#Flight Surgeon Course

[natsunes]

im sorry but this joke from yo ni mo kimyou na monogatari 2013 kills me every time. the guy on the plane who responds when asked if anyone on the plane is an anaesthesiologist (masuii) and ends up participating in emergency surgery despite actually being a manga editor. hes just called masui. its his name. nothing can convey the emotion of tada no masui da (pictured above)

[meangirltogoodgirls]

the only surgeon you could find in your budget was out of state, so i agreed to let you crash at my place nearby while you recovered from top surgery. i picked you up from the airport, joked around as we waited in baggage claim. you felt comfortable.

it wasn't until we got to the car that you started to get nervous. i'd stopped smiling and laughing as much, gone quiet. inside the car, the drive was silent. you started to get goosebumps.

when i pulled off the highway onto an empty rural road, you started sweating. when i parked, you panicked.

i put a stop to that.

finally, i got you calmed down and i explained the situation. in short, you had a very simple choice. you could strip naked and lock your clothing in the trunk for the remainder of the drive, or you could find another ride and place to stay. outside, it started to rain.

you cried and threatened and screamed and cried some more. of course. but what could you do, really? you'd put yourself in a very vulnerable position and we both knew it.

when you got back in the passenger seat, you were shaking so hard your tits were jiggling. it would be such a pleasant view as we drove for hours out to my home in the country. you told me you put in for 3 weeks' off from work. just enough time to teach you why transitioning isn't the right choice for you. i've got a feeling you might be missing your flight back, though.

[writingquestionsanswered]

do u have any sort of website that can tell me jobs in a small town? trying to write a story set in a small town but i cant come up with any ideas for jobs apart from the essential ones like police or hospital

Jobs in a Small Town

Government: mayor, city manager, city council member, city attorney, city clerk, code enforcement officer, customer service representative, finance director, fire chief/firefighter, paramedic, human resources manager, information technology department, librarian, municipal court clerk/administrator/judicial specialist/court security officer, parks and recreation director, planning and zoning director, police chief/officer or sheriff/deputy, public works director, utilities clerk, wastewater plant operator

Business: business owner/operator or employee (such as a clerk, receptionist, manager, or administrator) at a shop, restaurant, cafe, gas station, mechanic, tow truck, locksmith, landscaper/lawn care, handyman, florist, funeral home, pool cleaner, daycare center, grocery store, feed and pet store, car dealership, clothing boutique, ice cream parlor, liquor store, bar, nightclub, community theater, "big box store" (like Walmart), warehouse store (like Costco), movie theater, mini-golf course

Medical Services: hospital (administration, doctor, surgeon, nurse practitioner, nurse, nurse's aide, respiratory therapist, anesthesiologist, orderly, receptionist, lab worker, security, etc.) Doctor's office or urgent care (administration, doctor, nurse, nurse practitioner, receptionist, etc.) Dentist or orthodontist (administration, dentist/orthodontist, dental assistant, orthodontic assistant, receptionist, etc.) Nursing home/assisted living facility (administration, doctor, nurse, orderly, etc.)

Random: country club employee, dog walker, babysitter/nanny, home nurse, museum director/curator/specialist/employee, town archaeologist (if area is rich in history), industrial jobs (mining, factories/manufacturing, farming/crop production, fishing/fisheries), wedding coordinator, convention center director, attorney, judge, taxi driver, utility repair technician, railway worker, bus driver, school jobs (principal, teacher, teacher's aide, librarian, cafeteria worker, counselor, security officer, custodian), airport jobs (administrative, security, service provider/employee, airline worker, pilot, flight attendant, plane mechanic)

That's all I've got at the moment, but keep an eye on the comments in case others come up with ideas! :)

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[precious-little-scoundrel]

WIP teaser

I got myself a lovely little request over a week ago for a Nurse!xBuck fic. Well, hi, it’s me, can’t not take that and run with it straight off the edge of the known world. I don’t even have a fixed name for it yet but I’ve been enjoying AU-ing our familiar faves to death with it

MOTA Pacific Theatre AU: yeah, you heard that right. Maybe it’s the anniversary of Iwo Jima currently happening or maybe it’s my ongoing crush on Ensign Jane Kendeigh, or -more likely- my subconscious awareness that nurse OC’s are a pretty favorited bunch for fandom writers, so I’ve found myself mixing it up entirely.

We’ve got Navy Flight Nurses and we’ve got Lt. Commander Doc Egan and co-pilots Cleven and Demarco who aren’t too fond of having to fly cargo planes full of wounded out of war zones all due to flight surgeon John Egan’s special request to have Cleven chauffeur him around. Oh yeah, and somehere in here there’s a developing thing between Cleven x oc Nurse!Ensign Maureen Kendeigh

TW: blood? Use of the word “Jap”

…

“You got it, commander.”

More than a little sure her mission was more provoking than necessary, Maureen still obeyed and followed Brady up the length of the plane and towards his station, then past it to poke her head between the pilots’ seats.

“Well, well, this is a pleasant surprise, getting car sick, kiddo?” Demarco joked, “Hey, I get it, I’d find it hell back there with no windows to look out.”

“Those mortars obligingly made a few.” Maureen joked back.

“Anybody hurt?” Cleven asked, and to her surprise, he turned from his panel to look at her with unmasked concern.

A joke was ready made there about everyone quite literally being shot to hell but she sensed he’d not appreciate it and following some uninterpreted impulse of desiring his good opinion, she hardly wished to repay his earnestness with flippancy. “Only one.”

“How bad?”

“He looked -dead.” Maureen admitted, she hadn’t gotten a good look at the man moving past him but she’d seen Egan’s treatment of the body and it wasn’t promising.

Cleven’s jaw worked overtime at the news and something snapped in his mouth, followed by a soft curse from lips too full and soft to always be so stern. Maureen thought he may have broken a tooth with all that tension but he spit out two halves of a bloodied toothpick instead. It fell to his pant leg.

“Major Cleven, sir, you’re bleeding.” It had drawn Maureen’s attention to his wet lap.

“That’s what I said.” Demarco agreed.

“It’s somebody else’s.” Cleven shook his head.

“You know if you pass out on me-“ Demarco warned, completely ignoring Cleven’s denial.

“-that’s why we’ve got co-pilots.” Cleven finished for him with a maddening smirk that made Benny Demarco throw his hands up.

“Can you check him?” he asked, “I mean -you are a nurse!”

“What? Hell no!” Major Cleven spooked for the first time all day at the suggestion, glancing quickly from his reddened trousers, behind him to Maureen Kendeigh, and back again. “I’m fine.” he declared in a firm tone that dettered her almost as much as the challenge of getting over the instruments and a steering column to pull down his pants and look. “Ensign Kendeigh, was there a purpose to your visit?” He redirected, resolutely ignoring Demarco’s unabated concerns.

“Yes sir,” she replied, meekly as she could, “Doc Egan asked me to remind you that you’re not flying a bomber. To mind the oxygen, sir. And that it’s cold.”

Cleven let out a mirthless little laugh. “We’re full of holes Ensign, of course it’s cold.”

“I know sir.”

“Yeah, ‘course you know,” his eyes lightened for a moment and Maureen almost deluded herself he was being chummy when he murmured next, “you’re smart like that. Tell the Lieutenant Commander I’ll keep her nice and low, so low the Jap navy gunners can blow the floor out without a sweat.”

“Thank you, Major.” Maureen chirped, pleased to have been trusted with a bit of morbid humor -it was the truest test of being taken seriously a woman could hope for in the service.

“Thank you, Ensign.” And with that she was dismissed.

[boundlessdaisy]

Merthur Only You AU hear me out:

A fortune teller tells young Arthur that his soulmate's name is Myrdinn Emrys. He buys into the idea for so so long.

But at 26 years old, now an English teacher, Arthur does end up proposing to his college girlfriend Gwen, a surgeon and colleague of his sister Morgana.

Anxious to start making wedding plans, Arthur comes to Gwen's office only to learn that she's in surgery. Impatient and bored, he answers her phone when it rings. Someone's secretary is calling to reschedule an appointment because her boss is going to Rome. Arthur takes the boss's name and, what do you know... Myrdinn Emrys.

Posessed by his hopeless romantic childhood, Arthur - upon learning from the secretary that her boss's flight leaves in 30 mins - runs to the airport to see his soulmate... but he misses the flight.

