#he legit just goes. so? and moves ten feet to the left to storm the aery with utterly no reaction whatsoever

[tovaicas]

speaking of estinien I’m cautiously excited to see what they do with him bc I really wasn’t suuper impressed with how he was handled in HW

[filmfanatic82]

AO3 Link (HERE)

Chapter 15: ...For Loving You and Hating Myself

“Shut up.”

“What?”

“I said shut up, Taylor.”

“But that’s a yes… Right?”

“Yes, you idiot. It's a yes. What else would it be?”

“YES!”

The familiar sounds of Zack’s whoops of excitement echo throughout the confines of Trini’s mind as she drifts in and out of consciousness.

Finally…

He finally popped the question.

Thank fuckin’ god.

Out of everyone, Zack and Tommi deserve some happiness.

“You cool if I go tell the guys?”

“You haven’t told them already?”

“Sorta.”

“Sorta?”

Trini picks up on Tommi’s trademark annoyed but secretly amused sigh and then--

“Go tell everyone.”

“Sweet… I love you. Like a lot… A whole lot… More than a lot… Like--”

“I get it. I love you too.”

Trini can feel her lips curl into a smile as she moves closer and closer to being fully awake.

Good for them.

Wonder if Tommi’s gonna want a big…

Wait.

Fuck.

Tommi.

If she can hear Tommi’s voice then that means…

Trini’s eyes pop wide open. “Tommi??”

“Hey, Small Fry,” Tommi replies without missing a beat. There’s an audible rustle of bed sheets followed by a clear thud of bare feet on metal. Trini attempts to push herself up in the small medical bay bed but is hit with a harsh tsunami of pain. It radiates across her body, lighting every last nerve she has on fire.

“Ugh… Fuck,” Trini groans as she falls back into the pillow.

“Hurting?” Tommi emerges into Trini’s line of sight and immediately goes about re-adjusting the pillows underneath Trini’s head.

“Yeah.” Trini lets out a heavy sigh and relinquishes all control to Tommi as she helps prop Trini up in the bed. “Just a little sore. That’s all. How about you? Are you okay?”

“Still alive and kicking,” Tommi replies with a bit of a smirk. She takes a seat on the edge of Trini’s bed and then reaches out and lovingly ruffles Trini’s hair. “You on the other hand… Think you can quit it with this almost dying shit? Cause it’s really getting old…”

“Hey! You were the one that stopped breathing, not me.” Trini playfully swats Tommi’s hand away and re-fixes her hair.

“Hart’s handiwork?”

“Yeah… But stop changing the subject. You sure you’re okay? You… You were--”

“T,” Tommi stops Trini. She places her hand down upon Trini’s and gives it a reassuring squeeze. “I’m okay. Maybe not as okay as I would be if that bastard hadn’t stolen my coin, but nonetheless I’m here. And in one piece… Which is better off than the rest of us. Have you seen Zack? He looks like freakin’ Quasimodo. I’m praying none of that is permanent cause otherwise our wedding photos are going to need some major re-touching.”

Tommi catches herself just as the words leave her mouth and suddenly looks up at Trini in sudden shock. “I’m getting married.”

“Yeah you are,” Trini laughs in response.

“You heard him?”

“No… Not really… Only caught the tail end of it.”

“I can’t believe it,” Tommi says. She runs her hands through her wild mane of curls and then glances down at the simple yet elegant diamond ring on her finger. “I always just figured I would have to man up for him one of these days and just do it, but… But he really did it.”

“Of course he did. He loves you.”

“I love him too.” Tommi responds with a rare sense of vulnerability to her voice. “Just like Kim loves you.”

A momentary silence falls between Trini and Tommi as Trini starts to absentmindedly fidget with the tattered edges of the medical bay blanket. She can feel Tommi’s eyes upon her. Just looking on and patiently waiting for a response. As she always does whenever she drops an emotionally charged statement into their conversations.

Trini lets out a sigh and then--

“She told me everything…”

“And?”

“And… I… I just caved.”

Tommi lets a chuckle slip out at this statement. “Well, that part’s obvious.”

“It is?”

“Seriously? T, you guys up and disappear for a few hours and then when you pop back up you’re rocking a Kimberly Hart special and wreak of sex.”

“Do not,” Trini fires back causing Tommi to shoot her one of her notorious deadpan stares. “Fine… Okay… We had sex.”

“Thank you. So… How was it? Spare me the details. Just on a scale from one to ten. What was it?”

“Which time?” Trini sighs. She buries her head a bit more into the pillow, avoiding eye contact with Tommi.

“Touche.”

“It was a solid 20. Every time. Except for that last one. But only cause we were interrupted by Jason. He teleported into the bar right as Kim was about to--”

“Wait… Hold up… Did you say bar? As in my bar?!”

Trini lifts her head out of the pillow and sinks her teeth down into her bottom lip. She gives Tommi a tiny nod in response. “Sorry?”

“Jesus, T!” Tommi grabs hold of the pillow from behind Trini’s head and playfully smacks her with it.

“Ow… Hey! It’s not like I planned it. It just sorta happened.”

“You sorta had sex on my bar?!”

“Five times,” Trini sheepishly responds and instantly braces as Tommi swats her once again with the pillow.

