#I’m at a point where the littlest things r setting me off and I know it’s annoying everyone

[makkie-is-screaming]

I really thought I was better this time

[micasaessakusa]

MSBY Black Jackals breakups (as song lyrics)

Characters: Bokuto Koutarou, Hinata Shouyou, Miya Atsumu, Sakusa Kiyoomi Genre: Angst, Breakup Word Count: 2.305 words

B O K U T O   K O U T A R O U

Bokuto Koutarou is a star.

That’s what he is to everyone around him, not just to you. He’s the kind of star who captivates everyone who so much as glances his way, and the more you get to know him, the more the thought keeps being reaffirmed in your mind.

Much like a star, he burns bright, and he also burns strong - something you only truly began to understand the more you stay by his side.

And true to himself, Koutarou’s love is also all-consuming. Intense. Wholehearted. Unconditional. So much so that in the process of being with him, you began to just… be consumed. You started to forget about yourself.

It wasn’t his fault by any means. After all, he was just being himself, but recently, you couldn’t say the same for yourself.

Everything changed. Not on his side, no - he remains the same loving man he is, but you… you changed. But lately, everything he does for you does nothing but annoy you.

Blindsided by just about anything, your sweet days together turned into nothing but fighting.

One day, you just suddenly find yourself screaming at his face because of a miniscule thing you found annoying. Something you don’t even remember anymore. ‘What happened to the two of you?’ is the running thought in Bokuto’s mind, but you just can’t get yourself to feel otherwise.

Lately, you’ve been so angry all the time. And in your blind anger, you blame him for what’s happening, not at all realizing that this rift in your relationship is no one else’s fault but yours.

With a second of lull in the air in the midst of you shouting at him, you collapse on the edge of the bed as realization dawns on you.

This couldn’t go on.

What you have, or what is left of it anyway, is doing nothing but hurt the both of you. All you’ve been doing is hurt him.

And as you sit there clenching your jaw as you try to stop the traitorous tears from falling, he slumps beside you. He rests his hand on top of your own, a gentle touch you’ve been missing for weeks, and he lets out a deep sigh.

The tears finally roll down his cheeks upon the unspoken thought that hangs in the air surrounding the two of you. He knows what’s coming, making him squeeze your hand lightly to get even a semblance of comfort from you.

“I’ve come to hate you, Kou. I’ve come to hate our relationship,” you mutter quietly as you clasp his hand between your shaky pair, running your thumb over his knuckles in your feeble attempt to soothe him.

“I’ve come to hate the way I love you, but even now-- even now… I still can’t put anybody else above you…”

Thick rivulets of tears cascade down his cheeks and he bites down the sobs that harshly crawl out of his throat, and he can’t fight it anymore, he embraces you one last time knowing full well what your next words would be.

“I still love you, Bokuto Koutarou, I love you so much,” you sob against his chest.

“...which is why I’m letting you go.”

----------

“i hate you, i love you, i hate that i love you don’t want to, but i can’t put nobody else above you” - i hate u i love u, gnash

H I N A T A   S H O U Y O U

Childhood sweethearts, that’s what you were. 

From elementary, to middle school even up until high school, you found yourselves always within an arm’s reach of each other.

With your similar personalities - your drive, your passion, your burning perseverance to reach for your dreams, it wasn’t exactly difficult for you to fall for him and for him to harbor the same feelings towards you.

You supported each other, and you overcame just about everything life has thrown your way as you remained together for so long.

And you were confident, as was he. You were both certain that despite the differing paths in your future, your feelings for each other could and would survive regardless of your decisions.

You should’ve known it takes more than love to keep a relationship alive.

“I have to do this, [Y/N],” he whispers as he holds your hands in his own pair. Each quiet sniffle you make claws at his heart like sharp blades, and he fails to hold back tears of his own.

He tries to gulp down the lump in his throat, but he finds that the longer he hears you cry, the harder it is for him to go through his plans. But he’s already decided. It’s difficult, yes, but he knows he has to trust his plans for if he doesn’t, he knows he’ll regret it in the future.

And Hinata Shouyou hates nothing more than lost opportunities.

He has to go to Rio, and he’s going to do it for himself, even if it means he has to break his relationship with you.

“Shouyou--” you say as you try to stop from sobbing out. “It could work, we could still work even if you’re goin--”

“[Y/N],” his quiet call of your name cuts off your rambling. Taking your hands close to him, he plants a kiss on your knuckles as he gently prompts you to look at him.

“You and I both know it won’t work.”

Letting go of your hands, he chooses to engulf you in an embrace, one that you know would be the last one for quite some time. As he pulls you impossibly close to his warmth, he utters the words you so desperately wish are false, despite knowing otherwise.

“We were just kids when we fell in love, and we didn’t know what it was. We used to think love would always triumph above all, but now… now we know it’s not always enough.”

----------

“‘cause we were just kids when we fell in love, not knowing what it was” - perfect, ed sheeran

M I Y A   A T S U M U

The moment the words passed through his lips, he immediately wanted to take them back.

Right now, you could see it on his face - the realization, the urge to take it all back, but in the end, he doesn’t. And that spells all the difference in the world.

He remains standing a few steps away from you. Close enough that you could easily see the way his jaw is tense and how his fists are clenched tight to the point where his knuckles are turning white.

As for you, you remain as still as a statue. You can’t move, can’t speak. You can’t even blink because if you do, it would surely cause the first of your tears to break free.

The persistent stinging in the back of your eyes makes you want to flee the room, but you don’t. You stay standing in the middle of the space full of air that’s heavy with tension so thick.

The silence fills the room for a couple of beats, but you will yourself to slice through it.

“... let’s break up then,” you push through the lump in your throat, voice cracking at the end.

“If I’m nothing but a ‘fuckin bother,’ as you said, then I don’t see the point why we’re still together,” you vaguely register the wetness pooling in your lids and spilling to your cheeks, but you make no move to wipe them away.

He visibly flinches when you throw his words back at him, but he still doesn’t take them back. He doesn’t move to apologize as he remains stubbornly rooted in his place, not even able to look you in the eyes.

You wait for him to say something, anything to show you he’s willing to fight for your relationship, but you get nothing. And only now do you really begin to comprehend just how alone you are in this fight.

It takes two to make a relationship work, so what use would it be to move forward when the other has already given up?

But it’s all your fault, you think to yourself.

They told you, but you didn’t listen. Everyone told you how Miya Atsumu has no space in his heart for nothing but volleyball.

His whole being is set only on one thing, everything else be damned.

Everyone around you told you the same thing, but you didn’t listen because you so naively thought you could stand by him, that it doesn’t matter if you’re not his top priority. It doesn’t matter if you’re not his number one, so long as he allows you to stay by his side to love him… only now do you see just how stupid you were in thinking he even wanted somebody to be by his side.

A low, humorless chuckle escapes you the same time your tears roll down your cheeks. You didn’t want to believe it, but now that you’ve been slapped with the truth, you begin to see just how little you matter to him - how much you don’t matter to him.

So you turn around.

You turn around to walk out the room, leaving your heart in the hands of someone who never wanted it in the first place. With your back turned to him, you tell him the words that weigh heavily in your own fragile little heart.

“They told me that only a fool would fall for you… that only a fool would continue to stay by your side doing what I do… then I guess, I’m nothing but a fool for falling for you.”

Each step you take towards the door is one step farther you distance yourself from him. Each step you take forward is one less chance he has of taking you back…

But in the end, he lets you leave. He doesn’t even move to go after you.

----------

“only fools fall for you, only fools, only fools do what i do, only fools fall” - fools, troye sivan

S A K U S A   K I Y O O M I

Sakusa Kiyoomi is many things, but perhaps one of the things that makes you fall for him harder and harder everyday is his persistence.

When he sets his mind to something, he keeps his focus, pours in unbelievable amounts of effort, and makes sure to see it through to the end. He’s always so consistent, and you love that about him.

You love seeing your Kiyoomi always working hard to better himself. He always seeks to improve even in the littlest of ways, and that alone makes him so amazing in your eyes. And it’s what makes him one of the best in his field.

Sometimes though… sometimes his persistence goes a tad bit more than even his own standards. Which means most, if not all of the time, he settles for nothing but perfection. Unfortunately, Kiyoomi seems to think the same goes for you too.

You’ve always known about his bluntness ever since before you got into a relationship with him, but you never really expected to be at the receiving end of it.

It started off with him being supportive of your decisions. Then came his attempts to push you towards improvement, something you greatly appreciated. But recently…

‘I’m sure you could do it better, babe’ somehow turned to ‘do it better,’ until it became nothing but ‘you can’t even do it right.’

Day by day, each sharp word thrown at you slices through your heart, and over time, it just seemed like he viewed you as- as not enough. Someone who couldn’t even do things right. And over time, you started to believe it too. Then you began to think how you’re probably wasting his time because after all, how could someone like you possibly be worthy of the attention and time and care of someone like him, a successful, decorated elite athlete who’s still moving fast towards even greater successes?

Then one day, you just realized that spending time with him was killing you.

Once upon a time, you used to understand that Kiyoomi just wanted you to grow with him, but now… now, all that reverberates in your mind is how you’re not enough for him. That you’ll probably never be enough for him.

So as you stand in front of the man who used to be your greatest supporter, you will yourself to ignore his tears. You force yourself to ignore the urge to run into his arms as he breaks down in front of you-- as he sobs and apologizes for not seeing how his words and actions have done nothing but hurt you.

Even amidst the gripping pain in your chest, you know deep down that he just wants you to be by his side. But that’s just it… you know in your heart that you’re too different. You lead different lives. You have different goals. You have different ideas of success and ambitions. You move in different paces. It’s never going to work.

So as he begs you to not leave him, you hold his warm hands in your palm as you give him a tearful, bittersweet smile.

“I could be giving you towers of gold, Kiyoomi, but even that won’t satisfy you,” you murmur as you sniffle through your tears, fighting back the sob lodged at the back of your throat as you hear his endless apologies.

“My hands could be holding the world, but it would never be enough for you. It’s just never going to be enough.”

----------

“towers of gold are still too little, these hands could hold the world but it’ll never be enough, never be enough” - never enough, loren allred

[rebloged-content]

Recommended Sanders Sides creators

Marry Christmas, everyone! And a wonderful December day to all of you who don’t celebrate Christmas, too. Let’s be honest right off the bat, though: I’m only using the date as an excuse to do this list anyways.

So. Throughout the time I’ve spent as a part of this wonderful corner of the sanders sides fandom over here on tumblr, I’ve often found a new creator and wished I’d found them sooner. It kind of makes me wonder who else I might miss. If you do to, here are a few creators I’d love for you to check out. You’ll probably recognize some of the names, if not all, but maybe you’ll find a new favorite creator here?

And to the creators in question, I really love your content. If you’ve made it onto this list, you’ve definitely cause one or two sleepless nights of reading for me, because who needs sleep if I can have this, right? XD Whatever you’ll find written next to your name is the impression you’ve left on me and… Well, just know that you’ve made some days of my life at least a little happier, all of you. And I hope to repay the favor by telling you how much I appreciate you releasing your content into this world… Well, repay the favor at least a little, I suppose.

Let’s begin, then, shall we?

@5am-the-foxing-hour Because this? This is who you go to if you want to read good Janus-content. You are in a mood to read sympathetic Janus? Wanna see the danger noodle just casually interact with other sides? Go to their short stories. I mean, “the cult”? Prime example of how to tell a story with impact in just a few words. 8 paragraphs, but boy did I read that one on repeat. Or “water spray bottle”, this one is fun, short and will make you laugh. An energy drink for the fander heart, so to say.

Then there’s their mafia-au, “there’s more in me than precious metals”. Six are out so far, and I adore every single word of every single part of this. Protective Remus, sassy Janus, angst, comedy relief, destruction, Roman-Remus-sibling-rivalry, braincell Logan, survival instinct Virgil, working together over a common enemy… This fic has it all, believe me. Take your time and read it, because you will read the entire thing in one go once you start. At least I did, and I didn’t even notice.

And their advent writings? Those had me squealing and jumping around in a way I will deny if anyone ever sees it. I don’t even know what else to say, they are fucking fantastic and that’s that.

So, yeah. Go check them out, before I start fangirling about them even more. You know my personal favorites now, so just go there. You won’t regret it.

Next up is @coconut-cluster. Ah, yes, Lexi. Lexi, whose uni-AU started as self indulgent and has become the loceit story on tumblr. We all know her, or at least most of us do, and we all love her too. And while I also drop everything I do at any point of time I possibly can once I realize the uni-au has any form of new addition, there are a lot of other fics created by her that you should check out as well.

Did you, for example, ever want a sappy prinxiety one-shot with the sappiness only being implied, a mutual understanding of “we’re-not-saying-we-care-but-we-both-know-we-do” born from joking reassurances and a not-a-date-nope-only-a-break? While that may seem to be a tall order, that is exactly what “before the sun goes down” is. Plus there’s ice cream. Or maybe you’re more of a logince fan? Do you want a fic where Roman isn’t the prince but serves His Highness? Do you like sincere talks while you’re procrastinating showing your face to the subjects you don’t really want to rule over? In that case, you really should read “Viva la Vida”. Careful, though, this one is so sweet you’ll probably get a toothache… There also is an analogical fic that I’ve enjoyed very much: “Cracks in the Ceiling”. I love it, because it’s just calm. Fears creeping up on you, thrown away by a trusted friend with a few words, just by being there and playing into the metaphors you head created this time around. It’s calm, and there’s not really a climax or anything, but it doesn’t need one. Because it’s just a glance into everyday life. It’s beautiful in its own right, really.

