#he skipped the meds and went straight to murder

[tethered-heartstrings]

[embrassemoi]

No Body, No Crime ✁ 1

AU - Y/N L/N is a second-year law student attending Stanford and studying under Professor Aaron Hotchner. Along with his associate attorneys, Ms. L/N is alongside some of the most ambitious and cutthroat law students in the nation. However, her life gets flipped upside down as she’s thrust into a life of murder, sex and lies.

Main Pairing: Spencer Reid x [F]Reader

Content — Mature themes, blood, major and minor character death, violence, angst, triggering themes, bad coping mechanisms, drugs, mental health shit, alcoholism, lots of smut, language, fluff, mystery, thriller, mentions of cheating, canonical typical themes , dark academia vibes, explicit content - read with caution

DISCLAIMER: This story will contain MATURE content. It will include themes such as smut, violence, etc (see content). If you are not 18+ and unable to handle such themes, respectfully, please exit this story. It is not my intention to make readers uncomfortable or trigger them in any way. If you continue to read the story despite the multiple warnings, I am not responsible for any triggers that may pop up.

Also, based off this blurb! 

I am also not a law student, so there is bound to be misinformation!

【 ao3 | Masterlist | Playlist 】

CHAPTER 1: Death and All His Friends

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Blood, she thinks, you never really know how much blood is in a person. Logically, she did know; she had to learn how many pints there were in the human body from med school and the mass amount of profile study cases. From looking at crime scenes, reading textbooks, medical journals and fake charts; blood has never bothered her, if anything, she got used to seeing and being around it.

There are roughly about ten gallons of blood in the average adult, but typically, losing more than forty percent will result in death. That was about two thousand millilitres.

But, you never realize just how much blood a person can hold, not until a human is slaughtered like an animal, eyes glossed over, body turned cold and stiff — splayed out in front of you. It seems like a lot more than what was described.

There’s a saying, bleed like a pig. Well, she understood what it meant now.

God, she sounded like Spencer.

“What are we going to do with the body?”

“Let’s leave it. We need to go back and clean!”

“No, let’s bury it.”

A chuckle of utter disbelief forces its way out of Derek’s mouth in a rush. It’s both strained and ragged and sounds as if he’s about to burst into tears, but the shock and anger seem to immerse deep in his bones and control his actions. His head shakes subconsciously, “You’re — you’re fucking joking, right? It’s the middle of winter! Tell me how the fuck we’re going to bury a body when the soil’s hard?!”  

There’s a collective panicked sigh that goes through the group as the implications finally start to settle in.

“Be any louder!” Emily half-shouts. She paces back and forth, the freshly fallen snow crunches under her shoes as they leave footprints in their wake. Her hands make extravagant hand movements, almost in an attempt to speak with her actions. But, the only thing that has Y/N somewhat grounded is the rusty blood on Emily’s hands. The stark contrast of her pale skin against the deep red does nothing but make bile rush to her throat.

“The body is what gets us caught!” JJ cuts in through her half-sobs.

“The one time it snows in California! Since when do we get snow?!”

Sticky, cold, dry, flakey blood. It brings too much attention to the blood painting her body in a cruel, evil painting. Y/N lifts a shaky hand as she turns to observe the way the pads of her fingers were stained red. Underneath her fingernails, she can see the blood caking, dried underneath and can feel the heavy liquid travelling up her sleeve.

Her fingers pressed together before a hand shoots up, trying to pick off the blood in a hasty attempt.

Everything was uncomfortable — too uncomfortable and it was sticky and disgusting and there was too much happening. Her brain was overstimulated and all she wanted to do was yell or cry or strip herself clean from these heavy clothes, hiding the blood drenching her underneath. A hand went to claw at the fabric — she needed to breathe — she needed air and it was too tight and —

The falling snow had finally come to a stop, the ground becomes muddy, wet snow being tracked all around but aside from that, it’s dry out. Panic is slow seep within her body, only just registering the dull, prickling ache that travels up the side of her right arm. Not to mention the pounding in her skull felt like someone had taken a power tool, drilling a burl hole into the side of her head in hopes of creating a make-shift lobotomy. On instinct, her hand reaches up to her temples, massaging small circles in hopes to find relief.

But then she catches sight of her hand again from her peripheral vision, or rather, it’s as if she can feel it laminating her skin. Blood.

Now there must be smeared streaks of dried blood coating her face. Fuck, now she really feels like throwing up.

A soft wail can be heard in the background somewhere, but it sounds distant and underwater. She thinks it’s JJ. Her high-pitched cries are loud and she thinks that’s Derek’s voice yelling at her and god… it only amplifies her headache.

She needed an aspirin, Advil — maybe Spencer had some.

Her mind wanders back to the group. Emily… Emily — she’s — Y/N doesn’t know where Emily went actually. She could have sworn she was by the trees…

She continued to pick at her skin absentmindedly, and now she couldn’t tell where her blood started and the one that was sprayed onto her ended.

And Spencer, he’s pacing and hadn’t muttered a word since they left Hotch’s house. His body language is closed off, his hand rubbing up and down his arms in either a self-soothing method or because it’s cold out. She assumes it’s the former.

The one time — the one fucking time the asshole is supposed to be smart, his IQ magically drops below zero.

Everyone is arguing and they all hear the faint cheers, laughter, early fireworks and music blaring in the background. The sound of the bonfire crackles in the distance and all she can do is drown it out. She was supposed to be having fun. She should’ve been visiting home, or maybe studying of fucking Spencer, not wearing shoes twice her size, gloves to cover up her fingerprints; not trying to come up with an alibi and there definitely shouldn’t be someone else’s blood clinging to her. She should’ve been anywhere but here. It’s too much.

Lightheaded, Y/N stumbles backwards, supporting herself against a nearby tree. The shadows and black coat camouflaged her, engulfing her into the night and she feels an odd sense of comfort by it. But, it does anything but calms her down as her chest begins to rise rapidly up and down.

Oh god, oh shit, shit, shit! They’re all fucked — she’s fucked. Her DNA is all over the crime scene. The crime scene is on her and probably under the body’s fingernails. There was no way she was getting out of this. It wasn’t even her fault and look where she is.

She should’ve listened to her Grandparents; don’t go to law school, it’ll turn her into something she’s not. Y/N smiles twistedly thinking about it, they were right.

You can’t get away with murder.

Shit, fuck, fuck, FUCK!

“We need to stop wasting time,” Emily announces, appearing remarkably calm.

“W-we should call the police,” Y/N mumbles in a shaky voice. Her voice hitches and she sucks in a cry.

All of their heads, besides Spencer’s, whip over to her; she’s on the verge of breaking — possibly even running off and going straight to the local police station. Her phone suddenly feels heavy in her pocket.

“What we’re not going to do is that! Do you want to spend the rest of your life in jail?!” Derek exclaims. His mouth goes to open again before he suddenly halts, looking over to Spencer and shouting. “Ayo, kid-fucking-genius, could you, I don’t know — think?!”

The yelling makes her shrink in on herself. Yes, call the police, turn yourself in. Obstruction of justice; tampering with evidence, manslaughter, attempting to hide a body, invasion of privacy, possible perjury — all this leads to incarceration and more time. Maybe she could even get a deal, say that she was in shock, dealing with PTSD. Immunity! Maybe she could strike herself and Spencer an immunity deal.

God — they killed her. They murdered someone.

Immense guilt bubbles its way through her before she turns to gag on air. Her hands clutches her stomach as she heaves, distantly hearing the arguing background.

“— about Hotch?”

“What about him? He’s going to put us in jail himself. If we’re lucky, he’ll kill us so we can skip a life sentence!”

JJ cries louder. God was she fucking annoying.

“He doesn’t give two shits about her —” “Could everyone just stop for a fucking moment,” a new, irritated voice cuts in. It sounds like it’s been pushed through gritted teeth, muddled by straining and holding back tears. It’s Spencer.

His eyes shut, the palm of his hands pressed harshly on them before rubbing them hard. But, they travel up to his forehead and through his hair, pulling down so hard that Y/N would be surprised if he didn’t already lose a chunk. But within a swift motion, he crouches to the ground in a fetal-like position; the balls of his feet roll back and forth, making his entire body bounce in small rhythms.

He’s having a panic attack, judging by the way his breathing cuts in and out in large volumes, hyperventilation bound to happen soon.

The entire group stays silent before Derek has enough. He walks up to Spencer, a hand clutching his jacket which forces him to stare straight into his eyes.

“Don’t treat him like that,” Emily tries to cut in.

“If you don’t give us something good within the next few seconds, you better pray to god —”

With newfound determination, Spencer meets his eyes with a fiery look, his chest puffed out a bit and his voice is even.

“We burn it.”

━━━━━━━━━༻✈︎༺━━━━━━━━━

Friday, August 29th, 2003

Palo Alto, California. Apartment 7

Four months before

A clanging sound reverberates throughout the empty hallway for the third time within the last five minutes. Her keys.

An annoyed sigh involuntarily leaves her lips as she struggles to lift the stacks of heavy boxes in her arms. Her attention was drawn to a bulletin board near her door. A missing person’s photo was plastered, marked with an eye-catching red border. Printed underneath a photo of a man in bold letters: George Floyet, twenty-five-year-old student at Palo Alto University. Last seen on July 30th, 2003.

When Y/N L/N was fourteen, she vaguely remembered people asking her where she saw herself in the next ten years. Now standing outside her newly rented apartment, sweating as she juggled a stack of large boxes without tripping — well, she certainly hadn’t thought this.

Life had many ups and downs, as cliche as that sounded. She hadn’t expected to graduate university with an English and Human Physiology degree, nor had she expected into medical school before ultimately deciding to take the LSATs, pursuing a career in law.

Truly, had Y/N used one word to describe her career ambitions at the moment, she’d say she’s pretty fucked and clueless. Although, she’d liked to consider herself fairly motivated, resilient, perhaps even strong-willed and quick on her feet. Scratch that, if anything, the one thing she did pride herself on was her ability to compose herself quickly and the want to overcome fear. It was a motto, of sorts, which she’d been sticking close to: going with the flow.

If anything, those were the attributes that built the foundation of what anyone needed to become a successful lawyer. Yes, that made her situation sound a lot less… pathetic.

But certainly, standing in the middle of a corridor in a shitty apartment with walls too thin to save money on rent, she’d consider herself pretty pathetic.

Oh, the joys of moving.

Just as she felt one of the boxes tipping, the sound of shuffling fills the hallway. A pair of large pale hands come out of nowhere, swiftly catching the stacked cardboard boxes with ease.

When she looked up, she hadn’t quite caught a look at the man in front of her as he bent down to pick up her keys. But when he finally stood straight, eyes locking, she took note of his features

He was tall, much taller than herself and dressed in black slacks and a light lilac dress shirt which was pushed up by the sleeves. He was young, probably the same age as her or younger. He was wide-eyed, almost doe-like and wore a nervous yet seemingly gentle expression.

“Hello,” said the stranger. His hair was rumpled as if he’d just woken up as darken eyebags accentuated his face. His face was sharp, features dark — but in a soft sharp way that made the shape of his nose and lips the most noticeable. Pink lips, a tired look, pretty face.

This stranger was friendly and very attractive. That was her first impression of him.

“Hi,” she replied, a bit breathless from the weight of juggling the boxes. But still, she smiled and her head tilted to the side slightly.

“I couldn’t help but notice that you were my new neighbour, I hope you don’t mind me helping, you looked like you needed it,” he says nervously, his extra free hand goes back to rub the back of his neck.

Y/N’s eyes shoot over to the door at the end of the hallway, conveniently next to hers: apartment 8. He must've heard the banging against the doors and walls, and suddenly, she felt guilty. She must’ve woken him up.

“Haha, yeah! I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to be so loud.”

“No! It’s fine.”

Now, both stand there a bit awkwardly before she coughs, which has him nodding and fumbling with her keys in his hand, “Er — I have a couple of minutes before I leave for work, do you still need help?”

“Right, yes!”

Y/N hands him over her other box, her hand taking the keys back as she clicks open her door. The smell of cleaning products filled her nose along with the smell of old books. It’s spacious, considering what she’s paying for it. It’s a flat, aside from the bathroom and kitchen and there’s a small balcony that’s connected with another set of railings outside. The view of green trees and flowers could be seen and suddenly, Y/N considers herself lucky when she’s realized the place she’s snagged.

The man trails behind her, setting the boxes down on the kitchen counter before dusting off any non-existent lint off his pants. His eyes quickly scan the area, in an analytical fashion.

He clears his throat, “Well, it was nice meeting you.”

She nods too, walking back up to her door to lead him out. “Likewise, neighbour.”

This time, a real smile crosses his face before looking down sheepishly, a small tint covering his cheeks. “Please, I’m Doctor Reid — but please, call me Spencer.”

“Doctor?” Her face lights up with curiosity. This man looks as young as her, younger — and she’s only twenty-four.

“Oh, I don’t practice medicine,” he quickly adds. His hands go to fiddle with each other, “I have three PhDs and an IQ of 187,” he explains. However, it’s not in a blatantly rude manner — like he’s trying to flaunt it. If anything, he looks embarrassed. His head drops to look down at his shoes, trying to make himself appear smaller, seeming uncomfortable. But like she said, Y/N likes to believe she’s quick on her feet.

“Well then, Doctor,” she teases, which has him going a deeper shade of pink, “I’m Y/N L/N, I have no PhDs, I used to practice medicine and I have an IQ of — probably a hundred or less.

At this, Spencer visibly relaxes as a deep chuckle makes its way out. He nods again, making his way out the door and does a small wave before disappearing back into his apartment. Y/N leaves her door open, but her back is faced towards it as she hears his door click back open and she feels the vibrations of his door closing before the tapping of his feet becomes more and more distant.

There are a dozen other boxes she ends up hauling in, but she’s noticed that Spencer must have somehow carried a few of the boxes to the top of the stairs rather than just leaving them in the lobby.

As she wipes down the surfaces, music blasting through her earbuds before unboxing her new bed frame, a smirk crosses her face; cheap rent, enrolled at one of the top law schools in the country, has enough money saved for the next few months and a cute, tall, polite and a fucking doctor that just so happens to be her neighbour — damn, Y/N doesn’t mind this at all.

【 Next Chapter 】

[curvynerdfan]

Never let me go

Happy x Reader

Requested by @isitmine I hope you like it hun! I’m sorry it took such a long time for me to complete! I added a lot more length to make up for it! School and work has been crazy but it was a lot of fun to write this and be creative!

Honorable tags: @justahopelessssromantic and @princessofthalia

Warnings: being hurt by a prospect, cursing, violent Happy, murder, a bit of gore

“Hey, didn’t Jax want y’all to meet up with Gemma? I thought she was getting her new furniture shipped in today.” Y/N asked.

“Why the fuck do you care?”, the prospect, Maggot, barked.

“Well, I was just hoping to see Happy soon.”, Y/N responded, confused on why he was being so rude.

“Oh! So you’re one of his bitches huh?”, he grumbled.

“No!”, she argued, “I am his old lady!”

Y/N couldn’t believe a prospect was being so disrespectful to an old lady. Let alone her! She didn’t think she was anything special but Happy was Sergeant-at-Arms and the terrifying Tacoma Killer and she was his pregnant wife. While thinking through the different possibilities of how to handle the situation, she felt a hand land on her neck.

Y/N was at the point where she thought she was going to pass out when she clawed out at his face. The first couple of swipes were misses, until she finally managed to dig her nails into him.The pain must of startled him enough because his grip began to slip. Y/N pulled away quickly and dropped to the ground. She was heaving and thought she might vomit.

“God dammit!” He shouted, bringing his hand up to his face only to see it covered in blood.

He started towards her again and picked up a broken beer bottle on the way.

“Think, about what you’re doing here Maggot,” Y/N kept pausing to breathe, “the club isn’t going to take this lightly”

“They don’t care about anyone but themselves! No one will miss a crow!” Maggot yelled, swiping at her with the broken bottle.

Y/N flinched and covered her stomach with her arms. She was barely showing right now, only in tight clothing but she still wasn’t going to let anything happen to her baby. Maggot missed the first time in his fit of rage but managed to catch Y/N’s left arm on the second swipe.

She began to scream in pain and shout for help, crying out for Happy or anyone else who may be nearby. Maggot swiped at Y/N again, but she luckily managed to knock the sharp glass out of his hand. This really pissed him off and before she could bring her arms up a hand collided with her face. Her head snapped to the side and when she brought a hand up to her face she realized she was crying.

Maggot appeared to have reached his wits end. His arm raised up into the air again and she began to pray to any diety that would listen. Screaming at the top of her lungs, hoping someone will hear her.