“Shit. I’m gonna have to burn that bar now, aren’t I?” Tommi asks shoving the pillow back at Trini.

“No. But maybe just give it an extra scrub down or two… with tons of bleach?”

“Oh hells no,” Tommi responds with an indignant snort. “That’s all on Zack. He can have the honor of sanitizing yours and Hart’s makeshift sex den.

Trini laughs at these words and Tommi can’t help but join in.

“I’m happy for you, T. I really am. You and Hart deserve each other. Always have. Now we just need to figure out a way outta this nightmare and convince her to ditch that douche of a boyfriend and--”

“What did you say?”

“Huh?” Tommi stops laughing. “Douche of a boyfriend?”

“No. Before that?” Trini asks as the look of confusion deeps upon her face. She pushes a few loose strays of her hair out of her eyes and hones in on Tommi. “What did you say?”

“Nightmare?”

Nightmare…

Is that is? No. Scratch that. There’s no such thing as a joint nightmare.

Right?

Not between six people.

Six plus Max.

Oh god…

Max.

“T?” Tommi questions with more than a hint of concern. “What’s going on?”

“You know about the Epithymía stone, right?”

Tommi nods. “The rock that’s causing this shithow. Yeah. Billy gave us the heads up about it right before the attack. What about it?”

“It was in the house.”

“What?” Tommi blurts out unable to hide her reaction. “How did you know where--”

“Cause I found it. On Thanksgiving night. Before I came to the bar. I was in the woods by the quarry that night and spotted it buried within a tree trunk. I thought it looked odd so I pocketed it and was planning on shows you guys but… But I got sidetracked and…” Trini trails off as the dots suddenly connect all at once.

It’s not a nightmare.

No. It’s a wish.

The night at the bar. When the girl who looked like Kimberly was going down on her in the back alley.

She made a wish.

And the stone…

The stone was in her pocket.

She made a wish and activated the stone.

“Fuck.” Trini stares at Tommi as her stomach begins to violently churn with a sickening guilt. “I’m the one to blame for all of this. I made a wish.”

//////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////

C’mon, Gomez.

Must run faster.

Screw the pain.

Only 50 yards left.

“Hold up!”

But Trini doesn’t even attempt to slow down let alone respond to Tommi’s shouts. There’s just no time. She needs to get to the morphing grid and inform the others.

Trini flies down the ship’s corridor, bare feet pounding hard against the cool metallic floor as her anxiety spirals out of control.

“Fuck, T. Slow down!”

“No,” Trini yells back with labored breath.

Fuck.

She’s really freakin’ fucked things up.

This is all her fault.

The storm.

The disappearances of Mamaji… And Bapu… Even Richard.

And Max…

Fuck.

She skids around the corner and bursts forth into the morphing grid, causing everyone’s heads to whip around in unison at the sudden interruption.

“T?” Kim is the first to speak up, eyes locking straight away in on Trini. A look of relief mixed with confusion sweeps across her face.

“Crazy girl!” Zack says with a warm smile. “You’re up!”

“Fucking hell, Small Fry. Didn’t you hear me shouting at you?” Tommi exclaims as she enters the morphing grid, clutching her side in slight pain.

“Trini, what’s--”

“I know what triggered it. The stone.” Trini blurts out, cutting Jason off mid-sentence. “It’s a wish. I made a wish the night I found it and the very next morning is when the storm started.”

“A what?” Kim asks.

“Like a legit wish?” Zack stares at Trini with knit brows. “Cause I wish for stuff all the time and it never comes true.”

“You’re missing the point,” Tommi responds with a sigh. “It’s the combo of the wish and that stone.”

“A wish. Why didn’t I think of that before. It all makes so much more sense now.” Billy heads over to one of the consoles and starts rapidly typing away on the main touch screen. “Alpha 5, can you go get me volume 14 of the Ranger Chronicles? It’s on my workbench.”

“Sure, Master Billy,” Alpha 5 says and then scurries out of the morphing grid.

“What makes sense?” Jason follow up, trying to grab hold of Billy’s attention.

“The entity associated with the Epithymía stone. It’s a Jinn. That’s why it was activated with a wish,” Billy rambles on as he continues to tap away at the screen.

“Gin? As in Gin and Tonic?” Zack questions.

“No. It’s not an alcoholic beverage. It’s a spirit. A Jinn is one of the three predominate spirits that can be found within ancient Islam. You have angels which are innately good and adversely demons that are innately evil and then Jinns. They are agnostic and could go either way depending on what they are called to do. Their actions are driven by the desires of mortals.”

“Like a wish…” Trini says under her breath.

“Yes. Exactly. A wish. It’s--”

“Wait a minute… Are you talking about a Genie?” Tommi interrupts with a tone of sheer disbelief to her voice.

“Technically the term Genie is an anglicized version of Jinn, but yes, you could roughly consider it to be within the same realms more or less.”

“We should just call you Aladdin, Crazy Girl,” Zack chimes in.

“No,” Trini deadpans.  

“And that would make Kimmie here Princess Jasmine!”

“Babe…” Tommi warns sensing the ever growing tension in the room.

“Not funny,” Trini responds through gritted teeth.

