“Ready?” Bucky asks me. The whole time we were walking down here there was a huge smile plastered on his face. By now I’ve realized he’s already won by even managing to drag me out of my room. I wouldn’t have been surprised if there was a silent wager between everyone as to who could get me to do something besides look out my window in an angsty sort of way.

Now he’s managed to do the impossible. Bucky has gotten me into the training room, and all because he said I may not be as good as Loki. So I’m standing here now, still in my jeans and t-shirt, facing Bucky who’s stance itself is intimidating.

“You’re sure it’s okay if I use magic?” I ask nervously looking down at my hands where the red smoke still falls between my fingertips. “I really don’t want to hurt you.” Bucky scoffs.

“I’m a super soldier with a vibranium arm. I have a feeling I’ll be fine.” I nod and shake my head. My father always said to never go into a fight feeling any sympathy towards my opponent. He would say a tsunami shows no mercy to the coast. That was of course before he left me in the woods to fend for myself during Winter break when I was eight going on nine. A late birthday gift I would assume

“Okay,” I agree weakly.

All of the sudden Bucky jumps towards me, and I have to fall to the ground to avoid his grasp. I’m only given a second to stand back up and face him again. My heart is palpitating in my chest only in the way it did when my father would force me to fight him in the mirror dimension.

Just at the memory of it, I freeze up. Bucky doesn’t move either. He watches as my hands begin to shake wildly and my slow breathing turns into hyperventilating. I can’t even move as Bucky worriedly steps up to me.

That is until he raises his hand to my shoulder. Then my instincts from a decade of training kick in and I grab his arm, using his momentum against him and slamming him into the ground. I can tell that some magic had flowed into me to help, but most of it was just automatic. All because of my father.

I wait patiently for Bucky to stand up but then I throw another punch and he catches it in his hand. To my luck, it isn’t the metal one.

My fists don’t stop flying though. For some reason, it feels like I’ve been put in the backseat of my own mind and there is no driver anymore. Every action I take is done on impulse now. Bucky isn’t holding back anymore though like I thought he would. Now he’s fighting, fighting. His movements are completely defensive and I finally comprehend I’m on the offense now.

Every punch I throw gets harder and harder. I feel my hands getting hotter from the heat emitting from them and I feel like they are going to abruptly combust. Every atom in my body wants to stop fighting Bucky. Despite my feeling physically and mentally drained, my body continues moving without my permission. Beads of sweat drip down my face on onto my shirt. They’re the only sort of relief I get.

Only when I suddenly have Bucky’s arm twisted around his back do I back away from him.

“What the hell?” I mumble, frightened by myself. Each of my hands is not only leaking red mist but dripping with blood. Or maybe it’s just an impossibly, incredibly well-concentrated aura.

I look up to check and see if maybe the fluid is Bucky’s but I’ve done no harm to him besides bruise and put the soldier into a state of shock.

“Y/N you need to calm down before you pass out,” he lifts his hands harm slowly as to not alarm me. I do my best to slow down my breathing.

“What happened to me?” I tuck my hands into my chest to try and halt the liquid and smoke. The red water, or at least I’m hoping it’s water, drips down my shirt, staining it

“You had a fight response,” he tells me. “A really bad one. It’s okay though Y/N. I get them too.” I shake my head and run my fingers through my hair.

“Why?” My voice quivers and I have to work extra hard to keep tears slip down my face.

“You’re the only one who knows the answer Y/N.” Surprising the both of us I back away to the door and slink out. Luckily Bucky knows not to follow me, and anyone who tries to talk to me as I make my way across the base is consequently ignored.

My father once had me fight someone besides himself in the mirror dimension. A woman with a kind face, no taller than my dad. My father reminded me that she meant nothing to me. We weren’t connected in any way. That, I could feel myself.

Then he told me my challenge was to run a knife through her heart. At first I refused, but my dad told me he could heal her so she would live. He reassured that she would only feel it for a second.