Jax looked up from the custom bike he was working on when he heard someone screaming like a banshee from within the clubhouse. He made eye contact with Opie and dropped his tools. Both brothers sprinted across the lot, worried for whoever was making that noise. They burst through the door and were enraged by what they saw.

Maggot was rearing back to hit her again, when he was suddenly jerked away from her. Opie had grabbed Maggot by his raised arm and dragged him away, surely dislocating the prospect’s shoulder.

Jax tried to console Y/N but she didn’t seem to recognize who he was. She was so overwhelmed with fear that she just curled in on herself. Jax believed she was still trying to protect her baby.

On his way towards the garage Opie ran into a frantic Gemma, “I heard screaming. What the hell is going on?”

“This piece of shit hurt Y/N!” Opie growled, throwing the prospect onto the concrete. “ Jax is in the clubhouse with her now. You should probably call Chibs, it didn’t look good.”

Gemma shook her head and stomped away and into the clubhouse. She had already dialed Chibs by the time she opened the door and gasped as he answered the phone.

“What’s wrong doll?” the irishman asked.

“It’s Y/N. Maggot hurt her pretty bad and we’re gonna need your help. How soon can you be here?” Gemma asked.

“Shite! I am grabbing my med bag now. I’ll be there in five.” He said and Gemma could here him scrambling to grab his stuff, “Put pressure on any bleeding and try to keep her from hyperventilating” he demanded as the motorcycle rumbled to life before he hung up on her.

Gemma ran to the kitchen and grabbed some towels before making her way to Y/N and her son. She pulled Jax away and told him to call Tig and Happy. Tig could organize everyone coming in for church so they could vote on Mr. Mayhem and Happy needed to be told what was going on. Jax flipped open his phone and walked to the bar to make the calls.

Gemma slowly moved further into Y/N’s line of sight and spoke in soft, dulcet tones, “Hey, baby. How about you let momma check on you, huh?” Gemma had helped raise Y/N with some other members of the community. Her family had bailed on her when she was sixteen and the town came together to help her. The club provided her with a dorm room and Gemma has been her mother figure ever since. “There’s a lot of blood sweetie…” Gemma grimaced, “Can you show me where it is coming from? You're safe now, your brothers and I are gonna take good care of you.”

“Happy?” Y/N whimpered, looking around.

“He’s on his way.” Jax cut in, walking up behind Gemma and putting a hand on his mom’s back.

“I want Happy!” Y/N whined again pitifully.

“I know sweetheart. She’ll be here soon. How about you let Ma look at your arm huh? Get you cleaned up some before Happy gets here.” Jax asked, knowing it would coax her into letting Gemma touch her.

“Okay... “ Y/N said and slowly uncurled.

When Y/N released her arm, they both gasped. Gemma quickie covered her arm with one of the towels and applied pressure. There was a gash going up her arm. Starting on the outside of her wrist and wrapping its way past her elbow. Some of it was going to need stitches, judging on how deep it was.

Chibs came barrelling through the door and went straight to the bar sink to scrub his hands. He paced quickly over to the trio, still drying his hands.

“Hello dolly, can I have a look see?” Chibs spoke softly to her, noting that she seemed to have gone into shock. “Atta girl!” he commended, when she didn’t flinch when he moved to check her injuries.

She was beginning to develop a deep bruise on the right side of her face. It appeared that the hit had managed to fracture her cheek bone and she had earned a black eye from the mistreatment. He lightly prodded her neck making sure there was no damage to her trachea or esophagus and deemed that she would heal easily enough but be tender for the next week. When he went to press his palm to her stomach and check on the baby she locked her hand on his wrist, digging her nails into him. Her eyes began to fill with tears again as she shook her head with fear.

“Okay, okay darlin’. I’m not gonna hurt you or the baby. Just wanna check on them. Gemma, could you try to put your palm on her stomach? I wanna see if we can get a kick. That means we can skip the hospital… Maybe just have a house call for an ultrasound later?” Chibs tried to speak softly and hide his concern. It didn’t look like the bastard had been able to make contact with her small bump but he had to be sure.

Gemma slowly reached out and when Y/N made no move to stop her, placed the hand that wasn’t holding the towel to her adopted daughter’s stomach. She waited worryingly, hoping to feel the baby kick.

The clubhouse door slammed open again and a rumbling “Babygirl!” spewed frantically out of Happy’s mouth as he trekked across the clubhouse. Gemma sighed in relief when the baby shifted at the sound of their father’s voice and nodded at Chibs. Gemma slowly shifted away from Y/N and stood to stop Happy quickly.

“What are you doing, Gem? I gotta see her!” Happy growled, restraining himself from letting his anger unleash on the club mom.

“And you will see her. I just wanna make sure you’re gonna keep your head on straight. She is in shock if you come in all burly and pissed it won’t help her or the baby. Jax has already called a meeting and that shit will get what is coming to him, but right now you need to be here for Y/N.”, Gemma spoke quickly and with authority. “Now, if you can keep your cool, I am sure it would be a big help for you to sit with her and help Chibs.”

Happy nodded his head and stepped around Gemma. Quickly crouching to the ground to make sure Y/N could see him.

“Happy!” She let out in quiet relief.

He shook his head in attempts to subdue his anger, “Yeah babygirl! I’m here now. Hmm, let me take a look at you?”

She slowly turned her head as his hand caressed her chin and happily allowed him to press his palm to her stomach. The baby slowly kicked along his palm and he smiled in relief.

He turned to Chibs to ask what he needed to do. The irishman directed the Tacoma Killer to gently move his old lady to wear he was sitting against the wall behind her with her body cradled between his legs. Y/N tilted her head back to let it rest against her husband as he wrapped his arms around her. At Chibs instruction his right arm went around her shoulders, his left rested along her baby bump and bent his left knee so she couldn’t see her hurt arm.

“Alright, little pinch hun and then it shouldn’t hurt so bad, hmmm.” Chibs said.

He slowly unwrapped the arm and Y/N jolted when Happy growled in distaste. When she looked up at him to see what was wrong, he tilted his head down and nuzzled his nose against her unmarked cheek. Chibs quickly injected local anesthetic to multiple spots along the abrasion and waited several minutes before running a gloved finger along the injury. Y/N didn’t flinch in Happy’s arms and Chibs took that as a go ahead.

Chibs prepped his supplies and began to clean the gash of glass. Some shards had remained on the bottle when Maggot broke it and he wanted to make sure nothing was embedded when he began to suture. Y/N was slowly coming back to herself and tried to adjust to where she could see when she felt the tugging on her arm.

Happy easily distracted her with forehead kisses and talking through what was going on. He reassured her that something would be done about the prospect. When he mentioned that church was called, she shuddered and begged him not to leave. Happy consoled her to the best of his ability but nothing seemed to work. Jax overheard and let them know this was going to be the only exception of an old lady attending church. Chibs agreed saying that even though they knew Happy’s vote, he had a right to listen to everyone else’s. Plus Chibs was going to give Y/N’s nurse midwife, Tatum, a call as soon as he was done so he could give her pain medication. Y/N would probably sleep through the entire meeting anyways.

Chibs finished suturing her arm and told Happy to take her up to his dorm and help her shower. Happy agreed after Chibs explained that he should have an answer by then and could give her some medicine and wrap the sutures. Happy stood carefully before lifting Y/N into his arms.

He carried her up the stairs and sat her down on their bed. They had a house that was almost done being renovated and they decided to save money by moving back into the clubhouse for the time being. Happy was glad that they lived here, especially right now. He knew she was comfortable and everything was at his fingertips. He could easily lay them both out new clothes and get her comfort items.

“What do you wanna wear after your shower, babygirl?” Happy questioned, wanting to make sure she was comfortable.

Y/N shrugged but told him no when he went to open her loungewear drawer. She quickly directed him to his drawers with the point of her finger. He chuckled at her and pulled out one of her favorite shirts of his to sleep in. It was a faded grey t-shirt with Reaper Crew written in blue on the chest. He also grabbed her a pair of underwear, fuzzy socks and a pair of her sweatpants before quickly laying out new clothes for himself as well. He then scooped her up again and brought her to their bathroom. Y/N began to tear up again when Happy helped her take her shirt off, well his shirt off.

“No, no, no… don’t cry baby! I’m here now. What’s wrong?” Happy asked, concerned.

Y/N let out a whine, “I got blood on your shirt! It’s ruined!”

“Babygirl”, he couldn’t help but chuckle, “You’re crying over my shirt? I can fix that one easy! Just need the hydrogen peroxide.” He calmed her, wiping away her tears.

“Really? How do you know that?” She looked up at him hopeful and then confused.

He shook his head at her cute little scrunched nose, “I’m the Tacoma Killer babe!”, he elated with his arms spread wide, “I would have a very empty closet if I threw away clothes everytime a little blood got on them.”

Y/N giggled. Sometimes she would forget her husband’s renown and think of him as her reserved, badass. Happy corralled her into the shower and quickly stripped so he could join her. He grabbed new washcloths, before joining his wife in the shower.

The couple used this time to check in and reassure each other. Both clinged to the other, gently washing away the blood and trauma of the day. Y/N rested her head on his chest while he shampooed her hair. She braced her hands on his waist tilting her head so he could rinse away the suds.

Happy grabbed her chin and she could feel his chest rumble against hers as he growled at the marks on her neck and face. He leaned down and rubbed his nose against her cheek. Y/N quickly stood on her tippy toes and brought her lips to his. Happy let out a groan before posessively attacking her lips with his. Y/N could tell he was reclaiming “his territory” and she wasn’t mad in the slightest. She gasped when his teeth tugged on her lip and he happily delved into her.

By the time the couple was done showering, both felt reassured in their bond and were clean of Y/N’s blood. They both quietly changed into clean clothes and Y/N let out a quiet groan when the pain in her arm began to make itself known again. As soon as she was dressed, Happy wrapped her up in her beloved blanket and handed the turtle stuffie to her before scooping her up again.

When they reentered the clubhouse, the mess had been cleaned and it looked like nothing had happened. Gemma walked up to the pair and handed Y/N a plate covered in some of her favorite snacks and told her that her babies had to eat before kissing her head and walking off. The plate was filled with cubed apple, cheddar cheese, some strawberries, dill pickles, a few chunks of pumpkin bread and a handful of chocolate covered pretzels.

Happy then carried her into church and sat down. He pulled his legs across his and braced her back with his right arm before sneaking away some of her chocolate pretzels. She began to grumble at him when Chibs approached the duo. He smiled at the two before passing Happy a bottle of pills and a bottle of water.

“She can take up to two every eight hours. Two will knock her out and one will just make her a little loopy.” He told Happy before turning to Y/N, “You can go ahead and take two now. I need to apply an antibiotic to the stitches and then wrap your arm, then I’ll leave you be darlin.”

“You’re never a bother Chibby.” Y/N stated before swallowing the pills Happy placed in the palm of her hand, “Thank you for taking care of me”. Y/N reached out and gave Chibs’ hand a squeeze before he began to wrap her arm.

“Tatum will come by tomorrow morning for a check up on you and the baby. She assures me that we handled everything correctly and that the medication will have no ill effects on you or the baby. She wanted me to remind you to hydrate and let others take care of you”, he said, giving her a knowing look. “I am staying here tonight, just in case. We will need to rebandage everyday and the stitches should be able to come out in a week in a half or so.” Chibs informed them before pressing a kiss to Y/N’s palm and standing.

He walked out of the room and Y/N leaned further into Happy. She munched on the apple and cheese chunks and sipped on the water when Happy encouraged her to do so. She was about three quarters of the way through her plate when her head began to bob. Happy had to prod at her to keep eating what Gemma plated for her. After her head bobbed for the third time, Jax knocked on the door and stepped through.

He looked at Y/N softly and waited for Happy to nod “Let’s do this brother”

Slowly the rest of the patched club members filtered their way in. Jax took his seat, quickly followed by the rest of the main table. Jax slammed the gavel to start the meeting and smiled apologetically at Y/N when she jolted at the violent noise. Happy pushed the turtle plushie further into her arms and tucked her head into the crook of his neck.

Y/N let out a soft sigh of content and snuggled in, letting the medicine take full effect. She would jolt every once in a while when the guys allowed their anger to take control or raised their voices. The vote to indict Maggot to face Mr. Mayhem was unanimous but his sponsor decided to move charters before the vote. He didn’t feel right invoking Mayhem on his prospect but it was well deserved and the vote needed to be unanimous.

Within the hour, Happy was handing Y/N off to Gemma who was going to watch over her until the men were done. Jax normally would make the prospects stay with the women but he wanted them to see this. All of the crap that had happened was due to a prospect thinking he was the shit. Maggot forgot that the club is family and he certainly forgot the consequences that come with betrayal.

Jax easily approved of Happy killing Maggot in the same ways he hurt Y/N. He began by telling the man that the entire club voted for him to meet Mr. Mayhem and when the prospect had the audacity to try to spew more hate about Y/N Jax couldn’t control his anger. Completing one of the steps of the man’s death by driving his fist through his temple.

Maggot fell to the ground but didn’t stay there long. The prospect had enough wit to scramble backwards when Happy stalked towards him. The Tacoma Killer had a sick smile spreading across his face while stalking towards the piece of shit who hurt his wife. Happy wrapped his hands around Maggot's neck and lifting him into the air.

Maggot choked for breath and Happy laughed. The killer waited until it looked like Maggot was about to die and then released his neck. Maggot struggled to catch his breath and flinched when Opie busted a new beer bottle and handed it over to Happy.

“You thought we’d forget!” Jax yelled motioning for Tig and Half-Sack to pin the squirming Maggot down.

Happy dug the beer bottle into Maggot’s arm and when the disgrace began to wail Tig punched him again. Blood was flowing steadily from the gaping wound running towards the garage drains. Happy then went wild with the sharp glass, rapidly stabbing the man repeatedly until Opie pulled him off and knocked the bottle out of his hand.

Happy’s body shook with adrenaline and a growl worked his way up and out of his chest. The satisfaction of killing the bastard was battling his desire to drag it out. If he wasn’t itching to get back to Y/N and their unborn baby. He shook out the jitters and gladly accepted a work towel from Chibs. His clothes were a mess of blood.

Happy trekked across the lot and into the clubhouse before ripping off his clothes and shoving them into a bag. He hauled ass up the stairs in just his boxers. When he cracked open the door to his room, Gemma was sitting on his side of the bed reading a book and Y/N was curled around her plushie on top of the covers.

Gemma got off the bed, gave Happy a look and smiled when he nodded back. She pecked his cheek before heading out the door. Happy silently maneuvered through the dorm towards the shower. He rinsed his body until the water ran clear and then soaped up. Once out of the shower, he threw on clean boxers before nudging Y/N awake.

She squinted in annoyance until she realized it was him, “C’mon doll. Let’s get you ready for bed.” Happy encouraged, pulling her out of the bed and to the bathroom. He handed her a toothbrush and grabbed his, letting her lean on him sleepily while she slowly brushed her teeth. He motioned at the contact case once their teeth were clean.

Y/N was taking her contacts out when Happy asked “Music tonight?”

She bobbed her head in response, “Can you put on Florence and the Machine?”

He nodded, leaving the bathroom. Happy pulled for the fan, put the record Y/N requested on and pulled back the covers. He heard the toilet flush and looked up to see Y/N stumble back into their room. She toed out of her sweatpants and socks before snuggling under the covers up against Happy.

His arms went around her stomach and Y/N’s hands rested on top of his. He thumbed at the baby bump. It helped remind him that their baby was going to be okay and that Y/N was safe now. Y/N turned her head to nuzzle into Happy’s shoulder and breathed in his deep scent of cinnamon and sweet tobacco. Y/N dozed off to the sound of her murderous man’s heartbeat and “Never Let Me Go” playing in the background.

[fire1033]

ADHD and aliens : Coffee, little funny things, and emotions.

Of course I am in that weird little zone where my meds are starting to wear off, so my brain has 3 topics all at once, but can still spurt them all out, so here you go.

As I walked into the common kitchen on the ship, I noticed a few of my shipmates with their glassy eyed looks and their nice, big, white mugs, each with varying degrees of dark liquid in them. Good of the other crew to accept a lot of people need coffee to wake up, even if it is toxic to 95% of species out there. As i sit down with my cereal, I notice one of the Trax looking at me like he doesn't understand something. "Hey, Adam, I have a question." "Go ahead Horg." "All the other humans on board drink coffee in the morning, but I never see you drinking it. I was wondering why?" "Ah, well for me, it makes me sleepy, not awake. And it doesn't give me the same buzz as it does for them, so it just tastes like bitter drink with no upside." The other humans turn to look at me confused, and that just throws the other crew members off even more. "Wait, makes you sleepy?" "Yeah, you remember my ADHD? Well the reduced chemicals in my brain that makes it act all wired have a similar chemical structure to caffeine, so it acts the same way to calm my brain down, without giving me as much focus as my meds do. This the sleepy." As it Dawn's on everyone, they all nod in understanding and go back to their stuff.

