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the-blind-assassin-12 · 4 years ago

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Resol’nare - Part Two

A/N: I really wanted to have this up earlier today but this headache had other plans. Anyways, not much to say here except... meet Navina!

*this story will regularly be using words in Mando’a. for a good list of references click here.*

Summary: Navina Harsa has been on her own for a long time, and she has done whatever she’s needed to in order to survive. From time to time that means forsaking the teachings, The Way of her people. But there is one thing that she will never do, and that is forsake her family- even if they’re gone.

Word Count: 4.8k

Warning: language

Yavin 4.

Navina Harsa leaned against the window of the transport shuttle as the destination came into view. Clouds swirled in wispy white clusters, parting to reveal the marbled green and blue hues that the dense foliage and deep, clear water painted across the moon’s surface. Quiet gasps from the row behind her gave those passengers away as first time visitors to the remote jungle moon, the three young children chattering excitedly about all the things that their parents must have told them in the weeks leading up to their trip. Navina tried to put herself in their shoes, imagining what it would be like to see Yavin 4 for the first time all over again. But while the family of travelers was choosing this location for a vacation, her own reason for visiting was vastly different. And she had seen it many times. It is beautiful, though.

As the shuttle neared the docking zone, the landscape and vegetation became more defined, and she could make out the massive ziggurat that poked up from the trees. Neither centuries of erosion, nor years of war and conflict had damaged the structures that still loomed like imposing stone giants over the land.

“You can see them from anywhere you are on the ground,” the man behind her was telling his children. “If you think they’re big now,” she glanced back in time to catch him tapping the youngest boy on the nose with the tip of his finger. “Just wait until we get up close.” He curved his other arm around one of the older two, corralling the three of them close to the window. The children giggled excitedly, their parents exchanging warm smiles over their heads as they continued to buzz with questions and exclamations.

Navina clamped her eyes shut and faced front, blinking them open again when she was sure she’d only see the back of the seat in front of her. She stared at the bright red material, a bittersweet ache opening in her chest. Another year. Her right hand came up to her throat, fingers digging beneath her dark gray shawl for the leather cord she wore around her neck. Sliding it between her thumb and index finger, she felt for the cool metal pendant, wrapping it in her palm. Squeezing until the pointed tusks of the carved mythosaur poked into her flesh, she closed her eyes once more, inhaling deeply through her nose.

Ni su'cuyi, gar kyr'adyc, ni partayli, gar darasuum, aliit.

She held her breath, letting that ache deepen for a few seconds as the three faces she would never forget appeared in her memory. Her mother’s sharp, shining eyes. The strength in her father’s calm smile. The little one, sound asleep and dreaming. You never left, because I carry you with me. Exhaling slowly, she released her grip on the pendant, the ache receding like she knew it would, and she tucked it back beneath the cowl of her shawl. Nothing can truly separate us. Hand falling back to her lap, she turned to look out the window once more as the Star Commuter began its final descent towards the docking platforms. Bending down, she scooped up the strap of her shoulder bag and slung it across her body, the contents clanging together as she adjusted its weight and readied herself to disembark.

An overhead speaker chimed before a cheerful pre-recorded voice rang out in the cabin. “Welcome to Yavin 4. Please be sure that you have all of your belongings before departing the ship. Passengers traveling with droids may claim them at the station hub once we have touched down. We thank you for choosing to fly with us, and hope that you enjoy your stay.”

There was further information regarding booking return passage from the moon, but Navina tuned it out. She wouldn’t be leaving Yavin 4 the same way that she arrived. And if all goes according to plan I’ll never have to shuttle hop again. Standing as the craft hovered closer to the platform, she reached for the handle above her head, using it to steady herself as the shuttle jerked into a parked position. Once the floor had stopped shuddering beneath her boots, and the children in the row behind her had all dramatically tumbled from their seats, Navina let go of the handle and pulled her hood up, tucking her long woven braid into it. As the cabin doors opened and the rest of the passengers fumbled to gather their belongings, she filed quickly past them and out into the thick, humid air.

Back again.

She wasn’t born here, so it technically wasn’t her home. But it was the closest thing that she had to one. Her parents had been forced to leave Mandalore when she was only a few months old, settling on Concordia with the rest of the warrior clans. They lived there as a family for almost six years, but she had no real memory of it, couldn’t conjure more in her mind than what she’d been told. Even the memories of the night that they left were scarce and came to her in pieces- Purple light. Deep voices. The frenzied feeling of being followed. She remembered being tired, wanting to sleep, and finally being able to, curling up with the baby and both of them drifting off quickly. Her parents explained as best as they could why they had had to leave, why they’d chosen to do they things that they had, and that explanation evolved to include more as she grew older. Even though she understood it, none of what they told her helped her to remember a home before they one they’d made there in the jungle caves of Yavin 4.

They’d only spent four years here, completely secluded, just the four of them, but she could recall almost every second. Training with her parents, learning how to fight among the wide, flat leaves and vibrant flowers, splashing in the shallows at the base of the waterfall with the little one as her parents watched, humming rhymes for him as he cooed and laughed. She remembered running through the tunnels that connected their cavern to the network of others, her own voice echoing off the walls as she practiced words she’d heard her parents say: morut'yc, cyar'ika, gra'tua. The language was harsh, hard to learn and harder to speak, but she remembered the pride that she felt when her pronunciation was correct, or if she used a word or phrase properly. Her mother’s pewter eyes would flash and her father would nod.

“This is the Way, Ina’ika,” her mother would always end every lesson, whether it was on weapons or traditions, with the words that every Mandalorian had heard thousands of times.

This is the Way.

But was she a true Mandalorian? It was something she struggled with for years now. Her parents were gone. She had no clan, no tribe, no one to swear allegiance or loyalty or anything at all to. She’d given up on wearing her armor at all times when several dire situations had demanded that she do so, donning it only when necessary. It’s not even my armor. Shrugging, she reached across her chest to pull the strap higher up on her shoulder. Had she grown up among other clans like her parents did, she would have been given her own armor as soon as she started training. When she reached a certain age she would have had the chance to swear the Creed and pledge herself to the Way of the Mandalore, and she would have been presented with her first custom piece of beskar armor- usually a helmet, sometimes a chestplate. Instead she carried her mother’s helmet, a pair of vambraces that she relieved a black market trader of, both too big for her wrists and needing extra padding so they wouldn’t slip when she used them, and a thin chestplate and shoulder pauldrons that had been salvaged from troopers during the Clone Wars and coated in several layers of durasteel. Beskar armor was impossible to come by, a Mandalorian armorer willing to smith something for a vagabond wearing mismatched steel even more difficult to find. She’d done her best to collect what she could. But it wasn’t beskar, aside from the helmet, and it wasn’t hers.