Naively I obliged him as I always did. I listened to him and charged towards the woman who never once moved. Only when it was too late did I realize something was wrong.

I saw the look in her eyes. The terrified, helpless eyes of a teenage girl, who was old as I am now. It disappeared though as soon as I plunged my knife into her heart, killing her instantly. She never even fought back nor did she bother run. The girl was just as frozen as I was. The only release she had was when I released her from this life and she slumped forward onto my blade. It was then that I realized it wasn’t a fight, but an execution.

“Now you know death Y/N,” my father whispers to me in the secrecy of my room. “Death is apart of you now, just as much as I am. You will become death.” I whip around wildly to look at him, but he isn’t here. Just like always.

Suddenly, feeling too trapped I reach under my mattress and yank out the sling ring I managed to keep hidden from Strange. The window is quickly replaced by a portal and I step through.

[minzy-yuy]

Holy Grounds

Pairing: Sabriel with ending hints of Destiel

Summary: Coffee Shop AU. Everyone living normal lives

A/N: I haven't written a fanfiction since 2009. I’ve been mostly roleplaying so forgive me, I’m slowly getting back into it. I feel like it was somewhat rushed but for my first fanfiction in years I’m happy with it.

Words:  1894

Warnings: No smut or anything just fluff.

Mornings were always slow, why did they open so early on a Sunday? Monday through Saturday was always their busiest so they really should have opened later. "Cassie come try this!" A voice called from the back the short dark brown-haired male sighed a bit before walking into the back as he watched the short blonde working at a stainless-steel counter whisking something in a bowl. "What is it, Gabriel?" He asked an eyebrow raised as he peeked inside the bowl. It looked like a normal whipped chocolate so Castiel wasn't really sure what he was supposed to taste. Gabriel moved to grab a spoon as he scooped a little onto the small metal spoon then handed it to Cas. "Tell me what you think Cassie. It's a chocolate substitute."

 "Is this because of that guy that comes in? He won't eat your sweets because and I quote 'they are bad for you' so you are trying to find a new mixture so he will have more than the black cup of coffee?" Cas spoke as he sighed before grabbing the spoon so Gabriel would stop waving it in his face. Hm, it wasn't as sweet as he would like but honestly, it wasn't half bad as he licked the spoon. "It is good. I am sure he will like it." He handed the spoon back which just ended up tossed in the sink, though Cas wasn't sure what he was expecting as he walked out from the back. Grabbing a cloth on the way, he might as well clean to pass the time.

 Cas had just finished placing the books and magazines away when Gabriel proudly announced that his masterpiece was done, which almost caused the blue-eyed male to roll his eyes. Standing up as he walked over to the counter seeing Gabriel pull out a card as he wrote something down before placing it in front of the cupcakes. "Heavenly coco cakes? Really Gabriel?" "This place is called Holy Grounds what did you expect?" Castiel really rolled his eyes at that before shaking his head, his older brother was too much sometimes that was for sure. "Alright if that is what you want to call them," Cas spoke as he moved back over to the shelves so he could continue to clean up and leave the counter to his brother.

 "Welcome," Cas spoke from the corner when he heard the chime of the door sound, indicating someone walked in. "Well hiya, tall stuff," Gabriel spoke which cause Cas to roll his eyes unable to stop himself. His brother was something else that was for sure. "You looking for your usual? I also made something new. Completely healthy just for you. On the house of course." Gabriel spoke as he poured the coffee into the large cup placing the top onto the cup. Grabbing a napkin as he grabbed one of the cupcakes before placing both on the counter in front of the customer a slight smirk on his lips. "So, what's a guy gotta do to get a date with a tall glass of water like yourself?"

 Loud coughs could be heard and a slight muffle of 'poor customer'. Gabriel most certainly wasn't subtle that was for sure. "Straight to the point I see. We don't even know each other's name." The tall customer spoke, his brown eyes looking at the cupcake debating whether it would be worth the possible sugar rush that would come with such a confection. Against his better judgment, he moved to take a small bite, finding that such a combination worked quite well with each other. "Come now let's get past those first name bases and straight to my bed," Gabriel spoke which earned a loud groan from Cas at how badly this was going. Of course, the customer didn't seem to mind as it had him laughing.