“Okay, so if this thing were dealing with is indeed a Jinn, then why all the attacks?” Jason unconsciously rubs the back of his neck. “And why would it go after our power coins?”

“Well, I think it might be…” Billy comes to an abrupt stop in a sudden epiphany. “Zordon?”

“Yes?” Zordon’s head materializes on the wall before them and surveys the room with an unsettling stare. There’s a underlying tiredness to his features that Trini has yet to notice until this very moment. As if the never ending cycle of unknown threats and danger is finally catching up to him.

“You mentioned that the last time the Epithymía stone was activated, the entity targeted the Green Ranger.”

“If my recollection serves me correct, yes it did,” Zordon responds.

“And it’s safe to say that out of all of our power coins, the green one is the most corruptible?”

“Hey!” Tommi pipes up. “We’ve been over this before. I’m not--”

“No. No. That’s not what… It’s not about you… It’s the nature of the coin itself. The Jinn specifically went after the green coin because of the accessibility factor. The makeup of the green coin is different than the rest of ours and for some unbeknownst reason that makes it hackable by other entities. Entities that aren’t us. And by tapping into it, it has indirect access to--”

“The rest of us. The Ranger bond. That’s why we’re so weak, isn’t it? It’s tapping into the rest of us through the bond and draining us,” Jason finishes Billy’s thought, piecing the puzzle together.

Billy’s face lights up in a smile and can’t help but clap his hands in utter excitement at the fact that someone else is finally seeing what he does. “Exactly! It’s feeding off of our power. The more it drains, the stronger it gets.”

“And then…”

“Destroy the world,” Zack says in a mock announcers voices that causes Tommi to instantly slap him upside the head and shake her head in sheer disbelief.

“What?” Zack shrugs his shoulders. ”It’s the truth.”

“Great. So what you’re saying is that we’re just a bunch of human batteries for a deranged genie who wants to strip us of our power?” Tommi asks as she runs her hands through her hair and lets out a frustrated sigh. “How the hell are we supposed to fight that?”

A sobering silence settles upon the group as they each let the reality of those words sink in.

They can’t fight it.

That’s the answer.

If it were anything else Zordon would’ve said it be now.

That’s why he’s so silent.

They’re screwed and it’s all her fault.

If only she hadn’t taken that stone…

If only she…

“Trini?” Kim asks finally breaking the silence. “What did you wish for?”

And Trini can’t bring herself to look Kim in the eyes. Instead she lets out a shaky breath of air, trying her best to hold back the fresh set of tears forming in her eyes. “I wished for you to suffer like I have.”

The silence is all but suffocating as no one dares to even breathe let alone utter a word in response.

Please say something…

Please…

For the love of god…

Anything…

Fuck.

Fuck.

Fuck.

I’m…

I’m…

“I’m sorry,” Trini says in nothing more than a whisper and then without even once glancing up at the rest of the group, proceeds to walk herself out of the morphing grid.

//////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////

Trini sits on the bottom bunk bed in her and Kim’s old crash room in the ship, head buried deep within her hands. She’s not quite sure of just how long she's been sitting there. Ten minutes. Maybe twenty.

It doesn't matter anymore.

None of it does.

All that really matter is that she's fucked up… Yet again.

At least this time though she wasn't fully aware of it.

Silver lining, right?

But how the hell is she going to fix this?

Think, Gomez, think.

There has to be a way.

No. Scratch that. There must be.

It's not like she can undo her wish… Can she?

Even if she did though Kimberly would still probably never forgive her.

Not after all of this…

Not if they can’t get Mamaji… and Bapu… and Richard… and most of all Max back.

“There you are,” Kim quietly says making her presence known within the room. Trini lifts her head and is instantly greeted to the hint of a warm and sympathetic smile.

“Kim, I--”

“Stop.” Kim slowly makes her way over towards the bunk beds and takes a seat next to Trini. “No more apologizing.”

“But--”

“I mean it. There’s nothing to apologize for.”

“Kimberly…”

“Trinity…” Kim mirrors Trini’s tone. She scoots a bit closer and then ever so gently reaches over and runs her fingers through Trini’s hair.

“This is all my fault,” Trini sighs.

“No, it's not.”

“Kim, I--”

“This could've happened to any of us,” Kim responds.

“But it didn't. It happened to me. And I made a spur of the moment wish--”

“After I pretty much blindsided you by showing up unannounced with my son and boyfriend,” Kim finishes Trini’s sentence.

“Don’t you mean fiancee?”

“Not my point.” Kim shakes her head in amused disbelief. “My point is, this is technically more my fault than anyone else’s here. So if we’re going to blame anyone it should be me.”

“That’s insane. You didn’t make the wish.”

“And you weren’t the one whose actions triggered it in the first place.”

“Jesus, Kim. Can’t you just let me take the blame for this?” Trini says. She pushes herself up off of the bunk bed and starts to pace the cramped quarters. “I’m the one who found the stone… and caused everyone to disappear… and get hurt… and Max…”

“No.”

Trini stops dead in her tracks at the sound of the simple yet powerful word. “What?”

“I’m not letting you.”

“And just how are you gonna stop me, huh?”

But Kim doesn’t respond. She instead rises from the bunk bed and moves to close the distance between the two of them until there is barely an inch left of space. And Trini feels herself melt under the loving gaze of those chocolate brown eyes.