She’d called herself a bounty hunter and a pilot, a courtesan, a killer, a thief, a smuggler, a spice runner and a stowaway, and she’d done so without pause because at some point she had been all of those things, often a few of them at once. She hesitated, though, when it came to calling herself Mandalorian. I’ve broken almost every code there is to break. As much as she tried to keep the traditions and beliefs that her parents had instilled in her, she knew that for every action she took to walk the Way, she had taken at least one in direct opposition with it. Not to mention the things that she had planned. I doubt destroying the Darksaber counts as rallying to the cause of the Mand’alor.

The stone path beneath her feet gave way to the springy jungle moss that covered the ground as she navigated her way through the station hub, the only place on Yavin 4 that could be considered remotely crowded, and she forced such violent thoughts from her mind. Not here. For the last eighteen years, every move she made or job she took was influenced by one of three goals: survival, avenging the deaths of her family, or gaining information on the most infamous weapon in Mandalore’s history- specifically where she could find it, and how it could be obliterated. In her mind, it was just another thing that stood in the way of her people ever striking a balance, just another reason for Mandalorians to stay hidden or for clans to clash with one another instead of standing strong together. It unified them once...but it didn’t last. Any totem of power would attract corruption, she was sure of it, and that’s what the Darksaber was.

She’d never seen it herself, only imagining the way that the onyx blade would crackle to life, slicing through the air in swaths of glowing obsidian light. The stories that her parents had told her, the scraps of information that she was able to collect through the years were all she had to build her idea of the weapon on. But she was certain that she’d know it when she saw it, even if her imagination was off base. She exited the hub, something her father had once said about the sword tumbling to the forefront of her memory. “All the misuse… all the times it fell into the wrong hands… all that fear. There’s too much anger, too much hatred. The blade is imbued with it now. No one is strong enough to resist it anymore.” He didn’t believe that it could ever be used for good again- and certainly not if someone who’d been hardened and hollowed out by pain and loss and wrath were to lay claim on it. Someone like-

Shaking her head, Navina tried to clear her mind of the Darksaber and the emotions that it stirred in her. That’s not why I’m here. Her search for the blade, like her search for those who had betrayed her family, consumed most of her day to day thoughts and dictated almost every move she made or job she took. The leads she found determined where she travelled and how long she stayed there, chose her allies for her and taught her who her enemies were. But this trip was different. Her annual trip to Yavin 4 had nothing to do with her self-assigned mission. This is for them...and for me.

Behind her, the family from the shuttle was heading towards the Ruins, where a small camp was set up with accommodations for vacationers. The children skipped and jumped, practically tripping over one another with excitement now that they had made it to their destination and no longer had to sit still on the shuttle. A sad but wistful smile curved up the side of her mouth as she cast one last glance at the parents and their young ones. They’ll have fun here. Turning away from them, she headed instead for the thick underbrush of the rainforest. Pushing a leaf the size of an astromech droid out of her way, she slipped between the branches and out of site.

It was easier to push the Darksaber from her thoughts once the greenery had swallowed her, the air still and heavy with the heat, but fresh and clean and noticeably sweeter than it was closer to the hub’s docking platform. But before she could fully appreciate the comfort of being back in the only place she’d ever called home, a bright flash of light, this one amethyst, cut through her memory, blinding her. Suddenly, Navina recalled the face of the stranger that her family had encountered the night they left Concordia, his eyes calm but dark, the storm inside them contained but present. “Our enemies think that we are enemies.” His deep voice came back to her easily, more clear than it ever had before. “But perhaps more importantly, so do our allies.” The man had handed something small to her mother before passing a larger bundle to her father, and then within seconds he’d vanished.

The purple light flashed sharply in her mind once more, clearing the memory as quickly as it had assaulted her. Navina gasped, doubling over to brace her hands on her knees while she steadied her breathing again. That was… It’s never been that clear before, I… She inhaled shakily, straightening up and removing the hood from her head. Her long black braid tumbled free, smaller blue braids woven throughout it, and she pushed a silvery blue strand back behind her ear. I could never remember what he said, that man but now... She concentrated on his words, trying to etch them into her brain, desperate to find and keep any of the lost pieces of the puzzle she was trying to fit together.

“Our enemies think that we are enemies.” Speaking the words out loud, she started walking once more, her steps sure and confident despite the twisted roots and thorny vines that poked up from the ground. Navina knew each rock and root of these parts like the back of her hand, no matter how much new growth there was between now and her last visit. Feet finding the route for her, she continued to focus on the memory. He wasn’t...that man, he wasn’t a Mandalorian. That part seemed clear. But then… She chewed her bottom lip and shifted the strap of her bag, her armor knocking together and hitting her hip as she hopped a fallen massassi trunk. Then who was he?

Narrowing her eyes, she dug out the pendant that she wore around her neck again, this time pulling it out from under her shawl. Since she was alone it was safe to reveal the ancient symbol without giving herself away. Opening her palm, she stared down at the shiny silver skull, the faceted gem at the heart of the piece shining through the Mythosaur’s carved eyes. Sometimes, when the light reflected off the gem that was encased within her mother’s necklace, it appeared to be a soft purple color. Here, on the forest floor where only small patches of filtered greenish sunlight made it through the canopy, the gem seemed colorless. She sighed, dropping the pendant and letting it bounce against her chest. Who was he, and why am I remembering this now?

Immediately, the same hopeful flicker in her heart that had woken her from a dream a few nights prior came back, stronger this time. Maybe it means I’ll see them again… My father and-

“Well look what the loth-cat dragged in.”

A voice from her left broke her from her wishful thinking. Grabbing for the blaster that was hidden beneath her shawl, she whipped it from the holster strapped to her upper thigh. In one swift spin she pointed her weapon in the direction of the speaker before the familiarity in his tone registered. Wait, it’s-

“Woah, woah, woah there, Nav, take it easy, it’s just-”

“Firo!” She lowered her weapon, sliding it back into its holster as she sighed heavily. “Are you kriffing crazy? I could have shot you!”

“So,” Her friend’s green-gold eyes brightened, a smirk pulling his mouth crookedly up the side of one bearded cheek as he ignored her half-sincere outrage. “You didn’t know I was standing here?” He leaned casually against the nearest tree, arms crossed over his chest and one knee bent to rest his boot sole against the bark behind him.

“That wasn’t smart, Firo.” Navina rolled her eyes and made her way closer as the man fought to hold back his laughter, his long sandy brown hair falling in his face.

Shaking the strands away from his forehead, he blinked rapidly, each exaggerated bat of his lashes seeming to pump more sarcasm into his words. “You mean I,” he gestured to himself with his thumbs, hands clad in maroon leather fingerless flight gloves, “got the drop on you?” He extended both pointer fingers in her direction then, that same stubborn piece of hair flopping between his eyes again.

Technically, yes, but I was… distracted. She clicked her tongue and stepped over a boulder, half buried and covered in spongy green moss and bright orange mushrooms. “You need a haircut, Firo, you look like an overgrown bantha.”

