#took me hours to break it free; it had resorted to leaving like 2 roots at the very border of the pot so it could get a shred of water

[berryblu-soda]

im not insane for wanting to start tomatoes by this time of year i think, winter temps hit late december/ early january and the absolute lowest is like 10c, i trust them o7

[rigmarolling]

Historical Holiday Traditions We Really Need To Bring Back

Here comes Santa Claus, and also a bunch of annual holiday Things we do to ensure he commits a truly boggling act of breaking and entering and leaves goods underneath the large plant in the living room.

Because I’ve always got a hankerin’ for the days of yore, here are some historical holiday traditions we really need to bring back:

1. Everything that happened on Saturnalia

Saturnalia was the ancient Roman winter festival held on December 25th--which is why we celebrate Christmas on that day and not on the day historians speculate Jesus was actually born, which was probably in the spring. 

Saturnalia was bonkers. As the name suggests, it celebrated the god Saturn, who represented wealth and liberty and generally having a great time.

Above: Their party is way cooler than yours could ever hope to be.

During Saturnalia, masters would serve their slaves, because it was the one day during the year when everybody agreed that freedom for all is great, actually, let’s just do that. Everyone wore a coned hat called the pilleus to denote that they were all bros and equal, and also to disguise the fact that they hadn’t brushed their hair after partying hard all week, probably.

Gambling was allowed on Saturnalia, so all of Rome basically turned into ancient Vegas, complete with Caesar’s Palace, except with the actual Caesar and his palace because he was, you know. Alive. 

The most famous part (besides getting drunk off your rocker) was gift-giving--usually gag gifts. Historians have records of people giving each other some truly impressive white elephant gifts for Saturnalia, including: a parrot, balls, toothpicks, a pig, one single sausage, spoons, and deliberately awful books of poetry. 

Above: Me, except all the time.

Partygoers also crowned a King of Saturnalia, which was a predecessor to the King of Fools popular in medieval festivals. The king was basically the head idiot who delivered absurd commands to everyone there, like, “Sing naked!” or “run around screaming for an hour,” or “slap your butt cheeks real hard in front of your crush; DO IT, Brutus.”

Oh, wait. Everyone was already doing all that. Hell yes.

(Quick clarification: early celebrations of Saturnalia did feature human sacrifice, so let’s just leave that bit out and instead wear the pointy hats and sing naked, okay? Io Saturnalia, everybody.)

2. Leaving out treats for Sleipnir in the hopes of avoiding Odin’s complete disregard for your property

The whole “leave out cookies and milk for Santa” thing comes from a much older tradition of trying to appease old guys with white beards. In Norse mythology, Odin, who was sort of the head god but preferred to be on a perpetual road trip instead, took an annual nighttime ride through the winter sky called the Wild Hunt. 

Above: The holidays, now with 300% more heavy metal.

Variations of the Wild Hunt story exist in a bunch of European folklore--in Odin’s case, he usually brought along a bunch of supernatural buddies, like spirits and other gods and Valkyries and ghost dogs, who, the Vikings said, you could hear howling and barking as the group approached (GOOD DOGGOS).

That was the thing, though; you never actually saw Odin’s hunt--you only heard it. And hearing it did not spark the same sense of childish glee you felt when you thought you heard Santa’s sleigh bells approaching as a kid--instead, the Vikings said, you should be afraid. Be VERY afraid.

Because Odin could be kind of a dick.

Odin was also known as the Allfather, and like any father, he hated asking for directions. GPS who? I’m the Allfather, I’m riding the same way I always ride.

And that was pretty much it: “I took this road last year and I’m taking it again this year.”

“But,” someone would pipe up from the back, “there are houses on the road now--we’re gonna run right into them. We could just take a different path; there’s actually a detour off the--”

“Nope,” Odin would say. “They know the rules. My road, my hunt, my rules. We’re going this way.”

So if you were unlucky enough to have built your house along one of Odin’s favorite road trip sky-ways, he wouldn’t just plow right past you.

He would burn your entire house down--and your family along with it.

Kids playing in the yard? Torch ‘em; they should have known better. Grandma knitting while she waits for her gingerbread Einherjar to finish baking? Sucks to be her; my road, my rules, my beard, I’m the Allfather, bitch.

Above: Santa, but so much worse.

To be fair to Odin, he could be a cool guy sometimes. He just turned into any dad when he was on a road trip and wanted to MAKE GOOD TIME, DAMN IT, I AM NOT STOPPING; YOU SHOULD HAVE PEED BEFORE WE LEFT.

To ensure they didn’t incur Odin’s road trip wrath, the Vikings had a few ways of smoothing things over with Dad.

They would leave Odin offerings on the road, like pieces of steel (??? okay ???) or bread for his dogs, or food for his giant, eight-legged horse, Sleipnir, because the only true way to a man’s heart is through his pet. 

People would generally leave veggies and oats and other horse-y things out for Sleipnir, whose eight legs made him the fastest flying horse in the world and also made him the only horse to ever win Asgard’s coveted tap dancing championship. 

(Side note: EIGHT legs...EIGHT tiny reindeer...eh? Eh? See how we got here? Thanks, nightmare horse!)

Above: An excellent prancer AND dancer. 

And if Odin was feeling particularly charitable and not in the mood for horrific acts of arson, children would also leave their shoes out for him--it was said that he’d put gifts in your boots to ring in a happy new year.

If all that didn’t work and the Vikings heard the hunt approaching, they would resort to throwing themselves on the ground and covering their heads while the massive party sped above them like a giant Halloween rager. 

So this holiday season, leave your boots out for Odin and some carrots out for his giant spider horse or you and your entire family will die in a fiery inferno, the end.

3. Yule Logs

Speaking of Scandinavia, another Northern European winter solstice tradition was the yule log. Today, if you google “yule log,” something like this will pop up:

...which isn’t an actual log, but is instead log-shaped food that you shove into your mouth along with 500 other cakes at the same time because it’s CHRISTMAS, and I’m having ME TIME; so WHAT if I ate the whole jar of Nutella by myself, alone, in the dark at 3 am?

But that log cake is actually inspired by actual logs of yore that Celtic, Germanic, and Scandinavian peoples decorated with fragrant plants like holly, ivy, pinecones, and other Stuff That Smells Nice before tossing the log into the fire.

This served a few purposes: 

It smelled nice, and Bath and Body Works scented candles hadn’t been invented yet.

It had religious and/or spiritual significance as a way to mark the winter solstice.

It was a symbolic way of ringing in the new year and kicking out the old.

Common belief held that the ashes of a yule log could ward off lightning strikes and bad energy.

Winter cold. Fire warm.

Everybody loves to watch things burn. (See: Odin.)

The yule log cakes we eat today got their start in 19th century Paris, when bakers thought it was a cute idea to resurrect an ancient pagan tradition in the form of a delicious dessert, and boy, howdy, were they right.

In any case, I’m 100% down with eating a chocolate yule log while burning an actual yule log in my backyard because everybody loves to watch things burn; winter cold, fire warm; and hnnnngggg pine tree smell hnnnnggg.