A few hours later I am scrolling through my social media pages when I notice a stupid little kitten trying to steal a picture of a bird. I start laughing so much I end up on the ground in tears. The other humans just start getting annoyed, but one of the alien crew members comes over and watches the video.

"I see why you would think that is cute Adam, but why are you laughing so hard? It seems a bit extreme." As I finally can catch my breath, I try to explain, "I tend to find small things funnier than others. It could be a small comment, or a little picture. I once laughed for 30 minutes straight just because" *giggles* "I was watching a video and, long story short, someone circumvented my expectations of the show by skipping the build up and just ending on the winning blow. Hard to explain, but normally it would get a chuckle at most, I just feel my emotions more intensely than others. Luckily, it is not only the negative emotions, but the positive ones too." "Ah, well I am glad you are enjoying it at least."

A few weeks later, when we were on a station that was known for its, shall we say, less than understanding beliefs, there was a murder. As my crew was the only ones that had humans on it, we were the first interrogated. Knowing that there may be more issues believing my medical chit if I went last, I actually volunteered for the first interview. Alas, they decided I must be covering up something, and so they put me last anyway. Finally, when it came down to my turn, I turned a copy of the chit over to them, and all it said was "Due to medical condition, do not interview or interrogate with empath or mind readers." So of course, because I MUST be hiding something as they have not had any issues with the other humans up till now *cough called it cough* they brought in an empath and a mind reader. I just rolled my eyes, and took a deep breath, knowing how this would end up. "So, we read your chit, but none of the other humans made this request, so it was denied." "Hey, as long as you informed them of what the chit said, and they really want to do this, I don't mind. I just don't want them hurt, and you have refused me my meds for the last 2 days." Both the empath and the mr looked worried, and the empath asked me "What chit? What was your request? HURRY UP! Sorry, I don't know what that was." I turned to him, I feel really bad about what he is about to experience. "I have a neurological condition called ADHD that effects my emotions, making them more intense than for the standard person. If you stay in here, you may get to learn, but they may be more intense than what you are used to." As she started to flicker through the same intense emotions I was feeling, and losing herself in them, the mind reader turned on the cop, already starting to hold his head in pain. "That explains the sudden low grade headache! You effing moron! You wanted me to dive into the head of someone with ADHD after denying them medication? Do you want me to go insane? Are you an idiot?! We have rules for a reason! "As I tried to work through the fog, his sentence finally registers. "You know about ADHD?" "Of course, for your safety and ours we actually have a subsection in our code that deals specifically with humans with mental disorders, how they should be treated, and who can work with them. I am actually on the team for bi polar disorder and depression, but not ADHD, and we can never EVER do this when you are unmedicated. I mean, look at my colleague over there. You seem fairly calm, but your base level emotions are getting to her too much!" "Oh yeah, about that, hold on one sec.... Ok, obviously I can't turn it off, and while not everyone can i can control which emotions i feel to a point, using memories. I just hope my mind doesn't" *thud* the cops head hits the table as the empath slams it down, before looking scared and confused "wander. I have enough trauma to make that happen." "You are free to go for now, I will talk to your captain, ensure your meds are returned, and schedule a proper interview. Thank you for your time" I leave giggling to myself. I tried to warn them, but the cops shocked face was kinda funny. This is why you don't mix a 5 foot nothing empath with someone with ADHD that is unmedicated in a stressful situation. Even if you are a 7'6" foot tall muscle bound cop.

[chiseler]

"¡Viva Puerto Rico libre!”

Lolita Lebrón

Amid all the righteous shrieking and arm-flapping that accompanied the coverage of the January 6th storming of the U.S. Capitol by a mob of yahoos and half-wits, commentator after commentator proclaimed such an assault on the sanctity of The People’s House was unprecedented, at least since the torching of the Capitol building during the War of 1812. If your limiting the parameters to “A mob of yahoos and half-wits spurred on by clumsy bald-faced lies and ridiculous conspiracy theories stormed the Capitol building, convinced they’d be able to overturn the results of a presidential election by making a terrible mess,” then yes, sure, I can’t think of a comparable example in our history. If, however, these commentators are speaking in more general terms about violent, politically-motivated attacks inside the American International Pictures logo, then I’m afraid, yet again, a brief history lesson is in order. Let’s work our way backwards from January 6th.

In a strange and eerie precedent, if on a smaller scale, on the afternoon of July 24th, 1998, Russell E. Weston Jr. stormed through the Capitol’s document door, an entrance generally reserved for elected officials and their staffs. According to interviews after the fact, Weston was a paranoid schizophrenic off his meds who was convinced America was about to be besieged both by a strange new disease and an army of cannibals, and wanted our nation’s leaders to know about it.

Jacob Chestnut, Jr.

When Weston zipped through the metal detector just inside the entrance, the .38 Smith & Wesson revolver he was carrying set off the alarm. After Capitol police officer Jacob Chestnut, Jr. asked him to kindly back up and go through the machine again, Westin drew his revolver and shot Chestnut in the head, killing him. He then took off down the hall, ducking into what turned out to be a suite of offices occupied by senior Republican congressmen. At that particular moment, it was also occupied by plainclothes special agent John Gibson, who’d drawn security detail that day. Weston promptly shot Gibson as well, but before he died, Gibson returned fire, shooting Weston four times. Weston survived, and is presently still being held in an institute for the criminally insane.

Fifteen years earlier, on November 7th, 1983, members of a third-rate radical group calling themselves The Armed Resistance Unit (ARU) planted a bomb on the second floor of the Senate Wing. When it went off around midnight, no one was hurt, but the blast did cause an estimated $250,000 in damage. A communique released by the ARU said the bombing was in response to American military action in Grenada and Lebanon. Thirteen years before that, on March 1st, 1971, The Weathermen, in what would soon be recognized as their standard m.o., planted a bomb in one of the Capitol’s many bathrooms. Again it was timed to go off in the middle of the night. No one was hurt, but the next day a few people were inconvenienced. In taking credit for the bombing, The Weathermen claimed it was in response to the continued U.S. bombing of Laos. Or maybe just Laotian bathrooms—amid all the hippie lingo and Marxist doggerel, it was hard to tell.

But those were all small potatoes, tepid attacks waged by crazy people driven by delusional fantasies and supposed revolutionary groups who had no clear idea what a real revolution entailed. But exactly seventeen years before the Weathermen, in essence, flushed an M-80 down a congressional toilet and called it a mighty blow against U.S. imperialism, it was a different story, which may explain why it’s so forgotten today.

In order to fully understand the events of March 1st, 1954, we need to step back a ways, to the end of the Spanish-American War.

As part of the 1898 Treaty of Paris, which brought the war to its end, Spain handed control of Puerto Rico over to the U.S.. There was just one problem with this. A year earlier, in the 1897 Carta de Autonomía, Spain had already granted Puerto Rico independence from colonial rule, meaning come the end of their scuffle with the States, Spain was no longer in any position to be handing Puerto Rico over to anyone.

Well, everyone seemed to overlook this little technicality, and Puerto Rico became an American commonwealth.

In 1950, Congress passed the Puerto Rico Federal Relations Act, which declared the U.S. would continue to provide security for Puerto Rico and handle any international treaties that might involve them.  At the same time, the people of Puerto Rico would be free to elect their own government, so long as the U.S. approved of their choices. While Puerto Ricans would be considered U.S. citizens, they would not be allowed to vote for president, nor would they have any representatives in Congress.

This did not sit especially well with the Puerto Rican Nationalist Party, which had been pushing for Puerto Rican sovereignty since its formation in 1922.

The ruling (and U.S.-backed) People’s Democratic Party, however, gave the passage of the Congressional act a big thumb’s up. In response, the Nationalists, still calling for the recognition of the 1897 Carta de Autonomía, launched a sloppy and bloody revolt in cities across Puerto Rico. The uprising was quickly squashed with a little help from the PDP’s friends to the North, who provided both manpower and military hardware.

Two Puerto Rican nationals living in New York at the time, Griselio Torresola and Oscar Collazo, had a better idea. Down in Washington, with the White House undergoing renovations, Harry Truman had taken up temporary residence in Blair House, the presidential guest house. He was a sitting duck, they figured. Freedom-loving people around the world may have been able to ignore a little three-day skirmish in their homeland, but they wouldn’t be able to ignore the assassination of a U.S. president.

The pair armed themselves and took a train down to Washington. Once they arrived at Blair House, apparently convinced they’d simply be able to kick in the front door and shoot Truman, Torresola and Collazo were surprised to find the place guarded by dozens of secret service agents, city cops, and White House security officers. In the brief gun battle that ensued, Torresola was killed, as was one of the cops. Collazo was taken into custody and later sentenced to death. Two years later in 1952, Truman commuted his sentence to life in prison.

Also in 1952, gleaning that the natives were getting restless, Truman decided it might be wise to appease them by offering a simple vote on the matter. So later that year, the people of Puerto Rico, given the chance to put a free and open democracy into action, went to the polls, where they were freely and openly allowed to choose between the kind of limited autonomy they presently experienced, or complete U.S. control. The fact that “independence” was not among the choices offered was lost on nobody, especially the Nationalists, who for the most part skipped the vote. Those who did vote overwhelmingly chose to stick with limited autonomy.

A radical wing of the Nationalist Party, enraged by the scam of a so-called referendum, began hatching a plan to call attention to the struggles of the Puerto Rican independence movement.

Initially, the four-person team—Lolita Lebrón, Andrés Figueroa Cordero, Rafael Cancel Miranda and Irvin Flores Rodríguez—decided to launch a series of violent attacks around Washington, coinciding with the opening of the Interamerican Conference in Caracas on March first, 1954. As the date approached, however, Lolita Lebrón, self-appointed leader of the group, decided splitting up to try and hit several targets at once around Washington was maybe not the wisest move. They’d get better results if they concentrated their efforts on a single target—namely the U.S. Congress.  

So on the morning of March 1st, like Torresola and Collazo before them, Lebrón met the other three at Grand Central Station. Armed with semiautomatic pistols, they boarded a train for Washington. Upon arriving, they marched straight to the Capitol building and found themselves seats at the back of one of the visitors galleries overlooking the House floor.

Down on the floor, Congress was debating whether or not to continue allowing Mexican immigrants to work as migrant laborers on American soil. Upon Lebrón’s signal, a cry of "¡Viva Puerto Rico libre!,” the four stood, unfurled a Puerto Rican flag, pulled their guns and began firing.

After she was arrested, Lebrón insisted she’d only fired hers at the ceiling, saying, "I did not come to kill anyone, I came to die for Puerto Rico.” The other three, however, apparently hadn’t been paying attention during the planning sessions, and began shooting at Congress members. Cordero’s gun jammed, but Miranda more than picked up the slack, firing an estimated 30 rounds into the panicking Congressmen below. Three Democrats and two Republicans were struck, one seriously, but all five survived. All four Nationalists were arrested at the scene.

In June, after a 12-day trial in federal court on attempted murder and weapons charges, the four were found guilty, though Lebrón was found guilty of the lesser charge of assault with a deadly weapon. Although the prosecution had been pushing for the death penalty given the crime involved an attack on the very heart of American democracy, the judge instead handed down consecutive prison terms, fifty years for Lebrón and seventy-five years each for the other three.

In October, they were brought back to court to face further federal conspiracy charges. They were found guilty once again, and the judge tacked another six years onto their sentences. The four were then split up and sent to four different federal prisons.

Two decades after the attack on Congress, the next generation of radical Puerto Rican nationals calling themselves FALN, still fighting for Puerto Rican sovereignty, began a bombing campaign across the U.S.. It’s estimated they detonated over 130 bombs in New York, Chicago, San Francisco and other major cities, most notably the 1975 lunch time bombing of the historic Fraunces Tavern in the Financial District, which killed four Wall Street types.

In 1978, as the bloody, decade-long FALN bombing campaign rolled on, Figueroa Cordero was released from prison after serving 23 years of his 81-year sentence. The next year, then-President Jimmy Carter commuted the sentences of the other three. Some say it was part of a prisoner exchange deal to secure the release of several CIA agents imprisoned in Cuba, while others believe it may have been a direct response to the FALN, who, among other things, had been demanding the release of their revolutionary forbears.

Today, the Puerto Rican Nationalist attack on Congress and the FALN’s deadly decade-long bombing spree remain mostly forgotten. Meanwhile the bumbling rich-kid antics of The Weathermen and the merely bubbling antics of the Symbionese Liberation Army remain firmly entrenched in the American consciousness. The reasons for this are fairly simple and merely part of a long pattern. Groups like The Weathermen and the SLA may not have had any clear plans, may not have been driven by any personal injustices, and may not have accomplished much save for the kidnapping of one rich white girl, but they had great p.r.. They were (mostly) white, they were photogenic, and they didn’t really bother anyone. The four Puerto Rican Nationalists, the FALN and other forgotten groups like the Black Liberation Army were motivated by personal injustices. Their anger was justified, they did some real damage, and that made them a dangerous threat to those in power. They were also, y’know, a bunch of dirty Hispanics and Blacks, so better to just bury the issue. Who cares?

by Jim Knipfel

[euphoriaanddiscomfort]

The Elephant In the Room

Luna was pacing back and forth in her room ( well actually it was both her father’s room). Talking to the voices in her head again, She’s been feeling quite agitated lately and this whole year she still hasn’t gotten over what happened.

She hates me. No she doesn’t, yes she does, you’re assuming, no I’m not! I asked her at the dinner table loud and clear if she can please pass me the plate of pancakes that was right Infront of her, then she yells,

“B****! Go f*** yourself ! “ , and throws a knife at me. Luckily you fell backwards on that chair, I had to, it was gonna come straight to my eye! She does work at a circus. Ugh.

She has to talk to Sol, she has to at least try to make things right between her and her sister. So, she barges In her room with no warning.

“Sol we need to talk, please talk to me “

“Get out of MY room freak! I have nothing to say to you”

“No! not until we settle this once and for all”

“There is nothing to settle Im going through with it and you’re not going to stop me”

“What?! I don’t care about that “

“I hate you.”

“Don’t say that, I know it isn’t true “

“Yes it is.”

“Sis, I know when you’re lying; your left eye is twitching”

“No it isn’t”

“Mhm”

Silence took over only for 10 seconds or, so... till one of them was ready to break it.

“I’m tired Luna, I don’t want to discuss this right now...please...just let it go”

“We never speak of it, tonight is the first time we’re going to actually talk to one another since the accident.”

“Yeah! The accident YOU caused.”

“Yeah! then you went to extreme measures in making it even worse for yourself! I won’t just let it go! We can’t just pretend-“

“Keep your voice down or you’ll wake up our dads. The last thing I want right now is for them to hear us and assume we probably murdered someone, barge in here, so they can force us to spill the tea”

“Pfft speaking of murder I should’ve killed him when I found out”

“You keep your hands to yourself, besides...you weren’t going to do anything”

“Don’t protect him after what he has done to you ?! Jesus Christ Sol you’re homeschooled now because of him. Again...it does take two dumbasses to make a retard.”

“ shut up Luna they’ll Hear you talk like that, dammit they’re going to know what’s up!”

“I’ll keep it down IF...we talk about it “

“Ok fine whatever just as long as you keep your voice down.”

“Thank you.” God you bitches are annoying, shut up Freddy! Damn I should’ve taken my meds, anyways...”soooo....when are you getting it done hun? “

“Wow...I haven’t heard that in an while. August 12”

“Cool”

“Yeah”

The girls were mute for only a minute now and Neither of them will admit it, but they certainly did miss each other’s bond. Luna found her voice to Sol again.

“It should’ve never happened honestly”

“Don’t worry because when I kill her everything will go back to the way they were babe.”

“Everything? Like us ?”

“We’ll get you the help you need again”

“That’s not what I- whatever. I don’t understand how you could-“

“It wasn’t my intention” Sol cut Luna off straight away.

“You’re a whore”

“It’s all your fault this even happened in the first place Luna “

“Exactly how is this my fault ?”

“If you weren’t so fucking stupid about us we wouldn’t be in this mess right now”

“I told you the truth-“

“A sinning truth-“

“Quit cutting me off! I told you the truth and you went on a Goddamn rampage; which, I don’t know why considering the fact it was there from the gecko.”