Feeling stupid, he attempts to reach Gwen again but her line is still busy so he calls Emrys' secretary instead and asks her where her boss is staying in Rome. Upon learning this, Arthur makes the impulsive decision to book the next flight out to Rome to meet his soulmate at last.

It's not until he's standing at Emrys' door, dressed to the nines, smelling like a flower shop, that he realizes how insane of a decision it was to come here. Christ, he couldn't just have Facebook'd her? What if she was married? He was getting married, dear God, what was he doing-- A lady opens the door. Blonde. Curvy. Was she a model? Arthur tries to stop himself from drooling and says, "Emrys? I'm Arthur," as if she would just recognize him. Well, she doesn't, and it turns out, she wasn't Emrys anyway.

She tells him Emrys won't be back until morning so Arthur packs it in for the night and says he'll come back tomorrow.

He oversleeps of course. He runs up to Emrys' room and knocks on the door. Someone's inside, thank God, says they'll be at the door in a moment. Finally, Arthur thinks, he's gonna meet Emrys. His soulmate. The woman of his dreams... is a man?

Merlin opens the door of his hotel room to see the most handsome man he had ever seen in his life... with the most disappointed look on his beautiful, beautiful face. "Can I help you?" Merlin asks. "No. No, sorry about the intrusion." Arthur replies and starts to turn away but Merlin stops him, "You seem upset." Arthur laughs. Yeah, he was upset. He tells Merlin how he flew a thousand miles to see a delusion he had when he was a kid, he really thought he would meet his soulmate, my God, he is twenty six-- Merlin presses him about it, "Soulmate?"

Arthur explains everything. How when he was a kid he went to a fortune teller and the fortune teller gave him a name. The name of his soulmate, and he held on to the idea for longer than he should and just as he thought he had fully let it go, turns out he didn't. He still believed his soulmate was out there. Hearing himself now, it sounds so ridiculous-- "What was the name?" Merlin asks. "No, forget about it, it's stupid--" "Come'on, tell me, I might know him. Who knows?" Arthur hesitates, but finally tells him, "Myrdinn Emrys." Merlin couldn't help but laugh. Arthur starts walking away in shame but Merlin stops him. "Hey, no, don't go. Listen." Merlin smiles at him, "I'm Myrdinn Emrys."

Okay, so Merlin lied. So what? Arthur likes him, or he's beginning to. Sure, he spent the first half of the day having a full on bisexual crisis, but Merlin methodically eased him out of it with a series of historical facts about ancient sodomy (just so happens to be the dissertation he's working on right now, actually) as they go around the most beautiful city in the world. Love is a strong word, but when Arthur kisses Merlin at the end of the night, he's feeling something dangerously close to that. They just fit so well together. It's like they've known each other all their lives.

They're in Merlin's hotel room when Arthur comes out with it. "I have to tell you something." Merlin keeps kissing him, "I know you're bisexual, and I'm proud of you--" "It's not that" Merlin gasps, "I knew it." "You do?" "You're secretly a prince of some faraway country who's running away from the limelight because you can't handle the pressure. No?" "Emrys. I'm engaged."

Arthur tells Merlin about Gwen, and how he proposed to her just because he thought it was what he was supposed to do. Sure, he loved her, but it just felt so... simple, what they had. It wasn't memorable. It wasn't what he thought his love life would be like. "What did you think it would be like?" Merlin asks him and Arthur admits, "Like... this. Like a cheesy romantic comedy where I rush to the airport and follow you out to Rome without question because I knew. I knew I was meant to be here. I knew I was meant to meet you and.. and kiss you. I knew ever since I heard your name-- Oh god, I have to call off my wedding."

Arthur grabs his phone and calls Gwen at once but before the call could go through, Merlin stops him. "Wait. Wait. Before you do this. I have to tell you something." He takes Arthur's face in his hands and says intently, "I'm supposed to be in England right now. Ten hours into an all-nighter at the only cafe in campus that's open at this hour; I'm supposed to be alone and miserable, but instead I'm here, with you, in Rome for crying out loud, during the best day of my life, because my colleague got sick and they had to ship me to the conference instead-- and because you're my soulmate. Do you believe that?" "I do..." "But..." "But what?" "But my name... isn't Emrys. My name is Merlin."

Arthur. storms. off. Oh my god. He was going to cancel his whole damn wedding for this... fantasy! He flew to goddamned Rome like an idiot, and for what? Just to make a fool of himself that's what. Merlin's tailing him saying things like "Arthur, come on, it's just a name!" and "What's in a name?!" as if quoting Shakespeare would make everything better. He just hated himself for buying into all of it. Of course there was no such a thing as a soulmate, just as there was no such a thing as Myrdinn Emrys.

Or at least that's what he thought until he's about to get on a plane home and someone pages Myrdinn Emrys. He tries to let it go, he really does. Who cares? Even if it was a real person, he or she wouldn't be his soulmate because soulmates aren't real. They keep paging Emrys and Arthur keeps trying to act like he doesn't hear it, but he does hear the footsteps running up to their boarding gate and the flight attendants saying "Myrdinn Emrys?" and, dammit, he couldn't help himself. He turns around, it's a beautiful woman, brunette, she looks just his type... but all Arthur could think about, as the woman he'd been waiting for all his life stood before him, was how disapponted he was that she wasn't Merlin.

Because Arthur does live in a cheesy romantic comedy where someone rushes to the airport to follow someone anywhere without question, who else does he see just outside the boarding gates but Merlin. The attendant asks him if he's getting on the plane or not. "Of course not," Arthur responds, and runs out to meet the love of his life where he stood.

Merlin starts shouting an explanation before Arthur even gets to him, "I'm changing my name. Legally. I don't care what my name is. It's gonna be a very weird conversation with my mom but if that's what it takes--" "Shut up, Merlin," Arthur pulls him into a kiss, which Merlin interrupts. "What about Myrdinn Emrys?" "God, don't make me say it." "Say what?" Exasperated, Arthur says, "What kind of name is Myrdinn Emrys anyway?" He tries to pull Merlin back into the kiss but Merlin interrupts again, teasingly this time. "It's Welsh. It means immortal. It's from these legends, around the 1200s, there was this magician--" "Merlin." "Yes?" "I can't believe I want to kiss you so bad."

On their flight back home, Arthur exclaims, "Oh shit." "What?" "I forgot to call off my wedding!"

[joeyalohadream]

Last Line Tag

This is certainly more than a line, more of a snippet, but I'm excited for this one and figured I'd share a bit. This is from my WIP (one of too damn many) about Bucky learning about combat fatigue from a Flight Surgeon and having realizations that Buck already exhibits some of the signs.

Thanks for the tag @onyxsboxes

“I told you all about my ma, my sisters.” “Well, I haven’t had a mom since I was a boy, and I don’t have any siblings.” Frustration is starting to leak into Gale’s tone and Bucky considers backing off the conversation and just enjoying the bliss of their first post-reunion tryst. Gale is still sweaty and sated, resting on his chest and it would be easy to let it go. But his mind has been tangled up about this for weeks and he can’t bring himself to give up so easily. “Tell me about your dad then,” he runs his fingers down Gale’s spine, fingers gliding easily over the sweat slick skin. He feels Gale tense against him. “No.” Bucky tries not to feel hurt by the finality in his tone. Tries not to take it personally that the person he wants to tell everything, won’t tell him anything. “Why?” “Why won’t you tell me what it was like up there?” “That’s not the same thing, Buck.” “What if it is?”

Tagging: @rambleonwaywardson and @ranger-elizabeth if you'd like to do it! and of course, anyone else that wants to share!

[bunny584]

bunny, beautiful, angel of my lifeeee 🤍🤍 i need just a CRUMB from this upcoming H&H chapter. I’m still reeling from that back handed slap (with the tenderest forehead kiss) that was ch. 15 🥺 like my little delicate soul can’t withstand this any longer (but of course, your genius takes time, i can’t kiss that big brain of yours enough)!! I have no idea where I was going with this ask or what i’m babbling about anymore, just know i have the most doe-eyed crush on you. Okay byeeee!!

(p.s. thank you for all that you do as a surgeon!! i hope you have an amazing next shift!!!!)

- babbling anon

Well hi baby 😊 you’re new here, welcome home sweet thing.