How can Kimberly be so forgiving?

So understanding?

She’s supposed to hate her?

To blame her for everything that’s happened?

But instead…

Instead…

Trini’s thoughts are cut short by the familiar sensation of Kim’s soft lips upon her own. The kiss is gentle and yet somehow speaks volumes as Kim cups Trini’s cheeks with her hands. And Trini gives in, fully letting Kim take the lead in every sense of the word.

Before Trini can register what’s transpiring, they are back on the bed again with Kim dominating each and every move. The crippling guilt that Trini has been slowly drowning in seems to sudden dissipate as Kim maps a path of tender kisses across the expanse of her body. Each one leaving an everlasting mark on Trini’s soul. Once again, it’s love. In its purest form. And it’s nothing short of overwhelming.

Tears begin to fall from Trini’s eyes causing Kim to momentarily pause. She carefully brushes them away with the pads of her thumbs and then places another light kiss on Trini’s lips. “Shh. It’s going to be okay, Mi Vida. I’ve got you.”

And that’s all Trini needs to hear to finally let go of the last ounces of guilt. She gives a small nod in response and then relaxes into the touch of the one person in the entire world that she loves the most…

Kimberly Ann Hart.  

[shamelessly4shameless-blog]

130lb of Ukrainian Courage (pt.17)

Mandy pauses on the stairs, she can hear soft piano music coming from the little second hand radio Ian likes to have on in the kitchen when he is making coffee. She’s been with them for nearly two weeks and Ian has been back at work for most of that time. He’s just got home from his first of three night shifts and Mickey is just getting ready to go out to work. The lines ‘ships that pass in the night, and speak each other in passing’ come to Mandy unbidden as she listens to the soft murmur of their voices but she can’t place them, maybe a song she heard or something? She shrugs it off and treads lightly down, peering round the banister to glance at the two men.

Ian is sat on the counter top and Mickey is sat on a kitchen chair in front of him, one of Ian’s bare feet cradled in his hands, his thumbs working up and down the sole. Ian’s other foot is resting lightly on Mickey’s thigh. They each have a cigarette dangling from their lips, although Mickey’s is unlit.

“Is it here?”

“Up a little … yeah … oh yeah! Right there! Mmmmm!”

Ian laughs softly and tips his head back in bliss as Mickey’s right thumb finds the exact spot he needed. Ian is rakishly perfect under the dim glow of the kitchen light, his hair a little messy, flopping over to one side in a sweep of orange and red, like a birthday candle caught on the breath of a wish; but it is Mickey who Mandy’s eyes are drawn to.

He is looking up at Ian with the gentlest smile on his face that Mandy has ever seen. It is a little wonky because of the cigarette but it reaches all the way to his eyes and Mandy wonders how she never noticed this shadow of softness that lurks around his hard edges before.

“Keep makin’ noises like that I’m gonna be late for work.”

“Keep pressing your thumb like that and I’m going to rob a bank so you never have to work again.”

Ian counters happily. Mickey snorts softly and runs the heel of his hand up and down Ian’s foot a few times before glancing up at the clock and regretfully patting his ankle.

“I’m sorry but I gotta go. Does that feel a little looser though?”

“Like new.”

Ian assures him, hopping off of the counter and straddling Mickey’s lap, bumping his ass down with a deliberate roll of his hips. He leans in close and whispers something that Mandy can’t hear and she feels that is probably for the best, given the wolfish grin that suffuses her brother’s face.

“I’ll hold you to that, Firecrotch. Now come on, move your ass.”

Mickey pats Ian’s leg and they both stand up. Mandy knows she should move or make her presence known but she’s just completely transfixed by them.

“I want you to try and get some sleep, okay? Don’t be stayin’ up readin’ or any shit like that.”

“Okay Dad.”

Ian teases and receives a middle finger in response.

“You need anything, you call me. Tommy don’t give a shit about me takin’ off early as long as I buy him a couple beers to make up for it so don’t worry about gettin’ me in trouble. Just call.”

Ian’s face softens and he nods

“I’ll be fine. I’m gonna get a few hours sleep and then hang out with Mandy.”

“Cool. Alright, I’ll see you later. I love you.”

“Love you too. Keep safe and don’t murder Alan.”

“Be doin’ the world a fuckin’ favour if I did, man.”

Mickey grins as the back door closes behind him. A few moments later the sound of his car starts up and headlights swing across the kitchen and then the sound fades as he drives down the street.

Mandy shakes herself and stands up, making a show of clearing her throat and clomping down the last few stairs.

“Hey!”

She smiles, rubbing her eyes for effect. Ian doesn’t seem any the wiser, he’s still got that dopey smile on his face from Mickey as he waves a hand in greeting

“Mornin’. How you feeling?”

“Sick.”

Mandy admits, helping herself to juice from the fridge

Ian makes a low humming noise at the back of his throat and nibbles his lip in excitement. This is the first time Mandy has made any comment that can even loosely be linked to her pregnancy since first telling him of it. Mickey has firmly forbidden him from bringing it up with her until she is ready to talk, but Ian has never been great at leaving things alone and unlike her brother, Mandy does often want to talk things through – she just needs a bit of a nudge.

“You mean, like morning sickness?”