“Son of a B****you don’t think I Know that! You still should’nt have never said anything anyways.”

My God, both of ya must feel like a bunch of dumbasses I’m even embarrassed being in your head right now...I should go bother your father, you can tell me when the coast is clear.

“Shut it Rectum !”

“I didn’t say anything el- oh wait...Jesus Christ Luna! You didn’t take your meds did you.” It was a rhetorical question, this wasn’t the first time Luna decided to skip her medication.

“Sol stop changing the subject I got it under control.”

“Like hell you do,this is your health”

“F*** my health this is about fixing this”

“The scars will always remain in our skins forever.”

“Not if we use coconut oil over it, that shit got healing powers”

“Oh Lord don’t joke about this now you know what I mean”

“Sol I feel guilty”

“You should be, this is illegal”

“I’ll never stop however”

“And why is that “

“Because you’ll never stop too. It was never over.”

“What?”

“I know everything now “

“Huh?”

“I read”

“What have you been reading?”

“You know”

“Oh!”

“Yeah”

“I should’ve known it was you who took my journal. You can keep it though.”

“ I planned to anyways sis hahaha”

“Our actions caused our friendship to dissolve, and also our sisterhood”

“Still not to late to fix them...will you take my hand?”

Sol takes her sister’s hand.

“I love you”

“Just Kiss me”

This was a vignette of two sisters in a forbidden relationship, but for the rest who might be reading this...you as the reader can try and figure out as to what elephant in the room the two lovers were talking about. As you do that...go along as you go and makeup stories you can think of that ruined their relationship.

[thewritenerd]

Victor and Adam: NaNoWriMo Day 29

Adam kept picking at his cast not wanting to have this conversation. He’d only brought it up because Chelsea wouldn’t stop pestering him. In fact he didn’t want to talk about anything. ‘Well if Adam doesn’t want help then this friends just going to have to wait.’ Oscar said in a matter of fact tone. Adam glared at him in such a way he visibly scooted away from him. ‘Yeah thanks for the obvious. Clearly I hadn’t thought of that.’ Adam snapped. ‘Hey man we’re just trying to help.’ Nate argued clearly desperate to keep the peace. Adam wanted to argue but he couldn’t pick a fight with Nate. Anyway it was exhausting being angry and the pain meds he was taking made it hard to really keep a hold of his thoughts. Instead he just dropped his head and stared at the floor. The others, maybe not wanting to set him off again or maybe realising he needed space, ignored him and talked to each other. Though he still sat near them in his lessons he didn’t talk to any of them. Come lunch instead of heading to the cafeteria with Nate he went to the library to do the catch up work his teachers had given him. Even in IT he wouldn’t speak to Chelsea instead choosing to read his comic under the desk. He’d already read it once but he had wanted to read it again. Dr Ramaker had bought it because the main character was an inventor like Adam. But there were other things he found himself relating to. The main character was frequently referred to as Thing by the natives of the planet she’d become trapped on. He supposed that wasn’t too different to be referred to as monster. When the school day ended he made a beeline for the door still ignoring his friends. As soon as he’d closed the car door behind him Igor spoke. ‘What happened?’ ‘Nothing.’ ‘If that’s your neutral face I’d hate to see your angry face.’ Adam scowled at him but said nothing. 

‘So are you going to tell me or sulk?’ Adam’s lips remained firmly shut. Igor sighed. ‘Sulking it is then.’ Once they’d gotten home it took all Adam’s restraint not to storm inside and up the stairs. ‘Oh someone looks like they’ve heard tomorrow’s another Monday.’ Justine teased. As she made her way down the hall. Adam spun round and glowered at her. As he turned to start heading up the stairs when he saw Victor making his way down. ‘I suppose you’ve got some comment to make.’ Adam snapped. Victor stopped in his tracks. ‘What?’ ‘I think someone needs a nap.’ Igor replied. ‘If you’re going to act like a toddler you can get treated like one.’ He added when Adam shot him a look. Victor nodded. ‘Yes if you want to act stroppy you can do it in your room. And that wasn’t a suggestion.’ ‘Whatever.’ Adam snapped. ‘I was heading there anyway.’ ‘Well in that case you can go to bed. Clearly you’re not getting enough sleep.’ Adam stormed up the stairs all the way to his room. Once he’d closed the door he stood leaning against it. He didn’t know why he was so angry which made everything worse. Sure he was upset about having to leave his invention for Dr Ramaker for so long, why was it every time he tried to do something nice for someone he ended up messing something up. His frustrating coming to a boiling point he let out a scream and slammed his fist into the wall. At first he didn’t fully register what he’d done. Then slowly as he heard the sound of plaster falling onto the wooden floor it began to dawn on him. Slowly he turned to see he’d punched a hole in his wall. For a moment he stood frozen in place not fully aware of the footsteps coming up the stairs. ‘For goodness sake what has gotten into you?’ Victor snapped as he stepped inside. ‘I can hear your yelling all the way from down…’ he stopped when he saw the plaster on the floor. ‘Adam,’ if his voice had sounded angry before it was livid now. ‘I…’ Adam began not sure what he should say. ‘Right. Well I was going to say you could come down for tea after you’ve had some rest but if this is how you’re going to be you can forget it. Now you’re cleaning your teeth and going straight to bed. And I’m going to watch so I can be absolutely sure you’ve done it.’ Angry and humiliated Adam let himself be, albeit awkwardly, frog marched down the stairs to the bathroom. Victor stood in the doorway watching before marching him back up the stairs. He agreed to give Adam some privacy while he got changed. ‘Though it’s nothing I haven’t seen before.’ He’d argued. Before turning round to watch to see if Adam would get into bed. He did making sure he kept his back to Victor as he did so. For a moment he heard nothing as Victor stood watching him, then there was the sound of the door closing followed by footsteps heading away from the door. For a moment Adam didn’t move, until he could be sure he was far enough away. Then slowly he climbed out of bed and snuck over to his school bag. He reached in and pulled out his lunchbox, relieved he’d chosen today of all days to skip lunch. The clicking sound the clasps made seemed abnormally loud and he found himself freezing after opening each one. Eventually he managed to prise the lid open and began to eat. Thankfully Igor insisted all his food should be made fresh so there was no crinkly wrapping paper to deal with. Once he’d eaten he slipped the box back into his bag and pulled out the comic and began to read it for the third time.

Victor

After coming back downstairs Victor went looking for Igor so he could explain the situation. He found him cleaning the office.   ‘Don’t you think that was a little harsh sir?’ Igor had asked after he’d done talking. Victor shook his head. ‘Adam can’t afford to loose his temper like that. Anyway he’s been like this for days.’ ‘Then maybe you should talk to him. Ask why he’s so upset.’ Victor sighed. ‘Maybe.’ For a moment the two men just stood there neither sure what to say next. ‘What am I doing?’ Victor asked Igor. ‘I mean I never planned on being a parent. Not ever.’ He lowered himself into his chair and ran his hand through his hair. ‘That boy scares me Igor. Not because I think he’s a bad kid it’s clear he isn’t. But one little slip up and people get badly hurt. Doesn’t matter whether he meant to or not that’s just how it goes. Yet at the same time I’m scared for him.’ He leaned back to stare at the ceiling and sighed. ‘The first night he stayed here I started planning ways to kill him. Even wrote some down in my notebooks. All I could think was I wanted that thing out of my life. In truth I feared for my life and I hated him. Hated him with my very soul. So why couldn’t I do it?’ ‘Are you upset you didn’t kill the boy?’ Igor asked. Victor shook his head. ‘No quite the opposite.’ ‘Then why worry about why you couldn’t. It’s a rather foolish thing to get upset about.’ Victor had to agree. ‘You know I’ve just realised something. When he moved here he was spending his days learning to talk, and read and write and sneaking food for the animals that live round the ruins. Meanwhile I was plotting his murder. And yet I still think of him as the monster.’ ‘Is that all you think of him as?’ ‘No. I think of him as Adam too.’

***

The next day at breakfast Victor decided to ask Adam about his bad mood. ‘I’m sorry if I seemed a little harsh last night, he began. ‘But you have to understand it is never okay to break things no matter how mad you get.’ Adam nodded but didn’t lookup from his bowl. ‘Do you want to tell me what’s upsetting you?’ Adam shrugged. ‘Is that a I don’t know if I want to tell you shrug, or a I don’t know what’s upsetting me shrug?’ ‘Yes.’ Victor sighed. ‘Adam you remember what you said about wanting me to act more like your dad? Well part of that means talking to you when you’re upset and helping you with your problems. But I can’t parent a brick wall.’ Adam seemed to be mulling it over for a moment before standing up. ‘I need to get to school.’ He said as he walked out. ‘Well that went well.’ Justine commented. Victor shot her a look. After only a couple more bites of his breakfast he stood up and left the dinning room. He made his way to his office, where he made sure to shut the door firmly behind him before pulling his phone out of his pocket. Not quite sure what he was doing or why he opened his contacts and pressed the call button. There was an answer after a couple of rings. ‘Victor?’ his father’s voice came through the speaker. ‘Hello father. I just wanted to ask you something. It’s uh. Well it’s about Adam.’ ‘Okay. I’m not sure how much help I’m going to be in that sense but I’ll try.’ Victor sighed and started pacing up and down. ‘Well it’s not so much about him specifically as about us.’ There was no response from Alphonse but Victor knew even over the phone he was patiently waiting for him to get his words together. ‘Adam’s been upset about something for the last week. I’ve tried leaving him alone. And I’ve tried asking him. Nothings worked.’ ‘Have you tried being there for him?’ ‘I just said I tried asking him.’ ‘No. That’s not what I meant. Not everyone likes being asked to open up out right. They may feel trapped or confrontational especially if they are having a bad time. You can be a bit like that yourself. So do you know what I did when you were a teenager and going into a sulk?’ ‘No what?’ ‘I helped you with your experiments. And once you seemed to be in a better mood I’d ask if there was anything you’d want to talk about. And if that doesn’t work you can always try what I did for Justine.’ ‘Which was?’ ‘Give her an axe and a pile of wood and run far far away.’ ‘Is that how she lost her toe?’ ‘Please don’t tell your mother.’ ‘Yeah don’t worry about that. Well I think I’ll leave the axe idea for another time. Preferably after Igor has retired.’ He heard his father laugh then his voice went serious again. ‘Oh and Victor the important thing about the distraction trick is in order for it to work you have to engage in his interests even when he’s in a good mood. Otherwise he’ll start to get suspicious.’ Victor thanked his father before hanging up the phone.

***

After Adam had gotten home from school Victor waited for another half an hour before heading upstairs to the tower. Adam was sat at his desk plucking at the rubber band of one of his inventions. ‘If you keep doing that it’s going to break,’ Victor warned. Startled by the noise Adam jumped yanking on the band and causing it to snap. ‘Fuck.’ Adam hissed. ‘Language.’ He felt rather than saw Adam rolling his eyes before turning around to face him. ‘What do you want?’ Victor took a step forward. ‘What does that do?’ he asked pointing to the pile of parts on the table. ‘It doesn’t do anything. I haven’t started yet.’ Adam replied picking up a metal spring and eyeing it up. Victor wasn’t sure what he was looking for but clearly something about it was wrong as he set it back down and picked up another.

[zephyroh]

Trimberly Week - Day 1 // Coffee Shop - Read on AO3

‘I think I’m witnessing this girl having a mental breakdown.’

Trini leaned against the counter as she hit ‘send’, then resumed to covertly watch Kim at her table. She had mentioned the girl to Zack briefly after her previous shift. He obviously teased her for having a crush on her — ‘if you had seen her, you’d get it’, she had simply answered, not in the least embarrassed — but she felt the need to share the sight in front of her with him.

Panic! At The Coffee Shop

Trini’s head popped up as she heard the front door of the shop open loudly. She sighed as she put her costumer face on. She had twenty minutes left off her shift and all she wanted was some peace and quiet before going back home.

The coffee shop, located on the campus, was almost empty at this hour. Students usually favored the library rather the shop in the evenings. Except, apparently, for the girl who had just came in, and seemed to be in quite a rush.

She had her head down, phone in hand, and headed straight for the counter without even looking up.

“Hi, I need coffee!”, she announced with a voice that Trini would only describe as “panicked”.

“Yup, that’s usually why people come here.”, Trini simply replied with a bored voice. That made the girl finally look up from her phone, and Trini thanked her habit of always maintaining a perfect composure as well as  her trained poker face because damn she was gorgeous. She was slightly out of breath, short-ish black hair all over the place and soft eyes, despite the panicked look on her face.

She just looked straight at Trini, agape, blinking a few times but without saying a word for a while, before snapping out of it and blurting out, a bit flustered:

“Yeah, right- umm sorry. A large latte, with sugar and soy milk, please. Name’s Kim.”

The barista felt an amused smile growing on her lips at the mess of a girl in front of her. While she was typing the order, and starting to prepare it, she heard the girl’s phone ringing. She couldn’t help but let out a chuckle when she heard “Go! Go! Power Rangers!” blasting out of the device.  

“Jason!”, she practically shouted, picking up the call. “Where the fuck are you? This is an emergency! Like Defcon 5 emergency!”.

As she was stirring up the coffee while pouring the warm milk in it, Trini frowned at the analogy. She was pretty sure that girl had no idea what she was talking about. Her doubts were rapidly confirmed when the girl responded to what her interlocutor was saying – probably the exact same thing Trini was thinking.

“I don’t care about this Defcon shit, it doesn’t even make sense! Bring your ass over here!”. She hung up the phone dramatically, turning to Trini with a desperate sigh. The small girl had to hold back another laugh because she thought her behavior was adorable, but it was probably not the moment to mess with her.

The girl thanked her – and Trini’s stomach was a little too happy at the smile she gave her – before walking to a table, sitting down. And then she proceeded to smash her forehead against the table with a loud whine.

__________________

Kim’s leg was bouncing up and down relentlessly as she was staring at her phone. How long did it take to cross the campus on a fucking bike? She took a long sip of her drink and relished at the sweet taste. She shot a discrete look at the cute barista — she had almost drooled when she had looked up from her phone to order her coffee, and was dead embarrassed at the way she had stopped functioning for a second. She hoped the barista hadn’t noticed, but wasn’t too confident about that

However, losing her means in front of a cute girl was the least of her problems right now. She needed Jason like, yesterday. On cue, the doorbell rang, announcing someone entering the shop. For the third time in ten minutes, Kim’s abruptly turned around on her seat to see who it was. She already had three false hope, and was starting to lose it — well, more than she already had.

Her body flooded with relief at the sight of her best friend’s familiar combo of red jacket and blond hair. As he was approaching, she shot up from her seat and launched herself into his arms, making him almost trip. Taking a step back to balance the weight, Jason laughed into her hair.

“Well, someone’s happy to see me!”

They parted and he took the seat in front of her. Judging by the state of panic of his friend, he asked worriedly. “So, what’s going on Kim? You’re freaking me out a little. Well, more than usual.”

“Okay so, I’m in trouble.”, she answered with a trembling voice. “Like huge trouble. As in more that the time I stole my dad’s car to go to the beach party and crashed it into a street light while drunk. Or more than the time I made you climb up the neighbor’s wall and you broke your leg. Or more than the time we set the couch on fire.”

“The time you set the couch on fire. I vividly remember telling you playing with that many candles was a bad idea. Like all of your ideas actually”, he corrected with a stern tone. Kim merely rolled her eyes, sweeping the comment with a wave of hand. “If you’ve killed someone, I am not taking Billy’s van to help you bury the body, he’d freak if there was blood on it.”, he added in a mocking tone, hoping to calm her down. It didn’t work.

“My parents want to visit next week”, she deadpanned with a grave tone.

Jason raised one eyebrow, expectantly. “… And? It’s not that terrible.”

“Remember when I told you my parents weren’t happy about my choice in college?” Jason nodded, waiting for the follow up. “I actually didn’t tell them I registered here.”

Jason’s eyes widened and his jaw dropped. He just stared at her, flabbergasted, as she avoided his gaze.

“You— you didn’t tell them you dropped out of med school?”, he whispered strongly, as if Kim’s parents would hear them if he spoke too loudly.

“No, I did not! Why are we whispering?”, she answered in the same tone.

Jason slapped his right palm against his forehead, at loss for words. He knew Kimberly was reckless and often acted without thinking about consequences, but this one took the fucking cake. He rubbed his eyes roughly, and his heart melted at the sight when he re-opened it. Kim looked so desperate, and he knew about her difficult relationship with her parents, so he could understand why she wouldn’t want tell them.

He reached to grab her hands in his own, gently rubbing them with his thumbs to reassure her.

“You’re gonna be alright, okay?”