Time is such a fickle thing isn’t it? I didn’t realize just how long it’s been since my last update. I’m 90% done. Just ironing out one little pesky scene.

But, my love. Ask and you shall receive. HERE is a fluffier sneak peak I leaked mid flight. This’ll warm you up top.

And here is another little biscuit, hopefully this’ll warm you down below. What’s that scripture again?

I want two boyfriends and I want my boyfriends to be boyfriends 🙂‍↕️🙂‍↔️

[thedivided]

Gabrielle Cole - tracking device

Jack Sato - stealthy

Elijah Songaa - breathrough

Seoung Kwan - spiritual connection

Makoto Shizuka - shortcut

Cora Madden - investigative eye

Adriana Penn - self control

Yara Valle - second wind

Taylor Dalton - good teacher

Callum - team spirit

Yronica (( I forgot how to spell her last name )) - egocentric leech

Eman Attia - evanesce

Aaaqil Che - adaptability

Amari Tamiyyah - vagrants trick

Emery Rivera - disappearing act

Jun Inagaki - tough

Eiji Inagaki - old camera

Chaoxing Lai - xingxings mic

Gavin Prescott - gavins pistol

Becca Prescott - sole survivor

Rayner Byrne - rayner's shield

Crosby Aldrich - royal rule

Serena 'Sera' Vera - smooth skating

Jonas Weber - sanity soda

Nami Deng - hard times

Mamo Ikaika - mamos bat

Dakota Nicole - flame spray

Crystal Kaur - clear quartz

Sanjana Dewan - quiet steps

Kelvin Mars - sonar dart (( ? ))

Arlo Flores - healers touch

Iris Daley - pot of life

Saadiya Ali - course control

Anais Desir (( ? )) - complete control

Kiara Cruz - life of the party (( ? ))

Sarah - lone wolf

Yvonne Kojo - fight or flight (( ??? ))

Elizabeth Payne - self assurance

Lyndon Davenport - rauhm

Dante Fontana-Rosa - plane of elysium

Serena Wolfe - hunters instinct

Kyle Wolfe - bear trap

Yeona Jeung - obsessed

Yan Tian - detection machine

Ryder - detail oriented

Riley West - cheap thrill

Dae-Jung Pak - charm

Dakari Bowens - heal gun

Tabitha Harris - maternal instinct

Wren Harris - menial work

Parker - triple mocktail

Nathan Reyes - wits end

Emil - inspire

Evelyn Maurelle - dirty work

I can also name a few killer abilites

Werewolf - feral rage (active) / the hunt (passive)

Polluted - oil trail (active) / corruption consumes (passive)

ghost - blood phase (active) / sixth sense (passive)

Principal - extended strike (active) / hall pass (passive)

Showstopper - foul play (active)

Apostate - salvation (passive)

Watcher - watchful eye (active)

Janitor - worked ground (active) / no escape (passive)

Experiment - deep terror (active) / aftershock (passive??)

Surgeon - swift strikes (active) / surgical precision (passive)

Idol - you're mine (active) / obsessive nature (passive)

Host - ice trap (active)

Unforgotten - malefic shadows (active) / manifest (passive?)

Android - technological eye (active) / automation (passive)

explodes

NERDD

ill list off what i remember, using the same list as you but some grouped together. Ill also only list what actually brought them to the mist

Gabrielle - tried making a ghost tracker gone wrong

Jack - last delivery of the night gone wrong

Elijah - only survivor of a camp massacre caused by banshee

Seoung - messed up a ritual and summoned ghost?

Makoto - fell asleep on a subway while going to a new job

Cora - all i remember is she was skeptical of people? and she lost her mom i think

Adrianna - dont remember, ive read it though

Yara - havent read it

Taylor - havent read it

Callum, Yronica, Aaaqil, Eman - detention, almost got killed by principal?

Amari - plane crash

Emery - pushed into the mist by showstopper

Jun - forgot

Eiji - forgot

Chaoxing - havent read, i think she disappeared while going offstage at a concert? Yara or Taylor followed her i think idk….

Gavin + Parker - car crash?

Becca - babysitting job turned final girl situation

Rayner - sentenced for execution, disappeared

Crosby - smth to do with rayners

Sera - havent read

Jonas - contacted by a company?

Nami - havent read

Mamo - bus crash??

Dakota - forgot

Crystal - forgot

Sanjana - got sweeped away by the mist while monitoring it?

Kelvin - sweeped away by mist before sanjana(all i remember)

Arlo - fell asleep in a library or smth

Iris - forgot

Saadiya - forgot

Anais - dad died when she thought she found love? got taken by mist while grieving

Kiara - escaped the party her alternate timeline self got kidnapped at

Sarah - got tossed into a lake??

Yvonne - framed? disappeared in a prison riot

Elizabeth - framed?? disappeared in a prison riot?

Lyndon - forgot

Dante - speared through the chest while sending out an SOS signal

Serena and Kyle - dad got killed by werewolf on a hunting trip

Yeona - went to look in STAR*STRUCKs dorm gone wrong

Yan and Nathan - partially forgot, all i remember is Yan’s dad got killed by an enemy organization

Ryder - didnt read

Riley - skydiving gone wrong

Dae - came back to dorm to see Ye-Jun’s confrontation gone wrong

DAKARI💙💙💙💙 - boat got punctured, he thought it was an injured marine animal. Came back w/ healing gun to find the boat top empty and a polluted fish creature

Tabitha - forgot

Wren - forgot

Emil - bled out in a protest turned riot?

Evelyn - didnt read

NOW. For killers

Werewolf - parents got mauled by a pack of wolves and he got bit, turned into a ww and killed serena and kyles dad

Polluted - lost his mom to pollution, pretty sure he washed up on a shore at one point

Ghost - kidnapped from a party. Tried escaping her captors on christmas(?) and got killed

Principal - lost his daughter because of yronica, tried killing her and her group

Show - forgot

Apostate - drowned in a lake?

Watcher - all i remember is hes a terrorist for attention

Janitor - killed by principal?

Experiment - didnt read

Surgeon - forgot

Idol - got confronted gone wrong

Host - containment breach????

Unforgotten - purely made of hatred of humans

Android - killed someone i think

Stalker - pushed sarah into a lake?

Voidskulk - got infected by a thing that killed her godfather or uncle or wtv

Warden - i think he got electrocuted to death in a prison riot

Empress - betrayed and beheaded

Stareater - hit by a shooting star

Possessed - near same as seoung, got possessed by an evil spirit instead

Banshee - killed herself to reunite with her sister? massacred elijahs camp

Boss - forgot

[samstree]

What’s up readers?! How about a little show and tell? Answer these 13 questions, tag 13 lucky readers and if you’re feeling extra bookish add a shelfie! Let’s Go!

Thank you @darthwillies for the tag!

1) The Last book I read:

The Vampire Lestat. I've been slowly reading the first few Vampire Chronicles books since the TV show took over my body and soul lmao. So far this one is a lot of fun!

2) A book I recommend:

Creatures of a Day. It's a non-fiction and a good look into psychology in general and psychiatrist as a profession. Would highly recommend Irvin Yalom's other books too.

3) A book that I couldn’t put down:

The Song of Achilles. I read very slowly in English but this book had me hooked from the beginning and I finished it in one weekend. This was actually a few years ago now but I haven't had the same experience since. (If anyone knows anything that is the same but like...different, please let me know alskjdf)

4) A book I’ve read twice (or more):

This Is Going to Hurt. I really liked the humor in the book when the topic is so serious. It's about working in health care and especially in the OB ward. Witnessing life and death daily can't be easy, but Adam Kay makes it easy to read.

5) A book on my TBR:

The Red Sorghum. It's been on my TBR since it won the Nobel prize lmao. The theme is very heavy though, but anyway, one day I will read, even just for the nobel.

6) A book I’ve put down:

All the Light We Cannot See. The writing is beautiful but the WWII story just doesn't draw me in as much. Maybe one day I will go back to it.

7) A book on my wish list:

Can I put an unpublished book here? The Winds of Winter lol, if I can be cheeky for a bit. Watching House of the Dragon really just brought me back into my asoiaf era. I feel sixteen again and piecing together all the clues for the sequel and thinking about all the theories. Unfortunately it is still very much a wish list.