“Deflecting, Harsa?” He pushed off from the tree with one foot and shoved his sleeves up his forearms. “Sounds to me like you’re deflecting.” He’s not gonna let this go. The bandolier that he insisted on wearing, even though it was too loose for his thin frame, fell down his shoulder and he reached across himself to fix it. “It sounds to me, like you don’t want to admit that I-”

“Oh dank farrik, fine. Yes. Yes, you got the drop on me.” Navina played into his gloating like she knew he wanted her to, lacing her own words with playful sarcasm. “So look out, Bounty Hunters of the Outer Rim, because Firostian Ottabok is going to claim all the highest paying pucks for himself.”

His grin finally grew too large for his face, and it burst into an open mouthed laugh. “Damn, Nav, it’s good to see you.” Throwing his arms around her, he pulled her into a tight hug and she smiled against his chest. Despite his lanky limbs and bony elbows, Firo’s hold on her was strong and secure. Navina returned it with equal force, sliding her arms under his to wrap them around his body.

“It’s good to see you too, scoundrel.” She pulled away and shoved that same piece of hair away from Firo’s face with two fingers. “But what are you doing out here? We always meet at the caves.” Her eyebrows came together in concern as she scanned his face for any of his tells. He’s not looking away or scratching his nose, so… “You didn’t run into any trouble, did you?”

“Me? In trouble? He blew out a puff of air and waved one hand, fingers spread wide. “Why are you always so quick to assume I’m in trouble?” Navina arched one eyebrow and stared up at him. Do you really want me to- “You know what?” He slung one arm around her shoulder and urged her to start walking again. “Don’t answer that.” She laughed, falling into step with him as they headed toward the cavern’s opening. Yeah, that’s what I thought.

Navina and Firo had gotten each other into and out of about as much trouble as two outlaws could over the past ten years. If she was keeping track though, she had a strong feeling that the scales would tip slightly more in his direction than hers. There had been the time she convinced a fellow bounty hunter to trade a captured Firo for the three pucks she had on her, and the time she corrected his Twi’leki translation during a deal, diffusing an already heated situation before it could become more volatile. They’d only met in the first place because his ship had crash landed on Yavin 4, and he needed to offload and hide the contraband cargo he was carrying before whoever it was that shot him down found it or him- she was never sure which outcome would have been worse because luckily, neither had happened. She had found him instead.

The network of tunnels and caves deep within the jungle that had kept her family safe for years had also proven to be the perfect place for a smuggler to stash his goods. If Navina hadn’t shown up a few days later for her annual visit, he’d have gone completely undetected, possibly for years. She may have never found him at all. But that’s not how it went. Navina smiled to herself every time she recalled that day. Attacking on instinct, it had taken almost no time at all for her to see that this intruder was no trained fighter. She had him disarmed and pinned with his then hairless cheek pressed to the cool stone wall as she clasped his wrist behind his back in one hand, his blaster in the other. A severely muffled “Um… I can explain everything,” had been the first words he’d ever said to her, and they had set the tone for a friendship that she wouldn’t trade for all the credits that ever passed through Imperial hands.

“Alright then,” she tilted her chin up to peer at her taller companion. “If you’re not being followed and there’s no trouble to worry about?” She paused, giving him one last chance to come clean. Laughing, he just shook his head. “Why didn’t you stick to the plan? I come to you, that’s how it’s always been.”

“Yeah,” another burst of laughter pushed past his lips. “Ever since the first time, right?” He reached up with the arm that was still around her shoulders, tugging at her braid. That earned him a quick smack in the gut from the back of her hand, only causing more rumbling chuckles to erupt.

“And you were lucky it was me that found you, bantha brain, and not whoever it was that you ticked off.” Just like I was lucky that Firo found me when… Absently, the hand she’d just hit him with fell to her waist, where beneath her clothing a long jagged scar crossed her body. Before a chill could settle in her bones, Firo’s warm grin poked dimples into his cheeks and he swiveled his head down to look at her. Why does he look so kriffing happy? She was only slightly suspicious of her friend’s behavior though, his elevated mood and obvious excitement almost contagious.

The gold flecks that shot through his green eyes shone as his cheeks rose up into them with his smile. “This time I...have something for you.”

They were nearly there. Navina could see the brighter shafts of light coming through the trees and bushes as they thinned out closer to the cave mouth. “You have something for me?” She scrunched her face up questioningly. “What does that- why couldn’t you just...give it to me when I got there? What’s-”

“Because,” they climbed over a fallen tree in unison, the bottoms of their boots crunching on small gravelly rocks. “You need to see it, and it’s too dark down there.”

Finally reaching the entrance to their hideaway- to my...my home- Firo stepped away from her and dug something out of the back pocket of his brown pants. Navina slung the bag off her shoulder, setting it down at her feet in a clatter of metal. She watched closely as he brought the leather wrapped object between the two of them. What does he have?

“I found this two...no, three nights ago. When I first landed.” Squinting, she followed his fingers as they slipped under the flap of leather to uncover her gift. “Don’t know how I found it or why or…” He shook his head, the excitement still in his expression. “But as soon as I got down into the cave, soon as I was ready to settle in for the night? Something caught my eye and-”

Navina gasped, her hand flying to her mouth as he revealed his surprise. “Firo… is that?” Eyes widening, she let her hand fall away from her lips to reach out for the small blade that he held in his hands. Asking questions was some kind of default setting that her mind had scrambled to out of pure shock. She knew without a shadow of a doubt what she was looking at. That’s a beskar kal… The short dagger’s hexagon-shaped blade glinted dark silver in the light as Firo handed it to her. Her heart thudded heavily against her ribs as her left hand closed around the grip, the fingertips of her right hand tracing the rectangular cut out that ran the length of the small but lethal blade. But these markings… Looking closer, she sucked in another breath. “Firo...this was,” tearing her eyes from the dagger was difficult, but she did so to look up at him. “This belonged to my father.”

The shriek-hawk symbol that was engraved near the handle alone wouldn’t have identified this particular kal as her father’s. It was the addition of her mother’s clan’s signet, along with the tiny carved lettering that she could actually remember her father etching into the Mandalorian steel. Ina’ika.

“This will be yours one day, it’s only right that your name is added.” His rich voice echoed in her memory, punctuated by the scratching and clanging of his tools, the little sparks flying from the beskar mesmerizing her.

“Firo, I,” her eyes fell back to the dagger in her hands. “I never thought I’d see this again.” Twenty-three years. She hadn’t seen her father in Twenty-three years, and while she knew her mother was gone, she had never known for sure what had happened to her father. To my father or… But another thought sliced through, bringing with it a rush of hope that she knew was dangerous but couldn’t stop from flooding her anyway. “Firo, do you think that means… Do you think he was here? Recently?” The two of them had been back to Yavin countless times, and neither of them had ever found the blade. So why now? How?