(Quick note:  The word “yule” is  the name of a traditional pagan winter festival, still celebrated culturally or religiously in modern pagan practice. It’s also another name for Odin. He had a bunch of other names, one of the most well-known being jólfaðr, which is Old Norse for “Yule father.” If you would like to royally piss him off, or if you are Loki, feel free to call him “Yule Daddy.”)

4. Upside down Christmas trees

I just found out that apparently, upside down Christmas trees are a hot new trend with HGTV types this year, so I guess this is one historical trend we did bring back, meaning it doesn’t really belong on this list, but I’m gonna talk about it, anyway.

Side note: Oh, my god, that BANNISTER. I NEED.

Historians aren’t actually sure where the inverted Christmas tree thing came from, but we know people were bringing home trees and then hanging them upside down in the living room as early as the 7th century. We have a couple theories as to why people turned trees on their heads:

Logistically, it’s way easier to hang a giant pine tree from your rafters upside down by its trunk and roots. You just hoist that baby up there, wind some rope around the rafter and the trunk, and boom. Start decorating.

A Christian tradition says that one day in the 7th century, a Benedictine monk named Saint Boniface stumbled across a group of pagans worshipping an oak tree. So, instead of minding his own damn business, he cut the tree down and replaced it with a fir tree. While the pagans were like, “Dude, what the hell?” Boniface used the triangular shape of the fir tree to explain the concept of the holy trinity to the pagans. Some versions have him planting it right-side up, others having him displaying a fir tree upside down. Either way, it’s still a triangle that’s a solid but ultimately very rude way of explaining God. Word’s still out on whether anyone was converted or just rightly pissed off that this random guy strolled into their place of worship, chopped down their sacred tree, and plopped HIS tree down instead. Please do not do that this holiday season.

Eastern Europeans lay claim to the upside-down tree phenomenon with a tradition called podłazniczek in Poland--people hung the tree from the ceiling and decorated it with fruits and nuts and seeds and ribbons and other festive doodads. 

(God, who lives in these houses? Look at that. That’s like a swanky version of Gaston’s hunting lodge. Where do I get one? Which enchanted castle do I have to stumble into to chill out in a Christmas living room like that?)

Today, at least in the West, upside-down trees are making a comeback because...I don’t know. Chip and Joanna Gaines said so. 

Some folks say it’s a surefire way to keep your cats from clawing their way through the tree and then puking up fir needles for weeks afterward, which checks out for me.

5. Incredibly weird Victorian Christmas cards

So back in the 19th century, the Christmas card industry was really getting fired up. Victorians loved their mail, let me tell you. They loved sending it. They loved getting it. They loved writing it. They loved opening it. They loved those sexy wax seals you use to keep all that sweet, sweet mail inside that sizzling envelope. (Those things are incredibly sexy. Have you ever made a wax seal? Oh, man, it’s hot.)

The problem, though, was that while the Victorians arguably helped standardize many of the holiday traditions we know and love today (Christmas trees, caroling, Dickens everything, spending too much money, etc.) back in 1800-whenever, a lot of that Christmas symbolism was, um...still under construction. No one had really agreed on which visual holiday cues worked and which...didn’t.

Meaning everyone just kind of made up their own holiday symbols. Which resulted in monstrous aberrations like this card:

What the hell is that? A beet? Is that a beet? Or a turnip? Why is it...oh, God, why does it have a man’s head? Why does the man beet have insect claws? 

What is it that he’s holding? A cookie? Cardboard? A terra cotta planter?

And then there’s this one:

“A Merry Christmas to you,” it says, while depicting a brutal frog murder/mugging. 

What are you trying to tell me? Are you threatening me with this card? Is that it? Is this a threat? How the hell am I supposed to interpret this? “Merry Christmas, hide your money or you’re dead, you stupid bitch.”

Also, why is the dead frog naked? Did the other frog steal his clothes after the murder? WHAT AM I SUPPOSED TO DO WITH THIS?

Victorian holiday cards also doubled as early absurdist Internet memes, apparently, because how else do I explain this?

Is this some sort of tiny animal Santa? A mouse riding a lobster? Like, the mouse, I get. Mice are fine. Disney built an empire on a mouse. And look, he’s got a little list of things he’s presumably going to bring you: Peace, joy, health, happiness. (In French. Oh, wait, is that that Patton Oswalt rat?)

But a LOBSTER? What’s with the lobster? It’s basically a sea scorpion. Why in the name of all that is good and holy would you saddle up a LOBSTER? I hate it. I hate it so, so much. Just scurrying around the floor with more legs than are strictly necessary, smelling like the seafood section of Smith’s, snapping its giant claws.

This whole card is a health inspector’s worst nightmare. It really is.

I gotta say, though, I am a fan of this one:

Presumably, that polar bear is going in for a hug because nothing stamps out a polar bear’s innate desire to rip your face from your skull than candy canes and Coke and Christmas spirit.

This next one is actually fantastic, but for all the wrong reasons:

I know everyone overuses “same” these days but geez, LOOK at that kid. I can HEAR it. SAME.

If you’ve ever been in a shopping mall stuffed with kids, nothing sums it up better than this card. This is like the perverse version of those Anne Geddes portraits that were everywhere in the late 90s. “Make wee Jacob sit in the tea pot; everyone will--Jacob, STOP, look at Mommy; I said LOOK. AT. MOMMY--everyone will love it.”

Actually, you know what? Every other Christmas card is cancelled. This is the only card we will be using from now on. This is it. 

Wait, no. We can also use this one:

Merry Christmas. Here’s a fuckin’...just a dead fuckin’ bird.

[rayarmat]

Fun in Snow and The Road Not Taken: Money-Time Trade-off For Happiness is Not  Linear

I often hear middle- or high-income friends and family members complain about being overworked and not having enough “time” for fun and relaxation. I think their logic is flawed because of their basic misunderstanding of the relation between “time/quantity” and “experiential/quality” of life. On a snowy day like yesterday, for example, many people were aggrieved at having to work indoors and missing the perfect sunny day outdoors, which my family and I used for downhill sledding (as shared in the pictures and video).

Often when I ask people trapped indoors why they can’t they take a half day off to enjoy the snow, they would say they have used up their vacations or time offs and cannot take an “unpaid” leave. When I ask them how they used up all the “paid time off” they often mention some costly or elaborate activity or high expenses of life. The question is why not enjoy breaks in life in smaller, lower cost doses? or even lower our baselines of expectations in life so we can live at a lower cost? It is all rooted in the circuitry of human brains.