8) A favorite book from childhood:

Journey to the West! Who doesn't love an adventure story about four besties going on a road trip that is full of cool monsters of the week? Also the whole book is metaphor for buddhist enlightenment. So it really contains multitudes.

9) A book you would give to a friend:

Silver in the Wood. It's a short novel that I brought to a long flight and just finished in one go. It makes you feel like you've just taken a little walk in the forest. It's a light read that makes a perfect gift!

10) A book of poetry or lyrics that you own:

Does Evgenii Onegin count as poetry? It's one of my favorite reads back in university. Partly because of the adapted play I think, it is still the top theater experience I've ever had.

11) A nonfiction book you own:

When Breath Becomes Air. It was written by a surgeon about his journey battling cancer at the end of his life. It's one of the books that stayed with me, having read it after cancer being such a huge part of my life for years. I feel like I got some answers from it and would recommend everyone to read.

12) What are you currently reading:

Queen of the Damned. More sexy vampires! Some of them are even old AND sexy!

13) What are you planning on reading next?

Keep reading through the Vampire Chronicles until reason and taste fail me (or Anne Rice does). I hear people tend to stop at some point during the 12 books in the whole series. We'll see how long I last.

tagging: @kuripon @cherryjuicegf @silvipeppers @tideswept @valdomarx. No pressures of course <3

[szallejhscorner]

Easier

“What are you talking about?” you shout in an almost hysteric voice, and Chishiya leans back against the sofa and exhales a deep breath. He didn’t want this discussion, especially not on his only day off since two weeks. And even though he tried anything to avoid this certain topic, here you are – arguing about the exact thing.

“It’s not even much I’m asking you for”, you continue since he remains silent. “One family meeting. Those are like once or twice a year? That’s really not too much to ask, is it?”

Chishiya just watches you, face reddened with anger and breath quickening while you try to convince him. You have told him everything he needs to know already. The wedding of a cousin, one that you really like but that lives quite far away, so you want to spend the whole weekend there. Maybe even do some sightseeing on the day after the wedding.

It wouldn’t be too much to ask for, of course. Family meetings aren’t that bad when it’s your family, and Chishiya never attends the ones on his side anyway. No, he’d have agreed to it without discussion if it wasn’t for one single detail.

“You know it’s the weekend of the Surgeon ESC.” That one world congress for surgeons that will exhibit really interesting innovations, products and services about anything a surgeon could dream about. This year, the congress will be in Switzerland and Chishiya has already been given a ticket both for flight and accommodation as well as the congress entry.

It is an important event to him, much more important than a wedding of someone he has only seen once in his life. And he doesn’t even prohibit you to go. You’re free to visit your family for the entire weekend, but he can’t accompany you this time. There will be plenty more weddings, funerals and birthdays where you can brag with your fantastic surgeon boyfriend.

“That’s…” ruffling your hair with one hand, you pace the living room the way you always do when you’re upset. Chishiya has watched it so many times now, but rarely has he been the reason to upset you. “Why do you want to go there, anyway? You already know everything they will tell you!”

Chishiya huffs. “Probably. But one doesn’t always get a ticket to Zurich to meet the world’s best surgeons.”

“And my cousin doesn’t marry like five times a month. This is a once-in-a-lifetime-event, Shuntarou! And that stupid congress is every year. You can go next year. Or follow it through an online stream or something.”

Follow a congress via stream while he sits in a hall filled with people too loud and too drunk to lead proper conversations with? Where all he will do is avoid questions why you two haven’t married yet, why there are no children, and more pathetic stuff that most people expect from others? “You can send me pictures”, he suggests in a last attempt to soothe the situation. While he doesn’t care about fancy wedding dresses, flowers or decoration, he’d allow you to spam him with images so you’d be happy. But apparently, it is not enough for you.

You have come to a stand, hands now crossed across your chest and eyes as cold as ice. “You’re so much like your father.”

That’s all you say, in a low and bitter voice, and yet those few words have more impact on Chishiya than the rest of this conversation. He clearly is not like his father, and you are perfectly aware that what you said affects him deeply.

He stiffens and holds your gaze with the same fierceness. “Am I, now? I recall you saying that you really hated my father.”Which is fine, for the record. He despises that man, too, for more reasons than he ever told you.

“He’s not really a likeable man”, you admit with a tremble, probably realizing that you have gone too far.

Breathing out audibly, Chishiya gets up from the couch and reaches for his jacket. This is not the place he wants to be in right now – he needs space to clear his mind. “If you despise him so much and we’re the same, I don’t understand why you’re still here.”

“Wha-“ you snort, shaking your head in disbelief, “don’t twist the facts now, Shuntarou! What’s the point, now?”

“Well, you’re obviously unhappy with how this is going. I won’t cancel the congress, and you won’t let me go. If this doesn’t work out for you, you better pack up and leave.”

Chishiya slips into his jacket and puts on his shoes, fully aware that you’re still staring at him, fiddling with your hands while you search for the right words. “We’re not done here”, you shout, “where do you think you’re going? Let’s sort this out like adults and don’t run away like a child!”

Chh. As if he’s the childish one here. Knowing that there’s no point in arguing any further, he opens the door and leaves.

“Maybe I’ll just do that – pack and leave”, you threaten, but Chishiya doesn’t look back. He needs fresh air, and you definitely need some time to calm down and clear your mind.

The weather outside is cold, with a harsh wind blowing through his hair, so he pulls up the hood of his jacket to stay warm. Chishiya doesn’t pay any attention to where he’s walking – he has seen these streets hundreds of times already and there is nothing interesting to notice. All he passes are windows with half-rotten flowers, candles gathering tons of dust and the mandatory old cat that belongs to an even older lady.

He acknowledges the people passing him as little as they acknowledge him. Most of them are lost souls with dreams they will never fulfill, drowning in self-doubts, debts and misery. And here he thought you were different from them.

Chishiya has been naïve to think you’d know him well enough by now to let him go. It’s human of you to wish that you’d do everything together, that a family gathering means you both will be there, but Chishiya isn’t like normal people. He has made it clear right from the start that his priorities differ from the pathetic standard – brand-name clothes, huge follower counts on social media, the love for small-talk that most seem to have. He doesn’t approve of public cuddles and kisses, he won’t gift you chocolate and flowers on Valentine’s Day and he’d never propose to you on one knee with a cheesy quote on his lips.

You had been fine with all that, and yet you have forgotten about who he really is today. It has happened before, but never did it end in such a discussion. Chishiya has told you to leave, and while saying it had been hard, he means it. If you’re unhappy with who he is, because he won’t change into a completely new person just for you, this might not be the right relationship for you. What a miracle it has been anyway for Chishiya to bond with you in the first place. Maybe it’s better to return to who he was before, expelling anything that has to do with love from his core.

Yes, he wouldn’t be surprised to see you gone, leaving for good to search for another relationship that suits you better. It isn’t what he wants, but it’s the most logic consequence.

The wind gets colder and a drizzle begins, cloaking Chishiya with a heavy blanket that fits the mood, and yet Chishiya doesn’t turn around. The cold causes his limbs to go numb, and the sound of water dripping faster and faster onto the earth is almost hypnotizing. Most people flee into the dry buildings now, and Chishiya almost feels like the last person on this planet.

If every other human would disappear at a moment’s notice, if the rain would swallow every living soul, leaving only one hollow person, he could forget about the argument. Nothing would matter anymore – no corruption, no violence, no stupidity would be left. Just him in an environment that would immediately forget about humanity and take everything back that had once been claimed as human.

Chishiya would like that, somehow. Returning to his apartment will probably feel the same in case you’ve stuck to your threat and left. Not only will it feel empty, but it will be empty since most of the interior belongs to you. The images on the wall, small trinkets from other cities and other countries that you visited, nothing belongs to him.

You’re the one to bring color into his life, but at the same time, you make it so much more complicated. He has long accepted that he cannot have one without the other, but if it always leads to arguments like the one you’ve just had, he doesn’t know if bringing color into his life is actually worth it.

Thunder growls in the distance, and when Chishiya looks up, blinking through the heavy raindrops that now are falling, he soon sees the next flash tearing through the dark clouds. His hands have begun to tremble, and it is about time he returns to his apartment before the storm comes too close.

It is a long way back, and despite the weather and the fact he’s soaking wet from head to toe, the walk has been more than refreshing. The silence and the cold air have chased away the heat from the argument, and his body will be numb enough to muffle the pain when the apartment will actually be empty.