“Hey, Nav, I...I dunno about… if your dad was- when the last time he was here was or…”Firo lowered his eyes so that he’d intercept hers. “I know that it belongs with you. And I knew you’d be happy to have it back. That’s all I-”

She didn’t let him finish though, launching herself at him in another forceful hug and being careful not to carve him up with her father’s dagger. “I know. I know you don’t know if he…” she sighed. I may have lost my family but… She pulled away then, brushing a tear away before she let it fully form. “Thank you, Firo.”

He smiled, the muscles in his face far more familiar with that formation than any other. “You’re welcome, Nav.” Not letting the moment become more emotional than he knew she’d be comfortable with, he picked up her bag and shouldered it. “Now, come on. We’ve got some...things to discuss.”

The mischief was back in his voice as Navina secured the kal in the inside pocket of her shawl. “Oh do we? What kind of things, trouble?”

“Well,” he began as they ducked to enter the cavern. “You said you needed a ship, right?” Navina confirmed, eyeing him with a sideways glance. “Well. Word is that the scraps of Imperial garbage that were stationed on Nevarro left in a big hurry.” Navina grinned, already liking where this was going. “Such a hurry,” Firo continued with a wink, “that they left some of their...equipment behind.”

“What a shame,” she answered. “All those ships just...sitting there with no one to fly them.”

“We really should do something about it, shouldn’t we?”

We should.

Not only would she and Firo both love to steal from the Empire, it would solve her transportation problem, and possibly get her closer to the information she’d been chasing. Whatever had caused the Empire to leave Nevarro in such a rush… Navina was sure that it had something to do with other Mandalorians.

Thank you for reading! Please feel free to let me know if you would like to be added to or removed from the tags! :)

tags: @something-tofightfor @alraedesigns @pheedraws @valkblue @malionnes @gollyderek

#resol’nare #the mandalorian fanfic #the mandalorian story #the mandalorian fic #din djarin fic #star wars fanfiction #mando x oc #din djarin x oc #this is the way #there is a lot happening in this chapter #but also not a lot at all #hmm #anyway #posting this story continues to make me nauseous so BYE!#pedro pascal characters

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honeymoonjin · 4 years ago

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hello sorry but this is goodbye from me on tumblr, explanation below , i love you all and i’m sorry but this is the best thing for me rn

first of all, i’m very sorry to all of the people who will be disappointed by this. tgm has been my baby for a long time, but recently it feels like this giant overwhelming work that will never be done, and if i’m perfectly honest i’m pretty sick of writing heterosexual sex. i still love the characters, and i wish sorely that my excitement and motivation could have lasted until the end, but i need to acknowledge that i’ve set this up as a primarily yn x member smut endeavour and i’m just really,,, over it. one thing people have said about my story is that they appreciate the discussions of safety, consent, and kink exploration. i am really sad that i couldn’t continue to explore it with you, but at the end of the day sex education isn’t my job and if y’all haven’t learnt the importance of consent and research by this point what more can i do 🗿

right now, i’m in the process of arranging employment for myself for 2021. all going well, i’ll be an english teacher in korea. with a full time job (and i plan on studying korean while i’m there too) i won’t have any time to write and i also don’t want the kind of mental burden of having an ongoing work. so for a while i’ve toyed with the idea of going back to writing my oneshots. i miss writing things like upstream colour and boseong breakfast, as much as i love tgm i am really guttered that in order to do it, i had to stop writing these pieces that i adore. creating a gentle world for gentle characters is one of my favourite things about writing, and it’s been far too long.

but honestly if i do that, i don’t even think i’ll do it as honeymoonjin. i love my hmj url and the relationships i’ve made while being sora have been really special to me. that being said, there has been a lot going on behind the scenes and it’s reached to a point where i just kinda wanna log out and escape it all. maybe i’ll make a new blog and go back to the delightful freedom of being nobody, maybe i’ll just post on ao3 and leave behind tumblr entirely, i really don’t know.

but there has been a LOT happening that hasn’t really surfaced on tumblr. i have no interest in making this a callout post or spilling tea or sparking drama or anything because fuck that stuff is exhausting and pointless and i’ve learnt that the hard way.

but i think i owe you all a little transparency.

i’ve become very disillusioned with the author environment here on tumblr. i’ve been involved in and have observed countless awful situations involving nets and admins, i’ve seen a whole lot of people who are only admin so that they have power and authority over others, and because of some pretty awful circumstances i had to leave the net that i co-created, which for a long time was my favourite thing to work on.

beyond that, there have been so many authors that i’ve looked up to first as writers and then for some as friends, only to find out some pretty shocking truths in the long run. seeing those people mistreat my friends, emotionally manipulate my friends, often directly lie. me a year ago had no idea how many nasty people there are, and that’s a real shame, because there are some incredible and generous and talented and kind people here too. i have the honour of being close with some of them, and if it weren’t for their support i would’ve left long ago.

but it’s all these negative experiences that have made staying on tumblr - at least as honeymoonjin - a less than enjoyable experience. every day there’s more drama or friendships crumbling or lies exposed and even beyond that, there are certain names and urls that make me feel upset and nauseous even seeing. blocking them doesn’t do much when they’re getting recced every second day in my server (not ur fault ppl from the villa, i still appreciate you all x) but i just feel like,,,, what’s the point suffering unnecessarily?

i’m far too tired to try and name names and change things because i actually don’t think they ever will. i know who my friends are and i’ll keep close once i leave, but as far as i’m concerned it’s time for me to leave.

i want to thank you all for your support over this year and a half i’ve been writing. this has been a hugely enlightening experience in every way and i don’t have many regrets. i’m sorry that i didn’t get to clean up my loose ends but i just feel so unhappy here these days and that’s the sad truth.

it has nothing to do w my readers, i still am so grateful for you and love chatting with you, but i need a clean slate.

i love you all, and my heart is so heavy to say goodbye, but it’s time for me to be selfish and firmly put myself first.

stay safe and healthy, fight for your own happiness even if it doesn’t come easy, and take control of your experiences.

i have loved this and loved you all,

bye bye,

sora xxx

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blueskrugs · 4 years ago

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5 Times You Posted about Him, and One Time He Posted about You | Chris Kreider

I sent an anon to @kreiderrider way back at the end of April for Chris’ birthday and still haven’t stopped thinking about it, so apparently I’m writing it now. also for @bobohtuzzo for our never-ending loop of being mean to each other with Chris gifs.

TL;DR: this is Taylor’s fault for making me a Kreider girl, and and both hers Bayan’s fault for encouraging and enabling me.

length: 2.8k words

You knew when you started dating Chris that he was not social media’s biggest fan. And that was fine. You were hardly an influencer yourself, and you were pretty sure you followed more dogs than people on Instagram. So the pictures you took of Chris– Chris being cute, Chris doing mundane things, Chris with his bitchface on– stayed firmly in a locked album on your phone.