 "I'll think about it, Gabriel." The customer spoke thanking him for the coffee and cupcake before heading out hearing that door chime as Cas looked over at his brother who slumped against the countertop, "I'm in love." The blonde whined out as the brown-haired male made a slight gagging noise. "To each their own," Cas spoke as he walked to the counter. "You don't even know his name. You couldn't even ask him that."

 "Can you blame me? That man is built like a god. Hmm, just want to strip him right out of that suit."

 "I am now slightly disturbed. Get back to work."

 "Wo! Who's the boss again Cassie?"

 "Sometimes I wonder."

 The next few days were busy the constant flow of people from the nearby business buildings were enough to keep most people busy. It didn't help that every time tall, mysterious and handsome came in Gabriel had to spend more time than needed flirting with the dark-haired man. Plus, Cas was pretty sure Gabriel was trying to rob the cradle so to speak. Though Cas was at least somewhat happy for Gabriel, his brother had finally been able to find out the mystery man's name. He was tired of hearing the nicknames though. They were all bad. Sammy, Sam the Man, Sasquatch, Man that causes raging boner. "What do you think our couple name should be?"

 "You are not even dating him, he's turned down every advance you can come up with."

 "Psh, I am not out of the game yet," Gabriel spoke as he walked into the back he had to make another batch of cakes since they ran out. Cas moved to start cleaning the now empty tables before he suddenly jumped when he heard Gabriel yell, "Sabriel! That shall be our couple name!"

 "I'm not listening to you, Gabriel!" Cas spoke as he went back to cleaning the tables hearing Gabriel going on about Sam and how they would make adorable babies. Cas wasn't even going to tell Gabriel that the male body was incapable of such things as he was pretty sure his brother wouldn't be listening anyway.

 "Sammy!" Gabriel said happily as he smiled like he was given the greatest gift from God. "Don't call me that." The brown-haired male spoke as he heard Cas apologize for Gabriel since the blonde most likely wouldn't be apologizing anytime soon. "Hey, go on a date with me and maybe I'll call you something else," Gabriel spoke as he smiled at the taller male. He clearly was too infatuated with this tall drink of water. Ugh, Gabriel was far too thirsty for this man. "Gabriel, no," Sam spoke his brown eyes looked at the blonde before asking for his coffee. "Ugh, you only love me for my coffee," Gabriel whined as Sam couldn't help but chuckle, "Perhaps." Paying for the coffee as he thanked Gabriel before walking out.

 "Why are you denying me! My beautiful piece of caramel marshmallow!"

 "I would deny y-urk!" A cleaning cloth to the face was not the most glorious feeling that is for sure. Cas sighed as he moved to pull the cloth from his face giving his brother a look. Deciding, for now, it was best to ignore him and get back to his work.

 Hours turned into days, days turned into weeks, weeks turned into months. Soon Cas was on the verge of pulling out his hair. "Please, please I beg you. I cannot take any more of the flirting. The stupid names he calls you." Cas spoke as he looked at Sam with pleading blue eyes. "Please take pity on me and just go out on one date."

 "Actually, I was going to ask if Gabriel would be free tonight for dinner," Sam spoke as Cas seemed almost too happy to hear such words leaving this man’s lips. "Gabriel! Get out here! Cas yelled as he soon watched the blonde walk out from the back munching happily on a chocolate chip cookie. Though upon seeing Sam he quickly wiped his mouth. " Sammy! I didn't know you were here." He had been leaning up in the back and missed the other even showing up how terrible of him. He would need to come up with a good flirt.

 "You free tonight for dinner? They just put in a new Italian place that I heard was good." Sam spoke completely stunning Gabriel into silence. Two months’ worth of flirting and Gabriel didn't even think that this would ever happen. Gabriel wasn't even sure he could get the words out as he nodded his head. "Good. I'll see you here at 6. We can walk together." Sam spoke as he walked out.