The Addictive Reward Seeking Circuits in Human Brains: Dopamine, The “Never-Enough” Hormone 

For example, one of my former coworkers once spent $3000 on a week-long vacation to a ski resort. That was about two weeks of take-home pay for him and his wife (after tax) and about ONE YEAR of his family’s (after-tax) savings. That also used up half of his annual vacation time. Another person I know, would spend a major part of her time-off from her well-paying but grueling (indoor) job, inside shopping malls (indoors again) to shop for designer items like expensive snow boots or triple goose down winter jackets to keep her feet and body “perfectly” warm for up to 8 hours “if and when” that rare occasion arises that she can finally take the hard-earned vacation to enjoy the snow outdoors. When that ephemeral moment of joy finally arrives to enjoy life in full gear - arctic boots, jackets, Ray-Ban sunglasses and all - she would spend, like the fellow in the first example, hours driving or flying to a costly ski resort plus a good bit of her hard-earned savings and time off on a vacation which often turns out somewhat disappointing and not as dreamy or enjoyable as her perfectionist mind had imagined or planned (spent) for. Occasional head aches or back pains, stressful travel, imperfect weather, residual work stress and and the anxiety of returning to her indoors grueling job make the fleeting vacation a lot like caffeine rush and crash, high expectations and fleeting pleasure followed by disappointment and fatigue. The superwarm jacket and arctic boots now have to be stowed away in a large, very large, closet (in a large house with a high mortgage), next to other once or twice a year used items, all paid for by her, toiling away at a tiresome job.

The brain circuits pushing humans to these cycles of “rush and crash” are often controlled by a hormone called dopamine, the “not-enough” hormone involved in pleasure, reward, learning, motivation and novelty. Basically without this hormone we would not be motivated to “explore” but with too much of it we end up on slippery slopes and addictive cycles of seeking more novelties and new highs (My book will explain the mechanisms in more detail). Basically the “rush” phase of the cycle results from elevated baselines of pleasure expectation (dopaminergic reward seeking circuits in the brain) followed by a “crash” phase caused by negative prediction-errors, i.e., the experience being a lot less rewarding than imagined (hence a sharp depletion of dopaminergic energy, drive and motivation). Over time, these cycles are associated with dependence and withdrawal, the clinical hallmarks of addictive behavior. That is why the new volume of American Psychiatric Association's Diagnostic and Statistical Manual of Mental Disorders (DSM-5) now lists several new conditions such as hoarding disorder, internet gaming disorder and caffeine use disorder as psychiatric disorders or conditions recommended for further research because of their addictive nature.

The way out of these cycles is to:

1) Understand the real “reward” is the experience of joy with minimal expectations, and the real “cost” is the amount of life (work) exchanged for that joy.

2) Set our “reward” expectation baselines and set points, as well as our “cost” baselines, at low manageable levels and in small doses over time.

That is why my family and I take a different “low-cost” path to relaxation, but it needs flexibility:

1) We do not wait for the perfect week-long vacation to travel to a remote fancy resort: This allows us to be flexible and take advantage of smaller windows, 2-3 hours at a time, of great weather.

2) We enjoy taxpayer funded local natural preserves or state and public parks that are lesser known, often free and not that busy. Many are within an hour drive from our house so there is no need to spend a lot of time and money in transit, lodging, restaurant food, etc.

3) We do not wait to buy nice arctic jackets and boots because we do not need all of that on a 2-hour sledding window. Normal boots and jackets will do.

4) We do not think too much about the opportunity cost of our time (see next section). Any income we lose from not working for a few hours is offset by the money we save in staying local and flexible with our relaxation windows.

In short, we find Robert Frost very wise in The Road Not Taken: 

“I shall be telling this with a sigh Somewhere ages and ages hence: Two roads diverged in a wood, and I— I took the one less traveled by, And that has made all the difference.”

***************************** 

On The Opportunity Cost of Time and Experiential Value of Life

“It is one of those days that even my second pot of coffee is not helping!” This and many similar posts I see every day on social media signal to me a state of “fatigue”and grievance among people. But the grievance is misplaced and rooted in the way people unknowingly base their own life’s value system on the economic model first proposed by Adam Smith to quantify and allocate labor and capital resources in the new age of capitalism. Prior to that, (excess) labor, capital and know-how were not mobile or widely available to create the large-scale powerful machinery, factories and markets that capitalism created.

In Adam Smith's capitalism, a person’s unit of time (labor) is valued and quantified for the labor and productivity of that person in that unit of time. Unfortunately, many people have now adopted this market valuation of hourly labor (salary) as the baseline of how they “value” their own time and life’s worth. Their mix up experiential value of life (joy of living) with the exchange value of their time and labor. Therefore, many people now subconsciously evaluate any experience in their life (units of time on this planet) as a “cost” or what economists call an “opportunity cost,” the market value of their time.

For example, a nurse whose time is valued by the medical market at $30 an hour, would be programmed to think of an 8-hour block of her job, life and even vacation opportunities at about $240 (in lost income opportunity or opportunity cost). After all, if she had to take an unpaid day off for fun or any task or life experience, she would lose about $240. A medical doctor making about three times as much as the nurse, would value his or her time in life at a rate of $720 per 8 hours. That is why with time-consuming chores such as mowing the lawn, or taking care of an elderly parent, it is more likely that the doctor, and not the nurse, would hire help. This is because the opportunity cost (i.e., forfeited income) for the nurse, of “not” getting paid for hospital work while nursing an elderly parent at home, is less than her cost of paying someone else to nurse her parent so sh/he would nurse the parent herself. For the doctor, however, the economic calculus is very different. He comes out way ahead in terms of the opportunity cost if he can work on that day (make $720) or not use a paid vacation and instead pay someone about $240 to nurse the elderly parent or $100 to landscape and manicure his lawn.

The problem of “rush and crush” explained in the first part of the article occurs because many humans now equate ANY reward expectations in life (and dopamine baselines) with income and opportunity cost of their time (labor) in the market. Yet life’s “experiential value” cannot be quantified with market “exchange value.” For starters, there are no taxes on the joy of life (not yet). Also, how could anyone assign value to what we learn or feel through our life experiences? To the peace and health that comes with a joyful anxiety-free life?

Although some evolutionary scientists call modern human species as Homo Economicus, the economically calculating human species, Money-time trade-off for happiness is not linear. If it was, rich folks would never have to pay for love, get depressed, addicted or suicidal in an economic utilitarian system.

Our brain circuits (including those of the rich folks) have not evolved to curb our enthusiasm, excess and high reward expectation baselines. So we are prone to being regulated and controlled by the addictive “never-enough” hormone (dopamine) when we are driven by competition to set increasingly high expectations proportional to the exchange value (opportunity cost) of our time even when it comes to life outside work. This is why many people follow and worship folks who have higher (income/reward/dopamine) baselines than theirs because they equate value of a life to the exchange (market) value of that person’s time. 

***********************************************

I have learned to set modest reward expectation baselines so I do not have to measure life experiences (vital to my quality of life such as health and peace) against the exchange market value of my time (i.e., labor). For example, the opportunity cost for my two hours of sledding would be around $200 in a competitive world. But that number is now totally irrelevant to me as long as I am able to feed and house my family. Honestly, how can anyone “quantify” a “qualitative” life experience which is conducive to our health and peace? How could I even assign a market exchange (dollar) value to the joy of sledding downhill on a sunny afternoon with my family? Is it worth the $200 I lost in income (if I competed against my equals in capitalism)? or slightly more or less? Does it even matter as long as it exceeded my modest and humble expectation for a happy afternoon and dopamine baselines moderated by contentment (the hormone involved here is serotonin, which is a topic of another article). 

Perhaps nobody can summarize this article better than Jose’ Mujica, Uruguay’s former farmer President, who stepped down voluntarily after one term to attend to his flower gardens: “When you buy something, you are not paying for it with money. You’re paying with the hours of life you had to spend earning that money. The difference is that life is one thing money can’t buy.”