Until one day when you were sitting on the couch, leaning against Chris while he read a book, flipping through Instagram stories on your phone. One of your friends from high school had posted a cute picture with her boyfriend, and you paused to look at it. Chris rested his chin on your shoulder to peer at your phone.

“They’re cute,” he murmured, pressing a quick kiss to your shoulder. You hummed in agreement. “How come you never post about me?”

You twisted around to look at him. “First of all, how do you even know that I don’t? Second of all, you want nothing to do with any sort of social media.”

Chris flicked your nose. “Mika tells me things. And I don’t hate social media, I just don’t really get the point of it. Who the fuck cares what I’m doing every second of the day, who I got lunch with, where I got lunch? Anyway, I don’t really mind if you post about me every once in a while. I don’t want you to feel like you have to hide our relationship just because I avoid Instagram like the plague.” Chris pressed a kiss to your forehead to punctuate his sentence.

You settled back in against Chris, resuming your mindless scrolling, and looking forward to the first opportunity to show off your boyfriend.

Chef Chris Chris loved to cook. Part of it came from his absolutely ridiculous diet, you knew, but he also enjoyed the quiet time that cooking gave him, a way to be productive without requiring a ton of energy. The kitchens in either of your apartments were often filled with the smell of something good, for lunches, for dinners on nights off, for a quick meal after a game. Chris rarely let you help him with anything, which was fine because you preferred to bake, and it let you watch him.

There was something about watching Chris cook that you just adored. He would always end up so focused, a strange intensity in his eyes that resembled the look he sometimes got on the ice. But then you would say something– a stupid joke that you’d seen on the internet, a funny story from work, or a something ridiculous your dog had done that morning– and he would laugh, his eyes lighting up again, and his dimples showing.

Tonight, Chris was standing over the stove making a risotto. You had begged him for it during a rare full weekend off at home for the Rangers, and he had finally conceded. One of your playlists was playing softly in the living room, and you were perched on a barstool at the island, your dog curled beneath your feet. You weren’t sure if he wanted to be close to you, or if he was just waiting for Chris to give him a piece of chicken.

Chris was stirring the risotto intently, his tongue poking out the corner of his mouth a little bit. You were already scrolling through your phone, so you couldn’t resist snapping a quick picture for your Instagram story, simply throwing an emoji of a chef in the corner.

You were checking the views on your story later that night and responding to the few people that had replied to it, when Chris saw your phone screen.

“Hang on, gimme that,” he said, pausing the hockey game he was watching. “How did I not notice you take this?” He looked closer at your phone. “And how many fucking followers do you have, holy shit.”

You took your phone back, seeing that Brett Howden had asked why he didn’t get any dinner. “I got a bunch more after I started dating you,” you said. Chris looked concerned. “Don’t make that face, you dork. I don’t really care, and if I did, I could just make my account private.”

Chris still looked a little alarmed at the number of people who had seen him cook dinner, but he turned back to the hockey game, anyway.

Sing Us a Song There was a piano in Chris’ apartment. It was tucked away in the spare bedroom, and he avoided playing it when people were over, even when it was just the two of you. You had lamented that fact once, and Chris had said something about just wanting to spend all his time focused on you. You let it go, but that didn’t mean you weren’t dying to hear him play, especially since everyone who had could only compliment him.

It was nearly Christmas when you let yourself into Chris’ apartment with your spare key. The two of you had spent an entire weekend decorating, and the space was absolutely filled with Christmas spirit. You had been baking cookies, and you were dropping some off for Chris to bring home to Massachusetts and his family. You smiled as you heard the familiar chords of “Celebrate Me Home” echoing through the apartment. Your penchant for listening to Christmas music at all hours was beginning to rub off on Chris finally. You paused, though, when you realized that the voice drifting through the apartment was not Kenny Loggins, but Chris.

You set the cookies and your purse down gently on a counter, kicking off your snow boots and quietly making your way through the apartment. You peered around the doorway of the spare bedroom. Chris’ back was to you, since the piano faced the windows looking out over the city, as he continued singing. You slipped your phone out of your coat pocket and began recording. You made sure to keep quiet as Chris began playing “The Christmas Song.” You stayed there for a minute longer before putting your phone away and walking into the room.

Chris jumped a little as you put your hand on his shoulder. “Your hands are freezing, Christ, Y/N. How long have you been here?”

You kissed his temple. “Sorry. Just came to drop off cookies and couldn’t resist listening to you for a while. I wish you’d sing for me more often.” Chris blushed all the way up to his ears.

Later that night, back home and with a pie in the oven this time, you edited the videos you took a little bit and put them up on your Instagram story. You left it captionless.

Your DMs were soon filled with people commenting on how talented Chris was and begging for more videos of him. You screenshotted them all– maybe a little smugly– and sent them to Chris. All you got back was an emoji sticking its tongue out at you.

Somewhere on a Beach There was absolutely nothing that you loved more than a good vacation. As the Rangers’ bye week approached, Chris was getting desperate to get out of the city, and you were looking forward to a week on a beach.

The Rangers won their last game before the break, and then the two of you were on a plane to Hawaii for some valuable time in the sun. Chris had found a rental with a private stretch of beach, and you both had bags full of books to read.

“Chris, you need to put on sunscreen!” you yelled as he walked across the sand, sunglasses perched on his nose and book in hand, on the first day. He had complained but let you cover him in sunscreen; he got burnt anyway.

Mika made a crispy potato joke later that night in response to Chris’ whiny text.

You got a couple good Instagram posts out of the vacation. One was simply pictures of you that you had made Chris take– “like a good Instagram boyfriend, babe” – plus a couple well-executed timer shots of both of you on the beach: sandy toes, sunburnt nose. The other was a small collection of photos you took of Chris throughout the week, in various positions in various chairs, all with a different book. Your favorite was the time you had caught him asleep on the beach, book still clutched precariously in his hand, mouth hanging open as he burned in the sun. I will never understand how he can read a book a day and still never run out of books, you had typed as a caption.

Dog Lover Chris was sick. You were sure he had been fighting through shit for nearly two weeks but had been too stubborn to admit it, and he had finally hit a wall. You had caught him leaning heavily against the bathroom sink that morning, dizzy and nauseous, as he attempted to get ready for practice; it still took both you and Mika yelling at him, with more than one threat to call Quinn and/or his mother, before he agreed to stay home.

You had forced him to at least eat a piece of toast before you let him collapse on the couch under most of the blankets you had in your apartment. You sent Mika a picture of Chris in his fever haze, zoned out while watching the morning news.

You luckily had the day off, so you were able to stay close to your idiot boyfriend with a penchant for ignoring injury and illness. It started storming after you ate lunch, rain lashing against the windows and lightning lighting up the dark New York sky, shrouded with clouds. Chris was still slouched on one end of the couch, barely having moved all morning. You were sitting at the other end with a book, his feet in your lap and thumb idly rubbing circles on his ankle, having ignored Chris’ protests that you were going to get sick, too.