What I’m saying is, Lexi has a lot more wonderful stories to tell than the uni-au. It’s the most popular one, sure, and it’s one of her best works. But you really should check out her other fics as well. Lexi herself once said that she writs fics she’d like to read. I would figure it’s because of this, but her stories are mostly things you don’t really find anywhere else. Dynamics, stories, world building, all of those are aspects you may find somewhere else. But Lexi is just one of those people who see what they miss in a fandom and create it themselves, and among these creators Lexi is my favorite. She just has that certain skill that makes that approach to writing result in the most enjoyable reading experiences. Lexi’s fics are special, because they’re different, because they are authentic and you can feel that when you’re reading her work.

@djpurple3 is another talented individual I want to talk about. I have to confess, DJ is, as far as original content goes, almost exclusively locked in my brain with the fiction “I just keep loosing my beat”. 23 Chapters so far, one better than the last. It’s a bitter-sweet story following Remus and his children, after the bitch of a mother has been brought behind bars. Abusive piece of shit. Yeah, I don’t like her much. But the story is so full of love and support, everyone trying their best, everyone seeing how much the others deserve the world and wishing they could give it to them… Roman and Remus have a sibling-dynamic I would die for here, too. Patton is just the most adorable friend to Deceit - here Damion - Virgil is a precious bean, Logan is cute and the teacher we all wish he’d had ourselves and… god, I could keep gushing about this fic forever. I’ll stop now, though, before I’ll start spoiler things. Wouldn’t want to do that, especially since I really, really, really want more people to give this a go. It’s not underrated, I just think everyone who doesn’t is missing out by a lot, so… Go over there and read DJ’s fic right fucking now, if you haven’t already read it at least once. Thank you.

@delimeful​, our wonderful lime-friend with a cute cat making a terrifying face in his header. First of all, there is the WIBAR universe, short for “Watch it burn and rust”. 5 chapters in act one, 4 intermissions (one of those with three chapters), one chapter of act two, as well as three extras and an au of this au called “the end of being alone”, and I’ve lost count of how many nights I spent reading those instead of sleeping like I should. (Or interacting with family. Or being productive. Or… It’s really a good story, okay?!) WIBAR is a deathworlder au. So a space au in which humans are regarded as dangerous deathworlders who can survive on a deathworld like earth. In other words, Virgil is the only human, and boy does that scare everyone around him. And the best part? You can feel the development, the shift in mentality regarding Virgil, feel the moment approach in which he isn’t a threat but a companion instead.

And, apart from the fic that inspired me enough to start writing “TINND!R?” over on my writing blog, there are a lot more amazing fics to read on lime’s blog. He wrote “How easy you are to need”, for example. It’s soft, it pulls at just the right heartstrings, it’s achingly hopeful and, god, the ending still has me in tears, even after the fifth - ? sixth? something among those lines - reread. This one’s a werewolf au, actually. Virgil is the werewolf, Logan, Patton and Roman are the humans.

Do you want yourself some of that pre-AA dynamic? I’d recommend “to taste your beating heart”. In this, Virgil gets separated from the rest of his group of vampire hunters and gets turned into a vampire himself, loosing his memories. And he’s “Anx” now, not “Virgil”, goddamnit! He isn’t their friend anymore, why don’t they understand that? Well, probably because they can still see Virgil’s old habits shining through. There’s a lot of tension, a lot of angst and a whole lot of frustration involved in this.

He also wrote some amazing one-shots. They’re mostly so well written that I’m almost sad not to be waiting on a continuation. There’s “the littlest mermaid”, in which Virgil goes to investigate a noise, finding a scared, tiny mermaid in need of help. In “community gardens” we have Remus being Remus, gaining the interest and friendship of the forest’s giant Logan. “Magical mutualism” tells the tale of a witch and a demon making a pact beneficial to both parties and opening the doors neither could have gone beyond alone. The way we’re all confused about our ships not actually having set sail yet comes to a hight in Virgil in regards to his friends in “amateur matchmakers”. And this is the point at witch I stop talking before I actually recommend every single one of lime’s fics instead of just my favorites as I had planed because I started to gush too much… XD

Let’s move on to @muppenthings​. Mupp is an amazing artist and she created a giant mermaid au. There’s this one orca who’s just… We love her, but I actually don’t think she’s the brightest. I really, really love her, though. Virgil himself is being a little protective over his human friends and casually so. I love this comic series for the art style, but I also love the way it makes me crack a laugh at least once per work. Or appeal to my mother-instincts, if it’s about baby Virgil. Too cute for his own good, I tell ya! And the facial expressions! The detail, the jokes, everything about this is wonderful. You should at least take a look.

@whenisitenoughtrees​. Cat got me with “This cup of yours tastes holy (This lie is dead)”. “A slow voice on a wave of phase” was next, later “Infinity and beyond”, “we are not alone in the dark with out demons” and “changing of the guard”. And then, suddenly, the night was over. I’ve read almost all of the fics in one go, and I’ve been semi-frequently visiting her master post ever since. When “There’s an endless road to rediscover” came out just a little while back, that lead to me re-reading through almost the entire list. I don’t regret it, my plans for that weekend would like to disagree.

These six fics I mentioned here are, by no means, the only ones I enjoyed. Those are just the ones I’ve found myself opening up again and again in sleepless nights. Those are the ones that pop up in my head and have me smiling to myself in the middle of god-knows-whatever-I’ve-been-doing-at-the-time.

Angst, fluff, hurt-comfort, you’ll find everything in that list. And something I’ve grown to like about Cat’s fics even more than anything else is the quick change between feeling perplexed, a startled laugh at certain wordings (you’ll know what I’m talking about when you see it) and apprehension. These fics will have you at the edge of you seat, swooping you away on an emotional roller coaster. And, god, the way Cat writes from Remus’ perspective? The introductions of her stories and the way she redirects to the main topic after going into detail on something? I saved a few paragraphs as screenshots on my phone because I love them and I want to read them again when I’m down. I just… Cat’s great.

Next up is @eliemo. Because Elias Virgil is the royalty of Virgil angst. From the touch-starved Virgil we’ve all had a head cannon of at one point in “Heart of Ice”, over ace Virgil panicking over telling his boyfriends that he his ace and didn’t think to tell them before in “Love our way” to so, so much more.

Mostly EV follows the story arc of an underlying feeling of dread at the beginning, which slowly grows into panic, exploding in a storm of angst and concludes in everyone, or at least whoever is around, coming to the rescue and helping to calm down, with the end being the hope for getting better in the future. They always manage to convey the confusion, fear or just the general thought process so well that you can’t help but get absorbed in the story. They know exactly what to say and what to leave between the lines to get the maximum effect. And, your heart will definitely be shattered after their angst. Still, the way the sides comfort each other and support each other so well every time is just… I love their stories, a lot.

I want to make two more suggestions if you want to check out this creator. A Janus angst fic, which can only be described as “ouch” you’ll find under the name “snake bite”. It hurts in the best way possible, because Janus gets the comfort he deserves.

The other suggestion gets a lot darker. It’s about Virgil having been abused by the “others” before he got accepted into the light side. The others are shocked to find out what has gone on behind their backs and they help Virgil in every way they can to recover. Of cause it’s a rocky path, though. This would be “Learned Behavior”. The series/au has twelve stories so far, one of which has two parts. You’ll find the master post for this pinned to the top on their blog.

If you like angst, you should also give @maybedefinitely404​ a look. Ly has a soulmate-au going, in which they use the concept of “you hear the music your soulmate listens to”. "Music in my head” is a prinxiety fic, but the two of them have yet to meet. Four chapters and two mini-fics in. The reason I mentioned angst is because in this - spoiler alert for the first few chapters here - , Virgil gets put through conversion therapy. Luckily Janus and Logan are better foster parents than the ones who did that to him.

They also have a master list for all their soulmate stories, featuring different ships. Apparently they participated in soulmate month, if I understood that correctly. And to be honest, that was how I even found their account. I absolutely adore their anxceit fic, which takes place in a human au. It’s starting off pretty sad, but the bonding moments are absolutely wonderful. It’s a lovely story, and the ending is one of the best ones I’ve yet to read. Their logince fic took my breath away, too. A flower shop/tattoo artist au, and Logan is the tattoo artist. Stunning writing, wonderful world building, just the right amount of backstory to have everything make sense without overwhelming/drowning the reader in unnecessary details. Their moxceit fiction… Well, this one had me in tears within the first few paragraphs. It’s terrible and you feel for Janus, whose perspective this is written from. The ending, though… Gods! The ending was so indescribably cute. To be honest, all of the soulmate stories are great, these three are just my personal favorites.

Concerning their one shots, you’ll probably have to figure it out on your own concerning this. I haven’t been able to read all of them yet, as sad as that makes me. Definitely palling on doing it in the future, though. I did read two of them, though. “Pippity poppity” really was amusing, and I am so looking forward to the second part of “The Boy who sings next door”. The way they write the dynamics between the sides? I live for that.

Another creator I would like to recommend is @maybe-im-tired.They don’t have a master post, as far as I could see, but they only post their content anyways, so… “Can’t take my eyes off of you” is my favorite out of their fics so far. I mean, the way they managed to fit the sheer chaos that is intrulogical into this one short fic is amazing. And you could take about two thirds of what Remus said and put it up on your wall as out-of-contexts-quotes. Don’t worry, he says them out of context anyways, and they will definitely make you laugh. 

The series of short stories for the human au that starts with “Glowing stars” is another au by them that you will almost certainly like. We have Logan and Virgil as kids (about 7 I think), Remus and Patton as single parents, Roman as the most adoring uncle, Emile as babysitter and Remy as his amazing partner. Remus is a great father, wonderfully chaotic as well. And a teacher! Imagine that, Remus as your teacher... He’s great with kids though, as long as they aren’t entitled villains come to make his precious Virgil feel bad, that is.

They also wrote a bunch of “random one shots”. They are all amazing, but my favorite has to be this one. It’s a logince one, once again human au. Patton may or may not tell his big brother’s crush about the feelings he wasn’t prepared to share yet. You know, as small kids do. It’s soft, it will make you smile as much as Logan does, and I love Remus in it. I generally like how they write Remus, okay? I know how much I’ve said it, but I’m not even exaggerating. They always write him differently, and all versions they write him as are so, so lovable and just… I wanna hug the life out of all Remus versions they wrote, okay? Take a look, you’ll know why.

Anyways. Let’s continue with @figurative-siren-song. This is the last account I’ve followed and I’m still sad about it having taken me this long to find them. Little salty, to be honest. (I’ll stick to they/them because they said just not to use she/her, and, well… consistency, you know? Don’t have much, so I have to get what I can XD). When I finally did find them, I went through their entire master list (at least all of the ships with characters I actually know. I’m kinda bad with the shorts characters, so I usually just… avoid them? Idk. Personal preference, I guess), and, well… I would honestly recommend every single fic on that list. They call themself “Repair Fluff King™️” and they deserve that title. But when they warn you that a fic will be angsty, it will be angsty.

I found them through the anxceit fic “A Deal”. Well, through an animatic by their friend on youtube that had linked the fic, but details. I’ve been reading this fic up and down again and again. It’s just so good! And when they talk in the second part and Janus explains why he proposed that deal. Or in the continuation, which i can’t talk about because I will probably spoiler things! So wholesome!

 Also, their losleepxeity fic “We’re worth it”. So soft! The nicknames, the plot, the everything. It’s softer than clouds look, and we all know that means something.

But, really. Everyone will find something for them by this creator. So many ships, all incredibly well written, and soft and fluffy without getting boring in the slightest. It’s as energizing as coffee, actually. And, let’s be honest, this whole fandom drowns itself in angst most of the time. Take a break from that, repair your broken hearts with goof fluffy content that you’ll want to read over and over again. Go check this creator out. You will love them. 

Last but not least… @myfriendsasthesides​ A blog by a creator who just takes the wonderfully chaotic dynamics of a friend group and using that to give us content of incorrect sides quotes. Maybe it doesn’t fit with me going on and on about fics here. I don’t care. Follow them and turn on those notifications, please, because seeing even one post of theirs on your dashboard will make your day. It’s funny, it’s absurd, it’s chaotic, it’s making you jealous of them for having friends like that. Believe me, you will want to see those posts. It’s just… the random shots of serotonin and dopamine out generation needs really fucking desperately 100% of the time. 

That’s it with the list! Eleven creators I absolutely adore, and I’m sorry I was babbling so much all the way through, but… Well, actually I’m not sorry. And actually, half of the reason I even made this post is to tell them how much I love them and fangirl about them a bit. So… Yeah. Well.I love you guys and hope you’ll have a wonderful day! And to everyone else reading this: I hope this helped you ind some new creators you can enjoy. And a good day to you too, of cause.

Sincerely, Joy 🖤

(@joylessnightsky/@sanders-sides-fic)

[drawbauchery]

Search, Rescue, Pizza

fic by cartoons-tothemoon 

It wasn’t like Private was incompetent. He was a genuinely good agent, and as capable as anyone really expected a “new” recruit to be. There were even times where he was able to get the best of everybody else just because of his own understanding of their expectations of him and the skill he had when it came to reading his compatriots.

However, skill, experience, expectations didn’t determine how far removed from danger anyone could really be. If Skipper could be captured, even if it was during some off days, what does that say about the safety of everyone else?

Not the best of things to say the least.