Mandy hesitates and then nods.

“Yeah I think it must be. Kinda freaky huh?”

Ian shakes his head and pulls up the chair Mickey vacated, gesturing for her to sit.

“Do you want to talk about it?”

Mandy sighs. She needs to make a decision but it feels too huge, too heavy. The father is long gone and thank God. She is safer for it and her child, if she dares to think of it as her child, is safer for it too.

She needs to try and find work but who will hire her? Most likely no one Mandy wants to work for.

Mickey and Ian have said nothing about rent or bills and both told her, in very different ways, not to worry about it when she has brought it up.

Maybe she does want to talk about it all, maybe she’s ready to.

“Aren’t you tired?”

Mandy asks taking in the slightly tired lines around his eyes.

“Not really.”

He shrugs. It’s true, he really isn’t tired and he has lodged that as the potential signifier of a manic episode on the brink but for now it’s actually useful so he just smiles and pours the rest of Mickey’s morning coffee between two mugs and hands one to his friend.

“Well … I guess the big question is whether or not I’m gonna keep it.”

Ian nods and sips his drink, desperately hoping his face looks neutral. Mickey has made it very clear, in that slightly formidable way he has when something is very important to him, that as far as Mandy is concerned, neither of them have any opinion on that issue one way or the other.

“The guy is a prick but most men are so I guess if I ever want to be a Mom, I just have to get over that.”

Mandy continues, absently winding a long strand of dark hair around her finger.

“Do you? Want to be a Mom?”

Ian asks, leaning back against the counter.

“I guess so. I mean, I like the idea of it. Not sure I’d be any good but I mean … well, shit! If even Mickey can manage a kid …”

“Hey!”

“Well you know what I mean! Would you have ever picked Mick for being a good dad?”

“Of course!”

Ian frowns at her but Mandy shrugs, unperturbed.

“Really?”

Mandy gives Ian a sceptical glance and Ian nods, folding his arms defensively

“Yeah. He’s always had a good heart and he’s loyal and takes care of the people he loves. He’s brilliant with Yevgeny.”

“Oh! Yeah, no, he is and I didn’t mean … It’s just I could never have seen him being like that.”

“Well I could. Just like I can see you being an awesome mom. You’re smart and kind and you’re crazy protective – you’d be brilliant.”

Mandy ducks her head, blushing at the compliment.

“This baby wouldn’t have a dad though. Just me.”

“But he or she will have two uncles who are basically dad’s. We’ll be there Mandy. Every step of the way. If you’re worried that you’d be alone, don’t be.”

“I don’t want to be a burden on you guys.”

“You won’t be. We’ll get a bigger place and you can stay with us while you save up for your own home.”

“You think Mickey would move just to help me out?”

“It was his idea actually.”

Mandy is quiet for a minute taking that information in and then she sighs and smiles gently at her friend.

“You want me to have it, huh?”

Ian draws a sharp breath, well and truly caught between the wills of two Milkovich’s. It is a little like being caught between a hungry tiger and a hungry lion and knowing that whichever way you turn, you’re lunch meat.

Might as well be honest lunch meat.

“Yeah, I do.”

“Me to.”

Mandy smiles and just like that the decision is made.

*

Mandy is frying hamburger in their huge old skillet when Mickey gets home. He sniffs appreciatively as he tugs his work boots off and rolls his shoulders. He’s been a labourer for a few months but his body is still adjusting to it and he is always stiff as Hell at the end of the day. He doesn’t mind the work and Tommy mostly leaves him alone to get on with it, but it has taken a while for him to adjust to having a legitimate job and not just coming and going as he pleases. Still, with Yev getting older and Ian working steadily, it was time to make the effort to go completely legit. Mickey has too much to lose now if a scam, heist, or deal were to go wrong.

Mandy glances over her shoulder at Mickey and watches him roll the kinks out of his neck. She is ridiculously glad he is home. Ian has only been gone a couple of hours but her head is too full of thoughts and helter-skelter emotions and Mandy really wants the company.

“Burgers will be ready in ten minutes, okay?”

“Thanks.”

“Beer?”

“Yeah.”

“Good day?”

“Yeah…. I mean Alan’s a prick and Jim’s a fuckin’ liability, the guy don’t even seem to know which end of a drill to hold, but I was down the other end of the yard so they mostly stayed out of my way. Anyway, how was your day? You see Ian before he left for work?”

“I told Ian I want to keep the baby.”

Her hand flies to her mouth as if trying to push the words back in but it’s too late and Mandy promptly bursts into tears. Mickey freezes, a cigarette half-way to his lips, unprepared for the sudden emotional shit-storm. For a wild moment he considers grabbing his boots and running away but that is always his first thought whenever Ian or Yev get upset too and just like with his boys, the moment passes and he stands up and places a hand on her arm, with a sympathetic noise.

“Hey, come on, sit down.”

“I’m sorry, shit, I’m really sorry.”

Mandy pats her face with the sleeve of her shirt and tries not to smudge what is left of her eye liner as Mickey awkwardly pats her back and gestures at the stove

“Go sit  down, I can do this.”

Mickey goes to take the flipper out of her hand but Mandy shakes her head irritably, holding it out of his reach

“No, you’re filthy. Take a shower and I’ll finish up.”