Later, when you were making dinner, you peeked into your living room to check on Chris. He had thrown most of his blankets onto the floor, and he was sprawled out on his stomach, solidly asleep. Your dog had crawled up onto the couch with him and was laying protectively over Chris’ legs. You smiled at them before reaching for your phone to take a picture.

First you sent it to Mika: “Sometimes I think he’s only dating me for my dog.” with an eye roll emoji. Mika laughed at that one.

Then you posted it on your Instagram, this time with the caption everyone knows dog cuddles are the best medicine. Your replies were flooded with get-well wishes for Chris.

Best Friends Everyone knew that Mika and Chris were pretty much inseparable, both on the ice and off of it. You and Irma had bonded over it one night, when what was supposed to be a nice double date devolved into Chris and Mika discussing the chances of various teams winning the Cup. It had only been November.

You teased the two about their codependency, but honestly it was endearing. Mika ended up over for dinner more nights than not, and you texted him more than you texted your mom. Mika sometimes crashed movie nights at Chris’ apartment, and all three of you ended up in a tangled mess of limbs and blankets before the end of the night without fail. It was completely undeniable that Chris loved Mika, so it was inevitable that you loved Mika, too.

The Rangers were having another outdoor practice in Central Park. You loved going to any practice, but the outdoor ones were especially fun to watch. It always seemed like half of New York showed up to watch, and the boys were always more energetic and idiotic than usual.

You hung around close to the boards behind one of the goals during practice. You got some good pictures of the boys warming up, including one particularly cute one of Artemi sticking his tongue out at you. As practice went on, you took more pictures as various Rangers sped past you. The best opportunity was when Chris scored a – frankly ridiculous, honestly – goal over Hank’s shoulder, set up perfectly by Mika. They slammed into the boards next to you in celebration, and you managed to snap a great angle of that smile Mika seemed to reserve specifically for Chris.

All of the WAGs and families were allowed onto the ice after practice ended. You carefully made your way over towards where Chris and Mika were lazily leaning against the boards near one of the benches, nearly running over tripping over Igor’s dog in the process when he ran in front of you, gleefully dragging a leash behind him.

Chris was facing you, but he didn’t see you approach. You, however, could see the dorky grin he had aimed at Mika from where he was slouching against the wall. As you got closer, you took out your phone and snuck one more picture of the two of them.

You couldn’t resist posting those pictures of your boys. You made sure to tag Mika, adding on the caption someone tell me how I can get a boy to look at me the way Chris and Mika look at each other.

Mika replied with an eye roll emoji and a blue heart. Irma replied with about five cry-laughing emojis. Chris just looked offended.

His Turn Chris had managed to convince you to join him for a week in Connecticut, and you had managed to convince him to let you drive up. He grumbled about it all the way out of the city.

You had your sunglasses on and your hair was loose around your shoulders. Chris’ phone was plugged into your aux, but he had turned on your own road trip playlist. (He complained about your taste in music most of the drive, too.) As you got closer to Connecticut, Chris rolled the windows down. Every once in a while, you glanced over at him, only to already find him watching you with a smile on his face, eyes crinkly and dimple showing.

You were singing the words to a Taylor Swift song at the top of your lungs, laughing as the wind ripped the words from your throat and out the window, when Chris reached over and picked up your phone. You turned to look at him.

“Eyes on the road,” he scolded, still holding your now-unlocked phone. You raised an eyebrow but turned back to the highway in front of you.

The song changed again, this time to a Queen song, and you laughed again. Chris started singing along with you, and you forgot that he had been taking a picture of you.

Later that night, long after the sun set, you got a notification that you had been tagged in a new Instagram post, by @2kreids0. You squinted at your phone screen, confused. You were sitting out on the porch under the stars, and Chris had gone in for dessert (something still stupidly healthy– “It’s the offseason, Kreider!” you had protested) only a couple minutes before.

Still frowning a little, you tapped on the notification. A picture of yourself, with the sun in your face and hair blowing out the window, laughing, eyes bright underneath your sunglasses, filled your screen. It could only have been taken by Chris in your car earlier. You looked at the Instagram handle again.

“Hey, babe?” you called as Chris stepped back outside, trying to balance two bowls and two glasses of wine. He looked up at you. “Did you make an Instagram?” Chris blushed. You looked back at the picture, this time reading the caption below it: I’ll drive anywhere with you, just to hear you sing your favorite songs.

Chris had moved to stand next to you, still blushing to the tips of his ears. “I might have.” You laughed, taking your glass of wine from Chris’ hand and pulling him down for a kiss.

“I thought you didn’t see the point?” you asked.

Chris shrugged. “I didn’t. Then you started posting pictures of me all the time, and I started to understand why people share the things they love for everyone to see.”

“You’re a sap, Kreider,” you said, all fondness. You smiled at him from behind the rim of your wine glass as he took another picture of you. “Is this what I’m like?” you asked. Chris let out a surprised laugh.

The next morning you were tagged again by Chris. You rolled your eyes. When you opened the notification, you saw the picture from the night before, but there was also a second one, one you didn’t know Chris had taken. It was of you, of course, but you were glaring at something on your phone over your coffee mug, glasses on and hair a mess. This time he had captioned it get you a girl who can do both.

“Christopher!” You were already beginning to regret showing him exactly how to work Instagram the night before. As you heard Chris laughing his way down the stairs, though, you thought that you could really get used to it, even if Chris probably had some revenge posts in store for you.

#cait writes things #chris kreider #chris kreider fic #chris kreider imagine #nhl fic #nhl imagine #hockey fic

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allicekitty13 · 5 years ago

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The Shopaholic And The Emo.

A Twilight fanfic I started almost a decade ago. I recently got back into the fandom and am trying to revive this :)

Summary:

Alice Brandon is lonely. Watch what happens when she finds common ground in fellow weirdo Jasper Whitlock.

Find on: AO3

FF.Net

Full story under the read more.

Notes:

Hi, so this is my first upload to AO3. I originally posted this on FF.net roughly 10 years ago with my then best friend. I’m working to bring it up to date and make it more readable. It will be a work in progress as there were quite a few plot holes we didn’t see at 15. But that being said it was well received when it was first posted and I hope to make it even better.

And Katie, The Bella to my Alice. If you see this and it catches your eye… I’m sorry, for everything. I’m not sure how to contact you, or what I would even say. But I miss you everyday. I truly hope one day we can be friends again, maybe we can even finish this together.

Now enough preamble on with the show!

(See the end of the work for more notes.)

Work Text:

I was in the cafeteria eating lunch with Bella and Rosalie. Well, to be honest with myself, I was definitely trying to eat lunch with Bella and Rosalie. It was made a bit difficult by Rosalie unabashedly flirting with a new student she’d met that morning. I quickly decided it would be easier to finish my meal without the distraction and began to scope the outdoor seating area for another table. It didn’t take me long to spot an unfamiliar face in the corner sitting under a tree. He was by himself with no lunch tray absentmindedly paging through a book. I decided today was a good day to make a new friend and made my way over.