As soon as he can see the building, his eyes are glued to the windows that belong to the place you two used to live in for quite a while now. All the windows are dark, there’s not even a hint of light in one of them.

The water soaking his clothes and body slow him down noticeably, or maybe Chishiya hesitates to enter too fast. But he eventually reaches the door and pulls out the key while water drips down, creating huge puddles beneath his feet.

Inside it is silent and dark, without music or light. Nothing is running on the television and nothing is simmering on the stove. Have you left after all?

Chishiya gets rid of his wet shoes and throws the jacket onto the ground as well. There’s no need to cover the entire floor of this apartment with water, since the housekeeper will only come in two days.

It is redundant to turn on the lights – he knows where to go, and he doesn’t need to see things already missing. It would be impossible to take everything you own with you at once, so you’ll have to come back again to get the rest, but some of the most important things you’d never leave behind, and Chishiya knows exactly what it is.

He heads for the bathroom to change into dry clothes, but something strikes his view as he passes the sideboard. That certain photo… it’s still there.

And as he pauses, a feint noise reaches his ear. Slow and rhythmic breaths, coming from the sofa, where you have fallen asleep under a heavy blanket. Your face is wet from tears since you’ve been crying, but…

You’re still here.

Chishiya breathes out, only now realizing that he has held his breath. You didn’t leave, which also means that the discussion about that certain weekend will continue. Chishiya won’t change his mind about the congress, but since you’re still here next to him, there’s a change you have finally understood that. This congress is much more important to him than a wedding of some cousin, although it doesn’t affect the way he feels about you. That’s something you really have to understand: the future will bring even more arguments like this one, where Chishiya will prefer something over what you think is more important. It doesn’t mean though that Chishiya doesn’t respect you. The fact that he feels relief upon seeing you is more than enough evidence to prove that.

He continues to watch you for a few heartbeats longer, until most of the tears on your face have dried up.

It’d be better if you had left, leaving Chishiya alone so he could lead an easy life. But he is glad to see you here, covered in your favorite blanket as if nothing had ever happened. You make things complicated, and yet…

Chishiya likes the complicated and deviating, doesn’t he?

[un-awarewolf]

EDIT: There have been some unfortunate last minute changes. Not only did it seem like Medicaid was not going to review and approve my surgery in time, but in a completely unexpected last minute turn of events, my surgeon was out of state and his flight was cancelled 🙃 So he wouldn't have been back in time to perform the surgery anyway. I am now waiting to see if any time becomes available on September 22nd, after the already scheduled surgeries for that day are given priority.

$2,485/4,000

I AM ONE MONTH AWAY FROM TOP SURGERY! 🎉 Originally I wasn’t expected to have a date set until October, but due to a cancellation, my surgery is now set for June 29th!

I am beyond excited and don’t have enough words to express just how much this means to me. However, after recently needing a month off work for my hysterectomy and having less than 3 months back before my top surgery, which will require me to take another TWO months off to recover; I am going to need quite a bit of help to afford my living expenses. I will ALSO be having to move less than 4 weeks after my surgery to a new apartment, so you can just imagine the amount of stress I am currently experiencing while I try to prepare. 😵‍💫 For a more in-depth dive of what I hope to accomplish with top surgery and a breakdown of my expenses, you can click on the link to my fundraiser below!

If you only ever interact with one of my posts, I would be beyond appreciative if it was this one. Sharing, Commenting, and of course Donating would mean the world to me. Thank you so much for reading this far, and for being a part of my journey! I can’t wait for what happens next!

[sashi-ya]

𝐒𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐞 𝐁𝐫𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 [+18] 𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐟𝐚𝐥𝐠𝐚𝐫 𝐥𝐚𝐰 𝐱 𝐟! 𝐩𝐫𝐨 𝐜𝐨𝐬𝐩𝐥𝐚𝐲𝐞𝐫! 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫 [chapter five]

ʚ masterlist: part 1; part 2; part 3 ; part 4 ; final ʚ tw: slow, sloooow burn. But wait, WAIT I promise you will have good romance veeery soon. have fun searching about what noctilucas are, they will be very important in the final chap :3

𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝟓: 𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐠𝐞𝐭 𝐦𝐞 𝐧𝐨𝐭

The ticket won’t scan. “Ugh, for fucks sake! Why…” you protest, trying for the machine at the airport to scan the code from your phone. The new check in system seamed convenient in the beginning, but you clearly checked it wasn’t the case.

Once, twice, and even for the fifth time a huge red X appears on the screen. People behind you begin to complain as why “someone is blocking the damn machine”.

“Ok, ok!!! This shit isn’t working!” you grunt, letting the idiots behind you pass. Nothing seemed to be going well since the very beginning you put a foot in this city. First, the con incident. Then, Law and all of the things that happened in less than 24 hours. And now, there seems to be a strong invisible force playing with you once again.

You just wanna leave. You don’t want to know anything about this place… never again.

Checking your phone, you see time flies as the airplanes in the sky. So, you need someone to scan your ticket, or you won’t be able to flight back home.

“Now, where is this damn airline located?” you ask yourself, looking all around to see if you can find any sign of such company.

Of course, it seems as everybody is running late to go somewhere -even if their flights aren’t due for at least 3 hours from now-. But this is the big city, after all. Some push you, as they run with their carry ons. Others click their tongues instead of asking you politely to move to the side. In any case, you are fed up.

You thankfully and finally devise the name of the airline a few halls away, so, you are ready to push everyone who gets in the middle. If they aren’t polite with you, then you shouldn’t either.

When you finally get there, the only free counter awaits for you. And so, you run towards it, since you are most probably about to miss your fly.

“HI! THE SCAN ISN’T WORKING PROPERLY, MY TICKET ISN’T WO-“ “HI! I NEED TO KNOW IF A PASSENGER HAS ALREADY LEFT, PLEASE! IT IS AN EMERGENCY!”

Two voices crash into each other. Shoulders too. A pair of woman’s hands, and a pair of inked ones grab for dear life to the counter, startling the assistant.

“I can help you both, but please one at a time” the lady behind the counter says, with widen eyes and ready to call security.

However, what she says lacks importance, as your eyes meet the eyes of the man that is right next to you.

“What are you doing here, Law?”

“(Name)-ya…” he sighs. His cheeks, once again, turn red. His crystal eyes are unable to look at yours any second longer. “I am… really….so-“

Your lips tremble. There is something you still can’t process, and it is the fact that this could have been like a romantic movie.

“I- It’s ok… how did you know?” you ask, confused. You are sure you never told him which airline you were flying with.

“That, I can explain” Penguin, Law’s friend arrives panting. “So, naturally, we shouldn’t do this… but, for a friend in love we thought it was ok…” he says, lifting his finger and almost receiving a punch from Law.

“Penguin! I-…” Law screams, but Bepo joins the conversation along with Shachi. Both, of course, also panting, and sweaty.

“(Name)! I’m really sorry. I knew you were traveling around this hour and since I follow you on Instagram I know were you live… so…”

“So, we searched for possible flights to your hometown around this hour. And we were left with at least 4 different airlines. We split up to find you, and the best thing is that it seems as if Law had to be the one to do so” Shachi adds, pushing a flustered surgeon.

You can’t help but giggle. This could be considered stalking, but you are sure these guys have no ill intentions whatsoever. It is, in any case, sweet.

“Guys, you are true detectives… even if I am glad to see you again, I’m still a little bit confused to why you are here” you lie, because you clearly hear Penguin say “a man in love” when he was talking about Law.

Law clears his throat, and moves you the side, as some rude passengers were also annoyed at the fact their tickets weren’t scanning and needed to get to the counter.

He looks at the guys, who quickly understand he wishes to be alone with you and leave faster than Flash himself.

“So, (Name)-ya… I am really sorry for bothering you. I know you are about to board a plane, but, I needed to apologize. I didn’t act properly yesterday” he says, with his eyes glued to the dirty floor of the airport.

You smile, softly. You aren’t sure why he is apologizing, or why you seemed to be that important, but your heart is glad he did.

Before you could think of the right words to say, you search inside your bag. There was something you still owe him; the polar bear plushie.

“I- It’s ok, Law. You shouldn’t have bother to come all the way here… however, I am glad you did” you say, stretching your hand towards him.