Mickey gives her a concerned glance but does as she asks and heads to the bathroom, grabbing his cell on the way out. While the shower heats up Mickey fires a quick text to his boyfriend.

Mandys crying. Keeping baby. Thanks 4 the fuckin heads-up.

Oh shit! Is she upset cause I told her I think she should? She seemed ok before.

You did what??? WTF Ian?

Shit. She pissed at me? Really sorry Mick. Talk 2morow?

Damn right we will.

Ok. Sorry again. Love you.

LY2

Mickey scowls at the phone and purses his lips. He doesn’t want Mandy pressured into anything and he certainly doesn’t want Ian painting some happy picture of what being a parent is. It is hard fucking work and Mandy doesn’t have a job or a partner or any savings as far as Mickey can tell. A kid is going to complicate her life more than it already is and if that is what she wants … well fine. But no one is going to push her into it. Not even Ian.

He washes the dirt of the day from his body and hair and makes his way downstairs dressed in mostly clean jeans a passable long sleeved tee, the sleeves pushed up to his elbows.

“Hey.”

“Hey!”

Mandy smiles brightly at him but her eyes are red rimmed and Mickey frowns at her.

“You need to talk or somethin’?”

“It’s okay, Mickey. Besides your burger is getting cold.”

“Yeah well cold burger never killed anyone. Come on.”

He jerks his head toward the living room and walks off, leaving Mandy little choice but to follow.

Mickey sits on the edge of the sofa, legs spread wide taking up more physical space than he really needs and settling into it as if he is preparing for a fight.

“Ian’s got a big fuckin’ mouth.”

He snaps as Mandy settles beside him

“Don’t be mad at him…”

“I’ll be mad at whoever the fuck I want to be mad at. Havin’ a kid is hard fuckin’ work Mandy”

“You don’t think I can do it?”

The hurt in her voice is painfully obvious and Mickey runs a hand tersely through his hair.

“Course you can do it. And you’d be fine. But … you got options, alright?”

“Do you want me to have the baby?”

Mickey’s nostrils flare and he arches both brows at her in obvious irritation.

“What kind of dumb question is that?”

“Well … Ian said you guys would help out so you have to have some say in it, right?”

Mandy grimaces at how feeble that sounds as Mickey makes an exasperated gesture

“No, we don’t get any fuckin’ say in it. This is your life, your kid, you do whatever you gotta do. No one should be pushed into havin’ a kid they don’t want. Sometimes it works out and sometimes it don’t but it’s besides the point. You got a choice Mandy and no one is takin’ that away from you.”

“I do want this baby. I’m just scared, Mick. I’m really scared.”

Mandy reaches out on impulse and grips her brother’s hand. It’s something she would never have done before but times are very different now and he squeezes her fingers tightly in his own, his expression earnest and intense a way that makes Mandy smile despite her fluttering nerves.

“You don’t need to be scared. You got Ian, you got me,”

Mickey takes a breath and then lets it out quickly

“and we both want to take care of you, Mandy.”

Mandy gives a small shaky laugh and blinks rapidly, lifting her eyes to the ceiling fan

“What did Ian do to you?”

Mickey snorts and twitches his nose, slouching back into the sofa

“Fucked if I know.”

The siblings look across at each other and then away again, grinning.

“Poor Ian. He’s got two Milkovich’s already and now he’s gonna have four of us.”

Mickey chuckles and shakes his head

“Nah, he’ll just have four people fuckin’ swooning after him instead of two. He’ll be in his element.”

*

Ian edges the door open and closes it quietly behind him. His second night shift has wiped him out, he’s tired and irritable and worried about the scolding he is pretty damn certain is coming his way. He considers ignoring the scent of coffee already wafting from the kitchen and ignoring Mickey altogether until he’s had a chance to sleep, but that feels shitty so he braces his shoulders, drops his back by the sofa and wanders through.

Mickey looks up when Ian enters the room and his face softens from it’s usual morning scowl.

“Hey man.”

“Hey.”

Ian kisses the top of his head and sits down beside him, accepting the toast and pill box that Mickey slides across to him.

“How mad are you?”

Ian asks, munching his toast and popping his pills casually. Mickey smiles slightly to himself.

“Like a two out of ten.”

“Huh. You’re usually a three at this time in the morning.”

Ian quips back but gives Mickey a small knowing smirk which is returned and the matter of who said what is dropped.

Ian strokes Mickey’s morning hair back from his face

“I guess we have to start planning a move and sorting out all the paper work for that...”

“Hey, yeah about that. I … ah … I wanted to ask you somethin’ and I wanted to wait a bit but with a new house to buy and other shit to do … and like you say, we’re gonna have paperwork and  ...”

Mickey presses his lips together to stop himself rambling and locks eyes with Ian, who is gazing at him with fond amusement.

Mickey reaches into his shirt pocket and pulls out a small leather box and Ian’s eyes widen in shock.

Mickey sits up straighter and taps the box lid with one finger. He had thought to propose in July, but if anything, the last month has taught Mickey that life gets away from you pretty damn quickly and it can throw curve balls that can knock even the strongest rhythm into flux. If you have something you want to do, or something you need to say, you have to do it sooner because later is not fucking guaranteed. He nearly lost Ian, nearly lost his family and now there is a brand new life forming right under this very roof! Everything changes so fast … everything except how he feels about Ian. That has been a constant for a decade and Ian deserves to be shown how certain Mickey really is about him.