———

Skipper didn’t know when Private was taken, but it had to be some time between walking home from a mission that left them overall in high spirits, and arriving at home only to realize something was off. Skipper generally lead the charge anyhow, and had been planning a movie night to celebrate the successful mission, but as he jammed his needlessly large bag of miscellaneous tools into the closet, he watched as Kowalski followed him to go to his lab for a quick five minute touch-up, and Rico walking as casually as he could so he didn’t look so whipped to Julien despite everyone knowing otherwise, but no Private.

Skipper peered through the doorway and glanced around their hall. Nothing. Nobody.

Maybe he got stuck talking to Marlene in the lobby? He was the one who delivered rent to her every month, he might just be getting a stern talking to right now, but it was nowhere near the end of the month just yet, and it’s not as if any noise complaints were reasonable at this point given that they practically had the floor to themselves.

“Hey, Rico. Private was behind you, right?” He asked, trying to sound casual, catching Rico seconds away from bolting to Julien’s room.

He shrugged. “Sh-should’ve been.”

“Should’ve been? Was he?”

“I d-don’t know, I w-wasn’t real-really thinking about it.” Rico sounded slightly a bit more terse at this, but he could tell that there was something about Skipper that seemed just a little off. Skipper wasn’t an inherently anxious person, but he was rather paranoid, and those two aspects tended to be a thin line to walk across. His bravado and confidence usually lead to him being perceived as more paranoid than anything else, but the tightrope he walked seemed to sway in the anxiety direction just then as Skipper began to tug at his lip, a nervous habit he must’ve picked up from SOMEONE, but Rico didn’t know who, though it did explain why Skipper seemed to be always sporting a split and bloody lip from a “recent scuffle,” something that seemed to make Private dote on him more than usual.

“L-Look,” Rico sighed. “He pr-probably got s-sidetrack-ked on the walk ho-home. He p-probably s-saw one of those dre-dresses or horse d-dolls that he l-liked and stop-stopped by a sh-shop. Sim-simple as that. Wouldn’t be the f-first time” On some level, Rico thought that statement was a lie, a reasonable lie, but still a lie nonetheless. However, the statement calmed Skipper down somewhat, worrying or speculating about where Private was, wherever he may be, didn’t find him. If he calmed down and remained rational, or at least, rational for him, he’d be able to plan from there, and find where he might be.

The question at this point was more to see if Skipper would take the bait for it and understand the hidden meaning. It’s not like Skipper looked to Rico for emotional guidance, and communicating with him was always far more difficult than someone as direct and open as Julien.

It seemed as if he did, at least, as he blinked once or twice and pulled his hand away from his mouth, opening and closing his fist a few times before digging through his pockets muttering, “he better have charged his phone this time around…”

Rico watched as Skipper nervously navigated his phone to contact Private, the only reason he did so was due to the fact he wasn’t sure if he was dismissed yet, and the last thing he really wanted to do was leave Skipper unstable like this as well as alone at a time like this.

Skipper pressed a button to put the phone on speaker, and listened as it rang.

RING….RING….RING…

Skipper felt his hand shake with minor violent tremors as he waited in anticipation. On some level, he knew it was stupid to be this worried. Rico was probably right. Hell, maybe Private even stopped by the theatre for some popcorn, you know, the authentic stuff for their movie night, and they were all going to have a good laugh about this as Skipper worried over nothing, before he’d make them run wind sprints and-

“Hello, you have reached the mailbox of the cutest cadet in your little cavalry. I’m afraid he can’t answer the phone at the moment, as he’s a little tied up at the moment, but please feel free to give me your message at the beep. I’m sure he would LOVE hearing it…

…BEEP.”

———

Savio was a unique sort of force to be dealing with in the first place, rather distant from the field that the task force played in, as well as being a threat they acquired as a team, rather than somebody’s illustrious past coming back to haunt them.

Which, being honest, was a breath of fresh air for Skipper.

However, it meant a new level of Hell for Private. Maybe it was because of how kind and innocent and unassuming he was back before they knew of Savio’s true cannibalistic, drug dealing, hitmen hiring nature, but he seemed to take a liking to him, and that’s quite honestly the last thing most people would want in the first place. The fact that he’d send him love letters and dead rats made the process all the more creepy, and Skipper knew this.

“D-Did he r-really r-record a v-voicem-mail mes-message in 2020?” Rico murmured. “The excess.” It was a withdrawn way of making light of the situation that they seemed to be stuck in, not in a mean, disrespectful way, just as a way to bring Skipper down from the state that he seemed to be in now, which rendered him as an irritable wreck, the littlest thing could set him off.

Skipper’s knuckles clutched his phone in his hands hard until they turned white, and Skipper eyed Rico. Rico didn’t know what he was looking for, advice? Consultation? Something? Anything? He was the wrong person for all these things and both of them knew it. So he gave him something he could work with. That’s all he could do, really.

“Y-you’ll be f-faster alone.”

That seemed to relax Skipper immensely. His grip loosened, he let out the breath he was holding, and he resolved to grab his coat and headed out the door. He gave a solemn nod to Rico, which was his way of saying, “hey, thanks for that back there,” and Rico returned it with a finger gun that said “no problem.”

It wasn’t very communicative, and it reeked of a weird machismo that didn’t permeate the group dynamic of anyone else in the group, but it was theirs, and it worked.

Skipper slammed the door and could be heard running down the hall, and Rico, a little shaken at the events that had occurred, simply watched the closed door with a blank expression on his face.

Skipper seemed off as of late. More secretive or less, he couldn’t even be certain of that. But, regardless, it wasn’t his place, and he was sure Private could handle it anyhow, so why try?

If Skipper really wanted to talk to him, he would. Not that Rico thought he was one of those people people talked to about things anyhow.

Rico pondered such a thing for a time, but shrugged it off to go see his lovely boyfriend.  There was only so much he could really do anyhow, so why stress? Was he worried if Skipper could handle it on his own? Maybe slightly, but it was also Skipper he was talking about. If he was the group’s Swiss army knife, Skipper was something else entirely. Not only capable of wielding the multi-tool, but so many other trades and tricks and hats that Rico was certain he didn’t know them all. That’s fine, he had some skills he hadn’t demonstrated to Skipper either. It’s not like he needed to know anyhow, that applied to him and Skipper. And besides, getting back to the matter at hand, If Julien was taken from him, he’d want to handle matters on his own, too. Nothing wrong with that.

Nothing wrong with keeping it in the family, so to speak.

———

If there was one sort of unsavory character Private loathed outside of your general garden variety thug and the occasional badger, it had to be Savio. If Skipper and Hans gave off the vibes of feuding ex-lovers, Private was sure he and Savio gave off the vibe of a drunk guy flirting with a girl at the bar who’s clearly uninterested. That’s because that’s basically what those two relationships were, especially since Savio had cracked open the wine coolers.

Unlike most of their “visits,” Savio wasn’t so much as present. Private figured he had to be somewhere, but, as far as he knew, three random rough-looking guys had pulled him down an alley, put a bag over his head, tied him up, and were dangling him over a dangerous pit that Private figured was filled with the usual dangerous pit things - spikes, alligators, just being really deep and dark in general - but such items couldn’t be seen in the darkness of the warehouse.

Private figured it was Savio the minute the bag was removed from his head. Savio always picked seedy warehouses for kidnapping, considering he usually owned the companies that held the wares in the first place, so he didn’t have to resort to abandoned factories and the ilk like every other kingpin in the criminal underworld did, but, it’s not like knowing this really helped him. If anything, it reminded him of the dire straits he was in.

Savio was fond of him. It was a creepy sort of fondness that never brought him any sort of comfort, but, that just meant that the warehouse men had no predilections about roughing him up before dangling over the pit, and boy, could he really feel it. Especially in his head, if he wasn’t so aware of the dangers of concussions, he’d be trying less hard to stay awake in the hopes that sleep would dull the pain on its own.

He didn’t know what Savio was looking for, or even if these guys were working for Savio at all. But he wish he did. Ransom, victim, damsel…If he knew his role, it’d be all the better for him to understand what was going on, and his fate.

If only he hadn’t dawdled so much, maybe he wouldn’t be in this situation. Maybe if he wasn’t just regarded as slow and silly and cute, he wouldn’t have been captured at all. It wasn’t like Skipper or Rico were kidnapped. They were regarded as too dangerous to risk such a thing. Even Kowalski was considered far more capable than he was worth.

And that just left Private.

Poor, sweet, innocent, naive, helpless Private.

If he loosened the ropes around his wrists, he’d fall into the pit. If he fell into the pit, he has no idea what was lurking for him down there, or if the fall would be enough to kill him alone. And it’s not like he could swing to avoid the pit entirely given that the idiot henchmen never removed the bag from his head, honestly, how unprofessional…

Though, given his lack of sight, he was able to focus more on what he could feel, and at the moment, he could feel the tension on the rope getting more taught as something seemed to put a weight on the rope. It made his heart stutter in his chest from the fear of the whole ordeal, but there was no point in making a sound outside of the startled gasp that was muffled by the canvas bag over his head.

He felt whoever was climbing down the rope climb down to his level, based on how they hung on the rope. They wrapped their legs around them, and seemed to have one hand on the rope, and the other…sawing away at the rope that held his tied-up wrists. Private felt the rope becoming looser with each methodical swing of the blade, but it didn’t make him any more certain that he’d be safe. He could still fall, and he had no idea who this really was either. He supposed he HAD to trust them, if only because of what the alternative would mean for him.

He felt the rope loosen at last, and even though he tried to swallow it, he couldn’t help but give out a short scream before the figure had caught his wrist, which alerted the henchmen based on their muttering.

“Well, well, well, looks like we got some unfinished business to tend to.”

“Skipper?”

The figure, now better known as Skipper, swung on the rope with Private in one hand and the rope in the other, landing on the other side on his feet, even if Private didn’t do the same, and seemed to charge forward to fight the henchmen. That’s how Private was able to recall the events anyhow, given that he was only able to get the bag off after Skipper had already had the one of the other henchman in a sleeper choke, and the other was down, leaving only one to go. As soon as the henchman fell to the ground, Skipper was able to avoid a swing from a pipe by moving in close, landing a kick to the stomach, a knee to the groin, and an uppercut to the chin to take the guy out for good.

Skipper shook his knuckles distastefully as he breathed a sigh of relief.

“That’s always a good way to blow off some steam,” he muttered, and turned around to be met with Private running into his arms for a hug, almost knocking him off his feet. There seemed to be something very poetic about the idea that he was able to take down men twice his size in practically an instant, but Private could knock him out, and he’d fall apart. Of course, Skipper wasn’t really a poet, so such a concept kind of eluded him.

After a few moments of holding him close, Skipper pulled back. Private’s injuries were luckily, rather mild. A split lip here, a large bruise on his forehead there, and some tears in his eye. All things rather easily fixed, though, despite this, Private avoided eye contact.

“Let’s get out of here.”

———

On their way home, they got sidetracked. The whole atmosphere seemed to be off since they left the place, with Private refusing to even look at Skipper, though holding on to his shirt with a wrought-iron grip and Skipper feeling the need to fidget in a way that didn’t register as suspicious. Private wasn’t a fan of when Kowalski began picking at his nails as a nervous tic, and worked hard to break him of the habit. He was sure that Private wouldn’t be a fan of something that actually caused him to bleed.

They stopped by a pizzeria. To clean their wounds, to decompress, and to grab a bite, considering that they were both rather certain that Kowalski, Rico, and Julien were probably all asleep on the couch right now, even if they didn’t mention it to the other. Private sat down at a booth and after Skipper ordered two slices of pizza for the two of them and a lemonade for Private, he returned to the table with a small first aid kit to care for their wounds.

Private seemed tired. He seemed distant. This seemed very unlike him. He usually bounced back from kidnappings and similar incidents no problem, but tonight…felt different. Hurt differently. Skipper dabbed at Private’s forehead with more hesitance than he had before. Private sipped his drink.

“Are you alright?” Skipper asked, pulling back.

Private looked at him for the first time that night and nodded slightly.

“Are you sure?” He asked with more hesitance. These were very hard questions for him to ask in the first place, but the last thing he wanted was to neglect Private at a time like this, even if he considered this whole thing to be outside of his wheelhouse.

Private hesitated, but nodded again.

Skipper took a stab at the issues. “Kidnapping gotcha’ down?”

Private mumbled something before slumping onto the table.

“What was that?”

“I’m not worth this!” He said, a little louder than necessary before returning to his position at the table and crying. Skipper jumped at the loud response, but felt his heart go out to Private when he realized what was going on.

“What do you mean?”

“I’m not worth ki-kidnapping…I’m not WORTH rescuing…This all happened because I was slow and distracted and, and-“

Skipper carefully lifted his face off the table, in a compassionate move that surprised even him.

“You should be worrying about yourself! Not me!” Private accused. “You look like you got totaled in that fight, your knuckles are bruised, your lip is split, your face is scratched, and it’s all my fault!” Private leaned back and continued to sob into his hands. Skipper brought his finger to his lip in a self-soothing motion. He didn’t know what to say, he didn’t know what to do…What would Private do if this was him? Would he ever be in a scenario where this would be him? Would he even be able to face him like that…

Skipper sighed, quietly. He got up from his side of the booth, and moved to Private’s side, where he had himself pressed up against the wall. Skipper bumped his shoulder against Private’s to make his presence known, but that didn’t stop the crying. What could he say to comfort him? That if he wasn’t taken a civilian would be? That would be comparing him to a civilian instead of a fully trained soldier in his own right…he wouldn’t dream of demeaning him like that…he pondered more.