Kim shot him a small, thankful smile. She knew she could always count on him to help her through awful situations — situations she’d often put herself in.

__________________

Trini rubbed firmly the back of her neck and her shoulders as she looked at the clock. Forty minutes left. Her feet were hurting, and she was having murderous urges after the last customer had complained about his drink for five whole minutes because it wasn’t lukewarm enough. She hated people. All of them. She couldn’t wait to strip out of her uniform and go slouch on Zack’s bed to watch Netflix.

Her heart sank when she heard the doorbell ring and the door open, cursing internally whoever just came in… just to lighten up — always internally of course — when she saw the girl from the other day step in. She still had her leather jacket on, and this time was wearing what Trini made out to be a tank top that let her see the pink of her bra-stripes. She didn’t have to force a smile when the girl reached the counter.

She looked less panicked that the day before, but not very collected either. She was nervously tapping the wooden counter with maroon painted nails as she ordered with a strained voice.

“Hi! A large latte with sugar and soy milk please.”

“Are you sure?” Trini couldn’t stop the words from coming out of her mouth.

“Pardon?”, the girl asked with a confused look, tilting her head — and Trini couldn’t help but notice again how cute she looked.

“No offence, but you look like your heart is about to give out”, the barista explained.

“Yeah, exactly, that’s why I need my coffee.” Trini frowned at the unexpected answered, and the girl continued as to answer the unasked question. “Coffee helps me calm down.”

“Yeaaaah, I’m not sure that’s how it works, physiologically speaking.”

“Well, it works, psychologically speaking, and that’s good enough for me,” she fired back with a wink, and Trini happily gave up the argument.

“For… Kim, right?” Trini congratulated herself when she saw the girl’s pleased – and maybe even flustered – smile.

“Attentive, I like it… Trini.” Trini didn’t know if it was the playful tone, the way Kim leaned on the counter or the smirk on her lips, but she lost her composure for a second and her heart skipped a beat. Thankfully, the girl must have mistaken her little gay panic for confusion because she gestured Trini’s apron. “You have a name tag.”

A minute later, Kim sat at the same table as before, and Trini noticed she was bouncing her leg again. ‘That poor girl must have a stressful life’, she thought. She remembered wondering what she and the blond boy — probably her boyfriend from the way she jumped in his arms, Trini had noted with disappointment — were talking about the last time, because from afar it looked pretty animated.

Trini caught herself staring at Kim for the rest of her shift.

__________________

Kim yawned loudly, covering her mouth with her hand as she tried to smother the shiver running down her spine. She was striding through campus, heading toward what was starting to become her lair. Good wi-fi connection, unlimited amount of food and coffee, and a cute barista to look at, who would ask for more?

She usually went after her last class in the early evening, but this morning she was too tired to function without a little help. Her stress and the thought of seeing her parents soon had kept her up all night; she needed caffeine to get through the day, to stay awake more than to calm her down this time.

She barely tried to hide her smile as she noticed that Trini was behind the counter. Nor did she try to contain her flirty attitude when she ordered her usual drink and a muffin. She also intentionally brushed her fingers against Trini’s when the small girl handed her the receipt. She was almost proud of herself at her successful move when she tripped on her feet as she was turning away, dropping her muffin and almost spilling her drink all over the floor, letting out a loud “Fuck!”.

She sighed out of desperation — she was so done with herself — as she bended over to pick up her muffin, and her mortification only grew stronger when she heard Trini’s light laugh behind her.

She turned and shot her a fake mad look. “Shut up! Not even one word.”, she ordered but couldn’t hold back the embarrassed laugh in her throat.

Trini playfully mimicked zipping her lips before winking, and Kim almost tripped again before settling down at her usual table.

However, her mood considerably darkened when she felt her phone vibrate, the screen reading a text from her mother. “We’ll be here in a couple of days, not sure when yet. Eager to see you. Love, Mom.”

The very same feeling of dread that had kept her up all night crept back into her bones. She dropped her head in her arms with a whine. She was starting to make it a habit of it.

She was joined a few minutes later by Jason, and his ever so calm composure, the opposite of Kim at that moment. He offered her a sympathetic smile when he saw her frantic state.

“Be careful, or you’re gonna get white hair sooner than you should.”, he joked, sitting down to face her. She ignored the comment, reaching to take a sip of her drink. When she put down the cup, she had the most serious look on her face, which was rapidly contradicted by her following words:

“So I thought about my problem, and I’ve come up with the only possible outcome that’ll get me out of this mess.” She paused for dramatic effect, and Jason raised an unimpressed eyebrow, half-convinced by what was going to come next. He knew her too well. “I’m gonna fake my death and move to Canada.”, she finally revealed.

Jason threw his head back, letting out an exasperated groan. He rubbed his forehead, taking a deep breath, then looked back at Kim with a pleading look.

“Kim, when are you gonna learn to take responsibility for your actions. You can’t run away from all your problems.”

“Yes, I can, Mom!”, she mocked. “I can sell the apartment, take the car and never return.”

“You wouldn’t even know how to fake your death!”, he argued before realizing he should not be encouraging this discussion.

“Errrr, yes I would. I’ve watched ‘Gone Girl’ like three time, I’m pretty sure I have the basis covered,” she countered proudly. Jason just threw his arms in the air, at loss for words.

“It’s too early for this, I need coffee. Want a refill?”, he asked as she nodded vigorously.

He returned a few minutes later, with a smirk on his lips and a question in his eyes.

“Kim…,” he teased, “How come the barista knows your name and your coffee order? How many times have you even been here?”

All he got in response was a bashful smile.

__________________

‘I think I’m witnessing this girl having a mental breakdown.’

Trini leaned against the counter as she hit ‘send’, then resumed to covertly watch Kim at her table. She had mentioned the girl to Zack briefly after her previous shift. He obviously teased her for having a crush on her — ‘if you had seen her, you’d get it’, she had simply answered, not in the least embarrassed — but she felt the need to share the sight in front of her with him.

It was eight in the morning — her only morning shift that week since she’d always ask her manager to not put her down for openings — she had not been in a good mood. Trini was not a morning person, and her tolerance for customers decreased exponentially the earlier she had to get up. Except this day, because this morning the beautiful Kim had walked into the shop again, and Trini was not about to complain. Trini was pretty sure the girl had flirted with her, before tripping on her own feet, and Trini had decided she could definitely just watch this girl for an entire day and she’d never be bored.

As if on cue, she witnessed Kim burying her head in her crossed arms with a loud whine — and it was definitely not the first time Trini had heard her make that sound.

‘You should probably not be turned on by that, Crazy Girl :p’ She rolled her eyes at her best friend’s answer.

Trini looked up again to see Kim stretching — her tank top slightly rising to uncover a tanned skin, allowing Trini to catch a glimpse of toned abs —, her hands combing through her hair. Trini’s breath stopped for a second, and she had never been so glad to have a morning shift.

Her mood however deteriorated when the door opened to let the blond boy walk in. She turned and went into the back store to get some coffee beans to grind, and mostly avoid watching the two together. It wasn’t that she was jealous per say, she barely knew Kim. But she had to admit it was a little frustrating to have her flirt with Trini, just to run into her boyfriend’s arms the next minute.

When she got back, he was standing at the counter, waiting patiently with a polite smile. Trini cursed him in her head. She barely nodded her head to acknowledge him, not even bothering to greet him. He didn’t seem to mind or notice.

“I’ll take an espresso, for Jason, and my friend over there would like a refill of-”, he started but Trini mechanically interrupted him.

“Large latte with sugar and soy milk for Kim, got it.”

Jason merely raised his eyebrows in surprise. Then a wide amused grin grew on his lips and he looked delighted for reasons Trini did not understand.

They left a few moments after, all playful and teasing, knocking each other shoulder and Trini felt a pang of jealousy — she had to admit it — when the Jason guy ruffled Kim’s hair as she was giving him a beaming grin.

The rest of the day passed by painfully slowly. She had a long lunch break during which her manager Rita called her. She was sick and couldn’t work today, and they were still understaffed so Trini had to pick up her shift, meaning she was going to have to close the shop. A whole day of work at Krispy Kreme, how wonderful… At least she’d be payed extra. Near the end of the day, she was texting Zack, raging over Blond Perfect Jason and asking if he still had weed for the night when the door opened.

Trini’s secret prayers were answered when she caught sight of Kim’s leather jacket and purple bra-stripes. And when Kim shot her a soft smile, Trini forgot all about Jason. The barista noticed that the girl looked more tired than desperate this time, and Trini couldn’t decide which was better. She didn’t even wait for Kim to place her order to start preparing the drink, and the grateful look on Kim’s face as Trini handed it to her was totally worth it.

“On the house tonight”, she said with a wink. “You come here like twice a day, it’s the least we can do for our most faithful costumer. Besides, you look like you really need it.”

Kim chuckled lightly at the comment. “Is that your way of telling me I don’t look good?”

Trini rolled exaggeratedly her eyes, trying to contain the endeared smile on her lips. “Fishing for compliments now? Like you need anyone to tell you you look ho-good! Tell you you look good”, she stuttered, trying vainly to look detached like she hadn’t just called Kim “hot”.

But then again, the smirk on Kim’s lips was worth it.

Two hour later, Trini was finishing up tidying up behind the counter and preparing to close. When she looked up, she saw Kim was the last person there, crouched over papers and books, two empty cups of coffee lying there and a half eaten cookie.

Trini shamelessly ate her up with her eyes, taking in the way Kim’s hair was falling in front of her eyes, how the girl’s hand mechanically reached to tuck them behind her ears, how she frowned in a terribly cute manner at her books when she was focused. She couldn’t help but notice how red her lips were from biting, and how her hands were always busy playing with her pen.

She was however disturbed in her contemplation when Kim’s phone rang, breaking the bubble the girl was in. Kim picked up her phone, her eyes widening with horror when she saw the ID of the caller. She forcefully put her phone down, screen facing the table, letting it ring and vibrate against the wood.

Concerned as the now too familiar panicked look on the girl, Trini left the counter to approach the table. Kim acknowledged her with a small smile, and Trini noticed the girl was on the verge of hyperventilating.

“Hey, everything’s alright?”, she asked and mentally cursed herself at such a lame question. Everything was obviously not alright.

“I think I’m having a panic attack.”, Kim answered, almost calmly.

“You’d know if you were having one.”

“A small one then!”

“You can’t have ‘small’ panic attacks.”

“I think I have at least one once a day, actually,” she retorted and Trini couldn’t help but laugh at the absurdity of this girl.

She tentatively reached her hand across the table, brushing against Kim’s finger. Kim immediately turn her wrist to let Trini have access to her palm.

“Wanna talk about it?”, the barista asked with concern. Kim’s eyes were focused on their joined hands, the frown never leaving her face. The phone stopped ringing.

Analyzing the look on Kim’s face as she was studying the way their hands fit together, Trini was starting to think that maybe the girl’s constant state of panic was about that. Not about her specifically, but college was a time where people were starting to discover more about themselves. And the first day, things seemed pretty tense with the Jason guy… Maybe Kim was discovering herself, and she had trouble dealing with it. Trini had to shut down the little voice in her head saying she would love to discover Kim herself.

After a long moment of silence where Trini could almost see the turmoil in Kim’s head, the taller girl finally whispered:

“Have you ever felt so lost that you just want to bury yourself in your bed and never leave for the next decade?”

“About three times a week, yeah,” Trini laughed. Kim’s lips twitched up, but she kept frowning.

“I just– My parents are gonna be in town soon and I have something to tell them. And hell’s gonna break lose. And I’m just not ready for it. “

Trini felt a pang of pain in her chest. She definitely knew what Kim was talking about. She had felt the same thing during high school, never knowing how to talk to her parents about her girlfriends, or her life in general. Now she was away, they never talked much about it, but she felt much better now that she didn’t have to see them every day and carry the weight of it every day. Recently her dad had called her and asked at the end of the conversation if she had “someone” in her life, as opposed to her mother stubbornly asking about “boys”. So, maybe there was hope somewhere.

“Maybe they’ll be more understanding than you think,” she tentatively suggested.

Kim chuckled humorlessly. “Yeah, right. I think they’ll just break out the body bag because they’re gonna straight up murder me.”

“They’re your parents, in their own way, they surely love you. I mean, if they’re coming to visit you at college, which – correct me if I’m wrong, I don’t wanna assume – they paid for, they care about you and your well-being. Maybe it’s not gonna be that bad.”

Kim ran her free hand through her hair – at Trini’s delight – and let out a noncommittal groan. “Yeah, Jason said the same thing…”

Trini frowned at the mention of the boy. But if he gave this advice to Kim, he wasn’t as bad as Trini had think – had hoped.

“They’ll learn to accept yourself as you are. You have to start to accept yourself as well,” Trini continued, and she realized she was still caressing Kim’s hand as she was speaking.

“I guess…” Kim said, unconvinced, a small confused smile as she was having trouble following Trini. “But no offence, considering the – situation”, Kim hesitated, trying to find the right word. “and knowing my parents, I really don’t see that discussion going well.”

“You have to make them understand you’re not gonna change.” Trini squeezed Kim’s hand in comfort. “Besides, it’s not like it was uncommon, and it’s becoming more and more accepted. They’ll get over it, eventually.”, she added with a hopeful tone – half talking to herself as well.

She had felt so alone during high school, thinking she was the only one in the world with those weird feelings, it had been a lifesaver to find LGBT organization and associations in college. Maybe they would help Kim as well.

Kim’s head popped up, meeting Trini’s eyes for the first time of the conversation. This time, she looked completely lost and confused.

“Wait– what?”

Trini noted the edge of panic back in her voice. Maybe she had come in too strong, she thought with guilt.

“Well, you know… the whole gay or bi thing.”, she finally let out.

Kim froze, eyes wide. For a second, Trini thought that she was going to get angry, that she’d panic even more and lash out. However, Kim’s reaction was totally unexpected and took her by surprise.

She threw her head back, laughing with an open throat. Her hand let go of Trini’s as she brought it to her mouth, while the other was gripping her ribs. It took about two whole minutes for Kim’s laughing fist to calm down in front of a very confused Trini.

Kim was wiping tears from her eyes as she started to apologize. “I’m so sorry, I just did not expect that. At all. I didn’t mean to be rude!”, she managed to let out between two giggles, kind of cancelling her apologies. She took a deep breath, effectively calming down. “You thought I was gonna come out to my parents?”, she asked with an amused smile.

Trini covered eyes with one hand, wincing with embarrassment. She felt like a total idiot. “Obviously, I’ve misjudged the situation.”, she stated, scratching her head.

Finally looking up, she felt her humiliation disappear because Kim was smiling gently at her, and was reaching her hand across the table to touch Trini’s hand again.

“Obviously,” Kim laughed softly. “Well not totally. Because I did come out to my parents a while ago. That hasn’t been much of a problem for me actually. I’ve always known I wanted to do like, half the football team as well as half the cheerleading squad.” Trini almost choked with laughter at the casual way Kim was putting it. Kim frowned as she realized the crassy way she formulated it “Hold on, that came out a bit wrong.”

“If that’s how you announced it to your parents, I bet!”

They both laughed, their hand never parting. After a moment of silence, Trini finally asked in a more serious tone:

“So, what do you have to tell your parents?”

“They think I’m in med school. I’ve actually dropped out last year because I hated it, but never told them,” Kim explained, the frown back of her face. “They’re big lawyers, always busy, always on business trip. So they just send me money to compensate. I mean, don’t get me wrong, it’s great not to have to worry about that. But they want me to be this successful surgeon, keep up the family name, but I hated it, I was miserable. So one day, I just dropped out, and registered here.”

“Just like that, on a whim? Just– change college and your entire orientation?”, Trini asked bewilderedly.

“I’ve always been reckless and impulsive, you can ask my best friend Jason!”, Kim laughed in response. Trini interiorly cheered at the mention of “best friend” and suddenly she didn’t hate Jason anymore. “But three days ago, they called and said they wanted to visit, so I’m screwed and I’m probably living my last hours right now.”

Trini laughed at the girl’s dramatic antics. Her heart beating fast in her chest, she returned playfully “I might know a way or two to make them fun.” For an instant, she thought Kim was actually going to die of her heart attack right in front of her.

The girl gasped, then blushed furiously, biting her lips and running her hand in her hair, before finally meeting Trini’s eyes and answering with a sparkle in her eyes: “What are you suggesting?”

“Is your roommate there tonight?” Trini hated herself for breaking the mood, but they would need to be alone to do what she had planned for them, and a roommate would get in the way.

“I’m not living on campus actually, I have an apartment not far from here,” Kim answered breathlessly. She hurried in stuffing her books in her bags, trying and failing to not look flustered.