He looks closely to the white fluff coming from your palm, remembering the charm he gave you. And then looks at you with the eyes of a kid.

“I needed to give it back to you. I was planning on sending it back to you whenever I got home… but here you are so…” you murmur, as your voice slowly soothes. You can’t help but feel weak and defenceless when you see him looking at you that way.

His inked fingers graze your palm, as he takes the charm. He is reluctant to do so, or at least that’s what it looks like to you. It also feels like he wanted to say something else, and indeed, you wish he did.

“Thank… you. I wouldn’t mind you having it a little longer. In fact, you can keep it. You will be back here, right?” he asks, offering you the plushie again.

You aren’t really sure about what to answer to his question. A few minutes ago, you wish to never ever come back to his town; however, now, your heart wish for you not to take that plane back home.

You hesitate whether taking the charm with you or not, but he seems to insist. Law is clearly not good at expressing his emotions, so perhaps the only way he has to do it is by offering you something you can keep with you.

But, what did make him change again? Why did he get so distant all of a sudden, and now, he is asking you for forgiveness?

“Law… I- I am not sure. I…” you stutter but grabbing his “gift” either way. It is as if your body wouldn’t want you to say no, even if your reason would.

Law plays with one of the little hoops hanging from his ear as he takes enough air to speak. “It’s ok if you don’t want to come back. Either way I want you to keep it. Maybe as a way of remembering not everything was so bad when you came here”

Your eyes soften. Your muscles too. With your head tilted to the side, you give him a smile and press the plushie against your chest.

“I will make sure to take care of it. Give me your phone number, Law… So, I can send you some pictures of it whenever I am home” you tell him, even if the real reason wasn’t exactly that one.

You search for your phone and give it to him, waiting for his fingers to type those ten numbers. Law grabs it, and one by one he adds the digits. He still gives your wallpaper a misgiving look, even if he knows the man in the photo is no other than your cousin.

“Uh… that’s Luffy… my cousin” you murmur, pointing at the screen.

Law nods, with puppy eyes. And the sudden realization of why he acted the way he did, hits you… jealousy.

You sweetly take the phone back, smiling at the name he chose to give to himself to save his contact; “Sora the Warrior of the Sea”

“Sora? You are amazing, Law…” you giggle, acknowledging how hard he is trying to look cool upon you.

He even smirks softly, despite how ashamed he feels and waits for you to finally ask about your defective ticket.

It turns out that it was a system failure, that somehow worked in favour of Law and you. Who knows, it might be destiny, or just a simple coincidence.

Of course, you should hurry up. Despite the airline acknowledging their problem, the plane won’t be waiting for you much longer.

“Law, if you wanna go back… it’s ok, you don’t have to wait for –“ “(Name)-ya, give me your luggage. I will carry it for you” Law says, clearly showing you with actions he doesn’t want you to go or at least to spend the most next to you.

You allow him to do so; you don’t mind walking through such busy airport next to a hot edgy doctor, after all.

But the line isn’t that long, and it’s time for you to go through to security to finally disappear behind frosted glass walls.

“So… it’s time” you murmur, with a pain in your heart a little difficult to explain.

He nods, this time he doesn’t look serious, but sad. Yet, he can’t stop you. He knows he couldn’t.

“(Name)-ya, take care please…” he whispers, giving you the handle of your carry on. And those words seem not to be enough to tell you the things his eyes are telling.

You nod, whispering a “you too” that he can barely hear. Your throat feels dry, and somehow it seems difficult to go away from there.

You show him the little fluffy ball in your hand, as you begin to walk away. Steps you take so slowly, somehow feeling you are missing something. Was it something you left at the hotel? Or was it something you didn’t properly pack?

No… it isn’t something tangible.

“Wait, (Name)-ya!” you hear, everything jolts inside you and your eyes widen when you feel the soft hand of a surgeon grab your wrist.

Softly, you turn around, discovering Law’s lips barely separated and eyes that are now filled with bravery and determination.

“Yes, Law?” you murmur, taking the same two steps you took to go away, to come back to him.

“Promise me you will send me a text when you get home… please?” he says stopping himself from moving any further. Even if, he just wanted to kiss you.

A little disappointed, yet with a softened heart, you give him a sweet smile. “I will, I promise…” you whisper, getting on tippy toes just to kiss his cheek, this time, closer to his lips. “Promise me, then, that you will come and visit me in the summer…”

Law nods, taking his hand to the place you just kissed. His silvery eyes can only reflect yours, and the subtle smile that invades his lips will be the face you will remember until you see him again someday.

His hand slides as you begin to walk towards security check, finally letting you go when not a single molecule can’t still hold to your forearm skin.

Before the glass doors close, you take a last look at his cheeks that are now looking like caramel apples.

“Goodbye, Law… don’t forget about me~” you mouth, while waving your hand.

“Bye, (Name)-ya…”

…

Six months after…

The days at the country side turned more enjoyable than you would have thought they ever will... Sunsets were more beautiful than before, the sounds of the waves crashing on the coast so near your home, finally told you stories of waiting lovers. And not a single day went by, without you sighing his name.

Your cosplay career kept growing, and you even started writing the most beautiful love stories ever told. There was someone who made your heart beat, and the inspiration for those stories only came from the things you wish you were living with him.

You had a special ringtone set for when Law texted you; the moment the word “Sora” appeared on your screen your eyes would shine as much as the stars in the same vast sky that somehow join both of you.

You planned so many cosplays together -even if he never thought of doing them, he would just because he wanted to see the smile that invaded your face through endless videocalls.

The weather was becoming hotter, and the new conventions were already scheduled; therefore, you had to start working on your next projects…

20:46 Sora (Law)> Name-ya, I won’t be able to use my phone in the following hours. Got a big surgery coming next. Sleep early today, you should rest. Don’t over work yourself. 20:47 you > yes, Doc. You too. Why are you operating so late, though? 20:48 Sora (Law)> too long to explain, but the operation was scheduled for today 6 months ago. Eat something and sleep. Goodnight. 20:48 you > ok… I wanted to show you some pics of the Noctilucas, but I will send them tomorrow. Have… fun? Bye bye 👋

You let your phone over the table, worried. Law is not usually very romantic, but he definitely never texted you this way. Of course, you couldn’t protest… after all, Law was just a friend to you… a friend with whom you could chat until falling asleep, and even sometimes doing it while on video call. A friend who cared for your wellbeing, and a friend who tells you everything he does from the time he opens his eyes, to the time he closes them in bed.

“Is Law lying? Why would he?” you ask yourself, as you stand up and walk through the window of your kitchen.

The noctilucas were on full bright; those tiny little sea creatures emanating a bright blue light from the sea could only remind you of Law. For some reason, you associate that shiny cerulean colour to Law’s inner power to make your heart get in shambles…

“I wish you were here, Law…” you sigh, with the painful need of ignoring a thought that has invaded your mind since you read his text… “There is no way Law would have a big surgery scheduled during a Friday night. He probably has a date. Yes… that should be… he owns me nothing, after all…”

To be continued - next part here

[pupintransit]

Fun little update about my gender affirming surgery- I didn't die!

I'm writing this on March 7, one day after my discharge from the recovery house at GRS Montréal. My flight home from Quebec isn't until Saturday so the hubby and i are hanging out in a hotel until then. I'll start by saying that the staff at GRS Montréal are all complete angels 🧡 I won't get into the weeds of the physical sensations of my recovery, but suffice to say I had a very taxing aftercare. I felt very supported and looked after during my time there even with all the setbacks i experienced.

Now, something that i have alluded to before in my write ups is that the trans communities and friends i have were very diligent to remind people not to romanticize the surgery. They're right to! The morning after my surgery the nerves in my genitals started to reactivate, and they were pissed about it. 11/10 pain for at least 15 minutes, which was when the oxycodone kicked in. Before that the worst pain i'd had experienced was scabies. Not anymore it's not! If you take nothing else from this post please do not fuck around if you're gonna do something like this. Listen to your body and ask for help when you need it, because i gaurentee you that you will need it.

I left site with pain meds to last a few days and very strict aftercare instructions, which i have been following to the letter. My surgeon requires four dilations a day for the first month, which if you include the cleaning up and air drying afterward can take upwards of two hours. Essentially i'm working an eight hour day cut up into four split shifts. To be honest i thought it'd be overwhelming, but after two days in a hotel to get used to everything it's not as bad as i was expecting. I feel like i have enough time in between sessions to relax, eat, go for a little walk, all that fun stuff. Not much time for day trips of course, but i can resume those soon enough. Frankly what i want to do more than go out for an evening is sleep on my side again...