 Cas rolled his eyes when Gabriel almost screamed in happiness. Cas made Gabriel leave so he could get himself nice for this date of his. He didn't mind closing up the store and at this point, anything to get Gabriel away was a slight plus. He did hope that Sam was at least somewhat interested in his brother. Gabriel deserved that much at least.

 "I have to admit. I honestly didn't think you would finally agree to a date." Gabriel spoke as he moved to sit down at the table. "Well, you were very persuasive," Sam spoke as Gabriel chuckled at that a smirk on his lips knowing that it was true two months’ worth of flirting and asking Sam out on a date was probably bound to actually work. "A man who is good at baking isn't half bad either," Sam spoke as Gabriel laughed unable to help himself really. This man was adorable if Gabriel thought he was in love before he was head over heels in love now. The more Sam talked the more Gabriel was losing himself, finding that this man was finishing up school to be a lawyer. He had a brother as well, not as many as Gabriel had but one that was just as protective. Gabriel talked about Cas and how he took care of him. His older brothers being giant jerks who sometimes needed to be slapped around. "I must admit, I'm having a great time. And that I wish it didn't have to end." Gabriel spoke as he frowned a bit before feeling Sam's hand against his cheek which he happily leaned into. "Well how about we do this again. Next week?" Sam asked as Gabriel made a sound in the back of his throat. "I've got you now. I'm not about to let go." Gabriel moved as he leaned up on his toes as he kissed Sam on the lips he knew he was taking a risk but when he felt the taller male kiss him back he couldn't have been happier. Pulling back as he smirked a bit. "So... I'll see you tomorrow for your coffee? On the house, you know. You are dating the owner." Gabriel spoke as he heard his phone ping. Pulling it out as he noticed it was a text from Cas.

 'Gabriel there is a man here yelling for you. Something about trying to get into his brother's pants?'

 Gabriel couldn't help but laugh as he placed it back into his pocket he would deal with that later. Gabriel moved to kiss Sam once again before pulling back. "Sleep tight Sam the man." He teased as they both said their goodnight walking away as Sam's phone pinged as well.

 'Sam... How do I know if I might be bi?'

[s-asuke]