[revengeisalwaysanoption]

[Skam Italia] Ficlet: Flawed 2/2

And that’s it :D Again, it’s an unbetaed&unedited VERY LITTLE story I am writing to cope… I hope you will like it as well :) ! Edited to add:  I’d like to dedicate this to Ibisco and @annefraid The first, with her wonderful story (Resilience: go and read it if you understand Italian, it’s so good HERE ) I am a sucker for the boy squad taking care of Nico, so… Another reminder that THEY - both Nico AND Marti - are not alone was due ;) ! And Anne… wow, what an insight on Marti’s deep rooted insecurities in “try and evolve”! I mention them here but it’s all thanks to amazing fic for making me realize how Marti might see Niccolò!

******

Martino knows he screwed up. He isn’t that much of a ‘disaster gay’ – no matter how often Filippo (and his own friends, those jerks!!) likes to address him as such, to rile his Rose up – not to notice the way Nico’s mood plummeted as soon as he sat down at the table this morning. Regretting having to deal with how grumpy Martino can be, before he had any caffeine in him, already? That’s understandable… But quite unlikely. They aren’t really living together, yet, but they are past those petty fights. Who cared if someone seemed always to be too tired to do the dishes or to mop the floor? They never even discussed such trivial things, to be honest: taking care of Nico, making sure he lives in a spotless and tidy environment, is not a chore and Marti really doesn’t mind. Besides, they have a clashing definitions of order and totally different perceptions of how dirty the flat can get before it has to be cleaned. They easily met halfway, agreeing to let Niccolò do things his way and at his own pace, without having to talk about it.

So… if it wasn’t about Martino’s charming decaffeinated personality… What made him run for the hills? Was it something he said? It must be. Fuck. Why does his brain-to-mouth filter always fail him when he needs it the most? And yeah, there is a niggling voice in his head going like ‘You shouldn’t have to overthink every word you say, in fear you’re gonna hurt Nico or something. You should be free to be yourself, including who you are at your worst.’ but he’s not listening to that. What’s wrong with refusing to settle for the person he is now, and striving to become a gentler and more considerate one in the future? What’s so bad about Niccolò inspiring him to give it a try, at least? Nothing; you can’t change his mind. Moreover, he has to make up for the complete lack of any talent whatsoever… Like, okay, compared to Nico - who excels at everything he does, and it’s a lot- he can be dull and boring but at least he’s great at owning up to his mistakes - the whole ton of them - and learn. And it’s more that can be said for so many people out there, including dad, so… Lesson of the day: do not speak until you had your coffee, Martino, and a kiss from Niccolò so that you don’t forget how lucky you are to have this - HIM - to come home to. That no matter how awful you day is going to be - and no, you can’t really know beforehand, so stop being so damn negative and over dramatic… - there are always going those moments with Niccolò that will brighten it.

Okay? Okay. Now, let’s get back to the matter at hand. After the unfortunate comparison of an obsessive-compulsive disorder to a penchant for loving neatly written notes, and finding out that Martino still his that awful word – ‘psychopath’ – in his vocabulary… It wouldn’t be too far for Niccolò to persuade himself that he was belittling his efforts (as well as his mother’s) to get out of bed in the morning, on his darkest days. That’s not what he meant, of course.

’Well, you know none of your friends meant it when they said they wanted somebody to kill them, or that they were going to jump off a bridge because of school. They don’t do that anymore, because they know it reminds you of the bad place Nico’s mind can go sometimes… but some other classmates still throw those words around like it’s nothing, like they are really clinically depressed because their shitty most beloved show got cancelled or their favorite character died.’

That’s it: that’s exactly the point. He knows and it still hurts. It still makes him want to stand up and scream ‘SHUT UP, YOU IDIOTS! YOU KNOW NOTHING, YOU HAVE NO IDEA WHAT YOU’RE TALKING ABOUT!’ at the top of his lungs. He can’t blame Nico for being so disappointed with him that he had to leave…

Well, all this mulling and self-deprecation won’t fix anything. He’d better think how to show him that even though he quite an asshole, he never acts out of maliciousness. He might have hit where it hurt out of anger, in the past, to drive people away… He wouldn’t do it, now. Not even as a last resort. He can only hope it will be enough, for Nico.

So… What should he do next? Should he run after him? Leave him some space? Should he really let Niccolò believe that he forgot what tomorrow means for them – for Martino himself - not to spoil the surprise? He had even persuaded Sana to let him be the main speaker, for once… He had a Spotify playlist ready to play, to let Niccolò know what he cannot say with words and sometimes fails to show with his actions…

He… He has no idea, like, his brain is fuzzy static and he’s pretty sure he will start hyperventilating soon… He needs help. Yep. If there’s one thing he got out of those hell months back in 2018 is that he doesn’t have to deal with any kind of crisis alone. Luca reaches out to them when he can’t find the right outfit for his dates with Silvia, when he doesn’t know if it really would be wise to eat that last piece of sushi even though he’s about to puke… And they should be aware that Niccolò might need them as well, even though he doesn’t dare to ask.

“Marti. First thing you gotta do is calm down…” Giovanni writes in the chat, as soon as he listens to his frantic voice message. “Don’t die on us, man. Oxygen is your friend. Even if it’s being a bitch now, being so heavy and shit…” Elia adds, making him smile. “Deep breaths. In. Out. Picture yourself lying down in a field… Feel the grass. Be the grass.” Luca joins in, earning rolling-eyes emojis and thumbs down.

“Is this something you heard from Silvietta, Lu?” “Actually from our yoga teacher…” “Well, stop it because it’s making me long for some weed and we have to stay lucid and sharp here for Marti and Nico.” Giovanni says in the chat, before calling Martino. “Listen. I’ll be quick: show up at school, because we can’t do much over the phone. I know you probably want to send out a search party for Niccolò rather that sit behind a desk for so long, but you have to trust that he knows how to take care of himself and that, like any of us, simply needs a couple of hours to cool down. It’s not like you killed someone, come on…”

“Yeah, but… what if he doesn’t forgive me?” He forgave him so many times, ever since that morning in the boys’ restrooms, what if this is his breaking point? “Then it’s his problem for holding you up to impossible standards, man, not yours. Don’t even try to fight me on that. You’re my best friend, Marti, and I won’t allow anyone to talk shit about you. Not even yourself.” “I’m far…” “… from perfect? Who isn’t? And don’t say Niccolò. Nope, I hate to break it to you, but he’s some major flaws too. And so do I, and so do you, Eva, Sofia, and anyone out there. Trust me: I call you out when you’ve got your head so far up your ass that you forgot how sunlight feels like and THIS is not the case. Don’t make me come over and drag you all the way to 5B’s door.” Martino is aware that it’s just an empty threat, that Giovanni would hardly ever pressure him into anything, and yet he sighs and promises he is going to be there for nine o’clock. Perhaps, if he gets out, Niccolò will feel like it’s safe to come back…

To Nico: Leaving for school, now. Hope I’ll get to see you, later.