“Alice?” I heard the voice of one of my best friends from behind me. I turned to see Edward, who had clearly just left the lunch line. “Where are we going?”

“Well, I don’t have the slightest idea where you’re going, but I’m getting far away from your cousin and her new friend.” I gestured to our usual table where my step sister was staring at us. “Look, Rose is making me a bit nauseous. I’m going to try and make some new friends. Go sit with Bella, we both know she doesn’t like being alone with Rose.”

Edward followed my gaze and nodded in agreement. “You make a good point, I’ll see you later.”

“Bye,” I giggled, watching him dutifully stride over to Bella’s side. I then turned and continued over the mysterious boy under the tree. “Mind if I sit here?”

He curiously looked up at me. “Sure, I guess.” He tentatively responded with a smooth southern drawl. Delighted, I sat criss-cross in the grass across from him. He’d looked interesting from across the way, but being up close gave me pause. He had near glowing blonde hair and crystal green eyes. He wore long sleeves despite the August heat. “So… are you just going to stare at me or…?”

“I’m sorry,” I muttered, feeling myself begin to blush.

“Are you really? Because if you’ve come over here to make fun of me, you can take your leave.”

“No!” I exclaimed. “I’m sorry. I really didn’t come over here to be mean. Look, we’re off to a bad start. My name is Alice Brandon.”

He took a moment and looked at me appraisingly. “Jasper Whitlock.”

“Oh, Whitlock. Is Emmett your brother then?” I gestured over at Rosalie and the boy.

He nodded, “Yeah, you a friend of his? Did he send you to check on me?”

“Honestly, I haven’t had much of a chance to talk to him. Although, it seems he and Rosalie are getting along well.

"Who’s Rosalie?”

“I guess, a friend? She’s Edward’s cousin, so we hang out. Honestly, we don’t really get along. She thinks I’m weird, and I think she’s a bitch.” I giggled.

“Edward, Your boyfriend?”

“Oh, Lord, no!” I had to laugh. “No, he’s been my neighbor and best friend since we were kids. Also, he’s dating Bella, my step-sister.”

“Cool”

“You don’t talk much, do you?”

“I don’t” He smiled. “You do, don’t you.”

“Generally. To be fair, you’re quite easy to talk to.”

“Thanks, I think.”

“So… why did you think I came over to make fun of you? And why would your brother send me to check on you.”

“You ask a lot of questions, Alice Brandon.” He said as the bell rang, signaling the end of lunch.

“Well it was nice talking to you, I hope we have some classes together.” I stood and made my way over to the locker I shared with Bella.

“Hey, girl.” She said as she grabbed her books. “So, what was with you at lunch?”

“For real!” Rosalie chimed in as she opened her own locker. “You totally ditched us for that weird kid.”

“I don’t know… he seemed lonely and interesting.” I gave her a look of suspicion. “Why? You haven’t been giving him a hard time, have you?” I didn’t hate Rosalie. But she was pretty, and she knew it. She had this habit of being awful to people if she thought they were beneath her.

“Ugh, you have got to be kidding me, he’s a weirdo sweetie.”

“Weren’t you the one who said we should make the school a welcoming environment to new students?”

“When did I say that?”

“3rd-period gym when you ditched me as your partner for Emmett!”

“Ok, you’re going to make me late and arguing causes wrinkles. Just don’t become weirder than you already are. It’s embarrassing enough hanging around you already.” She flipped her hair with a note of finality and strutted off to her next class.

“Look, Alice,” Bella said, “I think it’s sweet that you have a crush on that kid, don’t listen to Rose.”

“Who said anything about a crush?” I rolled my eyes, and we took off down the hall. “I just thought he seemed interesting. Besides, Rosalie was making me a bit sick.”

“Whatever you say, sweetie,” She laughed as we turned into history. She managed to trip over her own feet and slid into her shared desk with Rosalie, knocking everything off in the process.

“BELLA!” Rosalie screeched. “What are you doing! Anyway, I need you to sit somewhere else today. I promised Emmett my seat.”

“I mean, Ok then…”

“You can sit with me, Bella.” Edward swooped in, seeing the uncomfortable look on his girlfriend’s face. “Assuming Alice is fine with giving up her seat.”

Bella shot me a pleading look, and I gave in. “Fine, but I won’t be happy about it.” I took a look around the room and spotted an empty seat next to none other than Jasper. “Actually, this might be Ok.”

“Why the sudden change of heart?” Edward asked.

“Our little Alice has a little crush on Emmett’s brother.” Bella laughed.

“Oh my God, Bella! First of all, he has a name. It’s Jasper. Secondly, I don’t have a crush on him! I’m just trying to make new friends.” I shot her a look a headed off his direction. “Hey Jasper, mind if I sit with you again? See, Rosalie gave your brother Bella’s spot. So Edward gave Bella my spot, which I guess is Ok cause I like talking to you. Well, I guess I like talking at you because you don’t really say much. But I guess the point is, do you mind if I sit here?”

“Did you breath at all there?”

“No? I’m sorry, I talk too much. I can shut up. Unless you don’t want me to shut up. Cause I can talk for hours, I…”

“Alice. It’s fine. Sit… and maybe breathe.” I took a deep breath and slid into the seat next to him. “I actually don’t mind talking to you.” He paused. “Maybe we should hang out sometime if you’re going to be following me around anyway.”

“Oh, I’m sorry if you think I’m following you around. I can leave you alone if you’d like.”

“Alice, I was joking. About the following me around, not the hanging out.”

“Oh,” I smiled “Sure, we should go to the mall sometime or something.”

“MISS BRANDON!” My attention was grabbed by a loud voice calling my name from the front of the room. “I do believe we’ve discussed you’re talking in my classroom.”

“Of course, Mr. Binns. I’m sorry.”

“And Mr. Whitlock, not a good first impression. I assume it won’t happen again.” With that, he turned to the whiteboard and resumed his lesson. I lowered my head and began taking notes. After a moment, Jasper slid a note over to me. ‘Thanks for getting me in trouble in my favorite class ;)’ I blushed and tried to pay attention.

The class seemed to drag on, but eventually, the bell rang. “Hey,” Jasper turned to me as we were collecting our things. “I hope you know I’m not really upset. The note and all.”

“Yeah, the analog emoji kind of tipped me off. I am sorry for getting you in trouble. I’m terrible in history, so Mr. Binns and I don’t really get along. I think he takes it personally. He’s been here so long I’m pretty sure he’s lived most of it.” I laughed at my own terrible joke.

Jasper smiled at me. “Well, I wasn’t kidding when I said it’s my favorite. Maybe I could tutor you?”

“I’d like that,” I said, “Here I’ll give you my number, we could set something up.”