The first time i really took stock of my new genitalia was midday after the external packing came off. I was looking in a mirror. I was purple and swollen (still am) but all the shapes i wanted to see were there. My automatic response was "Yeah, this is fine." Nothing euphoric, nothing like coming home again or whatever, just acceptance. And i think that's all i needed it to be? Nothing is hanging down there anymore. No stringy hairs to trim, no weird wrinkly foreskin, no random erection that won't go away. Just my pussy.

I'm not done healing yet. Shit still hurts quite a bit, i gotta sleep on a towel lest my bedsheets get ruined, and when i douche the water still runs a little red with gunk. That ain't gonna end for a while and it suuuuuucks, but the shapes i want to see on my body are still there so to me it is worth the hassle.

I do still go through phases of regret though, usually when my pain gets a little too much to bear or when my mood really dips. "Did i really need this? This wasn't worth all this pain, i hate feeling this way." What i try to remember is that i was in my right mind when i made and committed to this decision, and i'm simply not when overwhelmed with pain. When that pain subsides, so too does the regret.

And then i see my shapes again.

This was profoundly difficult and easily the worst i have ever felt physically, but i have no regrets. I can't wait to see myself once i'm fully healed and ready to go. I'll be the me i've always wanted to be 🧡

[yourwinchesterbros]

Old Habits Die Hard Part One

Word count: 8K

Pairing: Opie Winston X reader

Summary: In this part, reader returns to Charming due to her father’s funeral. She’s left to confront the past she ran away from.. and reveal history. 

Author’s Note: My first Opie fic & I'm so happy to be writing about this grizzly man! This is a bit of a slow burning start, but I promise part two will be 🌶️!!! If you enjoyed, please show me and Opie some love 💖 

Big thanks to @alohomorasomnium for helping me with this! (Kisses) 

Warnings: Use of y/n, Talk of death, foul language, some Gaelic dialogue, and perhaps fluff? 

There it is.  

The famous wind beaten, dark trim wooden sign.  

Welcome to Charming - it reads.  

While surpassing this somewhat historical landmark, you inhale heavily as if you were absorbing all the tension in the air. With a shaky exhale, you peer up in your review mirror, watching the dirt cloud settle behind your deep blue 1970 Plymouth Barracuda. The sheer force of your muscle car causing the sign to rattle into swings as it literally eats your dust.  

“Too late to turn back now” You mutter under your breath.  

It’s been what? Roughly 6 years since you’ve set foot into your little hometown. You can't deny the rising tidal wave of emotions crashing against you, waiting to be released from the bay doors within you, begging to be liberated and settled before you arrive at your mom's. You swallow hard, trying your damnedest to keep the composure you’ve held since you left Dublin. Although you’re successful at ignoring your failed healing process, your heart still weighs heavy as you remember the look on your fiancé's face at the terminal.  

“Call me when you land. I love you and say hi to Mrs. M for me” He whispered as he held your face close to his. “I'm sorry about your dad, I wish I could be there with you.”

Your chest is riddled with stings of guilt. As much as he expressed his longing to accompany you, and support you in this time of loss, you wanted to take this trip alone. For many reasons, some you openly accepted and others you buried in the back of your mind.  

Your princess cut, diamond-studded ring glitters brightly in the sunlight. Almost obnoxiously actually. You flex your hand from the steering wheel into a flat spread, looking upon the sparkle in dread. Yeah, that’s right- dread. Things weren’t so peachy in your so-called apple-pie life over in Ireland. After what had happened here in Charming all those years ago, which caused you to pack your bags in a hurry and relocate, your world changed overnight (or literally over a flight) when you landed in Dublin. At the young age of 21 years old, you started from scratch again, moving in with your aunt. Along the way you picked up a few bartending gigs, whilst going to nursing school. You kept to yourself, focused on your savings and your studies. Even though you had promised yourself exile from Charming, you kept in regular touch with your parents over the phone.  

After establishing a steady, normal routine, it didn’t take long for you to meet your now fiancé. Declan is a professor that taught at your university, DCU. He was once a full-time surgeon, who went part time as he enjoyed teaching others. In your second year of nursing school, you eventually became a student of his. And let me tell you, from the moment he saw you, it was clear he took a liking to your appearance as well as your demeanor. Even though you had just turned 22, your childhood was one that matured you quickly.  

Upon meeting Declan, also known as Dr/Mr. O’Brien, the chemistry was evident. Over the course of a quick four years, the two of you ended up here. First It was after class tutoring, which turned to dating, then to moving in together which then resulted in an unexpected proposal over a year ago.  

That’s right. It's been a whole ass year of struggling to pick the wedding date, the vendor and who the maid of honor would be. Certainly not your aunt, your only friend in that godforsaken town. Even though all these struggles were enough to stress a new coming bride to the point of being traumatized, you felt relief. As much as you adored Declan, truly, you never wanted to get married. You came to realize, no matter how hard you tried, you couldn’t give him your whole heart. You weren’t sure if you ever would. Therefore, this put a bit of a pin in your wedding plans. Although he’s a smart man, he never really seemed to recognize this. So, until you could figure it out, he didn’t need to know.  You tap your thumb on the steering wheel, anxiety creeping upon you, as if your body has muscle memory, it takes you a minute but you finally realize why.

An upcoming fork in the road appears, one you know all too well.  

Left Your mind involuntarily speaks, causing your heartbeat to rapid.  

With a slow approach, you turn your steering wheel to the right, trying your best not to glance down at that highway of memories leading to town. You shift your black rays sitting on your head, holding your bangs out of your face, to the bridge of your nose. Left is a path to history. A history too painful to replay. You didn’t block out the world you once lived in for no reason. No No, those memories stay tightly locked in a box inside that head of yours. He stays locked away, far from your heart which never fully recovered from his actions. You feel your bottom lip tremble. Although it’s been six years since you last saw him, you still often thought of him, no matter how hard you try to ignore those creeping flashbacks. Man, first love heartbreak is a god damn bitch and if anyone understands Taylor swift's lyrics, it’s you.  

The pavement beneath you turns to gravel. Your beast of a car rattles at the uneven pebbled pathway leading to your parents' house. Your nerves instantly fire up at the sight. You’ve been so caught up in your thoughts, the reality of your current situation hadn’t had time to sink in, until right now. You believed in yourself when you said you’d grieved at home with your fiancé, but really you only just touched the surface. You bit your bottom lip, parking into your old spot near the farm you grew up on. You turn the ignition off, the silence deafening. Shit. This ride was too short. You expected it to be longer, to give you more time to process all that comes with reentering Charming.  

“Here we go” you whisper as you swing out of the car, to the trunk to grab your baggage.  

“Y/n”! You hear a pip squeak yell behind you, recognizing your mother's voice immediately. You turn to her, baggage in one hand, your free hand shifting your sunglasses back to the spot on your head.  

There she is, waving at you. God. Could she be any cuter? Her white apron, with patched green clovers, tied around her waist. Her dark redish/brown hair clipped up into a messy bun, revealing her full facial frame. You smile as she waves excitedly at you.

“Mum!” You call out as you attempt to lightly run towards her, your baggage making it awkward.  

“It’s about fecking time you arrived sweetie!” She opens her arms to you in a wide embrace.  

“máthair, máthair I rushed, I promise I did” You squeeze her tightly. It had been way too long since you’ve been in her arms.  

Your hug lingers, as you both quietly accept the very reason you’re here. You were coming home to one parent now. Although your mother has been on her own for the past week, her Irish strength never failed to persevere.  

Your dad fell ill last year. He was diagnosed with stage IV lung cancer. No cure. Despite your hatred for this town, You fought to come out and see him, to help assist your parents as their world turned upside down. But your dad, also known as Mr. M, the Leprechaun of Charming, was adamant that you do not see him in the condition he was. As much as he was dignified, he was humiliated at his decline. He argued with your mom, to try and get her to understand that his daughter should never see her father dying. Therefore, phone exchanges were your only line of communication. They started out quite frequently, three times a week. Sundays, Wednesdays, and Fridays. But that gradually changed as your father got sicker. The length of phone time with him becoming less and less. Your heart took a beating each time you heard the struggle in his voice. It eventually got to the point where your mother was answering your calls due to his exhaustion from chemotherapy.  