It takes him the whole ride to school to decide that no surprise is worth having Ni thinking he doesn’t hold dear that 11th of October, that the day he felt an immediate and unprecedented connection to a nameless boy could ever be insignificant.

To Nico: Can’t wait for you to hear what I’ve got in store for tomorrow

As he expected, Nico doesn’t get back to him. It’s fine. He can wait.

*****************************

Alright: he might have overestimated his patience. He doesn’t know how much longer he can take, before he leaves no stone in Rome unturned while looking for Niccolò.

Thankfully, he’s got a plan to stick to. Sana’s. Who will most likely make him regret the day he was born, if he steps out of line. It’s not ideal, as it relies on too many factors – Nico having his phone on, reading his text messages, being in a place where he can listen to Radio Osvaldo – but it’s the best they’ve got.

“Well, thank you, Ivano… Sharing with us how it’s life with a bipolar disorder must have been hard, but I’m sure that many of our listeners found comfort listening to how you got your happy ending with Sax… To some of us things look so bleak we don’t even see the point of anything, but your story goes to show that it does get better, when you start building bridges instead of burning them. And Martino, you must be so proud of our special guest today. A woman who was brave enough to come and talk to all of us about she is dealing with her depression. Unfortunately she had to leave early, but thank Teresa on our behalf. We hoped to have a former student of this school to conclude this special feature on Mental Health Day, as they are dealing with one of the most stigmatized illnesses… Unfortunately they couldn’t join us. If you are listening, however, remember that we’re here for you. All of us.”

“I am. My mom truly is the best. Yeah, I can hear you all groan, but that’s a fact. It took me ages to see it, so maybe you should cut your parents some slack as well. Unless they’re abusive jerks, of course. And I couldn’t be prouder of that person you just mentioned as well. They keep on being strong, kind, and compassionate in a world that constantly tries to tear them down… They- ”

“Martino, if you keep on going like that you might just as well say their name.” Sana warns him, shooting him a reproachful glare. Too bad she can’t stop him. He just realized how he can make Nico understand he treasures every second they spend together. The best and the worst.

“They are who I want to spend my life with: Niccolò Fares, will you marry me?”

“YES!!” The door barges open, he’s swept off the seat and carried to the nearest secluded corner. What the fuck? He’s not complaining, but really: what the fuck has just happened?

*****************

They would later agree that the marriage is not going to happen for another couple of years, that a proper and more romantic proposal is order from them both… and Martino finds out that while he was busy with Sana, ‘contrabbandieri’ and ‘matte’ joined forces to delve into Nico’s past. So that they could call Niccolò’s old friends to the rescue. Together they managed to locate Nico and then Gio – of course it was him: the love wizard - and Michi talked some sense into him.

“So, tell me… What exactly have you got planned?” He sounds a bit hesitant, now that the euphoria of the impromptu proposal has worn off.

“I was thinking about a tutorial on how to grow weed in your closet. Followed by a cooking show hosted by the famous chef Niccolò Fares, a ten step guide to on how to break in a deserted pool, a top five on the most romantic spots in Rome… Can’t quite decide who’s gonna get the first place, the bins had their charm but so did the toilets…”

“… well, it can’t be a fair ranking until you’ve seen my favorite spot. Come on, Marti. Keats and Shelley are waiting for us!”

“Lead the way.”

[towhoddard]

Fallout 76: a Rant

Ok. So I’ve had Fallout 76 since launch. I’ve put in roughly 50 hours (having accomplished virtually nothing of significance along the way. Or at least I’ve felt like that’s the case). I’ve played at length, got bored, took a break, played some more to give it another shot, got frustrated, took another break, played til frustration pt. 2, and so on. I played a couple hours today after another long break, quit out of frustration yet again, and have thus come to the following conclusion:

The game does not want me to succeed. The game does not want me to do the things it makes me do.

No amount of bugs, performance issues, exploits, and PR meltdowns can take precedent over the fact that 76 is just a poorly made, broken game. It’s a serious downgrade from nearly every aspect of Fallout 4, and is only at its most passable when your strictly observing the world instead of interacting with it.

Before I go any further, I’ll leave this out there: I have enjoyed a fair amount of the game. Appalachia is a strong and interesting world to wander around, and stumbling upon marked and unmarked locations and other point of interest organically is done arguably better than any of the other Bethesda Fallouts. This is really as far as my compliments go, unfortunately.

The root of the main problems I have with the game come from its extremely dumbed down, inconsistent, downright chore of a combat system.

The best strategy for nearly all combat encounters can be summed up with two approaches:

1. Run backwards and spam with a melee weapon

2. Stay far away and chip away at enemies with a rifle before having to resort back to approach #1

Since the game’s enemy variety and AI boils down to either gangs of melee enemies (ghouls, moleminers, mole rats, Mr. Farmhands, etc.) swarming you in unexplainable numbers or gangs of ranged enemies circling you with laser-like precision. It seems like the AI has been grossly simplified to where it only resorts to those two archetypes.

Humanoid characters no long take cover or try to run away. It’s like the “scorch virus” was just an excuse for the developers to dumb down raiders and other human enemies to literal flesh figures barely holding on to weapons that don’t even correspond with the loot you may or may not get from them. Super Mutants are only a slight upgrade because theyre a little tougher to fight, but only because they employ a spicy mix of melee swarming and ranged circling.

It’s not fun. It’s not satisfying. Enduring long tedious battles never feel worth it because you’ve probably wasted way more ammo than expected and are fresh out of any worthwhile healing supplies. It’s bad news when the best strategy to take when in a tough fight is to just die. Dying is so inconsequential that the only reason you’d want to take on any tough challenges would be for sheer stubbornness.

The game has a laundry list of issues, bugs, quirks, and brokenness. What’s made me consistently quit the game out of frustration is the game’s lovely way of tricking you into thinking a house is empty, then spawning dozens of enemies (usually ghouls and super mutants for me) all at once. It’s happened more times than any noteworhthy bug or exploits and just forces me to think that the game doesn’t want you to have fun. You either wander around aimlessly in an empty, lonely wasteland or you spam your right trigger til your screen is clear of 14 high level ghouls outside Whitespring Resort.

There’s plenty of the game that I haven’t experienced. I’m only level 26 and I’ve barely scratched the surface of the game main quest lines. I’m sure there’s plenty to be excited for as you get closer to the endgame. What’s so surprising and disappointing about 76 is that, in a series known greatly for its emphasis on exploration and organic progression, the game never lets your enjoy the things most necessary to moving forward. Exploration and free roaming Appalachia has only rewarded me with decent visuals and unexciting, underpowered loot, and trying to engage the game’s main attractions has only led to frustration.

Fallout 76 is a game I so desperately want to enjoy. But the way Fallout 76 sees it, it’s clear that feeling isn’t mutual.

[manikas-whims]

A Chance at Redemption [13]

[1] [2] [3] [4] [5] [6] [7] [8] [9] [10] [11] [12] […]

A/N: Hey guys!

Um..eh hem..please just don't kill me. You can all gang up and beat the shit out of me but do realise that I am human too. Since the past 3 years my life has been a mess and let's just say some personal things are making it really hard for me to write.