“I saved you because I wanted to,” was what he settled on after an agonizing set of minutes. He stared straight ahead as he said it, not trusting himself to look at Private. This got Private to lower his hands and sniffle, not cry.

Skipper continued on. “If I really thought you weren’t worth it, I wouldn’t have rescued you the first time that this happened. But you are worth it, so I-we do.”

Private wiped his eyes.

“You’re valuable to the team in ways we don’t often acknowledge. You’re people smart, you know what people are thinking when I myself…can be a tad insensitive. You think outside of the box, I can’t think of how many missions were saved because you think so differently from us. You’re artistic. You’re sensitive. You’re compassionate.”

Skipper turned to Private then, seeing him staring at him with big blue eyes so filled with…something for him. “Quite frankly, why wouldn’t I want to save you?”

Private blinked a few times, and Skipper was nervous that he was going to cry again, but he simply rested his head on Skipper’s shoulder and closed his eyes.

“Thank you.”

Skipper himself, once he realized the situation he was in, contemplated things. He grabbed a sip of the lemonade, wincing when he remembered the cuts on his lips. He was going to have to get used to that. Private didn’t seem to respond in the slightest to the stinging sensation. He must’ve been tired.

Skipper sighed. What a night. What a town. What a place for them to be.

A few minutes later, some greasy teen who was clearly giving Skipper a look that read something Skipper didn’t understand, or didn’t trust, dropped off two paper plates with some greasy pizza on them, and walked back to the counter.

He was perceived. He was perceived and he was known. He didn’t know what he was perceived or known as, but he was nonetheless. It didn’t matter what they were or who or their situation or anything because this teen clearly had their own their own ideas. Surely, they must. And yet, the world didn’t stop.

The world didn’t end. Sure, the world seemed to be holding its breath, but that was purely because it was dawn. What about the world didn’t seem to be at a standstill at dawn?

Well, if the teen had their own ideas about who they were and who they must be, then was it so wrong for Skipper to allow himself to follow such roles? To conform to the ideals of a single member of the masses just once?

Of course, that was the justification he gave himself in order to allow himself to stroke Private’s head in a soothing, comforting sort of way, after he had long since fallen asleep.

The city that never slept seemed to be allowing them to have their moment, just this once. Skipper never felt more tired, and yet more awake at the same time, as he made a silent vow to make sure that Private never felt that he wasn’t worth saving ever again.

(Gosh, I’m so sorry this took so long! This was supposed to be for Valentine’s day believe it or not. I’m glad I got to show Rico and Skipper being buds, in which their dynamic is like they’re straight dudebros, but also gay which makes them more aware that they’re doing this machismo thing on some level? Like they clearly care, but they also don’t want it to look like they care due to some baggage they have surrounding masculinity or something? I don’t know how to describe it, I think that might be a fun dynamic to play with.  Also it’s MY fanfic and I get to project the nervous tics! As well as applying stuff from my Tae Kwon Do class! Also this was supposed to be way less…sad? I dunno. I don’t know much at all.)

(Also! Apparently I’ve written 15,000 words of pining penguins? Wow…So this is my life now, huh? Could be worse.)

[chickensarentcheap]

Best Part of Me -Chapter 15

Warnings: none really

Tagging: @c-a-v-a-l-r-y​, @alievans007​, @thunderintheshadows​, @innerpaperexpertcloud​

The chime of the doorbell startles him awake; eyes snapping open, brain foggy and disoriented as it tries to figure out just what the noise was. The moment both the baby and Declan had started yawning and fussing, he’d laid down with them in the living room; Addie on his chest, his son tucked securely between him and the back of the couch. He’s certain he’d drifted off before either of them had; a hand placed protectively on Addie’s back; an arm wrapped his son. Lulled to sleep by the warmth of their bodies and the sound of their soft, steady breathing. The house quiet and peaceful. The three oldest at school, Esme out with her brother, and nothing but the sound of the ocean and the cool, steady breeze that filters through the windows. 

 The noise becomes more insistent, pausing momentarily before into one long, incessant tone. At first he reaches for his cell phone that rests on the coffee table, brain still attempting to straighten itself out and register exactly what the sound is, where it’s coming from, where he is, and even what day it is. He’d gone back on the Valium that morning as soon as the kids got on the bus, and it hit him almost immediately; making him drowsy and lightheaded, causing him to sweat profusely and develop a pounding headache. Now he feels as if his senses are impaired; sounds muffled as if he’s trying to hear underwater, his vision blurry.   And in a near euphoric state he thinks about how he never even knew they had a doorbell; or at least he didn’t know what it sounded like.  No one’s ever used it in the past six months that they’d been living there; delivery drivers and the postal carrier all resorting to knocking or leaving things on the chair by the front door; spurred on to do so by a handwritten letter Esme had taped to the mailbox that stated if anyone dared waked the baby or bothered her while feeding, there’d be ‘hell to pay’. 

 It becomes apparent that whoever is at the door isn’t going away, and he attempts to slip off the couch without waking either of the kids. Declan the biggest obstacle with his sweaty body and damp hair pressed tightly against him.  And he manages to slide his arm out from underneath the sleeping toddler, who only gives a loud, content sigh and rolls over, pressing his face into the cushions.  Then he stands, placing Addie in the portable playpen in the middle of the room and using a foot to push the coffee table out of the way in case Declan rolls over and falls off the couch. The last he needs is having to haul two kids to the hospital for a concussion or stitches. Or both.  

 As he heads for the door, he briefly considers grabbing some clothes and throwing them on; it would really set off the religious zealots that often travelled door to door if he was to answer in nothing but a pair of low slung boardshorts, body covered in a myriad of tattoos and scars. He’d already gone to the door once in the same fashion: a group startled and slightly scared little old ladies collecting things for a church food drive. But when he hears Addie begin to fuss, he decides against clothes, only caring about wanting to get the goddamn noise to stop. 

 When he finally answers, the blond on the other side of the door opens her mouth to speak, then abruptly stops; clamping her lips shut as her eyes widen and she slowly looks him up and down.  Normally he’d be self-conscious; that the once over is in nothing more than a mixture of shock and concern due to the number of scars that mar his body.  He’d never given a shit before; until his brain decided to turn against him and try and make his life a living hell. But there’s no curiosity or concern regarding his battle wounds; this once over was one of admiration. And he can’t stop the smirk that tugs at the corner of his mouth. 

 “Who are you?” Tyler asks, checking the driveway for any unfamiliar cars, then glancing towards the woods and then down the road, checking to see if she was alone or if there was anyone lying in wait. 

  It’s a hell of a way to live; thinking everyone is the enemy.  But he’s stepped on a lot of toes and made a lot of enemies. And while you may physically leave the job, you’re never fully clear of it. Not until you die. Then and only then is your slate wiped clean. 

 “Never mind that,” she replies. “Who are YOU? The pool boy?” 

 He frowns. “What?” 

 “Well dressed like that. Looking like...that. I just assumed that maybe...” 

 “I live here,” Tyler informs her. 

 “With Esme and the husband?” 

 “I am the husband.” 

 “You?” she gives a started laugh. “You’re the husband?” 

 “For the last six and a half years.” 

 “Okay...hold up,” she chews pensively on her bottom lip, head cocked to the side as she regards him. “You’re Esme’s husband?” 

 “Am I not speaking English? I just said I was.” 

 “She told me her husband is retired.” 

 “Yeah? I am. And?” 

 “So I’m sure you can understand why this...why you...are a bit of a surprise. I was expecting someone that actually looks retired.  Someone a lot older. And someone not as...” she once more looks him over from head to toe. “...well, not so you.” 

 “Look,” he rakes his fingers through his messy hair and scratches at the back of his head. “Not to sound like a total dick...” 

 “Too late.” 

 “...but who the hell are you? And why are you on my doorstep?” 

 “I’m Salena.” 

 “The new neighbor.” 

 “The one and only,” she confirms, and holds out a hand. “And you’re Tyler.” 

 He nods, hesitating at first, then shaking the hand offered to him. “Why are you here?” 

 “I was hoping to see Esme. I come bearing gifts,” she holds up a reusable shopping bag. “I told her last night when we were texting that I made a killer Dorito taco salad that she needed to try and that I make some up. Enough for all of you. Is she home?” 

 “She’s out with her brother.” 

 “The cute firefighter,” she states. 

 Tyler shrugs. “If you say he’s cute I’ll take your word for it, I guess.” 

 “I had messaged her saying I was going to pop by, but I never heard back. So, I’d thought I’d just run over and see what’s up.” 

 “I’m honestly so confused right now. I just woke up and my brain isn’t functioning properly yet. How you even know my wife?” 

 “We’ve been hanging out. Since we met the other days when I was moving the last of my stuff. She was taking the two littlest ones for a walk and Declan saw my dog and got away from her...” 

 “Wait. You know Declan too?”  It was the one that he absolutely hated; Esme taking it upon herself to allow strangers around his kids. She’s too trusting; too quick to see the good in everyone yet not even stopping to look for the bad. He doesn’t trust anyone. Aside from her.  And regardless of what she thinks of how paranoid she thinks he’s is; everyone is a possible threat. 

 “He’s my absolute favorite. He’s just such a little charmer. That smile and those eyes? I can see where he gets them. The eyes. Not the smile because you haven’t cracked one once since you answered the door. You do smile right?” 

 “Look, I had a rough night. I barely slept. You woke me up.  I don’t even know what day it is right now, to be honest.” 

 “It’s Friday,” she informs him. “I’m the one that watched Declan yesterday. So Esme could have said time to herself. Well she had the baby.  I just thought maybe she needed a break. That’s a lot to handle. Five kids.” 

 He tries hard to hide the anger that seeps into his voice. “You watched my kid?” 

 Salena nods. 

 “Yet I don’t even know who you are. You watched my kid, yet this is the first time we’ve met. And you’ve been hanging out with my wife?” 

 “Yeah, you know. Lunch. Girl talk. Stuff like that. She didn’t tell you? It must have just slipped her mind. I know she has a lot going on. Do you know when she’ll be back?” 

 Tyler shakes his head. 

 “Is it okay if I wait here for her or...” 

 He arches an eyebrow. “Here?” 

 “Where else?” 

 “I don’t usually let women into the house when my wife’s not home. That’s how rumors and shit start and I don’t need any more drama in my life. So I don’t think that’s a good idea. And I’m kinda busy with the little ones so...” 

 “I could help,” Salena offers 

 “I don’t need help. I’m not a rookie. And there’s nothing down there for you,” he informs her, when her eyes wander below his waist. “So if you could just...I don’t know...stop.” 

 A slight blush creeps into her cheeks. “Do you always walk around in no underwear?” 

 “You always question what people do in their own house?” Tyler counters. 

 “Touche.” 

 “If you weren’t looking down there so much and so closely, you wouldn’t even know I wasn’t wearing any.” 

 “Oh, I’d know,” she boldly responds. “That’s kind of hard not to notice.” 

 “Is there a reason you’re here or...” 

 “Like I said, I’m here to see Esme.” 

 “And like I said, she’s not home. You’ll have to come back. Or call her. Or text. I dunno.  But I’ve got little ones in the next room, so...” 

 “Yes! Sorry! I won’t keep you any longer!” She offers the shopping bag and he reluctantly takes it.  “I just...wow...you are definitely NOT what I was expecting. At all. Wow. Okay, I’m gonna go. If I don’t hear from Esme, will you let her know I came by?” 

 “How am I going to know if you didn’t get in touch with her?” he asks, as he steps out onto the front porch, quickly checking the mail before once against surveying the road and for any sign of remotely suspicious activity along the tree line. 

 “That!” she points at him, as she walks backwards down the front walk, bumping into one of the recycling bins that sit at the curb, giving it an awkward apology and then giggling in embarrassment. “Is a very good point! I’m going to go now. I just...wow...totally not what I thought you were going to look like. And now I’m rambling and making a total fool out myself.” 

 “Just a bit,” Tyler agrees. 

  “Oh! She calls to him before he can step inside. “Weird question, I know. But did someone come to your door last night? Around two am? Because someone showed up at my place and knocked for like ten straight minutes.” 

 “That would have been my very drunk brother in law. I think he was looking for a hook up.” 

 “Well if that’s the case, tell him to come to the back door next time. I’ll answer for sure then.” 

 Tyler just smirks and shakes his head, both amused and annoyed by her honesty, and then closes the door behind him. 

 *** 

 “Maybe we can try this again,” Kyle says, as they settle into a table on the Sovereign's outdoor patio. “Maybe we can make it through the meal without fighting.” 

 “Technically we didn’t start fighting until after dinner,” Esme points out. 

 “And technically you were the only one causing a scene, so...” 

 “Fair enough,” she surrenders, and places her hobo style purse and her lone shopping back on the ground, cell phone on the tabletop. “This isn’t a set-up is it? I’m not going to get five minutes into lunch and Nik will show up?” 

 “Nik’s gone.” 

 Esme arches an eyebrow. 

 “Not gone, gone. So don’t get your hopes up. She got a call last night. About a job in Venezuela. Needed to be there within a few hours or all hell was going to break loose.” 

 “Nature of the beast. You get used to those phone calls, unfortunately.” 

 “I thought maybe she’d slow down a little after we got engaged and started planning a wedding,” Kyle says. “I thought maybe that was enough to keep her busy and occupied, but...” he shrugs, and flips open his menu. 