“I don’t know how to do this properly, but … uh ... Ian, will you marry me?”

It isn’t poetic, but it is a bold and brave and more than Ian had ever really dared to hope to hear.

Mickey opens the box and reveals a wide silver band with a minute diamond set in the centre.

“I will. Jesus, Mick! Of course I will!”

Ian beams at him and the quiet beauty of the moment last for a few seconds more before he explodes out of the chair and throws himself into Mickey’s arms. The little chair tips back alarmingly but by some miracle doesn’t collapse beneath their combined weight. Ian cups Mickey’s face in his hands, staring at him as if he is some new and marvellous thing that Ian is seeing for the very first time.

“Holy shit, Mickey. We’re getting married!”

“Hell yes, we are! Gimmee your hand.”

The ring slips easily over Ian’s knuckle and settles perfectly beside the letter ‘U’ on Mickey’s own finger as they link their left hands together on the table top.

[mychristopherstokes66world]

The government has become the enemy of the people. No one can deny that they are colluding with social media to censor everyone on the internet. Both parties are calling for unconstitutional gun control measures from bump stocks to silencers to Red Flag Laws. How long are we going to pretend that our government serves the people? Or that the people really have any say? I for one will not abide tyrants and have every intention in engaging in open rebellion against Jews, pedos and traitors.  They are clamping down hard on free speech, gun rights, going after "hate crimes" and pushing the idea that whites are domestic terrorists. Day of the Rope draws nigh.  http://bit.ly/2JWUqOh You can call for violence and revolution as much as you want with ZERO legal culpability in the US. http://bit.ly/1B8OCb1 What this means: Unless your speech directly inspires some one to commit a violent crime in your immediate vicinity immediately after expressing your speech AND this was your intent, you are 100% protected. Here, let's try it out: You can even directly threaten some one online: Don't be afraid of being put on a 'list'. We are all on the list already. See: mass surveillance. They are just trying to intimidate you. Look at the legal precedents and firmly exercise your rights. Who are our symbols or important figures? I've made a small list but we should add more. We need to develop a year-round schedule of events and people to remind the public of what we are fighting for. Ted Kaczynski Brenton Tarrant Seth Rich Aaron Swartz Reddit founder Marvin Heemeyer The Killdozer Julian Assange Gary Webb We must win the infowar before we can fight the race war. A fuckton of people have woken up the the Jewish agenda but we still need more to reach that oh-so-essential critical mass. We also need to start getting organized IRL in "friend groups" that meet and train and discuss tactics. Don't openly call yourselves militias or white nationalists but work towards those ends regardless. Symbols: Tricorn hat Revolutionary Figures New Figures: Ted Kaczynski Brenton Tarrant Seth Rich Aaron Swartz Reddit founder Marvin Heemeyer The Killdozer Juliana Assange Gary Webb Terry A. Davis Symbolic events Waco Ruby Ridge POSSIBLE ALLIES: Amish Japanese Hindu Indians Mormons Ethnic Europeans THE ENEMY: Jews Pedos Traitors Muslims Jews Chinese Socialists Should Terry A Davis be considered? I believe he holds a special place in this Pantheon. He is the most Chaotic of the bunch.

the revolution you speak of is already underway - there is no putting it back into the box - there are tens of millions of people that have “nothing left to lose” they’re fukin pissed and ready to kill - they’re not rednecks but 18 - 35 yr old’s who have lost hope - they work at wal mart and ready lubes and starbucks who spend 1/2 their income to degenerate hypocrite boomer landlords who will feel the full wrath of their anger - sonif yer legit pray for a carrington event - it will make it much easier with the comm system down...