I’d like to thank you lovely readers *blows a kiss* I started this fic on a whim and its really a surprise treat to find out that people are actually giving it positive responses. I mean I can just never thank you people enough..

An important thing before you proceed onto the chapter: I may be gone for long but I'll never leave my fics unfinished. I know the pain one feels when coming across a plot of their liking only to realise that it has been left unfinished for xyz years. I'll complete all my fanfics. It's a pinky-swear with you loves. ♥

And as I say, "In the world of writers, those who go on hiatuses are trash but those who abandon their books are worse than trash." XD

Alright! Um..let's have a short recap of everything that has happened so far in this tale:-

The fourth shinobi war's victors were Uchihas who now rule the whole shinobi world with Madara as the self-claimed Hokage. Naruto is no more and Kakashi is in a coma. Sai and Sakura are the only members of Team 7 and they work together along with a few other rebels under the name of FoK. Sai also happens to work in the anbu directly under the Uchihas, thus, acting as a double agent. In order to stop the annihilation of the Hyuga Clan which was planned by the Uchihas, Sakura decides to make a deal with Sasuke. She offers herself to him in a bond of marriage in exchange for the lives of many innocent Hyugas. When her marriage is revealed to the whole world, she is treated as a traitor amongst the rebels. Later on, she finds out that the head of the Hyuga Clan, Hiashi has been assassinated and begins to doubt Sasuke's promise to her. Caught up in his anger Neji reveals about his knowledge of the planned annihilation and just as the Uchihas are about to interrogate him, Sai comes in and takes him to the funeral held for Hiashi in excuse to actually save his neck. Sasuke recalls and is confused about how Sakura and Neji came to know of this annihilation and questions her directly. He then realises how Sai may have been the one who told those two but the question is 'why'. He leaves Sakura for the time being and heads to the burial grounds with the thought of interrogating both Neji and Sai.

If this summary didn't help out much, feel free to read the previous chapters :3

Now back to the chapter..

Chapter 13: Moving Forward

"My hands are drenched in sin..

..but that doesn't mean I'm heartless."

-Suigetsu Hozuki

The two have been sitting silently in his small apartment for an hour now, both lost in deep thought about the next step that they must take. Or rather, the necessary step that they must take now that Neji has literally jeopardized their cover by lashing out in front of the Uchihas. And in doing so, he has also threatened Sai and Sakura's neck along with the whole secret about the FoK.

Sai watched the Hyuga Prodigy meditate with barely concealed interest. He can't help himself from wondering about what would've happened to this man had he not shown up at the Hokage's room when he did. Who knows? Maybe Neji would've earned himself a death sentence? Or worst! Maybe he would've been tortured to the point where he would've been left with no choice but to spill-out everything about their small group of rebels?! The thought in itself is terrorising. The ex-root nin shook his head and decided to distract himself with something less scary. And weirdly, his distraction came in the form of Neji's periodic inhale and exhale of the surrounding air.

Sai gazed at the continuously inflating and deflating chest of the Hyuga. With eyes closed, Neji tried focusing more on controlling his chakra. Sai felt fascinated by him and pondered on whether he must capture this moment on one of his canvases. It'll be a lovely addition to his growing collection of paintings. But not just Neji, Sai is fascinated by all the different people around him. They can teach him important things about life just as much as his team-mates do. Well..talking about teammates, none are currently available to help Sai with his emotional problems. Now that Sakura is betrothed to the infamous second grandson of Madara Uchiha, he is left with no other choice but to resort back to his guide books. How he wishes to discuss about all such things with her.

"Can you stop staring?" muttered the Hyuga, eyes still closed in concentration.

The artist tried an apologetic smile in a similar manner that he has read about in a book but the Hyuga only frowned. It's a mystery how he can understand the ex-root nin's fake expression even with his eyes shut like that. Nonetheless, Sai spoke, "I'm sorry. I'm just trying to formulate a plan about what I can do with you now that you've landed the three of us in such a conundrum."

"Three?" Neji asked, inhaling yet again.

"Yes", Sai picked up a sketch-pad and a brush as he began with a rough sketch of the long-haired prodigy, "You, me and Sakura. The Uchihas may let the matter go but Sasuke won't sit still until he reaches the very bottom of this whole thing."

A long sigh left the prodigy's lips and he stood-up, breaking the calm atmosphere that he had created with his meditation. "You're right. Besides, we only have an hour until the funeral ceremony gets over."

"Yes and I bet that Sasuke will come at you the instant that funeral ends. And he will not let this go until he uncovers every last speck of detail about us." Sai added gravely.

"Well, he'll probably torture me to the point I can take it no more and then make me talk. So I came up with this idea while I was meditating." He said and Sai urged him to go on, "What if he never finds me? Like Sakura did with that disguise of hers'."

Sai shook his head in negation, "Before we can delve any further into this thought I'd like to remind you that Ugly is a pro at chakra control unlike you or myself. So we need to do something else about hiding your identity. Just a simple henge won't work in your case."

Neji nodded in understanding. He knew that Sai would mention this and so, he moved on to his next suggestion "In that case..how about this?"

With the arrival of the Hokage and his minions at the Sacred Hyuga Burial Grounds, an elderly Hyuga member began the Funeral Ceremony by a long prayer in respect of the departed one. And as everyone closed their eyes in prayer, Sasuke Uchiha scanned the whole place, his obsidians looking around in pursuit of a certain Ex-Root assassin and a Prodigy from the Hyuga Clan. But even under the effects of his eternal mangekyou sharingan, he was unable to locate any matching suspects. From what he can recall, it was Sai who had practically dragged a frightened-looking Neji Hyuga out of the Hokage's office, right when Neji spilled-out his knowledge about the annihilation of the Hyuga Clan. There's no need to have any great deduction skills to figure out that the two are hiding- no- conspiring something! And whatever it is that they are plotting to accomplish, is also known to Sakura. It's ridiculous how he completely ignored the fact that she proposed a deal of marriage with him in exchange for the lives of the Hyugas. He must've been more focused and paid attention to how she came to know about that annihilation. But oh well..thanks to his distracting ex-teammate, he let his guard down and failed in noticing how suspicious her and Neji's involvement in this whole matter is.

Taking another glance around the place, he grit his teeth. There were literally no traces of any of the two suspects he's been searching for. Where did they disappear off to? Or what exactly are they doing as of right now? Are they initiating their plans already? Has the first step already been put in action? More importantly, he doesn't even know what they are working on!

Dammit!

He took a long breath to calm his flaring nerves and decided to do one last scan of the area. The first person that his eyes fell upon was Hinata Hyuga. He frowned as he watched the young Hyuga Princess' eyes closed in respect for her father. Its not like she can ever replace her father. There's only one person worthy enough of this position and that is Neji Hyuga from the branch family but even Sasuke knows that the main family will never allow something like this. The Hyugas aren't any less than the Uchihas when it comes to biasing.