Notes:

I just want to say that, at this point the title has little to do with the actual story. Emo was a much bigger trend when this was originally written. I don’t talk to the co-writer much anymore and I’m tentative to make many changes to things she originally came up with, such as the title.

I hope you’ve enjoyed reading this, if anyone has any constructive comments I’m happy to hear them. Thank you for taking the time to read this work.

Oh, and props if you caught the Harry Potter reference.

#Jalice #alice cullen #jasper hale #Twilight #fanfiction

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udnursingsa2019 · 6 years ago

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Final Blog

As I sit on the plane at 4AM eating my Aero bar (a South African delicacy), tiny moments of the last five weeks keep popping into my head. I think about entering JFK airport feeling nauseous and anxious about leaving the country for so long, seeing familiar faces but not having a clue if I would become close friends with any of them. I think about arriving to the Team House at Noordhoek and being greeted with Jeremy’s speech — he told us we could not save Africa but if we could make a difference in one person’s life, we are doing something worthwhile. I think about being apprehensive for the first clinic day expecting to feel a little lost, until I realized the sisters are some of the kindest people ever and are so willing to teach/ask for help at the same time. I think about the look of pure joy on a group of teenage girls’ faces after some peers and I taught sex/relationship-education at school — they’d always had the questions but never had the opportunity to talk to someone to get the answers, and seeing that we made some of that difference makes my heart warm. And I think about the town Soweto, and a celebration between two different cultures as we sat in a circle with local adults and had a productive conversation about the effects of apartheid and global politics, and afterwards we had a dance party. It’s that “connected” feeling that makes me think we have been making positive impacts on the people we’ve met because the people of South Africa have absolutely touched our hearts forever. Many of them live by the phrase “Ubuntu” which means “I am because we are” — they learned it from the animals who work together as packs — I think that just shows the full circle of how Africa is the one of the best places on earth.

Our last night was difficult but cathartic and necessary. After our last delicious safari dinner we all went around in a circle and stated our roses (our favorite parts of the trip), our thorns (least favorite) and our buds (what we can grow from). Many of the roses included the community days where we bonded with people of all ages and helped out in schools or kitchens/workshops, such as the reusable pads training day where we got to work together with so many women. Others mentioned the Soweto township day or their best experience in clinical (like when Carly V. and Sara delivered a baby and placenta!), and some mentioned their favorite excursions like skydiving. Thorns were when things got emotional — sometimes it’d be something funny like treacherously hiking Table Mountain or getting a stomach bug, but others rightfully wanted to let out emotions about something they’d seen in clinical that they wish they could’ve done more for, such as the group that experienced the death of a preterm baby born at home who probably would have lived if the clinic had the appropriate resources. Other thorns included the guilt we feel when we realize how privileged many of our lives are, and the overwhelming lack of knowing what to do in response when we see how many people need help. I believe this trip made many of us second-guess our career choices and what we want to make of our lives; for certain this trip has inspired lots of us to give back more and if we can’t go back to Africa and help the people there, there are ways we can help at home. Many of us turned our thorns into buds because lots of the bad things we experience are ways to make us grow. But lots of us also mentioned for buds the friends we have made and just the beauty of the world and all the people in it, as we have seen the strength in the people of South Africa as well as the strength in each other. I have made lots of new friendships that I have no doubt will last throughout our last semester and post-graduation. Though we’re a group with a bunch of different personality traits, we bring out the best in each other and have such a fun dynamic that never gets old — I can’t count the amount of long car rides and late nights (even though we would wake up at the crack of dawn almost every day) spent talking and laughing for hours on end with my new friends. It really is so special to have these meaningful bonds during our last year as nursing students, because we need each other!

There are many people worthy of “thank you’s” and I will start with ourselves, because we were the ones who decided to apply to go to South Africa and had the courage to actually go through with it, and for me it was the best decision I’ve ever made. Thank you to my peers for making this trip so meaningful and unforgettable, through all the laughs and tears. I really am so proud of everyone for making this the best experience possible and constantly lifting each other up. And I’d also like to thank my parents and all the other parents who allowed us to go on the trip (we know it wasn’t easy) and helped out with some expenses.

I’d like to give a shout-out to our drivers, Roy and Sibusisu, who turned out to be more than drivers — they became friends. We will miss Roy’s sarcastic sense of humor and charm, and we’ll miss Sibu’s quiet, sweet presence. They are two of the most hardworking men and seriously deserve a medal for boundlessly dealing with 30 21-year-old girls!

Rowan and Bari have also been blessings to us — we wouldn’t have survived the trip if it weren’t for their constant direction, reliability and support. Rowan made sure everything went smoothly at all times and was in a tough position to be TA as a senior; we give her lots of credit for all she could help us with through her L&D/cultural knowledge and experience. Bari has been an inspiration to all of us, as she’s lived, worked and volunteered in South Africa before and we can see first-hand how wonderful of a human being she is/has become through her experiences. So thank you guys!

Lisa — thank you for making this trip happen and for being willing to take so many of us — I know it’s not easy to lug 30 students to another continent. I give you so much praise for making this trip happen year after year, building upon what you’ve learned from past trips but always introducing new ideas. You have always been someone we can look up to and this trip further proved how you truly inspire us to be the people/nurses that we want to be — not what a structured nursing program/basic American society tells us to be. You’ve taught us to follow our guts and our dreams and that life is too short to only do one kind of job in a place we don’t feel we’re thriving. You also have successfully spread the word about Mother Nature and natural childbirth — I would trust any of us to teach about or facilitate a physiologic birth and it’s all thanks to you.

And last but not least, thank you to Jeremy. When I met Jeremy, I had heard good things and he seemed nice and cool and funny, but I didn’t really think anything would come of him being there besides being our tour guide. But he was so much more than that. He became a close friend to many of us. He worked towards making this trip a life-changing, monumental experience for everyone. If it wasn’t for him, we wouldn’t be able to dig deeper and work to find the meaningful takeaways behind all the experiences we’ve had. He encouraged the group to really spend time together and support each other, because he knew we’d need it. He was a shoulder to cry on when we had a hard day, and a person to run to when we had a funny story because his laugh can just make our day. His life story and his presence are so uplifting that he’s touched each and every one of us and has inspired us all to be ourselves, make good choices that build our ultimate destiny, and cut out all negativity. Thank you for making us all better people, Jer. We truly will never forget you and can’t wait for you to come to the U.S. one day.

Now we’re all exhausted with puffy eyes from crying either last night or at the airport saying bye to Jeremy, but we’re excited to see our families.....and not quite ready to go to school in just a few days. Luckily we have a whole group of us to lift one another up during this period of post-study-abroad depression, but after a few weeks our lives will probably return to normal. So we must continue for weeks, months, years down the road to remember what it felt like to be in Africa, reflect upon the connections we built, and never forget the lessons we learned. We’re back in America, but Africa has never left us.

- Annie Sienrukos <3

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