I have but one lamp by which my feet are guided; and that is the lamp of experience. I know of no way of judging of the future but by the past. And judging by the past, I wish to know what there has been in the conduct of the British ministry for the last ten years, to justify those hopes with which gentlemen have been pleased to solace themselves, and the House? Is it that insidious smile with which our petition has been lately received? Trust it not, sir; it will prove a snare to your feet. Suffer not yourselves to be betrayed with a kiss. Ask yourselves how this gracious reception of our petition comports with these war-like preparations which cover our waters and darken our land. Are fleets and armies necessary to a work of love and reconciliation? Have we shown ourselves so unwilling to be reconciled, that force must be called in to win back our love? Let us not deceive ourselves, sir. These are the implements of war and subjugation; the last arguments to which kings resort. I ask, gentlemen, sir, what means this martial array, if its purpose be not to force us to submission? Can gentlemen assign any other possible motive for it? Has Great Britain any enemy, in this quarter of the world, to call for all this accumulation of navies and armies? No, sir, she has none. They are meant for us; they can be meant for no other. They are sent over to bind and rivet upon us those chains which the British ministry have been so long forging. And what have we to oppose to them? Shall we try argument? Sir, we have been trying that for the last ten years. Have we anything new to offer upon the subject? Nothing. We have held the subject up in every light of which it is capable; but it has been all in vain. Shall we resort to entreaty and humble supplication? What terms shall we find which have not been already exhausted? Let us not, I beseech you, sir, deceive ourselves. Sir, we have done everything that could be done, to avert the storm which is now coming on. We have petitioned; we have remonstrated; we have supplicated; we have prostrated ourselves before the throne, and have implored its interposition to arrest the tyrannical hands of the ministry and Parliament. Our petitions have been slighted; our remonstrances have produced additional violence and insult; our supplications have been disregarded; and we have been spurned, with contempt, from the foot of the throne. In vain, after these things, may we indulge the fond hope of peace and reconciliation. There is no longer any room for hope. If we wish to be free2 if we mean to preserve inviolate those inestimable privileges for which we have been so long contending2if we mean not basely to abandon the noble struggle in which we have been so long engaged, and which we have pledged ourselves never to abandon until the glorious object of our contest shall be obtained, we must fight! I repeat it, sir, we must fight! An appeal to arms and to the God of Hosts is all that is left us! They tell us, sir, that we are weak; unable to cope with so formidable an adversary. But when shall we be stronger? Will it be the next week, or the next year? Will it be when we are totally disarmed, and when a British guard shall be stationed in every house? hall we gather strength by irresolution and inaction? Shall we acquire the means of effectual resistance, by lying supinely on our backs, and hugging the delusive phantom of hope, until our enemies shall have bound us hand and foot? Sir, we are not weak if we make a proper use of those means which the God of nature hath placed in our power. Three millions of people, armed in the holy cause of liberty, and in such a country as that which we possess, are invincible by any force which our enemy can send against us. The battle, sir, is not to the strong alone; it is to the vigilant, the active, the brave. Besides, sir, we have no election. If we were base enough to desire it, it is now too late to retire from the contest. There is no retreat but in submission and slavery! Our chains are forged! Their clanking may be heard on the plains of Boston! The war is inevitableand let it come! I repeat it, sir, let it come. It is in vain, sir, to extenuate the matter. Gentlemen may cry, Peace, Peace but there is no peace. The war is actually begun! The next gale that sweeps from the north will bring to our ears the clash of resounding arms! Our brethren are already in the field! Why stand we here idle? What is it that gentlemen wish? What would they have? Is life so dear, or peace so sweet, as to be purchased at the price of chains and slavery? Forbid it, Almighty God!  I know not what course others may take; but as for me, give me liberty or give me death! The truth and violence, but it MUST be in that order.  Most importantly though, whites need to start viewing each other as blood-brothers and allies. (((Individualism))) has poisoned out society and eroded community bonds. This damage must be healed but I'm not exactly sure how other than pointing at a common enemy. We need to start organizing into small, unofficial militia groups with similar agendas.  Jews are so powerful today because they ENJOY working together to cause mayhem and to further their own wealth and power. Jews almost never betray each other and seem to have evolved to mob together to get what they want collectively. It's literally instinct for them. We must emulate this to an extent but with waging an actual war rather than the soft-power games that kikes excel at.  Also, JOIN THE MILITARY. We need lot's of allies embedded within the armed forces, because without their help we will never win.

I think you doth glow too much. But just in case you don't, you need to be realistic. The few hundred people here and the 'tards with their own militias are way too small to accomplish anything before getting mowed down by the national guard. You can't do it like this. You have to start with a militia, start in small towns where people see this kiked bullshit and grow yourself a movement. How did the revolution succeed? With wide support, like over 60%. You have like 0.6% and want to take down a heavily funded and well oiled machine. You can't. Build an "SJW" like movement and then we can talk.

We are going to take this seriously and go step by step. Create a list of grievances, a list of enemies, and discuss ways to move forward in ending Tyranny in the United States. We need a calendar of events to draw peoples attention and give us reason to make noise constantly. Ebba Aukerlund Waco Ruby Ridge Seth Rich Otoya Yamaguchi

We need the minds before the power goes out. That's why we need to start propaganda now. Detail who the problem is, what crimes they have committed, start a public discussion and demand change. We need another name for this besides Open Insurrection... so we can talk about it on other forums Organize and train in your local community. But don't just prepare for the day of the rope. If you bunker up with MRE's and guns you will be called a cult and the swat team will descend upon you. The proper course of action is to nominally engage with society as it is, while changing the communities you occupy. This doesn't mean riots or protests, it means starting projects to improve neighborhoods, and following through on them. The ONLY way to avoid being false flagged is to present yourselves consistently as above reproach. But the only way to cause bigger reverbrations is to be seen as better men. This means you and your lads must relentlessly pursue intellectual and physical supremacy. To be /fit/ and /lit/, one and all. By happy coincidence, lifting together and deb8ing each other will foster comeraderie, trust, and solidarity.  THE WAY TO TAKE BACK OUR LAND IS INCH BY FUCKING INCH. This is my whitepill, and I hope it's yours as well, anons\\ word from the editor  the only way to do this is to red pill as many as we can.. once people know what is going on no one will stand for it and they will all stand up... we have the right to take our country back remember that we can do this with out fighting or anyone getting hurt.. why destroy all we built  https://thedevilman666.blogspot.com/https://www.facebook.com/groups/qanonreports https://twitter.com/CIACLOWN1 https://www.bitchute.com/channel/ciaclown16661/