“Oh, so you really are loaded,” Trini laughed, impressed.

She stood up gesturing the door. “Well, lead the way.”

Kim merely grabbed her extended hand in response.

__________________

“Sorry, dude. Can’t make it tonight, I’ll explain later, promise,” she quickly texted Zack. They had planned their usual hang out night, but at this moment Trini was following Kim – who was still holding her hand – in her building, and she certainly did not have time to be more specific.

Trini had taken the time to get the booze and weed from her car before letting herself be guided by Kim. Five minutes later, there were standing in an elevator, and the tension was palpable. Kim was restless, shifting on her feet while Trini’s gaze couldn’t focus on one thing more than two seconds.

Kim lead her in a hallway, rushing her out of the elevator as soon as it stopped. She let go of Trini’s hand to get her keys from her bag and Trini’s mourned the loss of contact.

Half an hour later, they were sitting down in a dimmed light offered by a single lamp on the table, backs against the couch, a glass of wine in hand, shoulders and knees touching. Trini was focusing on rolling a joint and Kim was watching closely, admiring the work and Trini’s agile fingers – and she was drunk enough to wonder what else those fingers could do.

“You bought this yourself?”, she asked while pointing to the bottles of wine on the floor. Kim’s speech was a bit slurred, and she leaned in a bit more than necessary into Trini.

Without looking away from what she was doing, nor breaking her concentration, Trini answered distractedly: “What, have rich people never heard of fake IDs?”

“Oh no, we have”, Kim said, “I’m just surprised yours works.” That made Trini look away from the half rolled joint, meeting Kim’s eyes with a raised eyebrow. “Fake ID or not, you still kinda look twelve.” She teased and Trini rolled her eyes. As Kim was giggling, proud of her joke, Trini decided Kim was definitely a cute drunk. And she was wondering what high Kim was like.

Trini lighted up the stick as Kim was getting up to put on some music. A slow, sensual song started playing and Trini met with hungry eyes when she looked at Kim to pass her the joint. Her breath quickened as she watch Kim placing the joint between her lips, slowly inhaling and exhaling the smoke and Trini thought she never looked hotter than at this moment.

Soon, the alcohol and the weed were forgotten, kicked to the side as eager lips met and hands were exploring bodies. Kim dragged Trini on her lap, running her tongue on the whimpering girl’s neck. She slid her hands over Trini’s waist, gently rubbing her nails against the skin, raising slowly her shirt, asking for a silent permission. She took the tugging of her hairr and Trini crashing their lips together as a positive answer.

Trini’s shirt fell on the floor, next to an empty bottle of wine and a still smoking joint butt, quickly followed by Kim’s tank top.

Trini was grinding against Kim’s hips and the girl’s moans were all she could hear. Kim was too focused on Trini’s body to noticed anything else.

Therefore, neither of the girls heard jiggling keys in the lock, nor noticed the door opening, nor saw the two persons entering the living room.

The light went up, illuminating the scene.

“Sweety, surpri-AAAAh!”

Everyone froze in shock in horror as they were processing what was happening. Trini was straddling Kim’s laps, both girls shirtless, two bottles of wine on the floor and the room smelling unmistakably of weed.

Kim’s parents jaws were hanging low, mumbling incomprehensible words, before her mother started to gain composure.

But before she could say anything, Kim blurted out.

“I dropped out of med school!”

[moonprincess92]

Rebelcaptain fic: 182 days

“Day 36  Their bed was bone-chillingly cold without him.” 

Read on AO3 

    Day 0 

    Something had gone very, very wrong.

    Whispers hit the Echo One hangar almost as soon as the call had come through. How it had been spread, no one could say – I was told by some guy in data analysis, I think Solo mentioned it in the mess, I don’t know everyone’s talking about it – but either way, the whispers soon became shouts.

    The transport was coming in.

    “This is transport 83A7, Rogue One, requesting immediate landing!”

    “Acknowledged, Rogue One, is everything–?”

    “No, no you didn’t hear me, we can’t just go through the usual landing procedures, we’re coming in NOW – oh – oh hell –”

    “Calm down, is that Officer Rook piloting?”

    “Yes, yes, that’s me – be advised, we have severe injuries on board!” 

    The hangar waited on tenterhooks.

    Maybe it was a mark of Bodhi Rook’s call and the utter desperation in his voice, because no one skipped landing procedures, even for injuries. That was how outsiders and Imperial spies invaded. But their transport was taxing in only moments later and the officers and pilots clung to their projects, hiding behind helmets and x-wings, not wanting to be obvious, but needing to know everything that was happening. Rogue One was infamous throughout the entire wider rebellion, after all.

    But no one had expected this.

    Day 1

    Jyn Erso knew she was unfortunately awake, but she kept her eyes closed. She refused to move. She would refuse to breathe if there was any chance of it actually doing anything. Her throat burned to swallow, although it kind of felt like her entire body was burning, if she was being honest. The harsh lights of what she knew was the sickbay were sizzling behind her closed eyelids, but she crinkled the skin, refusing to look.

    Her head was spinning wildly and she knew she was slowly losing control. She needed something to hold onto. Her hand reached out of its own accord, blindly sliding across the sea of sheets, grasping desperately at the first thing it touched. The other hand gripped her own tightly, squeezing her fingers hard enough that she was able to focus.

    Think. What did she know?

    Your name is Jyn Erso. You are a rebel soldier. Your husband is dead.

    She almost started screaming again.  

    She didn’t have a lot of memories of being moved from the transport to the sickbay. She barely even remembered the trip here. She knew she had lost a lot of blood though, and that it must have been quite the sight when they’d arrived. She figured that it was Bodhi, her friend no doubt panicking and white-faced, who must have carried her. The entire base would have seen him sprint with her in his arms straight to the sickbay, the usually stoic Sergeant Jyn Erso barely able to breathe.

    The gut-wrenching sobs that had wracked her would have reverberated throughout the hangar floor.

    (She was glad she didn’t remember).

    Day 4

    It had taken a long time to finally recognise the hand she was holding.

    “Jyn,” Bodhi had tears on his own face when she woke, her eyes bleary and her back throbbing with pain. “Oh, thank the Force, Jyn. I was so worried.”

    She silently scoffed, feebly shaking his hand away.

    The lights weren’t any less harsher than when she’d first been brought in. She was starting to be able to think clearly, which wasn’t what she wanted at all. Compared to this, she’d liked the floating disassociation the pain meds and the trauma had clearly put her in, but Bodhi was crying and watching her, and she couldn’t possibly push him away.

    “Are …” she croaked out. “were you hurt?”

    Bodhi shook his head. He looked like he wanted to reach for her hand again, but was holding back now that she was actually awake. “A few scrapes, nothing serious, nothing like …”

    “You can say it,” she whispered. “Nothing like me. Nothing like him.”

    Hiss SLAM.

    The sound of the blaster bolt hitting flesh suddenly and violently clawed its way back into her head. Before she could even blink, she was back in that run-down apartment, crouched on the worn carpet, back against the stained couch. Yelling, then running, and then without warning –

    Hiss SLAM.

    She wouldn’t forget it. Never could.  

    “I can remember …” she forced herself to say. “He’s dead … isn’t he?”

    A part of her foolishly hoped that she’d been mistaken. She had been half dead herself at the time, it was completely possible that her brain had just leapt to the obvious conclusion. But she would kick herself for thinking it if she could, because Bodhi wouldn’t ever lie to her and she could see the look on his face. Jyn herself even drilled into the new recruits that people died in this war and that it was something to simply get over, but Bodhi was staring at her white bed sheets now, unable to meet her eye, and she knew –

    “I’m sorry, Jyn,” he murmured. “I’m so sorry.”

    Day 8

    Jyn Erso was supposed to know death.

    First her mother and then her father, years later. Many people in between; thugs and mercenaries, Stormtroopers and comrades, nearly all killed in the name of war. She was well acquainted with it, death having followed her like an old friend her whole life. She could mourn. She knew how to eventually only think fondly and move on because that was all you could do when you lost someone. Almost all of Rogue One was gone, but she could remember Chirrut and Baze and their connection to the galaxy and to each other without losing herself at the same time. She could remember Melshi and how he’d had her back in the end. She could even remember the damn droid with affectionate regret (they never had managed to find his back-up drives, had they?).

    But this … how was she supposed to survive this?

    It was over a week before she even let herself start thinking of him. 

    Day 9  

    It happened like this –

    Two undercover rebels walk into a bar. It sounds like a bad joke. But they were confident and they could play the part well. The exaggerated affection was unusual for them in public, but no one knew them here, aside from their exasperated pilot who was listening in from their transport several miles away. They bought drinks and they were always touching somehow. Her hand was on his ass and he sucked her neck under the cantina lights …

    Their contact approached. 

    Day 19

    “Shit, I just feel so bad for her.”

    “Hey, half the time I can’t tell if she even cares or not – OUCH, HEY!”

    “UNCALLED FOR. You were there when she was brought in, I almost couldn’t listen to all that screaming.”

    “She had been shot, of course she was screaming. But she literally turned up for training the second she was out of the sickbay, that says a lot, doesn’t it?”

    “Weren’t they married?”

    “Yeah, like that says much.”

    “Oh, like you can judge, Mr. Never Had A Serious Relationship Ever.”

    “For the record, she’s always scared me a little. I liked Captain Andor, I don’t know, I kind of wish I could tell her sorry or something but she always looks like she wants to murder someone.”

    Many mumbles of agreement there (literally no one could deny that). 

    Day 25

    “We appreciate everything you have done for us–”  

    But Jyn cut Mothma off mid- what was clearly a well-rehearsed speech.

    “This sounds like goodbye,” she said, bluntly.

    Mothma stayed staring at her desk between them. She was uncomfortable. No one had been able to look her in the eye at all since she had left the sickbay. Lord knew Bodhi tried, but even he could only hold it less than a second, before his gaze was again flitting away. No one really knew how to handle her at all, which was probably half the reason she had been hauled into Mothma’s office to begin with.

    “We–” Mothma had always been well composed, put together. It was the one thing Jyn actually appreciated about the woman. However, in that moment, Mothma looked the most unravelled Jyn had ever seen her. “Sergeant Erso. I apologise. I should not have just assumed that you would want to leave the rebellion, given the circumstances–”

    “No, you shouldn’t have,” Jyn said.

    “In that case …” Mothma sighed. “Your place with us still stands. Your role as a part of the Intelligence team has been invaluable, as hard as it is to admit sometimes. Captain Andor was highly respected. On the behalf of the Rebel Alliance Council, we are sorry for your loss.”

    It was superficial. It always was. No one knew what else to say (mind, no one had ever really known what to say to Jyn Erso, even when Cassian had still been alive … but still). So they offered condolences, apologies. At first there had been nothing, but it seemed that a certain amount of days had passed for her to be deemed publically approachable or something, because now it was like she couldn’t get away from it. No matter where she went, she would be stopped by people she barely knew, letting her know they were thinking of her, that they would there if she needed anything, that they were sorry –

    Hell, she was the one who should have been fucking sorry.

    But it should have been expected. It hadn’t exactly been a secret on base that they were married and everyone had mostly liked Cassian. Jyn was just the wild rebel that he had made a wife of, who was known for her murder face, starting fights and making new recruits cry.

    If she’d been the one who was killed, no one would be mourning.

    Jyn gritted her teeth and said, “Thank you.”

    Day 36

    Their bed was bone-chillingly cold without him.

    Day 42

    It carries on – 

    “The Andor's, right?” their contact pressed, forcing Cassian to break away from Jyn’s neck.

    “That's us, Jeron and Kyra–” They all held out their hands to be shaken politely, like any potential assassins would. “We hear you can help us out?”

    “Depends,” Their contact, Jyn noticed, hadn’t introduced himself or even offered a name to call him.

    “On what?” she asked. “Money?”

   “On the job,” the contact pointed out. “This is how we do it – you write down a name for me. I take it away and think about whether it can be done. We meet again, and then we talk prices. Disclaimer now, I don’t do politicians or royalty, too much hassle.”

   “That must filter out a lot of your clientele,” Cassian pointed out.

    The contact just shrugged. “You giving me a name, or what?”

    They handed over the holo of Bodhi Rook’s face and a fake name – the worst part of the plan, in Jyn’s opinion, but the man had apparently refused to be talked out of it. “He’s lying through his teeth,” she snarled, watching their contact slink back off through the dirty cantina. “No politicians, we KNOW he murdered Senator Dalton!”

    Cassian’s arm was slung casually around her waist, although she thought she might have felt him tense slightly at her indignant words. “Bodhi, we made the deal,” he said into the commlink. “Congratulations, you have a hit out on you.”

    “Brilliant,” Bodhi’s voice came back through.

    Day 61

    After 2 months, they held a funeral.

    Though it wasn’t exactly a funeral, as there was no body and never would be. It was more a vigil, a short ceremony held, before the entire base could converge on the mess hall and proceed to get mind-numbingly drunk.

    Someone had even had the gall to ask her if she wanted to speak. She’d started a fight over that one.

    “You’re still here?” Bodhi leaned against the wall next to her. The lights were turned down low, casting deep shadows into the corners of the mess hall. Soldiers laughed, drinks were clinked and memories were spilled freely. It was exactly what happened when a comrade fell, but Jyn felt disconnected to all of it.

    “Free alcohol,” she just said in answer.

    Sometimes she asked herself that. Why are you still here? She had some loyalty to the rebellion, but most of it had just been for him. Cassian was the one thing she’d known she could always believe in. He wouldn’t ever fail her. In the initial days after Scarif, they had circled each other like satellites, struggling and unable to figure out the connection between them just yet. It had sparked under fire, it hadn’t been the right time to try and sort out their hearts when their heads were barely functioning.

    No, it had taken time. Her walls had been high to begin with, but Scarif had all but fortified them. Nothing was getting in, despite how desperately she had apparently wanted something to. They had danced around each other for weeks, unsure how to act, unsure about what to say (could anything really be said?). Until eventually, the need for each other had won out and they’d found themselves falling into bed together anyway.

    They had ended up married barely a year later. 

    “I …” Jyn had hardly spoken a word since the mission. But she spoke to her drink and whispered, “I miss him.”

    Bodhi knew better than to say anything in reply. He just pressed his shoulder to hers and remained silent.

    Day 63

    She gasped loudly as her still-healing wound suddenly stabbed at her.

    Several officers glanced around, but their gazes were quickly averted. People knew better than to make eye contact with Jyn Erso, the grieving soldier who had been forced to witness her husband’s murder. She made herself carry on punching the shit out of the sand dummy. She was straining too far, she knew, but she didn’t care.

    Let her bleed.

��   Day 76

    See, it had all gone wrong – 

    “Negative, no one in sight,” Bodhi’s voice echoed through the commlink. “I don’t know, this doesn’t feel right to me, guys.”

    The apartment they were renting under the guise of newlyweds was a hole at best, but at least it offered them a roof while Bodhi was out in the pouring rain, waiting for someone to try and kill him. Jyn would have much rathered been tailing Bodhi, ready to leap in the moment the hitman appeared, but Bodhi had rightly pointed out that the hitman was clearly a professional and would surely notice if someone was following. So they were forced to stay put, stuck in the kind of building where screams and other loud noises were ignored and no questions were asked. Their plan was solid, but Cassian’s hand on her knee as they listened together on the couch was almost too hard.

    “Relax,” she muttered, hoping that Bodhi wouldn’t hear.

    “I am,” Cassian said. She shot him a look, and he let out a huff of breath, pressing his nose to her hair for a moment.

    Suddenly, Bodhi’s voice was tinny and panicked. “Oh, hell – this isn’t good–”

   “What?”

    “There’s wanted holographs all around the square here,” She heard the wet slapping of footsteps as Bodhi apparently ran. “For me, for my actual name, wanted as a traitor to the Empire – shit, I didn’t know this was Imperial-occupied territory–”

    There had been absolutely no records that indicated such a thing and Jyn exchanged a hard and fast look with Cassian, before they both leapt up, moving to pull out weapons –

    “What did you tell the hitman about who I was?” Bodhi asked fearfully.

    “We said you were a jealous ex.”

    “Oh, god. He has to know you were lying! He’ll put it together, he'll figure out you're Rebel Alliance investigating Dalton's death, quick, you have to get out of there–!” 

    BAM.

    The door to their apartment was blown backwards. Jyn dove as who was clearly an Imperial assassin stormed in, blaster bolts raining over their heads. Cassian returned fire as Jyn rolled to reach him. They pressed their backs against the back of the couch for cover. “He would’ve caught on the moment we handed over Bodhi’s holo!” Jyn sent three shots in perfect formation. Their hitman lunged to take cover behind the doorframe to the kitchen.