He turned his head slightly back and found a former comrade, Shikamaru Nara standing directly behind him with his parents and a blonde, pigtailed woman. He recognises her because he had faced her once when he was still a willing shinobi of the Leaf. He is well-aware about her presence in this village. Well, it's not like she is the only one as after the war ended in their victory, the whole world of shinobi turned into a big mess of panicky civilians and ninja alike. Due to this haphazardness, a lot of the people were unable to return to their respective homelands. And since then, the village gates have been under constant surveillance because of which nobody is allowed to enter or leave at their free will. If there's any need to depart, the individual will first have to consult the nasty Hokage himself.

"What is it Uchiha?" an edgy, feminine tone asked him and it took him a moment to realize that it was the same blonde woman. At her side, Shikamaru scratched his jaw uneasily.

Such firm was her gaze that Sasuke felt himself unable to utter even a word to her.

She smirked teasingly, "Stop staring at me. You're a married man now."

The remark was spewed at him out of spite and disgust she feels towards him for chaining her pink-haired friend in a bond of marriage. And it was more than enough to spur his emotions. He narrowed his eyebrows and glared at her in what he thinks is his most menacing look but it didn't even make her budge. If anything, her lips only curved further upwards. It's almost like she's trying to spite him into some sort of outburst. Anyways, why the hell is she even gazing at him so smugly when her eyes are supposed to be closed in prayer like everyone else's?

"What?" she gestured with a nudge of her head, "Don't have a comeback?"

Comeback? How dare she? Who does she think she is, trying a childish banter with him? Him? He can kill her right here if he wants to but since he has always been surrounded by idiots like her, he knows how to keep his anger in check. His eyes shifted slightly from her face when he noticed some movement. It was the young Nara's palm that sneakily encircled her wrist, signalling her to stop. She turned her head towards Shikamaru and stared at him questioningly.

The young Nara ignored her look and instead bowed his head to Sasuke, "I'm sorry. The edginess is just a part of her personality. She doesn't mean to taunt you."

Sasuke watched her expression change as she heard those words. A big smile settled upon her lips. A big mocking smile and she herself apologised to him, ofcourse in a manner that ridiculed him even further. His fingers were itching to just strangle that little neck of hers but just as he motioned his hands, all eyes flew open.

The ceremony was over and a couple of eyes glanced confusedly between him, Shikamaru and the blonde girl, wondering exactly what was going on. With a heavy sigh, Sasuke managed to alleviate some of his anger and left the burial grounds in search of Neji Hyuga instead.

Behind him, Shikamaru released a breath in relief.

When she woke up, the whole apartment shook by the intensity of her horrified scream. Her shoulders shook with fear as she could still feel those crimson orbs boring holes into her frightful emeralds. And here she thought that those nightmares were finally gone...Surprise! Surprise! They had never really left..They were just lurking in the depths of her dark thoughts laced in fear, anticipating the right time to launch an attack. She can still remember that dream along with all of the vivid details. The dense chakra that was surrounding the aura of that avenger- Sasuke! He charged his left hand with a chidori and struck it right into the heart of her innocent, blond teammate, ending his life then and there. And as Sasuke did so, the blood went splashing all around him, drenching every inch of his skin in that Hokage-wannabe's blood. She can still remember herself sitting there, kneeling right before the whole scenario, tears streaming down her cheeks endlessly. Every time in her vision, he would turn around at this very moment and his piercing crimsons would clash with her scared emeralds. And he would inch closer towards her, pressing his lips against hers, smearing them with that very same blood of her dead teammate...

Just the shear memory made her scream again and that too, louder this time...Immediately, the door to her room burst open and in stepped the two sycophants that Sasuke has left to keep watch on her at all times. She lifted her eyelids slightly and flashed them a menacing glare.

"What do you want?" She whispered hoarsely in an irate tone.

The minute her scream reached their ears, Suigetsu and Juugo slammed the door open and ran in to check-up on the situation, completely prepared for whatever it was awaiting their entrance behind her door. Shockingly, they only found her gnawing at the skin of her innocently beautiful face. A second passed with her glaring at them, her fingernails digging painfully into her cheeks and them confusedly staring back at her.

"What do you want?" She whispered in a tight tone.

"We heard you scream. Are you alright?" Juugo asked with genuine concern swirling in his scarlet-red irises.

"You can tell Sasuke that I'm dealing well with all his confinements." She answered in a sarcastic tone.

"For your kind info, Sasuke never asked us to do this." Suigetsu spoke, his hand gripping the hilt of his huge blade a bit too hard.

No doubt they have been sent here by Sasuke to make sure that she is safe. Why? Well..because now that she is an Uchiha, as entitled by Madara himself, there are people who will try and grasp every chance they can to kill the young bride of his grandson. They have been sent here for the sole purpose of her protection at all costs but they aren't supposed to tell her about this. Heh! "She will understand..."- those were the exact words spoken by their young boss. Sasuke doesn't want them to tell her. She will understand?! How?! Last time that Suigetsu checked, she wasn't a psychic and she isn't one now! So the chances of her understanding Sasuke's motives without them having to explain it to her are very slim.

"Yeah..Yeah..Just like he never asked you to keep me locked-up at my apartment." She uttered with excruciating emphasis on every word.

"Huh..." Suigetsu exhaled audibly and closed his eyes, "Now listen-"

"I'm an Uchiha right?! Then..why was I restricted to attend Hiashi Hyuga's funeral?!" She yelled, tears clouding her mesmerizing irises.

He wants to tell her so badly about Sasuke's intentions but he simply cannot go against his master's orders. Frustrated at the fact and at himself, he closed his eyes and heaved a long sigh. When he re-opened them, he found the young medic already out of her bed, standing in her black, knee-high boots. And that sight alone, made him release another long sigh. Seriously? Does she ever stay at home and sleep like a normal girl must? No? Well..Karin did..

Karin.. He sighed. That redhead was kinda bitchy but Suigetsu has to admit that he misses her.

The swordsman rubbed his eyes to keep himself from overreacting and asked the pinkette, "Where are you going?"

She bade him no response, which is not even surprising anymore. He has gotten pretty used to her weird antics. And so, as she made her way out of her bedroom and left her apartment, him and Juugo were left with no other choice but to follow her. A sense of déjà vu passed his thoughts as Juugo closed the main door of her apartment.

Blood had started to ooze out from the places she had been gnawing at on her cheeks. Why isn't she healing herself? He thought but then immediately felt like smacking himself. Ofcourse it has to do with that stupid bracelet that Kabuto has put on her. Healing is an intricate procedure and requires a lot of chakra and focus.

"Do you enjoy this?" Suigetsu asked, sweat trickling down his brow.

"Enjoy what?" she asked as she continued marching in the direction of only god knows what place.

"Getting us all worked-up!" the swordsman yelled, finally losing his cool. Her lack of concern for her own skin irked him even more. Karin would've never let even a single scar stay on her cheek. Karin would've tried everything in her might to look pretty every single fucking day. Karin would..Karin isn't here anymore..

He sighed in frustration and tried to focus on Sakura again."You know Sasuke won't be pleased when he finds out-"

"Does it look like I care?" she drawled out.