 “Nik doesn’t do the job because she needs to keep busy or occupied. She does the job because she IS the job. She’s always been hard core about it. Completely devoted. Not to mention, she’s the boss. It’s her own company. And she has a lot of people relying on her to keep things running smoothly and to keep them safe. It’s a lot of pressure. A lot of stress. I wouldn’t to do it. Run the show.” 

 Kyle smirks. “Did you actually just pay Nik a compliment in some weird, back hand way?” 

 “I have nothing against job Nik.  I actually admire THAT Nik. It’s the other Nik I can't stand. The one that spent six and a half years trying to destroy my marriage. And...” she holds up her hand in a plea for silence when Kyle opens his mouth to speak. “...I know Tyler and I aren’t perfect. That things have never been conventional or normal between us. But that’s the way we are. And that doesn’t give her a right or a reason to try and bang my husband. So don’t even try to defend that.” 

 “I agree that that part is a little messed up.” 

 “You think?” Esme rummages through her purse for the bottle of recently purchased prescription meds. The doctor immediately writing out the order when she couldn’t get through the first thirty seconds of describing how she was feeling without bursting into tears. 

 “So you get used to it?” Kyle asked. 

 “What? Some trifling bitch trying to wreck your marriage?” She pops one of the pills into her mouth and swallows it down with ice water. “No. You don’t.” 

 “Not that. The job. The phone calls. Them leaving at a moment’s notice. Now what you’re doing or talking about at the time. You do get it used to it, right?” 

 “I don’t know if you get used to it. But you learn to tolerate it. I’ve had phone calls come in at some pretty inopportune times, let me tell you.” 

 “How inopportune?” 

 “Let’s just say, Nik and her phone calls are the epitome of cock blocking.” 

 Kyle nearly spits a mouthful of water across the table. 

 “Right?” Esme laughs. Talk about bad timing! But in Tyler’s defense, he did always finish the job at hand. So...” 

 “Okay, that is too much information. I don’t think about you two...you know...finishing.” 

 “Kyle, despite what you think, I’d have sex more than five times. I just don’t have it to procreate, you know. It happens to be a lot of fun.” 

 “I do not what to think about those things when it comes to my little sister, okay? I know you’re a wife and a mother and all of that, but you’re still my kid sister. I still want to beat the hell out of any guy that touches you.” 

 She laughs and sips her water. “I’d love to see you try.” 

 “And totally get my ass handed to me? No thanks.” 

 She grins. “That’s the first time I’ve ever heard you admit defeat.” 

 “I’m not stupid,” he chuckles. “This is Tyler we’re talking about. I’ve heard about the shit he’s done. What he’s capable of. And he’s totally capable of killing me with his bare hands.” 

 Esme nods in agreement. 

 “Aren’t you scared? You know what he can do. You know the things he’s done. Aren’t you even a little bit afraid? Of him?” 

 She shakes her head. “I’ve never been afraid of him. Ever. And I’ve seen his temper at its worst. He’d never hurt me. Or the kids. I have no reason to be scared of him.” 

 “But what if he snaps on day? What if everything that’s going on his brain just becomes too much and it gives way? What...” 

 “Tyler would never...ever...do anything to hurt me. I’m not scared of him. I’ve never been scared of him. It’s the opposite, actually. He makes me feel safe. Protected. Because I know if anyone ever tries to get to me or the kids, he’s more than capable of stopping them. He’s not a monster, K.” 

 “I never said he was. But that kind of job? Being a mercenary? And doing it as long as he did?” 

 “Tyler was never the job. The job was just part of him. I’ve known a lot of mercenaries. A lot. Guys that allowed the job to totally take them over. To the point you didn’t even recognize them anymore.  That’s that all they are. Callous, cold, calculated, violent. Extremely violent. And horrifically abusive. To everyone. Girlfriends, spouses, kids.” 

 Kyle gives a small, almost sad smile. “Nik’s told me some stories.” 

 “Tyler would kill himself before he ever hurt me or the kids. He’d put a bullet in his brain if he ever got like that. I’m not scared of him. I never have been. And don’t underestimate me. I could put him on his ass if I ever had to.” 

 Her brother laughs at that. 

 “He’d never do anything to us. That’s the last thing you need to worry about. He was never like those other guys. I guess that’s what really set him apart; what I found really intriguing about him. Out of all the mercenaries I’ve worked alongside of and knowing the stories that revolved around him, I expected him to be one of them. And he wasn’t. He was still human. And you may not see it because he’s stubborn and thinks he has to hide certain sides of himself, but he’s a good person, K. A good person who’s had to do some terrible things to stay alive. He’s a big man with an even bigger hurt. You just have to be fortunate enough to get to experience it.” 

 “I see how he was with you. How he is with the rugrats. He adores those kids. And worships the ground you walk on. I mean, I think you’re an annoying bitch, but...” 

 She smirks and directs a kick to his shin. 

 “But I see how he is with you. You guys share a pretty profound bond, you know. You saved his life. Literally.” 

 “I did what anyone would do,” Esme reasons. “You save people all the time.” 

 “That’s my job.” 

 “I wasn’t going to let him die there. And I definitely wasn’t going to let someone hold me back and expect me to just stand there and watch him die.” 

 “Esme,” Kyle sighs. “Don’t bring Nik into this.” 

 “She left him there. She didn’t even want anyone to get to him to help. What kind of person does that? He became expendable. The job was done, and she need him anymore. And she was willing to let me die on that bridge too. I know you love her, but least accept the truth on who she is and what she’s capable of.” 

 A server comes to take their drink and food order, and Esme gives he a smile of appreciation and hands her the menu. 

 “I saved Tyler because he deserved better than the end he was being given.” she says. “Because no matter how badly he thought he deserved death, he deserved a second chance more. You learn a lot about someone when you’re running for your life and trusting them to get keep you alive, believe me.” 

 “And when you spend five days in a hotel room pretend to be married to them,” Kyle grins.  

 “I’m not talking about what their favorite sexual positions are or how kinky they can be. And trust me, he can be extremely dirty.” 

 Kyle grimaces. “I do not need to hear this.” 

 “And regardless of what you or Nik think, it wasn’t just sex. Those five says. It’s  not like we never spoke to each other. We talked. A lot. We told each other things we’d never told anyone else. So it wasn’t just physical connection, as amazing as that was. It was more than that. Way more. I wouldn’t have stuck around in Australia and spent months sleeping in a chair at the hospital if it wasn’t.” 

 “And now here you are. Married, five kids.” 

 She nods. 

 “Honestly, I never expected this from you. Especially after Mark. After all the shit he put you through…" 

 “Well sometimes someone comes along and shows you that not all men are the same. That not all love hurts. I was lucky. Not everyone gets that chance.” 

 “I gotta hand it to you, kid. You’ve come a long way.” 

 “I didn’t mean to cause issues between you and Nik,” she says. “Just so you know. That wasn’t my intention. But we’d give up that life. That’s why we left Colorado. To start fresh. And suddenly she just shows up? Asking for his help? Again? He’s shed enough blood for her. Tyler owes her nothing.” 

 “It’s not she’s asking him to go back out there,” Kyle reasons. “She just needs his help. With Ovi.” 

 “And don’t even get me started about that! Her encouraging this with Ovi.  After everything that’s kid been through? For years we’ve struggled to get that kid healthy. Mentally healthy. And he gets some stupid ass idea in his head and instead of telling him how stupid it is, she encourages him! Recruits him. You must be able to see how screwed up that is.” 

 “He’s not a kid anymore,” Kyle reasons. “He’s a grown man.” 

 “He’s my kid. No matter how old he is. This is a horrible idea, K. Ovi deserves so much better than this. And something or someone has gotten into his head and poisoned him to the point he thinks this is a smart, viable option. Nothing good will come of this. Nothing. For Ovi. For Tyler.” 

 “All Tyler has to do is train him. That’s it.” 

 “And you think that’s enough?” she gives a dry laugh. “I’ll you what. You put in some of the leg work. Spend a couple of days when them ‘training’. It's not as simple and basic as you’re making it out to be. Try it. One day eve. And then see you how you feel about it.” 

 “Maybe I will.” 

 “Go ahead. I know you think you’re a total bad ass, bit you now idea what it all entails. No idea. But if you think it’s that easy, then come on over and Tyler will put you through the paces. You’re probably be crying for mom when it’s over. If you even last that long. You’ve been to the gym with him; you know how hard core goes.” 

 Kyle nods. 

 “Imagine that times...I don’t know...twenty. And that’s if he’s slacking. Don’t underestimate him. You can the take man out of the job, but you can’t take the job out of the man.” 

 “You think he’ll go back?” Kyle asks. “That he’ll get the itch? That just training won’t be enough.” 

 “I’ve told him that if he has to go...if Ovi gets into trouble and needs his help.... that’s fine. I’ll support him one hundred percent. But if he willingly goes for any other reason, we’re done. I’m done. I’m leaving and I’m taking kids with me. No looking back. I cut my loses and that’s that.” 

 He frowns. “That seems a little harsh.” 

 “I can’t do that life again. I just can’t. And I love him, but I love my kids more. And they deserve better than that life. They deserve a father that’s devoted to them and only them. And he can’t be if he goes back to the job. He just can’t.” 

 “So you’d just take off and take his kids?” 

 “I didn’t say he wouldn’t be able to see them. Because I’d never do that to him. Or them. But they need a stable, calm environment. And when he’s doing the job, our house is anything but stable and calm. It’s not what’s best for the kids. Not Tyler. Not me. Them.” 

 “Well for his sake, I hope he does the right thing and doesn’t fuck up. That’d probably kill him losing his kids.” 

 “Don’t put that on me, Kyle. It’s hard enough making that kind of decision, but adding that kind of guilt to it?” 

 “That wasn’t what I was trying to do, and you know it. But you honestly go to that extreme? Taking his kids away from him?” 

 “I wouldn’t be taking them away. They’d still see him. It’s about giving them a stable environment. And nothing is stable when it comes to the job. Because first the job comes about, then the drinking, then the fighting. You don’t know what it was really like, K. You only know half of what went on in our house.” 

 “Couldn’t have been that bad,” he comments. “You guys got back together. After you split for those six months.” 

 “Because he promised to get his shit together and said he wanted to work on things and make them better. And you know what? That lasted about eight months. And then it all started all over again. All because of the stupid goddamn job and because of Nik’s inability to leave him alone.” 

 “Esme, we said we weren’t going to fight. And if you bring up Nik, that’s exactly what’s going to happen, and you know it. If you didn’t want me with her, why’d you even set me up with her in the first place?” 

 “Because she was way too good to be stuck with Mark. No one deserved to be stuck with that asshole.” 

 “So what? You used me to get her away from Mark? What...?” 

 “I didn’t think anything would actually happen between you two,” she admits. “At least nothing serious. I thought you’d have your fun for a little bit and then move on. You’d never been interested in settling down before. I never thought you’d start thinking about it when you met her.” 

 “That’s messed up. Using your own brother like that. Here I thought you did it because you wanted me to happy.” 

 “Of course I want you to be happy. I just don’t want you to be happy with her.” 

 Kyle gives a derisive snort and shakes his head. 

 “You’re too good for you,” Esme informs her. 

 “First, she’s too good for Mark, now I’m too good for her?” 

 “You deserve someone...I don’t know...different. Someone who can devote themselves to you. Who isn’t so hung up on their career. Someone who’d be happy being a firefighter’s wife. And believe, there’s tons of girls like that out there.” 

 “Maybe that’s not the type I want. Maybe I want someone who has more going for her. If you were that against this, why didn’t you say something before? Instead of waiting until four months before the wedding. A wedding which you...my own sister...hasn’t even committed to yet.” 

 “Have you ever thought maybe I’m not comfortable being there? Kyle’ she’s spent years trying to fuck up my marriage. And now I’m just supposed to be okay with hers?” 

 “I’m your brother.” 

 “Exactly. You are. Which means something should have told you marrying the woman spent six and a half years trying to fuck mt husband wasn’t a good idea.” 

 “Honestly, I didn’t think anything of it. I thought you’d grown up enough to let it go. She tried, he turned her down. End of story.” 

 “So you’re okay with being married to someone with no morals?” 

 “You’re okay with it,” he retorts. “You’re married to someone who killed people for a living.” 

 Esme scowls. “That’s not the same thing and you know it.” 

 “You’re right. It’s not. It’s even worse. You’re going to preach to me about morals when you’re married to hired killer? Who you were fucking three days after you met him.  And you think you’re somehow morally superior?” 

 “That’s low, Kyle. Nik has enough blood on her hands herself. Including Tyler’s.” 

 “And you’re still holding onto that. It’s been almost what? Seven years? Since Dhaka? And you’re still holding onto that?” 

 “Oh I’m sorry,” she scoffs. “You watch someone you love get shot in the throat. You have them bleed out all over you. You stick your fingers in their neck to try and keep them alive. And then you tell me how easy it is to get over.” 

 The server arrives with their food, breaking the tension that has fallen on the table.  And Esme takes a sip of her water in a vain attempt to wash down the lump of emotion that now sits firmly on their throat. 

 “You have no idea what was like,” she scowls, as she uses her fork to stab at the salad on her plate. “Saying what I saw. Doing what I did. You have no clue, Kyle. And you have no right downplaying it and telling me to just ‘get over it’.” 

 “It’s been almost seven years,” he gently reminds her. 