    “I’ll cover, you get out the window–” Cassian said. 

    She almost laughed. “Don’t even think about it–”

    But he ducked back down behind the couch. Before she could protest, he’d grabbed her around the waist and practically thrown her towards the window. “GO!” he yelled.

    Her heart was slamming in her throat. Their battery packs wouldn’t hold out forever. Logically, their best chance was for one of them to reach the window, escape, call Bodhi. Any other Intelligence team would have made the call without hesitation, and Jyn swore she’d one day make Cassian pay for forcing her to make the same choice.

    She ran –

    Hiss SLAM.

    The bolt got her from behind. Pain flared up and she hit the ground hard, still feet away from the single window and the fire escape beyond. Shit. Her flesh was burning. She felt like vomiting. She heard Cassian scream –

    “JYN!”

    Day 77

    She dreamt about it.

    Every night in their bed, she was forced to remember. How in his distraction, Cassian had been shot no less than five times in the chest. How Bodhi had arrived in record time, but still not fast enough. She was forced to remember what it had felt like to lie crumpled on the ground, bleeding and burning and unable to do anything. Her dreams made her watch the hitman move across the room and bend down to Cassian’s side, feeling for a pulse. Made her watch his satisfied expression when he stood once more.

    Made her remember when the hitman had seen her watching him, still alive.

    Jyn’s hands were shaking uncontrollably as she pushed back her sweaty hair. She hated the night terrors. She hated the icy chill of Hoth ripping through her when she was forced to change her nightclothes. She hated how she both despised staying in this bed, but was still unable to leave it. She hated that couldn’t accept this, hated that she was still struggling so many months later, hated seeing his face –

    She couldn’t muffle the sobs against her hands.

    Day 89

    (God, she wanted to die).

    Day 90

    Jyn had never seen Bodhi so livid.

    “What the HELL happened?!” he yelled, storming and shoving his way through the crowd that was curiously gathering. Jyn shoved aside the officer who had been helping her down the landing platform, ignoring Bodhi completely. He noticed her sway slightly on her leg and grabbed at her arm, but Jyn ripped herself from him as well. She wasn’t dealing with this.

    “It’s only fractured,” she bit out.

    “It's only –? You cut me off!” Bodhi cried, watching her limp determinedly through the hastily scattering crowd. “I didn’t have a clear view, you had no idea what was in that warehouse, but you just stormed in anyway!”

    “It worked out, didn’t it?” 

    “You have to stop doing this,” Bodhi said furiously, loping alongside her. “Throwing yourself into danger like this, you’re going to get yourself killed! Oh, wait, sorry I forgot – that’s what you want, isn’t it?”

    The barb was intended to hurt, but honestly it just hit her like a dull throb. Bodhi seemed more upset than she was at his words. His face immediately fell as she paused, more out of the pain in her leg than anything, but he didn’t know that. He hadn’t meant to say it. She could see it clearly on his face, but it didn’t make it any less true.

    The truth was that yes, she had basically no regard for her own life at all. The truth was that she missed Cassian with every fractured leg, every bruised knuckle, and every cracked rib that she ever got. Jyn Erso might have been clueless about falling in love, but damnit, she knew how to fight. She knew how to punch and shoot and she knew that the rebellion needed people to push the boundaries. They needed people with little regard for their safety, to be willing to sacrifice themselves for the cause. She could be that person.

    It wasn’t like he was coming back anytime soon.

    Day 91

    But she had apparently scared Bodhi a few times too many.

    Jyn had honestly lost count how often he’d been there for her. How often had Bodhi dragged her home drunk, or held her as she cried? He sat next to her every morning in the mess hall, made sure to drop by at lunchtime, and always dragged her to dinner. Bodhi hated confrontation, but would go off at anyone he caught gossiping about her. The man was her best friend. She’d never even asked him to do any of these things for her.  He had taken her self-destruction silently, allowed her to deal in her own way. It was what she had needed at the time … but now it apparently wasn’t.

    He sighed as he slowly sat next to her. His face was cast down, wary. She realised that not once, so far, had she ever even asked how he was doing.

    “I’m sorry for yesterday–” he began, but she roughly cut over him.

    “No, shut up,” She breathed in painfully, closed her eyes. “Bodhi, I think I need your help.”

    He glanced up. He searched her face and apparently found what he was looking for. He held out his hand.

    She took it.

    Day 101

    “I've been meaning to say I’m sorry,” Bodhi whispered to her. “I'm sorry that I couldn’t save him, too.”

    “Stop it, there was nothing to save,” She winced at the flatness of her voice. She was making an effort these days to try and fix that.

    “Still. If the hitman hadn’t still been shooting at us, I would have gone back for his body. You know, I would have, right?”

    Jyn leaned her head against his. “I know, Bodhi. I know.”

    Day 124

    The day of their wedding anniversary, she allowed herself to reminisce –

    “Jyn …" She ignored the way her name sounded more like a prayer than a call for them to stop. There was no stopping now. He pressed her deliciously against the wall of the storage room, fingers grasping at the collar of her jacket. He yanked it down, making way for his lips against her neck. She bit back a moan, her fingers desperately seeking out skin. His back wasn’t smooth; it was pockmarked and scarred, but right now it was hers and that was all that mattered. She caressed up his spine as Cassian made a noise somewhere in the back of his throat. He pulled her face back to his. 

    She should’ve known she was in trouble the moment she first saw that mouth.  

    He slid his fingers through her hair, down her neck. His lips were fierce, his tongue relentless. For several moments she lost herself in him and the way he consumed her. They had been dangerously close to this ever since Scarif, but the meeting earlier had no doubt tipped them over the edge. His hand on her thigh, the look on her face … something inside her had splintered, set alight. She pulled him closer into her by the hips and he growled. Oh, he could keep making that noise, it was all right with her. She could feel every inch of him, feel the heat spreading as they pressed and ground against each other and this was utterly terrifying. So rarely had she done this. So rarely did she form connections at all. Were they really going to do this? Were they really going to risk fucking up whatever it was they had for this? Was she really going to let herself fall ridiculously in love (because that’s where this was going, plain as day –)

    “Too cold,” Cassian suddenly gasped.

    Jyn was burning. Unable to comprehend, she muttered, “What?” into his mouth.

    “Can’t – not here –” Cassian said. “It’s too cold to take clothes off here.”

    She found herself grinning. 

    "Then let's find somewhere warmer." 

    Day 181

    Six months since the day she’d lost him, Jyn Erso finally made a decision.

    “I need a new room,” she demanded.

    Mothma glanced up. The woman clearly didn’t know what to do with her most days, but Jyn was still one of their best soldiers. She threw herself into her work and she got shit done. “You know we don’t just swap around room assignments,” she countered.

    “Something about ‘if we let one person do it, then everyone else will want to as well, whatever’ – I don’t fucking care,” Jyn thundered. “I need a new room.”

    Mothma watched her a long time before finally answering,

    “Ok. Report back at 1700 hours for your new quarters. I can’t guarantee,” she added, making Jyn pause as she’d spun around to leave. “that it will be a private room. Space is limited on base, remember.” 

    “I don’t care,” Jyn said. “Thank you.” 

    Day 182

    She had a debriefing scheduled, but apart from that, nothing else to occupy her. Jyn felt like visiting Bodhi, but she knew he was on guard tower duty all day and wouldn’t be clocking off until midnight. At least she even had someone who vaguely understood what she was going through. The man’s guilt was only rivalled by her own, but Jyn was always quick to stamp down the worries of who had become as good as her brother. No one deserved to be free from this more than Bodhi Rook.

    Speaking of –

    “JYN!”

    The screech made her start, along with several other officers who occupied the corridor with her. Bodhi came hurtling round the corner, nearly rolling his ankle in the process. “I’ve been trying – just saw you – it’s him, it’s him!”

    “What?”

    He crashed into her, grabbing at her arms. 

    “Hell, I – don’t think I’ve – ever run faster in my life,” he gasped. “I was on the guard tower–”

    “I know, I didn’t expect to see you all day–”

    “A freighter’s come in! Stolen, so we flagged it and shit, Jyn, IT’S HIM.”

    “What do you mean ‘him’?” She was truly alarmed now.

    “I can’t explain it, but it was Cassian’s voice and the first thing he asked was whether you were alive or not,” She only just noticed the smile on his face, his eyes gleaming. “COME ON!”

    Something stabbed at her heart.

    They stormed through the base. 

    A commotion was happening in the hangar. Curious and astounded faces peppered the crowd, pilots hanging out of their cockpits to witness the chaos the stolen freighter had caused. The Wookie, Chewbacca, had even stuck his head out of a vent on the Millennium Falcon to try and figure out what was going on. “He was taken to medbay!” one of the guard tower officers yelled at them when he noticed their approach. They quickly backtracked and Jyn was honestly surprised that half the hangar didn’t follow. She honestly didn’t want to make a scene when they reached the sickbay, but she knew she would punch anyone who dared try and stop her. Luckily, the med staff recognised her and apparently knew better. “He’s through here–” one of them pointed out.

    Bodhi hung back as Jyn pulled aside the curtain. In the literal minutes it had taken to run here, she’d known that she wouldn’t believe it until she saw him with her own eyes. It was too unbelievable. Too miraculous. The scar on her lower back was throbbing.

    … kind of as if it knew. 

    He sat perched on the edge of the bed. He looked like he’d been dragged through hell backwards the last six months. His beard was wild and unkempt, and he held himself awkwardly, like his wounds hadn’t properly healed. His clothes were dirty and not his own, but then he looked up and saw her face and apparently, nothing else in the galaxy mattered.

    “Hey,” he choked out.

    “Hey,” she whispered.

    I thought you were dead screamed from every inch of him. He had seen her go down first, of course he would assume that she was gone as well. A part of her wanted to get mad and yell. Six months apart and he’d been out there the whole time, hurting just as much as she had been. She wanted to hit something. She wanted to ask what kind of stupid trick this was. She wanted to cry. She wanted to laugh. She needed to get her hands on him –

    His face said the same thing as she broke into a smile. His arms were up before she had even run into them. He’d tried to stand, but the force of her had sent him back onto the bed, his arms a tight vice around her waist. She’d never thought she would have this again, never thought she would get to hold him like this again, and she found herself climbing up onto the bed with him, crawling into his lap.

    She fisted her fingers into his hair and sobbed. 

    “Did I get a funeral?” he murmured.

    Thankfully, the medbay had just been precautionary. There wasn’t much they could do for Cassian that hadn’t already been done, and as such he had been quickly sent on his way. Bodhi had also cried and hugged the both of them for several moments before they’d left. Cassian had thanked him over and over for managing to save Jyn, even if he hadn’t managed to save him. Having been cleared for leave for the next several days or so (“Mothma literally said ‘come back whenever’,” Draven had reluctantly informed them) they had quickly retreated to their quarters.

    Their bed was suddenly warm again.

    One of the first things they had done was helping each other strip off their shirts and inspecting the scars that they now had. Jyn had sat hunched over with her back to him, shivering as his fingers had traced the old wound. Cassian’s chest had looked worse, but they were all just added to the collection of scars both their bodies hosted. Refusing to let each other go, they had simply crawled into bed together and there they stayed.

    “It wasn’t so much a funeral than a memorial,” Jyn murmured, on her side and her nose pressed against his chest. “I almost didn’t go.”

    “Fair enough,” Cassian said back, voice equally low. “I might not have gone to yours, either.”

    “How did you survive?” Jyn whispered. “The hitman … he checked for a pulse …”

    “He must’ve gotten it wrong. Maybe I did die for a moment, there. I don’t know, I don’t remember a lot,” Cassian spoke to her forehead. “It would have been hard to ignore a shoot-out, so someone must have called the police. I woke up in a hospital without a commlink and was told that there was so much blood from where your body had been that there was no doubt you were dead. I’m sorry it took me so long to get back here, I tried to send messages back to the rebellion to let them know I was injured, but–”

    Jyn was shaking her head. “I should have been looking for you, I shouldn’t have just assumed–”

    “Jyn–”

    “I shouldn’t have assumed you were dead,” Jyn said, fiercely. “From now on, I will only ever believe it with my own eyes and hands.”

    She looked up at him, but it hit her that what she saw on his face was familiar. It was the look of grief, the look of someone who had been through too much, and she saw that look whenever she caught a glimpse of herself in a mirror. She sighed and whispered,

    “I’m sorry.”

    “We’re both sorry. There was nothing either of us could have done, Jyn,” Cassian assured. 

    "At least I had Bodhi. You had no one." 

    He just hauled her tighter into his arms. "It's … been a rough six months," he admitted. “I mean, your body was missing so I guess a part of me hoped … I just can’t believe you’re here.”

    Jyn needed to see his face. Nose to nose, she ran a hand over the beard that had grown, before moving and tangling her fingers in his hair. “I love you,” she suddenly said. “Don’t ever leave me again.”

    He pressed his lips to hers. It was hesitant and greedy all at once, and she held him to her desperately. She wanted to claw at his skin until she could claim it as hers once more. He kissed hard, ferocious, rolling and pulling her on top of him. She knew better than to protest she might be hurting him. His hands spanned her waist, roaming until they were both breathless and soaring together. Losing Cassian had been like getting her arm chopped off, but now she was suddenly complete again.

    He was home.

    “I won’t.”

    They were home.

[maryswaywardson]

Straight No Chaser | Dean & Damon

@drinkingmurderbuddy

Dean was young, wild, and free. He had no cares whatsoever about anyone or anything. Why should he?

He had nothing. No one.

He had just moved out of the deadbeat town of Lawrence, Kansas. Tired of the constant reminders of everything he lost. His mother died in a fire when he was kid. Leaving his father to raise them for only a short time, before the police convicted an innocent man of the murder of the woman he loved. It was even better that his perfect little brother (engaged and in law school) was convinced the charges were accurate, no matter how much proof Dean provided otherwise. This world was fucked. And Dean needed an escape.

So, to the Big Apple he went. He found himself an apartment, grabbed the small bag of belongings he owned, said goodbye to his Uncle Bobby, and skipped town. His father had left him his dusty black '67 Chevy Impala to have when he came of age. She's been by Dean's side since he was 16, always ready to take him away from the pain he lived in. He figured it was time for his meds. It usually was when he started thinking like that. But, tonight he was feeling more like exploring his new home and getting shit-faced drunk. That was certainly a much more solid plan.

He had downed a few at a dingy rock 'n' roll bar he had found in the heart of Manhattan. Growing bored and extra lonely (he probably shouldn't have skipped his meds) he stumbled along the sidewalk till he came across bright neon lights he could barley read. He squinted to do his best but he was already seeing double. It looked like some sort of strip club and that was good enough for him.

When he entered it looked like the average, run of the mill, whorehouse he was used too. He dragged himself over to the bar and ordered a shot of their strongest whatever. He didn't even notice that there were hardly any girls around. In fact, it didn't even register that there weren't any girls around at all. Just as he started to think that was odd-- he had the most annoying urge to piss. He grumbled curses under his breath and began his search for the bathroom.

Dean was just on his way out to escape this place-- what sort of strip joint didn't have females-- when it dawned on him that he was (probably) definitely in some sort of gay bar. Son of a bitch. He was stumbling between the young (and old) men that were indiscreetly eyeing him. Desperately trying to find his way back out--he pulled out his phone to shoot a text to his ungrateful little shit brother--when he bumped into someone and dropped his phone. By that--he meant tripped over-- "Fuck me! I'm sorry man--" He fumbled to pick it back up off the ground when he met the stranger's piercing sapphire eyes. The overwhelmingly handsome young man already had Dean's phone in his hand, offering it back to the disheveled ass that Dean just made of himself. "Well, aren't you a handsome son of a gun. Thanks." What the fuck? Did that just come out of his mouth. Definitely should've taken his meds.

[dartheames]

For Elena! 1) When did she kiss one of her friends? 2) Who does she still love, but shouldn’t? And 3) When did she get so angry that she cried?

I’m heaving trouble breathing because there’re actual questions for my Shepard! Thank you! 

It’s gonna be the long one because I don’t bother enough to actually write her story and nobody knows what’s going on. (Also I’m gonna stuff all three answers in one story, try and find them he he he.)