SasuSaku Month 2017 - Day 3 - Chemistry

SasuSaku Month 2017 – Day 3 – Chemistry AU in which the Hyuuga were somehow infected / harmed by Kaguya and their Byakugan is weakened. Yuuno Hyuga is an OC. I think Bout this becoming a multi-chap story. If you would like it to become one, send me a request, PM or just simply reply to this post!! Feedback is love!! Warnings: mild nsfw (Sasu's thirsty ass is my thirsty ass ok) "Sometimes you just gotta relax, yeah? And we have so many missions lately, so just being at the onsen with you, Sai and Sakura-chan would be ideal, watcha think?" His favorite moron was waing four golden-lined cards at him, his Sharingan nearly wanting to shoot a few black flames at the annoying cards. Ah, destiny was so cruel. Naruto Uzumaki just told him that the Rokudaime has ordered Sasuke, and the rest of the Team 7, to go to hot springs and relax. Fucking impossible, Sasuke ponders, all the while staring at the jelly he was supposed to eat. "C'mooon, teme, it would be pretty good for us! We haven't had a vacation since the war!" Sasuke doesn't say anything to the comment that jabs his heart. "Naruto, don't be an idiot. We have a lot of work. And just because I healed Neji, and the main family does not mean we can lay back and relax!" Naruto's cheerful expression visibly falls, but gets back up quick, not minding Sasuke's stern demeanor. His strict, grayish eyes, color watered down by tiredness, stare at the blue, whose are nearly scared? Sasuke softens, recognizing the fear that Naruto's orbs held – the aftermath of war was almost as terrifying as the war itself. Kaguya cast a rather potent jutsu that manifested quickly – a month after the war. Only Byakugan users were in danger – and so it seemed only a Sharingan could heal them. Which made Sasuke get out of the prison pronto, since not even Tsunade could heal this one. Their discovery of his possibly life-saving kekkei genkai was made with a help of the most revolting person. Orochimaru edo-tenseied Madara Uchiha, the only Uchiha privy to all nooks and crannies of any doujutsu. The man had a few exausting, snarky and sarcastic sessions with Sasuke – having only heard of the issue in legends and myths of his clan. At last with much bitching (they just had to summon Hashirama so he'd calm the man down, he didn't hear the end of it) Sasuke was explained with much emotional pain from Madara's side how the only special ability he had ever seen to a Mangekyou Sharingan were the ones the user could develop aside the original three; ones like Kamui and his younger brother Izuna's Healing eye, which could heal and nurture any kind of disability and disease. The only irony laying in the predicament of him not being able to heal himself. Madara said that on a whim, it could cause people to even lose memory, and since those abilities were all passed down to Sasuke by blood. Madara was very well acquainted with what Sasuke could do (he seen it in war and he had a peek at the family tree). "Hmph." The rowdy haired man would note, Sharingan passing over the scrolls. "What," Sasuke became rather impatient as of now. "It says here, that you are related to Obito Uchiha." "And?" Sasuke hides his annoyance by the fact. "That means you are related to me, too." Dead serious, Madara waits for a reaction from the younger Uchiha. "His grandmother was my illegitimate daughter. I didn't know she existed until I met Obito. And that, Sasuke, means," he traces the line that intwines with other Uchiha, passes crossings and other details until it lands on Fugaku Uchiha, "that you are my great-great-great, many greats, grandchild. Did someone from the clan continue with a specific powerful Mangekyou Sharingan?" Sasuke answers quickly, leaving no room for any remark,"Father had a Mangekyou. He was hiding it, so the clan wouldn't force him to use it to control the Kyuubi." "Only a weak leader would allow his followers to dictate him. That's straight-out moronic." Ignoring Madara and his own clear bout of rage, Sasuke continues. "There was also Shisui of the Teleportation, he had an amazing Body Flicker Tehnique, and only Ita- my brother could match him in genjutsu. He also had a particular tehnique which he had done with his Mangekyou, Kotoamatsukami, he could manipulate a person's mind and make it seem as if the decisions he would implant in their brain were their own. My brother had a Mangekyou, and had extraordinary abilities even as a young boy. That's all." "Ooh. Would you look at that; Shisui was Kagami's boy. I bet that he inherited the Amatsukami from him. Or a variation thereof. It doesn't matter, even if the kid would be interesting to fight," Madara muses, fingers languidly passing the scrolls, ignoring Sasuke's questioning gaze. "Is your brother the one who slaughtered the entire clan with Obito's help and joined Akatsuki?"asks without raising his head from the scroll. "Aa." Sasuke's dry remark doesn't put Madara off, and Sasuke was prepared to talk about uncomfortable things. "Interesting." It's silent for a bit, and then he asks something very weird. "What about your mother? Mikoto Uchiha? Did she awaken her Mangekyou?" "Hn. I have no knowledge of such a thing." "I suspect that she has." "And how did you come to such a conclusion?" Sasuke