 “And sometimes it feels like it’s only been seven days. So until you’re at in that kind of situation...and I hope you never ate...you need to keep your advice and your opinions to yourself. If you want to marry Nik, go ahead. But I won’t be there. None of us well. I love you. But I don’t agree with what you’re doing. If it were anyone but here, I’d be there.  But after what she’s done...after she was going to leave us there...I’m not going to pretend that I’m happy for you. Because I’m not. I know what she’s like and I know what your life is going to be like. You’re going to spend it being second to the job. And you deserve so much better than that.” 

 “So do you,” Kyle says. “But you stick around.” 

 “Don’t ever compare Tyler to her. Because you know that’s complete and utter bullshit. He is nothing like her.” 

 “You keep telling yourself that, Esme. Maybe one day you’ll believe it.” 

 “Don’t even put the two together in a sentence. If you want to marry her and never have a normal marriage or kids of a stable life, go ahead. But I’m supporting that bullshit.: 

 Kyle sighs heavily. “You’re even more stubborn than I remember.” 

 “I’m not stubborn. I’m just sick of peoples’ shit. Hers. Yours. Why couldn’t she just leave us alone? We were happy. Things were great. And now all of the drama is back again. And I’m had it up to my eyeballs in Nik drama.” 

 She sighs heavily when her phone vibrates against the table, then grins when she checks the text message. 

 “Apparently you’ve made an impression on my neighbor,” she says. 

 “Salena?” 

 Esme nods. “I guess she stopped by the house and Tyler told her you showed up at her place last night looking for a piece of ass. And she actually believed him. Now she wants me to give you her cell and her home number. You know shit is getting real when someone gives up their home number. Do you want them or...?” 

 “I’m engaged,” he reminds her. “I’m getting married in four months.” 

 “That means you have four months to change your mind.” 

 “Esme...” 

 “Don’t be so difficult,” she snags his cell from where it sits next to his plate and proceeds to add Salena’s name, info, and numbers into his contacts. “Trust me. You’ll thank me for this.” 

 He somehow doubts that.

[sarasfm]

Sarauniya “ Sara ” Davies, 24, pansexual, cisfemale, ISFP Enneagram 9w1; Pisces sun, Sagittarius moon, Pisces rising 1st year Advanced Encryption Major; did not go to a spy prep hs

Imma keep it real with you, chief, I have absolutely no idea what’s going on. I mean, obviously, I know what espionage is ; I’ve read books and articles, and I’ve seen Spy Kids and all the Charlies Angels and James Bond movies, but I genuinely think I need a minute to wrap my head around everything. Make that two weeks, because what’s this I hear about two murders ?  I literally just got sent here to be safe, I — I’m sorry, I’m freaking out. Give me five seconds, and we can start again, because I promise I can totally pretend this is all normal. @gallagherintro​

full name: sarauniya “ sara ” davies

dormitory room: 105

birthday: 20 march 1995

soundtrack: “ go gina ” by sza

favorite dish: efo riro

aesthetic:  when i see them walking around in the halls, i usually see a flash of light reflecting from her earrings, eyeglasses perched on top of her head, and a caviar iphone always in her hands

Bio Points

her mom’s a nigerian baddie billionaire & her dad’s a soft academic brit

she grew up between london and abuja where their family’s business is based. it’s a trading enterprise, the largest industrial conglomerate in sub-saharan africa

she’s the eldest of three siblings, was raised to be prim & proper and groomed to run their family’s business. her family’s not pushy though and they’re really cool. very healthy dynamic so she doesn’t mind ; she loves her fam and would do it w a smile !

Coding is her Passion though. total dork. stayed up all the time just sleuthing and being an internet geek since she was a youngin’

loves education and is the type who would willingly stay in school to learn. has a degree in economics from harvard and was almost done with her mba when her littlest sister got abducted !  was it about business ? money ? who knows ! the sister’s fine now but her family sure is Scared especially since sara’s alone in the big bad united states

her mom made some calls and went “ gimbiya, look, u aint safe n we sorry. we’ll work something out to make sure u get ur mba degree somehow but shit is wild so we gotta get u somewhere near that’s safe asap. u like studying & ur a geek with computers right ? cool beans, go back to school & welcome to gallagher, babe ”

she enters gallagher in the middle of the spring semester very overwhelmed & inwardly ignoring how unhappy she is about having to be here bc she is not & does not want to be a spy. she just tryna distract herself by looking at this entire thing as a weird vacation where she can do stuff she wasn’t able to before because it’s literally detached from the world. she is mostly probably in way over her head, but let’s see ! 

Other Information

Nicknames: Sara (to everyone), gimbiya (to family, means princess in Hausa)

Languages: English (native), Hausa (native), Arabic (C1), French (B2)

Strengths: is money a strength ? also coding. and being the sweetest. and a general smartypants but that’s in a university setting & gallagher probably doesnt give a fuck

Relationship History: only has one (1) experience. ( well,,, 2 if a three-second drunken kiss w kass counts ) his name’s royce and they’ve known each other since their bougie secondary school back in britain. started dating at sixteen and went to harvard together. they’re long term as fuck. he’s like her best friend and their families adore the couple & each other. got engaged last september and sara broke it off before leaving for gallagher, oof. she deadass milked the opportunity but lbr she wasnt rlly Feeling It so she’s kinda glad for the ‘valid reason’ to appear bc it rlly wasn’t Love for sara so boy bye

Physical appearance: 1.76m, 55kg, long black hair, slim and toned build

Classes: GEN 105, GEN 206, AE 101, AT 101, PE 101

Personality

the sweetest. v charming & sensitive to others & curious about things. enthusiastic too ! loves adventures & is very passionate. queen of empathy. 

she’s not stuck up even tho she loaded. she doesnt rlly talk abt her family having 12B or the fact that she’s an ivy league girl, bc she’s just generally very uwu 

easily stressed and flustered and overwhelmed ! man, gallagher’s gonna shook this goddamn academic dork to her core for the love of god someone pls get the aed ready

rlly fun !!! can be a lil unpredictable bc it b lyk dat for rich girls. loves her independence which she hasn’t maximized bc of her ex fiancé & responsibilities but it’s chill so chill totally chill, no ounce of further longing exists in the crevices of this girl’s heart

she is so not good with confrontation and is so allergic to conflict ok. she will sweep discomfort under a rug and lie on it ‘til it’s flat which makes her a queen of repression & conforming

is she easily overwhelmed & stressed ? yes, but she’ll try not to show it so much. it’s all mostly an internal monologue so don’t underestimate her pls. she’s v smart and competent. can be so competitive ( albeit mostly inwardly ) and a boss ass business bitch like her business momma bc that’s what she’s been training for altho she is still generally a soft bab so ... yeah, if u would be so kind as to Estimate her, that’d be grand

she needs to always be on top of her game. maybe not the best in the class, but definitely pushes herself to be her best, so a lot of late nights studying & won’t settle for bad grades ever. gonna be rough in gallagher bc she is not spy material ok, she’s just a pretty rich geek behind a computer

just imagine her as the nice girl in ur ap classes who’s a lil awkward & just so happens to be super hot & stinking rich

Fun Facts

has a six-month old rescue pup named sooty ! who kinda looks like a sheparnese

has a tendency to ramble if she’s comfy w u enough or mayhaps if it’s too much man 

is v diligent w keeping a journal & does it everyday 

likes to dance ! not super good but she likes it. hits da clubs for dat shit 

is a lil instagram famous bc she’s a gorgeous rich harvard girl & all that jazz. queen of selfies & of looking hot but doesn’t actually get to play around rip ffff 

doesn’t drink much bc she is an extreme lightweight and 2 is her tap out limit

if she’s had more than 2 drinks, she is Very Honest but still very ramble-y 

she is physically active but mostly just runs and does yoga. knows very basic self-defense. is not sporty, definitely not a fighter, may god have mercy on her soul

isnt a virgin but is not sexually experienced lmao lbr she kinda Itching to get out there 

don’t ask me what her accent is because i have no clue it’s all over the place

Established Connections — just bc i think y’all would like to know

kassandra sutton — internet friends ! loves kass to bits. have known each other since sara was 14. when kass was 18, sara took her on a grad trip to montreal and became a lil lowkey into her. doesn’t help that kass drunk kissed her & doesn’t remember lmfao. poor sara told her then-bf & they had a lil fight but they made up bc sara didn’t talk to kass for months. eventually they became friends again & now sara’s in gallagher w no idea that kass is a mf sutton & honestly, my girl is just very shook w everything 

Possible Connections

crushes — she does not know how to flirt. she is ,,,, p pathetic tbh but a real heckin cutie. will be super nice to ur bab ok  

flirtationships — sara and i r gonna continue to keep it real w u chieves, her ex fiancé royce was vanilla and bland as fuck. can u believe she has not been single in a decade ? ? someone give her love & attention & fluster this soft innocent child. get her Experienced but also dont hurt her

enemies/angst !!! —  or maybe do ! maybe hurt her. maybe obliterate her. maybe smash her poor heart to pieces, because tbh i would love that.  so someone pls for the love all things holy and divine, someone hurt her !!!!

fwb — probably just one (1) bc she’s still a romantic ? and she’s probably gonna want something exclusive even if it’s no strings attached and will surely want to ,.,. get to know them a little bit more first ,,, at least ideally , idk , maybe impulse & thirst gets the better of her one of these days who knows lets find out !

friends !!! — sara will love u ok. she may be a lil easily flustered but she’s doesn’t rlly give up on ppl quickly. as i’ve said, queen of empathy. probs feels v sorry for majority of the gallagher & georgetown kids bc, .,.,., this environment just screams highkey Trauma to her and she’s valid bc she’s right

mentors !!! — she hates feeling dumb ok she Always has to be on top of her game, so u can bet ur ass after her first meetings in her classes she goes to ppl going “ hey could u help me out w working out ? boxing ? firing a gun ? literally everything & anything ? ”   

anything & everything — meaning just come @ me & let’s talk about it uwu 

( did i just create georgina’s antithesis ? fuck yes, and i am sooo excited to have a child that’s not always plotting & scheming & being mean like y’all have no idea ;_; nywy, that was long bc shutting up and brevity are things i do not possess. whats up it’s ur og flower garden girl rose here aka bugleweed aka fiancée of many and lover of all, and i am open to anything and everything ! just drop an IM or hit dat like & ill slide in ur dmz w love, plots & sanitized hands x )

[aph-oklahoma-46]

Pirate AU

Somebody stop me with the AUs. Anywho, have 2300+ words of this.

Also, Catalina is Ahyoka’s Spanish name and is relevant only in this AU

Elizabeth/Massachusetts is @crispy-yy ‘s oc. Angel, of course, belongs to @texass-shenanigans , who, as always, was a big help with world-building and encouraging my addiction.

Angel had taken them to a small inn not far from port. He had wanted to get further inland, but he hadn’t been able to gather any supplies before escaping last night. That, combined with the energy required to carry to young children to the nearest town, meant they would have to stop in the port town.

Emily was curled up next to Catalina, both still sleeping soundly. A good thing, since they’d be traveling far if they wanted to get ahead of Antonio. A bad thing, since Toni would have noticed once morning came that they had stolen a boat and snuck off in the night and would heading to the nearest port to hunt them down. That was if they were lucky, of course, and if no one saw them leave or noticed a missing boat during a night watch.

Angel was rarely lucky, so they needed to leave soon.

He leaned back in the chair and rubbed a hand over his face. First, they all needed a change of clothes. They were soaked from last night, and there wasn’t a fireplace to dry their clothes by. They also needed food, at least breakfast and preferably provisions to take with them. Lastly, they needed directions, or a map or something to tell him where they were and how to get where they needed to go.

Catalina stirred and Angel sighed. Better to go now.

“Good morning, Lina. Sleep well?”

Catalina sat up, trying not to wake her sister, and shook her head.

“Yeah, me neither. Bit of a rough night, huh?”

She nodded and rubbed her eyes. “I’m hungry,” she said as Angel handed her a mostly dry nightgown. When she took it from him, she frowned at the cold dampness of the fabric.

Angel nodded and replied, “I know, me too. I’ll see what they have here to eat, and then we can go get new clothes.”

He stood up and looked around the room. There wasn’t much in it, and most of what was there belonged to the inn. Angel had quite literally escaped with nothing but his sisters and the clothes they all wore. Angel happened to have a small coin bag in his pocket, probably there for when he would have been sent out by Antonio to buy some treat or trinket for the girls at the next port. That had been used to rent their current accommodations and would hopefully be sufficient for breakfast. Angel doubted the coins would go much further than that.

Grabbing the bag of coins, he warned Catalina to stay in the room and to not answer the door for anybody other than him. Then, he left.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Elizabeth exited the room she’d just finished cleaning and moved on to the next. She’d much rather be doing anything else, but the inn was the only place she could find both work and relative safety while she waited for something more interesting.

It wasn’t all bad, of course. There were plenty of interesting people who came to the inn in this port city, and that was another part of the reason she took the job. Elizabeth had come here looking for adventure, and the best way to find it, in her mind, was to join a crew on a ship, and the best way to do that was to interact with as many sailors as she could in her circumstances, hence the job at the inn. Unfortunately, few sailors were keen to offer her work on their ships, and those who did seemed to have very narrow views of what a girl could be useful for on a ship. So, she remained at the inn.

Knocking on the door to her next room and hearing nothing, she entered and set her supplies down. As she made her way over to the bed, a little head popped out from underneath.

“Hello!”

Elizabeth jumped, but she bit back the yelp she felt jump up as well.

A little girl, maybe five, crawled out from under the bed. She was covered in dust and dirt now, and her hair was tangled and messy. While Elizabeth recovered from the encounter, another girl, this one about ten, jogged over and stood between her and the smaller child.