Let’s start with a concept that Elena didn’t have what you can consider “a friend” until meeting our favorite Normandy crew.  Growing up in the orphanage didn’t really make her a people person, she was that weird kid in the corner playing with a toy space rocket by herself and growling at you when trying to take it away. So yeah she didn’t make any friends, children aren’t always nice. She ran away at the age of 12 to the big city (Moscow to be precise) where she was picked up by the local gang while trying to steal from the kiosk on their property (I can’t believe I headcanon 22nd century Russia as 90′s but I honestly don’t think this shit would ever change. Let’s say it was a space kiosk). The gang wasn’t the place to have friends too, even though there were children her age. But then again, she wasn’t the friendliest person too. She had a role of the delivery girl, carrying stuff around the city, mostly money or drugs. One time it was a package of red sand. You probably can guess how that ended up - you don’t usually expose yourself to that stuff unless you’re an addict or a clumsy kid who doesn’t know what’s inside the shady looking bag. She tried to flee but of course was found and lived through the events that gave her PTSD, nasty inner voice that speaks renegade and desire to ran away from every person who want’s to be closer than distant acquaintance, let alone friend or lover. Only people she could trust were Anderson, a father figure, and Nihlus, the “bother figure” (:D). Those two were the ones who find her after the traumatic events (don’t even ask me what were they doing in Russia, I don’t know, go away) and brought her with them. She went thought school, biotic training and N7 academy, with Anderson constantly checking on her and Nihlus being on and off here and there Spectre ideal person she looked up to. As we skip to ME1 she didn’t believe she would meet people she would care about as much as it turned out to be. During the 14 years had passed she learned how to be a passable person, but only a passable, giving no shits about what she was asked to do, she had always had a goal for the mission, a trusty gun in one hand and bitocs in another to carry her through. Torfan was a proof enough she didn’t need anyone to finish her business. She was alone but she quickly learnt the alcohol is a nice substitution. 

At least it was until Saren killed her favorite and the most important person in the whole world. She was usually quick to anger but at that moment standing in front of Nihlus’ body she realized what the true rage is. It is when you’re seeing everything in shades of red, you can’t breath because your throat hurts and hot water drips down from your face. Saren didn’t have a single chance after that, there were no talk trying to persuade him to surrender. She just straight up murdered him in a cold blood. It didn’t brought any satisfaction though, only madness and more rage. 

But we should back up a little now on the subject of friends. Throughout the adventure she grew pretty close to her alien crew. She was very cautious of people, so she turned to them instead. Tali and Wrex were her usual choice in combination with Garrus who was a constant, burning in vengeance almost as much as Shepard herself. They became especially close after Virmire where one time he literally had to dig her out of pile of geth bodies what kicked her memory of Nihlus reaching to her, covered in blood in the middle of poorly lit alley back home. There goes her illusion of “I can do it on my own”. At the end of ME1 they’re practically best friends unless they’re not because Shepard is hopelessly in love and absolutely uncomfortable with it. She wasn’t ready to feel that strong, she was sure she couldn’t have a desire for anyone after that trauma, she thinks her body is wrecked and besides Garrus is a turian. Who needs a small broken human when you’re so big and hansome! But she doesn’t want to run away again so the result of all her confusion is an offer to become Garrus’ Spectre mentor is he decides to join her when she’s done with the rest of the geth. He promises to think about it but she dies and he’s off to Omega. 

And we can happily skip to the part when Elena is back alive again. She has a new body, clean and free from all the torment she’d experienced. Sadly the mind is not and she keeps automatically running with her old settings, angry with everything and everyone, with a headache as strong as a hammer and a face dark and glowing. She runs until she’s stopped by a rocket to the face of her new favorite and the most important person in the whole. She doesn’t even have any strength to be angry anymore, she just cries and punches people who try to separate her from Garrus. She cries more in the med bay kissing his whole face covered in blood and asks whatever gods there are to keep him alive and she’ll be calm and focused and overall decent person in return. Gods hear her for once, Garrus is alive and she treats her face and tames her mind with some help from Kelly and Thane. 

I guess I can stop here since I answered all tree questions :D Feel free to ask me more if you find anything of you interest. 

[cohcommunity]

Anna's Malawi Diary

Anna Stock traveled to Malawi in May 2017 with our Medical Team. She has shared parts of her diary with us to give you a sneak peek into some of the fun, crazy and amazing experiences God brings to us in Malawi at the Grace Center! It's a little long, but worth your time so come back often to visit and read to the end.

May 19th I missed 90% during peeing the first time in a squatty potty. I made 100% the next time.

When it got dark, the stars here are AMAZING! They’re literally one of the most beautiful sights I have EVER SEEN. You can see them so clearly and even the Milky Way. This sight is such a blessing.     

For dinner, we had white rice with an egg and tomato sauce topping with bananas as a side. It was SO GOOD! I don’t think that anybody enjoyed it as much as I did, but I loved it! 

I met about 20 people today, but I don’t think I got a single interaction correct in Chichewa.

May 20th My feet are ABSOLUTELY DISGUSTING.

Words that were used instead of Chetenge (however you spell it): chechanga, chechunga, churro, chimichanga, choo-choo, zzzzzzchenga

When we were walking away from Patricia’s home, after meeting Janet for the first time, Sydney told me that she is HIV+. This kind of shocked me because I have been so scared about HIV and AIDS in the past, but this little girl who I just fell in love with is HIV+. I feel like if I had known that before holding her, I would have looked at her differently.

May 22nd I dropped a pill on the ground in the pharmacy and Kelsie said, “Pick it up, this is Africa, hun.” That really put things into perspective…but that was also nasty.

Eunice didn’t have her Hb tested when she came into the nurse’s station, so I took her back out to that station. In the fingerprint book at Abusa’s house, it said that Eunice was healed of HIV after a team member prayed for her. I feel like every child I have connected with here so far has some type of connection to HIV. Janet is HIV+, Timmy Too’s mom had it, and Eunice has been healed from it. God is kind of freaking me out with this. I feel as though God is really helping me to overcome my fear.             

I made Timothy say my name every time I saw him—I will force children to know who I am.

May 23rd I AM SO TIRED I ALMOST FELL ASLEEP IN THE WICKER CHAIR OUTSIDE THE CLINIC.

I talked to Henry about Chichewa and English at the clinic today while sitting on bean bags…like literal bags of beans. He kept pointing to things asking me how to say them, but I don’t even know “bean” or greetings, there is no way I am going to know “window” or different body parts even if he keeps pointing at them.  And then they kept trying to get me to sing head and shoulders in Chichewa. Singing isn’t going to magically put Chichewa words into my mind. It was funny to watch him laugh at me struggle.

I sat down at Patricia’s and had Eunice sitting by me resting on my lap. Eliya was on my lap closest to me and then Janet was on my knees. My lap and heart were so full.

I am pop-quizzing children about my name so that they learn it and remember who I am. Poor Timothy knows my name I think now, but he probably avoids me now to not get pop-quizzed.

Adorable moments—when I would take a temperature of a small child at the clinic and I would kneel down to get to their level and then THEY WOULD KNEEL DOWN WITH ME. Then we would both just be chilling on the floor.

May 24th I will murder a rooster.

God is changing me so much in this season. I feel like I’m learning so incredibly much about love. I have never had someone break down my walls and connect with me as quickly as these kids have. Their love is INCREDIBLE. I thought I was coming here for a medical trip mostly, but now the clinic is just kind of part of it and I look forward to leaving it every day to go play with the kids. I just never thought in a million years that this would happen. I don’t particularly like kids, but now I just LOVE THESE KIDS. I’m so confused. God is trying to push me and grow me and change me and I’m getting annoyed…but it’s good and I’m happy.

May 25th I gave 2 shots today. The first was FLAWLESS to an old man. The second was to a child and it bounced off of his skin. I made him cry. I felt bad. I had no idea that you dart it to get the needle to go in and I literally asked right before giving the first one, “So how do you push this in?” and Karly said “Like a dart”. I HAD NO IDEA. But then I through about how was he going to get his medicine and so I darted the heck out of that shot. I AM SO UNDERQUALIFIED.

Timothy sat by me at lunch today. I think he likes me and the pop-quizzing of my name is going very well.

I gave Eunice some of my hand sanitizer that smelled like flowers. She was wearing a purple headband that all the girls shared. It had flowers on it and she rubbed the hand sanitizer on the headband so that the flowers smelled like real flowers. It was literally the most adorable thing I have seen in my life. It was so innocent.

May 26th

While the girls were waiting to shop outside of Abusa’s house, they started singing by themselves. You don’t see that kind of RAW joy in America. I don’t usually have that kind of raw joy in my own life.

"You don’t see that kind of RAW joy in America."

May 28th During one of the songs at church today, they had a portion of the song about not being able to walk in hell. To portray this, they had a man convulsing on the ground. I thought I was going to witness an exorcism. Not gonna lie…I was pretty excited… but turns out it was just part of the choreography.

During the prayer times in one of the songs, the word VESSEL kept coming to mind. I think God is showing me that I need to fully surrender.  I’m not completely being a vessel. I’m being a puppet for Him with a string on only 1 hand and 1 foot, when I need to give over all of that control.

Esther J’s face is PRICELESS.

May 29th We went up to Abusa’s house to help the boys shop after clinic and KUMBUKANI SHOPPING WAS THE ABSOLUTE FUNNIEST AND MOST ADORABLE THING I’VE EVER SEEN IN MY LIFE. He salsa danced in and out of the dressing room.

It was so nice to see so much happiness from all of the boys and their different personalities really come out during that time.

I was playing a soccer/keep away game with Arnold and I needed to get the lid that we were using as a ball from him so I slide tackled him. He did NOT see it coming. My chitenje really gave me some momentum and helped me slide across the porch.

May 31st I was with Dr. Rick in the clinic today. It was really neat because he let me do most of the assessment and even pick the meds (of course he oversaw it all). The language barrier is very evident in a setting like this. Innocent was a WONDERFUL translator.

I was chasing Josiah and Clever for a while at Patricia’s, but having trouble catching them because of the whole chitenje situation, so I told Kumbu to help me and he literally walked over and MAN HANDLED them and brought them back over to me. I love Kumbu.

Brian flew the drone at Patricia’s house which was HILAROUS because all of the kids were trying to touch it and he would just mess with them and almost let them touch it and then lift it up again. Then the kids started grabbing each other to get higher.

June 2nd I was sitting on the wall outside of Abusa’s house watching the sunrise because it was absolutely beautiful… and something really substantial hit my leg and ran away. I’m guessing it was a mouse, but I don’t know. After that, I decided that I was done watching the sunrise.

I ate my last trail mix yesterday. All I have now is like 2 packs of cashews. It’s a struggle.

June 3rd: Lake day One of the house moms took Evasi (cerebral palsy) to the water edge and sat him down in the sand so that the waves could barely touch him. He doesn’t really show much expression, but when a wave came in the first time, a little smile came across his face. Then the next wave came in and he smiled a bit more. The house mom with him was beaming when she saw him smile. It was so amazing to see her light up and show him so much love even though she isn’t his biological mom.

June 4th We were walking down to church and I heard a boy yell “Anna, Anna” but NOBODY WAS ANYWHERE. I was really confused. Then I heard it again. I looked up in the big tree outside of Timothy’s home and it was KUMBU at the top of it!

Eunice and Clever got in a fight over my lap at one point during the popcorn/tangerine party. It was scary, but made me feel loved.

When the little kids came out in their dresses and suits it was the ABSOLUTE CUTEST thing in the world. All of the other kids were SO HAPPY. Timmy Too was standing on the edge of the group photo. He had his hands in his pants, but it kind of looked like he was doing the typical guy pose with his hands in his pockets. He looked like a little man.

June 6th The safari was really neat, but I feel like the whole entire time I was thinking about all of the kids. I was so preoccupied with these feelings that I didn’t really enjoy the safari even though it was amazing.

Dingie was by far the most incredible tour guide. He got super excited when he realized there were 2 warthogs and not one…like he had never seen a warthog before.

At one point, Dingie drives into a swamp area to see a crocodile. We see one. Then he turns off the jeep, GETS OUT (again, we just saw a crocodile), goes to the back, pees in the dark, gets back in, off-roads, almost flips the vehicle, drives through literally a jungle…like literally straight jungle…branches flying everywhere, somehow hits a path, and then continues on the safari.

We were almost done with the safari and he gets a call that someone found a leopard. So Dingie SPEEDS back where we just were, off-roads, and gets us within 15 feet of a leopard…just chillin’…just sitting there MAKING EYE CONTACT WITH US. I was very glad that I was not on the cat side of the vehicle. Very thankful to Matt for that.

I tried to shower but there was no hot water or soap, so I skipped it…I live for bucket showers anyway.

June 7th When we got back to the Grace Center, I go SO excited. We stopped at the bottom of the hill and I asked if I could just get out there because I didn’t want to waste any time. As soon as I got out, a group of kids ran up to me! It was so sweet. It was like a mini-welcome.

Clever wanted to play with a ball he had. He threw it to me and I threw it back to him and he is so uncoordinated that it hit him in the face. I felt kind of bad, but hopefully it will inspire him to get better at sports. He is so adorable. I love him.

I found Eunice and we walked up to Patricia’s. She was eating a tangerine but she was also holding my hand which was very sticky and wet, but I didn’t mind. I missed her while I was on Safari. She said something to me in Chichewa at the top of the hill. Usually she just kind of rattles things off in Chichewa, but she really said this to me, so I asked Lontia to translate it. She said that she missed me. It was really sweet to hear that because I had had such a hard time being away while I was on safari that to come back to a mini-welcome and the kids who I love saying they miss me was so sweet.

June 8th Clever came up behind me when I was sitting on the ground before chapel and all I felt was a HUGE tummy in the back of my head. He just stood there pressing into the back of my head repeatedly. After eating, he hid behind a tree and I went over to catch him and he ran away through the field. He was actually really fast, and my chitenje was really holding me back, but I caught him and picked him up. It was so adorable because he just gave up and took a nap on my shoulder.

Karen came up to Patricia’s in the minibus and got everyone together to pray and sing and out of nowhere, little Esther C hits us with the vocals and leads the song.

I started crying during the prayer.

We all said our good-byes. Eunice was by me most of the time, but I wanted to say good-bye to her last. Once I had hugged everyone at least once, some twice, some three times, I hugged Eunice and struggled through saying “I love you” and “I will miss you” in Chichewa. Actually letting go of her hand and walking to the minibus was weird. It wasn’t that that moment was the hardest part or super emotional by itself, but it just felt wrong and awkward, like it wasn’t supposed to happen. I turned around once I got to the minibus to wave and she was just standing there watching still, kind of blank. It just felt very weird to walk away.

The boys didn’t show a lot of emotion, but it was a good transition from crying a lot at Patricia’s to going back to Abusa’s house.

They were all good good-byes

I had my last bucket shower. I will miss those.

June 9th Breakfast was HUGE buns and eggs…my gluten free cleanse I was attempting before getting on the plane went right out the window. I didn’t even eat the eggs…just the bread.

Sydney took me to see Eunice’s picture book in the office before Chapel. It was amazing to see her transformation. She is literally the living representation of overcoming one of my worst fears.

I cried like 3 times on the plane.

The more I think about all of this, the more what Karen said resonates with me “It’s okay to have to come back here to visit this piece of your heart”. That piece of my heart is more than there. It is weird to have that split because I don’t think I have ever really allowed myself to have one in the past, at least not to this extent. But it’s not a piece that I want back. I want those kids who poured out their love to me for 3 weeks to have it. I don’t think they have any idea the extent of their love that they gave me and in the moment, I know that I had no idea the piece of my heart that I was giving them.

June 12th The plane ride home was very difficult for me because I felt like that moment, leaving, was literally the farthest I would be from those children and that place. I was literally going in the opposite direction and that was really hard for me. I also think that that time was one of the best times of my life because I don’t think I have ever felt something THAT deeply or been that shook up and kind of broken, I guess, about an experience. But it was such a sweet sadness. I wouldn’t want to not feel that way after leaving.

Sydney told,me, “Let yourself feel all those emotions.” It is definitely a hard thing to feel. It’s not completely comfortable to come to the realization that your heart will never be whole again, that all the pieces will never be in the same place at one time again. But this is something that I want to feel. I think that through this breaking God has shown me so much about His character and His love that I want to fully experience this emotion because it is bringing me closer to Him. I know that I have absolutely no idea how to make the transition back to the States or how to put into words the emotion I have felt this trip, but I know that God has an incredible plan for it all and that He will give me words that I need to glorify Him through this whole experience.

"I think that through this breaking God has shown me so much about His character and His love that I want to fully experience this emotion because it is bringing me closer to Him."

Each summer Circle of Hope sends team members to bridge gaps and further the development of Malawi. Anna's diary is one of many perspectives and shows growth and connection from her, as well as, the kids she went to serve. Pray with us today for our staff, kids, friends, supporters, and team members...each little laugh and big spiritual revolution impacts our lives.