"Well..you must. Because when he finds out, he's gonna kill us all." Suigetsu tried his best to emphasize the 'kill' part but the young medic continued walking. And yet again, he moved his lips to shout some sense into her head but a large hand on his shoulder stopped him from doing so. He glanced at the shaky palm and then at it's equally fidgety owner- Juugo. The expression on his face was enough to convey that he was controlling his anger the best he could and so, Suigetsu decided to let the matter go. For the time being atleast. Afterall, it's fine as long as Sasuke is the one who kills them. He will grant a quick, merciful death. An enraged Juugo on the other hand, will tear him and Sakura to shreds but only after making sure to beat them to a pulp. Suigetsu doesn't want such a death. And he's damn sure Sakura shares the same thoughts.

The déjà vu hit Suigetsu yet again as they entered the rusty, old building of the Konoha Hospital. If they are here, then ofcourse the pinkette wants to see none other than her half-dead mentor. Crossing the dirty halls that led towards the secluded ward, Suigetsu and Juugo watched in silence as the small key was inserted into the hole and the knob was turned. Sakura walked in with a heaviness in her heart and before the minds of the former S-class nins could comprehend what was happening, she threw herself over the unmoving body of the infamous copy-nin. Unexpectedly loud sobs reached the men's ears and they watched in shock the continuous shaking of the young medic's shoulders as she shed tears.

What Suigetsu had heard from his buddy Sai was the fact that team 7 is not just a team but a family. It was hard to believe those words when he had first heard them but it is far-easier to understand their depth now that he is experiencing them with his very own eyes. His eyes remained fixated on Sakura as she wept over the silver-haired man's form as if he was actually her father. Okay, maybe not. But in his own way, Kakashi is like a father to team 7.

"You.." they heard her sob out in a soft yet shrill tone, her tears mixing with the dried blood on her cheeks, "You said that you won't let me shoulder the burden on my own. You promised..."

The whole room went quiet again, followed by the hysterical sobbing of the pink-haired kunoichi. With her face burrowed into the chest of her former teacher, her hands clutched at the fabric of his shirt and she cried. She cried and cried and cried..and they watched. Both Suigetsu and Juugo were unable to look away from the pitiful sight before their eyes. It made them contemplate and question their own acts. Are they on the right side? Ofcourse not. Can they help her out of this? Maybe? Maybe not. Who knows? At this point, the only thing that is clear to them is that she doesn't belong anywhere near that Uchiha den.

"You know why I married him.." she lifted her head and whispered to the sleeping man, "You know exactly why.. So pleaassse..wake up, Sensei. Wake up and take away some of my burden..." She gazed hopefully at the man lying on the stretcher but her words proved to be futile. The man didn't even budge. Juugo honestly felt an ache in his heart. He maybe on the wrong side but he isn't a bad person. He wants to help Sakura. He genuinely does. He just has no idea where or how to begin..

Three hours passed in that hospital ward with Sakura talking to her comatose sensei and Suigetsu discussing with Juugo about how to actually handle being guards to such a fragile girl. One misstep and she'll break.

Sakura wiped her teary face with the back of her sweaty palms and turned around to find Sasu- her husband's faithful sycophants waiting for her. Bidding them no signal, she walked right past them out of the room, knowing they'll undoubtedly follow.

Now that she has freely let out her emotional pain to someone, she is ready to sacrifice herself and stand next to the Uchihas. All her friends think of her as a traitor and it's better this way. Atleast her false betrayal will act as a positive motivator. It'll rile their sentimental connections to her and help them realise their goal much easily. The rebels will work far-better in her absence.

Upon reaching her small apartment, she felt an intense gaze pierce through her carefully constructed mask of apathy. She knew exactly whom those eyes belonged to and without even an ounce of fear in her form, she tilted her face, her emeralds meeting the onyxes. By the deep frown marring his face, it was obvious that he wasn't pleased about something and clearly that "something" is linked with her. Still, she climbed the three short steps up the porch and stood directly in front of him, awaiting his angry tirade.

"Where were you?" he gritted out.

"Not a matter of your concern." came her curt response.

He exhaled a breath through his nose and she watched his nostrils flare in unbridled anger.Such a Sasuke-thing to do. She scoffed inwardly and watched the riled up Uchiha inch closer towards her. She kept her gaze. She wasn't intimidated by him in the least. He has already tried to kill her twice so she isn't much scared of dying by his hands. Much to her surprise though, a heavy, shiny object swished in between her and him, breaking the tense atmosphere in an instant-Suigetsu's huge sword. Taking a long breath, Sasuke turned to the side to face the intrusive person and his eyes changed to red, the black tomoes spinning wildly as he seethed at the man. Sakura's eyes on the other hand widened in actual shock when she found that it was Suigetsu who had intervened between them. Why did he?

The white-haired rogue-nin simply stared at his master, his lips a thin line that expressed no emotion whatsoever. When he had decided to serve Sasuke, he had planned to stay out of his boss's way..he had planned to stay out of trouble. But things have changed. He has changed. Watching this pink-haired medic weep in front of her unresponsive sensei stirred something in him. And if this is the last bit of good that he has within him, then he surely wants to utilise it to his best. His inner conflict has finally ended and he has reached a conclusion. He maybe working under the Uchihas but he'll properly safeguard Sakura Haruno. It's better to die the death of a kind bodyguard than an S-class shinobi who used to kill for fun.

"I'm-We're sorry, Sasuke-sama." Juugo was the one who spoke-up for his lean partner, nodding his head at the swordsman in agreement. If Suigetsu is ready then he is too. Afterall, he had never wanted to be the bad guy. It's just life offered him limited options and he had to choose the least bad from amongst them. But now as he glanced between his master and his newfound bride, who also happens to be a kind woman, he has changed his mind from just 'spending the days and dying' to doing something good for the sake of redemption..to achieve true piece at the time of his demise.

"We can't let your hostile nature hurt Sakura-san because this is exactly what you had ordered us to do." He explained honestly.

If anything one of Sasuke's eyebrows arched high up in question of such insolence. He had expected eventual discord and disrespect from Suigetsu. He has never been able to trust the mist-nin but he had always expected Juugo to be a faithful one. So what exactly did Sakura do to win over his dogs? Moments of him glaring ferociously at them did nothing to melt their determination to protect the young kunoichi. They stood before her like a shield and the pinkette watched in silent amazement. It's almost as if she hadn't expected them to protect her.

With his sharingan now faded back to reveal his beautiful greyish-onyx orbs, he sighed raggedly and asked her again in a much calmer tone, "Where were you?"

She scoffed, only this time not inwardly. She shook her head at him and countered his query with a question of her own, "Why do you even care?"

Sasuke's left hand moved and he grabbed tightly onto the hilt of his kusanagi. Sakura's eyes followed, noticing the subtle action of the man she had fallen for. And with a piercing gaze, he gritted out, "Because Neji Hyuga was found dead an hour ago and I don't want to find out that my wife was behind his murder."

Sakura gulped calmly in the eerie silence that followed his words. And then, she shrieked, "WHAT!?"

Alright, so this marks the end of the chapter. I know its not the best one but I still hope you guys liked it..:)

What do you think about Neji's death?

Or Suigetsu and Juugo's newfound fealty towards Sakura?

More angst in the coming chapters.

And once again, thanks for being such patient readers. I really love you guys..♡

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Until Next Time...

~Manika

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