“Um… hi?” Elizabeth tried. “I’m here to clean the rooms. I didn’t realize this one was still occupied; I can come back later, if you and your parents would like?” The older girl eyed Elizabeth, who eyed her back.

“Mama and Daddy aren’t here!” the littlest one said. The older girl turned and shushed her, receiving an annoyed look from… her sister, Elizabeth decided.

“Oh? Then where are they? And who is taking care of you two?”

“On the boat!”

“Hush!!” The oldest turned back to Elizabeth. “Our brother is watching us, and he’ll be back soon.”

Elizabeth nodded seriously. “My apologies. Well, if it doesn’t bother you, I’ll just change the sheets and clean up a little before he gets back, so you can have a clean bed to sit on, hm?”

The oldest girl seemed to think about this for a moment, then nodded. She ushered her sister up and over to the chairs and small table by the window to be out of Elizabeth’s way while she cleaned.

Chuckling quietly, Elizabeth removed the sheets and began replacing them. As she lifted the sheet off the bed, a small thud sounded from the mattress. A bracelet had been left on the bed and fell off when the sheets were disturbed. She picked it up and looked it over, turning to call to the children and return it, when she noticed the insignia on the middle charm.

Elizabeth knew a lot about the sea, and the pirates who vied for control of it. Her father was one of the better-known captains who sought to monopolize the waters, and Elizabeth had grown up around him and his kind. The insignia on the charm bracelet was one she recognized from her childhood. Carriedo-Fernandez was perhaps her father’s biggest rival; certainly, one of his more despised competitors. She had seen this insignia on the maps Arthur planned his routes and raids on, being the source of many rants and ravings and inconveniences.

So, what the fuck was a toddler doing with it?

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Angel pushed open the door and sat down the food he’d ordered from down the hall.

“Alright, we’ve got bread, jelly, and moldy cheese, but it’ll have to do. Are you two r—,”

He stopped immediately when he saw the extra occupant sitting on the bed, at first chatting with Emily and Catalina, and now looking at him expectantly. He wasn’t particularly concerned about this; he had seen her last night and realized the girl was an employee of the inn. Still, he was a little paranoid since Antonio’s ship, or one of his vessels, had almost certainly docked somewhere by now and began spreading the news of their escape. Toni was a rich man, and he was known to pay handsomely in order to get what he wanted, be it goods, better equipment, or in this case, runaways. Angel didn’t want to take chances with strangers.

“Who are you?” he asked guardedly.

The woman on the bed looked him up and down and was apparently unimpressed. “Elizabeth Kirkland,” she stated matter-of-factly, and Angel swallowed.

The way she said the name, and the way she looked at him… Angel knew she knew more about him than he would like. How, he didn’t know, but that wasn’t the problem here.

“Nice to meet you. I’d invite you to eat with us, but I didn’t get enough for four people, so…”

“That’s alright, I already had breakfast. However, that’s not going to be enough for all three of you, considering the situation you’re in.” She motioned for Angel to sit on the bed with her. “Why don’t you let the kiddos eat and we can talk for a bit.”

He thought about saying no; the last thing he needed was a Kirkland on his ass. Arthur Kirkland was most certainly not a fan of Toni, and Angel wouldn’t put it past the man try and capture him or the girls just to irritate his rival.

Still, if this Elizabeth was working for Kirkland, then there would be other’s waiting nearby in case she needed help. The best bet would be to talk with her and hope he was somehow mistaken about her motives and purpose.

Angel put the food over on the table for the girls to eat, helping Emily spread jelly on her bread before motioning Elizabeth to follow him outside the room. To his surprise, she did.

“If you wanna talk, fine, but let’s talk somewhere private.”

Elizabeth just looked at him for a moment, then nodded. “My room is far from any occupied guest rooms. We can talk there.” Angel followed her, making sure she entered first and watching carefully for anything that seemed like a signal for a surprise attack or trap.

When he was somewhat satisfied that no one would attack him, he turned to Elizabeth and scowled.

“What do you know about us and what to you want?”

“Right to the point, I see. I like it.” She grinned. “Look, all I know is that you and those girls are connected to the bloody Spaniard somehow, though I’m willing to bet that those two are the daughters he’s rumored to have. Of course, that raised some questions of why they are with you and not their father, doesn’t it?” She fixed Angel with a look, and he suddenly became just as uncomfortable as he was on first entry to the room.

“You seem scared. The older girl—I believe her name is Catalina—seems… protective of the littler one, and also scared. But the baby, Emily, she seems just to be happy about this new adventure she thinks she’s on, if a little put out that mommy and daddy aren’t with her. They call you ‘brother.’ This really is a confusing situation you’re in. A person wouldn’t know what to think of it all, to be sure.”

Angel struggled to push down the dread that the accuracy of her observations so far had pulled to the surface. Did she know they were running from Toni?

“What do you think of it?” he asked, glad that his voice remained steady.

Elizabeth hummed for a moment. She looked at him thoughtfully before answering.

“I think you’re running from him. The bloody Spaniard, I mean. I assume that the girls really are your sisters, because Catalina seems smart and strong and I don’t think she would be convinced to call a stranger ‘brother’ or let herself and her sister be kidnapped and just be ok with that. Because of this, I understand why you don’t seem to trust me, what with me being a Kirkland and all, and you’re probably afraid that I’m after you for the reward that is most certainly going to be on your head, if it isn’t already. Tell me, how much of that was right?”

Angel didn’t answer right away. He needed to think.

This woman knew he had taken the girls and ran, and apparently, she thought that the girls were the rumored children of Toni.

Before Angel confirmed or denied anything, he needed to know if Elizabeth was working for Arthur Kirkland. The last thing he needed was for the bushy-browed bastard to know where the supposed children of his greatest rival were, especially after what Toni found out yesterday.

Especially after what he did yesterday.

Fighting back the bile that rose in his throat at the memory of what he hoped would be his last day on any of Antonio’s ships, Angel stood up a little taller.

“Are you going to run back to Big Brows if I tell you this?”

Elizabeth scoffed. “No, of course not. Look, I’m Arthur Kirkland’s daughter. If I was doing anything on his behalf, do you think I would be working at some rundown inn in a tiny port city? No!”

Seeing Angel’s eye widen at the mention of her relation to Arthur, Elizabeth reconsidered her approach.

“Look. I know what it’s like to have a man like that as a parent. I don’t know what is going on with you and Carriedo and those girls, but I can only imagine that he is probably just as bad as a father. I want to help you, and you clearly need it.”

“… Ok.” Angel hated how tired he sounded. But then again, he hated his whole situation at the moment. It’s not like he wanted to agree to this, but he really did need help. He knew so little about cities beyond the ports, and he couldn’t exactly sail on his own. More importantly, he would need help to take care of Catalina and Emily, especially since they would soon be running from what will be the full force of Antonio’s pirating empire.

“What do you need?” Elizabeth was a little shocked at the change in Angel. She wasn’t sure what had happened to him or why he had taken his sisters and ran, but whatever it was, it had clearly taken a toll.

Angel thought about her question. He needed a place to hide, a safe place where his sisters could have a place to sleep and where they could stay without worrying about someone coming after them. And they needed a way to get there.

“I need to get to Francis Bonnefoy. And I need to get there soon. He can protect us and help me find our father.”

Elizabeth raised an eyebrow at that last bit but decided to save that for later.

“I know just the man. How’s your Dutch?”

[northisnotup]

I wish you would write a fix where a Marvel team and OMGCP collide at a formal event!

Thought you you stump me, eh?

well, I DID IT - mostly, I mean, the formal event was a stretch but, I got it mostly!

See, Sam’s either has a littlest sister going to college, or a niece who is of age going to college or both! Let’s go with both. Sarah and Samantha (named after her uncle) Wilson. Just because. She picks Samwell and Sam offers to accompany her on a campus tour, which naturally means that every fucking one tags along for good measure.

T'Challa accompanies Shuri, because she’s always been privately tutored but wants the full experience, Tony chaperones Peter (who is going to MIT but like, why not see what else Boston has to offer?)

Steve is interested in upgrading/taking some art courses, which basically just here because Bucky needs some more positive human interaction and college might be a good place for it?

Bruce wants to meet with one of them chem. professors - they had some wacky idea’s back in the mid-90s that he may just be able to teak now. No one can see Natasha, which is definitely means she is blending in/lurking somewhere, and Laura has given Clint STRICT instructions on what to look for if they’re going to start planning for the kids’ education’s now.

So they get the nickel and dime tour, visiting to dorms, the caf, the gym, and they’re just about to head to the Faber to talk about the various sports teams that Samwell has to offer, when…Shuri get’s the scent of the sweetest, most delectable dessert.

“Sam, what is that?” She pointed to a table set up on the quad that looks like a split between a child’s lemonade stand and an farmers market booth.

“Looks like a bake sale?”

Their student-council tour guide rolled her eyes so hard it must’ve hurt. “That,” she spat, “is the Samwell men’s hockey team. Their captain is…really into baking.” (it may not hurt to note that this particular tour guide is named Natasha, and she is a drama major. Since Ford decided to manage the team, the hockey players have become very friendly…too friendly.)

“Sure, I’m starved, anyone else? All I got on me is like, hundreds, so I may as well buy, anyone?” Tony threw over his shoulder, already making a beeline to the booth, which was manned by an eclectic sort of group.

Not turning away from the pie he was currently cutting - a delicately latticed peach-looking pie, the mustachioed gentleman started a business-man slick sales pitch. “Why hello there folks, you look like fine, discerning individuals who would like nothing more than to support the Samwell Men’s Hockey team today! Available for purchase we have this b-e-a-utiful apricot pecan pie using only the freshest apricot’s our captain Eric Bittle’s mother shipped up from the south! Piece for $2.99 or buy the whole thing for $10!”

He was shirtless.

“Knight!” Natasha hissed, looking like she was about to start apologizing for everything from the shirtless pie-selling knight to her mother birthing her.

“Chill, Natty.” Another man winked at her, hazel eyes going wide for just a moment as he took in their party before he rolled his shoulders. “I hope everyone brought their appetite cause the team’s Haus needs a new hot water heater.”

Peter talked through a mouth filled with a sample, “So you’re running this bake sale to fix your frat house?”

“Not a house, a Haus.” The Chill-man grinned. “‘Sup, Derek Nurse, literature major and second line d-man. The Haus,” he put weird emphasis on the word, pronouncing it in a weird, almost German accent, “is like, the center of team cohesion, we got to the Frozen Four three years in a row by being the tightest knit team out there, man.”

“D-man?” Shuri paused in her coveting of the avocado-key-lime pie to swing her eyes up. “Is that like…” she grinned flirtily.

T'Challa tensed behind her, turning disapproving eyes on Derek. Who, to his credit, froze for only a moment before relaxing back into his 'chill.’

He gave her a distinctly non-flirty smile back while plating her selection. (The plates where actual ceramic plates and there were wash bins manned by boys off to the side.) “Nah, it means I’m responsible for making defensive plays, watching my goalie, the net and the other players.”

Tony threw down $500 and everyone in the vicinity - stopped. “Love sports, love charity, say, this is a tax write off, right?”

Mustache-Knight grinned, lifting his fist for a bump while the red-head beside him flushed. “Mr-Mr. Stark, you don’t have to, we can’t accept, we don’t need…”

The word charity hung like a guillotine.

“William! Poindexter! I know you did not just insult a paying customer in front of my pies.”

And that is how the Avenger’s were properly introduced to Eric R. Bittle and the Samwell Men’s Hockey Team

for future reference their pie flavours of choice: Shuri - avaocado key limeT'Challa - lemon meringueSam, Samantha and Natasha - maple crusted appleClint - strawberry rhubarb Bucky and Tony - apricot pecanPeter - chocolate pecanSarah - blueberryBruce - coconut cream

[dandelionprocrastinates]

👌 Satisfaction Sundays 👌

Moderated by Jericho Manuel

It’s the end of the week, and we are on our way to start a new one. But before we officially conclude, we should take a look back, reflect, and have a breather. You are one strong individual for surviving and making it past seven very long days. Congratulations! You must be so satisfied.

Satisfaction is the quality or state of being content - functioning as a source or means for enjoyment (Merriam-Webster, n.d.). From the Self Determination Theory developed by Deci and Ryan and other previous psychological studies, the subjective well-being of an individual, which is predicted by his or her cognitive evaluation of life as a satisfying experience and the frequency of his or her positive emotions is theorized to be mediated from external factors such as autonomy, competence, and relatedness (Orkibi and Ronen, 2017). 

With individuals inhibiting a sense of emotional and physical accomplishment in even the littlest things in life, a feeling of emotional and psychological fulfillment in the context that the week bore positive and productive outcomes is achieved in the process.

To make things worthwhile, it is important to treasure every single moment of accomplishment you have by yourself or with others. To make things easier, a set of activities have been prepared to help you in the reflection process. So sit back, relax, and have fun - by yourself or with others; satisfy yourself!

August 2 - Open Forum: Sharing is Caring

In order to have a comprehensive understanding of the emotional well-being of ourselves and our peers, an open forum session will be held. Everyone will enter a Zoom session, open their cameras and their microphones, and engage in an interactive activity where the moderator will ask questions that would initiate the sharing process of experiences and learnings between the group - such as ‘For you, what was the best point of the week?’ or ‘Have you learned a lot in the past seven days?’, which would aim to induce positive verbal exchanges and responses. 