is sceptic, but Madara mentions nothing of it. "This person, Naori Uchiha, is related to her through here, and she also has the blood of my mother's sister. My mother had a great fighting power, and I even suspect she has awakened her Mangekyou before me. Your mother had a healing prowess or something?" "Not that I know of." "Very well then. I am about to teach you a very taxing healing technique, assuming that Orochimaru has taken my eyes post-war." "How can you assume such a thing?" "It's too great of a power for him to possess, at this point. He has my Rinnegan, probably both. Since they have mutated and I am dead, I have no use for them. You will absorb them rather simply: like you do jutsu. Then come back here since we have no time to waste." "Sasuke. I am... grateful. You know I am. But..." "Ugh, fine! I will come!" "Yas! I knew you would admit defeat, 'ttebayo!" Naruto shouts triumphantly, pumping his fist in the air, shoving Sasuke sideways in the process. "HEY! NARUTO!" "Heh, heh, sorry, Sasuke..." "You will be!" = It's a lonely night, as always, in the small complex Sasuke lives in. He is plagued by thoughts – a thing far more terrifying than any jutsu. Breathes in. Out. In again. Numerous times just thinking about the action... and the house feels vastly big and lonely... Somebody's voice he wishes to hear, somebody's heartbeat he wants to sleep on... he despises himself for it, but his dreams just aren't safe when he doesn't sense another person breathing, fighting, yielding, relaxing, dreaming, sighing, saying, 'Sasuke-kun, did you put away the food? The bread will go stale if you don't...', voice like a ring, small and everpresent, orbiting around him like a navigated fireball, the kind his mother liked to show him and Itachi when they were kids. "Sasuke Uchiha-san." From his sofa in the living room, he can hear them: two ex-ANBU, now Jounin, looking to take him to the Hokage's. He doesn't expect himself to be so fast as he readied his clothes and his headband, a wave of nostalgia shooting through him as his chakra flares. They are there quickly – Kakashi's silent and tired silhouette welcoming them wearily, Sasuke finding the literal sunshine emanating off the people awaiting annoying. And, well, endearing. Sakura's pink, now slightly longer hair that is the lead role in his wildest dreams and nightmares is in a braid, the toned muscle she has covered by a thin summer dress, no trace of her headband. The summer dress was so light and tight, it made him want to sallivate. "Here he is, all ready for a mission. Didn't I tell you we might have some problems with him, Kakashi-sensei?" "Well you must have mentioned," the silver-haired Hatake smirks underneath the mask, favoring the presence of his former students plus Sai. Naruto's comments are only natural to Sasuke, so he gives no reaction. "Naruto, this is a mission, after all. A mission of you four relaxing!" Good-naturedly putting his hands on his hips as he stands up from his chair, Kakashi looks over each of them. "Sai doesn't even know what the word vacation means... Sasuke thinks it's a tropical animal probably. God knows you need one, Sakura... and as for you, Naruto..." trailing off, as if not knowing whether he is finding a good word or not, he coughs up a bile,"we all know you deserve one." "Hurrah!" Loud exclamating of the blonde moron positively burst Sasuke's eardrums, he wonders what did he do to deserve this. But, in a second, he doesn't like the answer to the question. "Sakura-chan, Sai, Sasuke! Let's go to the hot baths and have a vacation like never before!" = Somehow, Sasuke is content. The futons they sleep on in the beautifully furnished inn are warm and comfortable, and he only remembers that the comfort of his own bed could rival it. So why does he fucking avoid it like plague? Because he is already plagued. Shit got real the night he finally realized that Sakura's hair is the softest fucking thing, that she reads him like a book, knowing how he breathes, all the things he hates (there's too many), how he doesn't like to eat ramen if it isn't with Dobe, or her. How he can't tolerate his eyes being nearly boiled out of his skull while Hyuga fucking Yuuno is worried about her ponytail. The utmost respect and damn near adoration for her skill and passion for medical ninjutsu, loyalty to the quite annoying person who has taught it to her, and all the nights he would make his small patrols to find her under the light of a candle, reading yet another scroll on headaches and how to remedy those caused by Rinnegan of all things, and it's their little secret. There is the second type of plague. When he can't stop thinking about how warm her eyes are, and how aflame they would be if he just sucked on her most secret place, there, in the crook of her inner things, and he would sigh, because she'd be all warm and wet and- Crap. He earned himself a hard-on. He thought of her as a specific kind of medication one couldn't take a little more than just prescribed, because if they did – he would be addicted. Like the heady scent of chemicals – so inviting, but capable of doom. He would take not the prescribed amount – he would take so much his doctor would scream at him to stop. And he would like to make her scream soon.