August 9 - Breathe In, Breathe Out

Deep breathing is one of the best ways to lower stress in the body. It sends a message to your brain to calm down and relax. Breathing exercises are a good way to relax, reduce tension, and relieve stress (Australian & New Zealand Mental Health Association, 2019). To strengthen our state of mental stability in the hopes of obliterating further discrepancies in our thought processes, the participants will engage in deep breathing exercises with the guidance of a moderator. After the execution of approximately five repetitions, the participants will be asked to close their eyes, take a deep inhale, and have some time to digest all of the occurrences of the week.

August 16 - Board Game Bonanza

Board games are supportive of one’s mental health and are a great method of eliminating anxiety and depression. Board games help with cognitive and social development, reduce isolation, help family cohesion, reduce stress, and keep your brain younger for longer (Mounsher, 2017). With the introduction of virtual board games such as Boggle Bash, Chess, Scrabble, and others, the participants are able to manage their levels of stress and maintain the stability of their mental health.

August 23 - The Circle of Contemplation

The act of thinking about an experience and expressing emotions has a level of importance in an individual’s mental health. Writing helps people organize thoughts and provide definition to experiences, especially significant or even traumatic ones. The act of writing helps regulate emotions better and fosters an intellectual process with storytelling which puts an end to a non-stop procedure of mental cycling (Harvard, 2011).  

August 30 - R&R

Rest and recovery (R&R) are critical components of any individual’s health. Most easily defined as a combination of sleep and time spent not training, rest is the easiest to understand and implement. How you sleep and spend this time is very critical. Recovery, however, refers to techniques and actions taken to maximize your body’s repair. 

Our goal for this activity is to prioritize life and maximize performance without personal sacrifice. Kick back, relax, and enjoy an evening out with friends. Allow yourself to unwind since a new busy week is coming up and you need all the energy you have to get through the week. 

You can read my friends’ reaction to each activity under the cut!

Reaction to the Open Forum: “As a person who shares a lot and never stops talking, I had a great time with the Open Forum. I managed to relieve some of my frustrations through answering the moderator’s questions. I’d rate it an 11/10.”

Reaction to Breathe In, Breathe Out: “As someone who’s mind is constantly running and almost at a brink of breaking down (jk), this activity gave me a moment of inner peace that I didn’t know that I needed. I managed to focus on myself and just myself.”

Reaction to Board Game Bonanza: “I’m a sucker for board games so I had a great time with my friends playing different kinds of board games. I also loved crushing my opponents spending time with friends and just goofing off. 

Reaction to The Circle of Contemplation: “Since we’re always pressured to write academically, this activity was a breath of fresh air since we were able to write what we wanted without any expectations.”

Reaction to R&R: “It seems appropriate that the last activity of Satisfaction Sunday would be something lowkey that just involves us hanging out with friends and talking. I had a really great time. There was no stress, no deadlines, and no frustrations. It was just me, my friends, and a good time that helped me unwind for the new hectic week that was coming.” 

References: 

Australian and New Zealand Mental Health Association. (2019, October 16). How deep breath can be helpful for mental health. https://anzmh.asn.au/mental-health/deep-breath-helpful-mental-health/

Harvard Health Publishing. (2011, July). Expressive writing for mental health.  https://www.health.harvard.edu/newsletter_article/expressive-writing-for-mental-health

Merriam-Webster. (n.d.). Satisfaction. In Merriam-Webster.com dictionary.  Retrieved September 15, 2020, from https://www.merriam-webster.com/dictionary/satisfaction

Mounsher, C. (2017, November 9). 5 ways board games are good for your  mental health. The Counsellors Cafe Magazine. https://www.thecounsellorscafe.co.uk/single-post/2017/11/07/5-Ways-Board-Games-Are-Good-For-Your-Mental-Health

Orkibi, H., & Ronen, T. (2017). Basic psychological needs satisfaction mediates the association between self-control skills and subjective well-being. Educational Psychology, 17(1), 1-2. https://doi.org/10.3389/fpsyg.2017.00936

[jtvizion]

The Night America Fell

By: J. R. Torres

The night America fell will forever be seared into the depths of my mind. I was awoken in the dead of night by the harrowing sound of lawlessness. Sirens blared, shots rang, and thousands of distressed voices echoed into the night. It was the sound of America dying.

As I peered out the window of my 3rd story apartment, I witnessed pure chaos in the streets. Flashes, smoke, and people running from their homes. There were militarized police officers firing rounds at masked men who were also heavily armed. I even witnessed a police officer executed by a masked man in cold blood. That was when I realized that if I didn’t hide, I would probably meet the same fate as the slain officer. Without thinking I grabbed what I could and immediately made my way into my attic and once there, I placed my loaded trunk on the attics latching door, and stayed up the whole night listening to the chaos echo into the cold winter night.

It’s been 44 days since America fell. The only reason I know it’s been 44 days is because there are 44 carvings in the floorboard of this dank, bone-chilling attic which has since become home. To this day, I still can’t believe how quickly it all came crashing down.

Everyday I wake up hoping this new reality is just a dream, and everyday I wake up realizing that this living nightmare is reality. ​Everyday I wonder if it will be my last...

As I sit here corroding away in desolation, I will try to find solace by writing out my thoughts and feelings in hopes that maybe someday, someone will read my words and come to some sort of understanding as to how America, the greatest most powerful country in the history of the world, became a war-torn nation.

I remember learning about Anne Frank when I was in Middle School. I remember always wondering how she met the fate she did. How could the people of the world allow innocent people to be rounded up and slaughtered? I, like many others, always demonized Hitler and the Nazi’s because they were the “bad guys”. They were the ones who set the bar for evil in the 20th century, and never had it ever crossed our minds that we would top the heinous evil that was the Holocaust. That was perhaps our biggest mistake...

...

The months and weeks leading up to the fall were unthinkable. It felt like a roller coaster ride to hell. Everyday there was some new hate crime being committed, each more vile than the last. Ghetto’s were starting to look like war zones between militarized police forces and black men. There was also a sharp rise in anti-semitism caused by the resurgence of white supremacy. It had become OK to hate, and it was our newly elected leader who made it OK. Protests against his authoritarian rule turned into riots and then riots turned into chaos. It was as though the seams that kept this chosen land together were starting to stretch and snap caused by this growing suppressed anger that had been festering deep from within since the founding of America in 1776.

The major media outlets were constantly being denigrated by the administration. An administration whose obvious purpose in retrospect, was to promote the welfare of the economic elite. Truth was becoming harder and harder to discern. False stories being propagated on social media networks became more and more common. I truly believe that this brief era of misinformation was one of the cruxes that brought us to where we are now. Another crux was our worship of the almighty dollar. It was the dollars in our pockets that afforded us happiness, the less we had the less happy we were or so it seemed. It wasn’t until the hyperinflation set in that we all began to lose faith in the dollar. We all lost faith in those green pieces of paper that we worked our lives away to acquire. During that loss of faith was when our nation hit terminal velocity.

...

After the fall, I couldn’t sleep for what felt like weeks. If you could only imagine what it’s like to have your mind on a constant state of heightened alert. If you could only understand the damage too much adrenaline will do to you. It permanently alters you, creating some sort of PTSD, where just the littlest things will set you into this pure flight or fight, kill mode. You don’t feel human. And imagine something as simple as the creak in a floorboard being able to put you in that mind set. The simple sounds of a settling house. Howling wind. A roach as it scatters around in darkness. I know I am clinically insane by now, but it’s not like that really matters much anymore.

I remember the first time I was able to somewhat comfortably fall asleep, and it was during the day. A surprisingly warm and bright morning for being in January. There hadn’t been any gun shot’s fired for what felt almost like a full 48 hours. The last thing I remember seeing as I drifted off was the crystal blue sky through a small hole in the attics conjoined ceiling. It was the greatest feeling in the world as a ray from the sun slowly started to creep in, warming my face. That day I dreamed the most vivid dream I’ve ever had in my life.

This dream featured full sensation, and vibrant color and detail. I could clearly see the sweat as it dripped from Alexis’s breast as she rode me like a wild southern cow-girl. The way her breast dangled around as she worked her thick warm squishy hips around and in that motion she knew would extract my seed from deep from within. The ripe aroma of just me and her as we made the kind of love that babies are born from. In that pinnacle moment, I was awoken by the loud deafening boom caused by a nearby explosive that rattled my soul. I was in a state of petrification for days.

...

Starvation is the most peculiar motivation. You’d be surprised at how quickly your fears and priorities change once your stomach has begun to eat itself. I had only heard a few gunshots ring out in the distance throughout the day. It was my plan that once night fell I would venture out of this dreary attic and go down to collect what remained in my apartment. Unfortunately I had not gone shopping before the fall. With the starvation settling in I remembered I should have some stale bread in the pantry and maybe an old box of pasta noodles. As I climbed down, my apartment felt desolate, and it no longer felt like home. When I peered out the window, I was mortified by the the landscape. The once affluent neighborhood full of homes with exotic architecture had been degraded and ruined to look like an abandoned ghost town.

Homes had been hollowed out, some burned. Debris and abandoned cars littered the street. I also no longer could see the steeple of the Lutheran Church that used to sit in the sky only a couple blocks away. This mere glimpse from my window painted a very grim picture of what had become of the world and I could not believe my eyes. I could not believe that Norfolk Virginia, now looked similar to how Syria looked during the height of their recent Civil War.

As I made my way to the kitchen to scavenge what was left, I came to the conclusion that I would soon have to leave the safety of my apartment if I was going to survive. But where would I go? Who could I call? Cell phone and internet service had not worked since the fall. It looked like a war zone outside, and most likely there were still hostile insurgents residing in some of the houses in the neighborhood. The thought of not having anywhere to go was paralyzing. As I made my way up the attic with a can of black beans, a box of cereal dust some mayo and 3 slices of stale bread, I started to hear voices at the back door. Luckily I had just shut the attic door when they kicked in my back door and started sacking my apartment. I nearly passed out from the fear and anxiety as they moved about my place throwing around my belongings. My stomach churned with knots as I heard the hostile voices below. One of the guys swore he saw something... If they had surveillance over my apartment complex so heavy that that they could see me moving about at night, I knew my chances of successfully making any kind of escape were close to none.

13 nights later, driven by a psychosis derived from starvation and acute thirst, I made my way out of my apartment to find any kind of nourishment. I stealthily creeped down the back fire escape checking each busted-in apartment unit for anything edible. You’d be surprised at how good dog food tastes... I’m sure if you had served the meaty paste on some fancy crackers with a garnish at a party, most probably wouldn't even know the difference. My ultimate low point was when I discovered the ultimate source for water. Toilets. With no more running water, toilet reservoirs became a source of life.

A couple days later I attempted to make a run for it, even though I didn’t know where “it” was. Maybe I could make it to my parents house, they only lived 30 minutes away by car, which would only take a few hours by foot. It was so nice to feel the cool wind of the night brush against my face as a trekked through my decimated neighborhood. There was an eerie stillness and a quietness that night. Every little sound effect was amplified with high fidelity. I made it

about 6 miles before I ran into the most horrifying thing I had ever seen. The on-ramp to 264 east from Norfolk to Virginia Beach had been blocked off and partially destroyed. In front of the blockade were several beams interconnected with razor blade barbed wire, and strung up on the beams were bodies, some women, some men, and some children... Ever since that day I’ve never tried leaving again. I have accepted the fact that I will probably die in this dusty attic in Norfolk. It’s only a matter of time now...

...

Crispy fried chicken with stuffed shells, garlic bread, lumpia and a side of peas and jasmine rice with a scoop of fresh guacamole on top and a large cold glass of chocolate milk is what my body yearns for. My hallucinations have gotten so vivid that I can almost taste the thought of real food. Thank god for this newly acquired vivid imagination or else eating roaches would be unbearable. Yes I’ve fallen this low... But I do what I have to do. Contrary to popular belief, roaches actually don’t taste that bad if you eat them properly. If you think you can just chomp into them then you’re going to be greatly disappointed when remnants of the shell get stuck between your teeth like popcorn kernel skin. There’s a proper process, kind of like eating crawfish, except with roaches, you bite the heads off and suck on the bodies.

I’ve been really tired lately. So tired that I slip in and out of consciousness throughout the day. The sleep is very deep and very dark and dreams are few and far between. This may be due to the mental fatigue from the vivid daydreams I’ve been having. While awake, certain moments keep replaying through my mind like an old VHS tape stuck on repeat. One is of my first memory, of me yelling at a news channel 3 anchor on television, angered over the fact she was ignoring me. I remember my first real kiss, and how happy I was, and how for a week straight I would just randomly smile from thinking about it. I also remember the pain from when she left me to be with someone else. I remember our wonderful family reunions in Miami Florida. My cousins and I laughing into the tonight, almost getting kicked out of hotels, and eating authentic puerto rican food til our bellies were the fullest of full. Arroz con gandules and slow roasted pernil with the salty savory skin that tasted like crispy heaven. Usually my mouth would water when thinking these thoughts but now the inside of my mouth is as dry as a desert and my throat feels like sandpaper.

I was skinny before the fall, now my body is an emaciated pile of skin and bones. My knees are knobby and shake when I try to stand. I can barely pull myself up off the floor anymore, but it’s fine. I know that I will probably never leave this attic again. The only thing left for a while was hope, but that hope has eroded away like my mind, body and soul. I’m tired. All of my memories are starting to fade except for one that I can’t stop thinking about. The memory is of me and my mom shopping at the commissary and we stop to get sherbert ice cream. Orange with pink swirls was always my favorite.