Until one day, your phone rang with heavy chimes. You’ll never forget. You hesitated to pick up, waiting until the last ring, praying it wasn’t the day. Tears streamed down your face when you heard your mom’s tired and broken voice. “He’s gone sweetheart.”  

Those were dark dark days, despite being in a town that was always cloudy.  

You set your bags in your old room, scoffing at the fact it hasn’t changed one bit. You save the trip down memory lane for later and return to the kitchen where you find evidence that your mother had been busying herself making sourdough bread. There’s flour all over her counter and stove, and the aroma that filled the house was delicious. You greet her at the little round table, her teapot steaming out the spout and her teacups ready to be filled. Teatime was always ritualistic in this household. It was comfort for your little Irish family.  

“So, sweetie” Your mom breaks the silence. Her tight lip smile warms you. Her eyes, hugged by crow’s feet, sparkle with pure gratitude that you’re finally here.  

You take a sip from the teacup, which turns to a slurp as you feel the searing on your lips from the heat. You set your fine China down and take a little glance around the room. Your eyes scanning and picking up items that you remember from the past. Your mom watches you, analyzing your expressions, wondering if you’ve been coping well. She knew that your return back home was no easy feat.  

“It hasn’t changed here one bit hey?” You speak softly.

She shakes her head swiftly, picking up her cup in two hands.  

“I know and I’m sorry it’s a bit of a mess, I’ve been baking and I'm aware of the flour that’s everywhere. I plan on sorting through and tidying up the house, it’s just been so hectic the last couple of weeks, you know? It’s hard t-”

“Mum” You interrupt. “Don’t be sorry, Jesus. I can’t imagine what you’ve been going through, the last thing you need to worry abou-”  

She cuts you off. “It’s just.. I haven’t got the heart to start going through his things, and I know I should throw out his used tissues or the fecking toothpicks on the side table I-”

“Mum, stop. You don’t need to explain, you shouldn’t be doing anything on your own right now anyways cau-”

She interrupts again. “I just need to get over there and toss all his things out, his glasses, the god forsaken pennies he collected, his sweaters, oh.. how he loved his fleece sweater” her voice cracks.  

Your eyes well up at the sight of her. You place your hand on her thigh, bringing her attention back from your dad's sweater, sprawled on his armchair.  

“Mum, I miss him too. I miss him so much, that seeing his stuff... brings me some sort of comfort so let's just leave his things where they are... a little while longer, please?” You whisper, the tears streaming down your cheeks. She catches them with the crook of her index finger.

She breathes deeply, closing her eyes. “I’d like that”.  

                                                                                The night comes quickly as you unpack your bags and get your things in order. After teatime, your mom had offered you dinner, but you really didn’t have an appetite. The two of you briefly discussed the funeral that was taking place tomorrow, which cemetery your dad was being buried in, what time to arrive at, and how long the two of you planned to stay. Being around those crying, or mourning wasn’t your area of expertise as you didn’t know how to comfort others, and your mom felt the same way. She managed to change the subject by dropping comments towards you and your fiancé moving back to Charming, but you dismissed that quickly. “That’s a topic for another day” you mentioned.

You blessed her with your goodnights before crawling into bed. Allowing yourself to drift off to the noises of the house, the mooing of the cows and grunts of the sheep in the barn. These were sounds you were familiar with. Tears begin rolling down your cheeks as you dream of your childhood, working the farm again with your dad.  

The following day, you slip on your black mary Janes, analyzing yourself in the ceiling to floor length mirror that stood by your bedroom door. You wore your snug fitting, formal black dress that reaches to your midcalf, with tight black sleeves that reach your hands and a high neckline. You put on your black, trench length peacoat and continue to gaze at yourself, losing focus, falling into a trance. Today is the day. Reality is going to be profound.  

As you close the front door and meet your mom at the courtesy hearse, you grab your ray bans from your purse to cover your eyes. The two of you ride in silence, all the way to the cemetery. You pluck your hair tie from your wrist and smooth your hair with your palms before tying it back into a ponytail. You really only did this, to give yourself something to do, as your bay doors holding back that tidal wave was quivering with anxiousness. You could feel it falling apart inside you. Before you know it, the driver announces your arrival. You share a moment with your mom, your eyes speaking words you could never voice.  

Be strong for each other.  

The door is opened by the driver, and an umbrella is offered to you as it is starting to rain. The cemetery looks like something out of a thriller film. Dark clouds hanging low, expelling increased rain, fog rolling near the ground dancing around your ankles, the forest surrounding you seeming alive as the trees seem to sway with grief. You hate this. You look up the little hill where the driver begins to escort you, seeing a group of people formed at the top, standing with black umbrellas. Fuck.  

You step over the curb, leaving the sturdy concreate road, to meet the squishy wet grass of the cemetery. With your mom by your side, the two of you walk up the little hill, towards your family and friends and towards the casket which is suspended right over the 6ft hole beneath. You feel dizzy. Everything happens in slow motion. Memories of your father race through your head causing your guilt to come flooding to the surface. Why didn't you just visit? You shouldn’t have listened to him, no matter how stubborn or afraid he was. It is your biggest regret.  

You stare at the shiny, brown, mahogany lid, watching the rain drops slide down the sides. The pastor stands in front, saying a prayer you can’t make out as you begin zone out. You feel eyes on you causing your stomach to turn. You’ve never been good at hiding or playing off your emotions and you hate the spotlight. The paster continues his sermon, you listen closely now as you hold your mom, her head resting on your shoulder. Your mind drifts off again, ignoring movements in your blurred vision. Individuals start to approach the casket, one by one, placing red roses on top, saying things to your dad. You’re startled as your mom leaves your side, placing her rose gently on the now heaping pile of rain-soaked flowers. You suddenly feel unbalanced, unstable. Your breathing becomes labored when she returns. Your legs, having a mind of their own, start to move, step by step towards the casket. Your heels dig into the wet soil as you try to balance your sluggish footing. Somehow, you still end up tripping, or maybe your knees gave out but next thing you know, your hands are palmed on the lid of the casket, supporting you from your fall. You feel your hair soaking and your sleeves dampening under the pour of the rain. Warm tears start spilling from your eyes, your nose running hot, the lump in your throat becoming too painful to swallow. The words spill out.  

“Even when you’re dead, you catch me when I fall” you sob.  

The floodgates come crashing down; you feel yourself losing control as you try to grip the wood as if you could somehow grasp him through it, hold him one more time. Tell him all the things you felt, how you’re sorry, how you wish you were strong enough to face his illness, the one that was robbing you of a loving father. You clench and grit your teeth to fight back the whimpers.

You feel a gentle touch on your back, a hand under your elbow. You stiffen at the sudden contact, embarrassed at the display you’ve presented. You snap back to reality, inhaling deeply. You look up through the mist, assuming it was your mom supporting you, only to have your world completely shaken.  

“Hey, I’ve got you” His voice oozes out, basically dripping off his beard.

Opie Winston looks down at you, head cocked, sadness written across his face as if the sight of you like this crushed his very soul.

Your eyes widen at his presence, and you swear he could see past the black tinted lenses of your ray bans.  

“Opie...Wha- what are you doing here?” You stutter, struggling to comprehend the fact that this man is standing in front of you. Your hands are on his forearms. You were shaking but you couldn’t tell if it was from the cold of the rain or if it’s a reaction to him supporting you, touching you.  

“I... “His voice sounded the same but somehow different. It was a tone that was carried out with a certain hardness. You watch his eyes search your face. “Well...I wanted to say goodbye too” He whispers. The loudness of the rainfall keeps your conversation private as the rest can’t hear the words exchanged between you two.  

You stammer with confusion “Y-you... wanted to say goodbye?... Wh-why..you didn’t care before.”  

His reaction was if you had hit him, he shifts his gaze down to his soaked, water-stained boots.

“A lot has happened since you left” he whispers, returning his gaze back to you, his dark eyes burning through your sunglasses.  

Your mom suddenly appears at your side as she slips her arm into yours, pulling you back to the umbrellas. As you let her motion you back, your eyes watch him disappear into the crowd.  

This can't be happening. Opie didn’t just appear back into your life, uninvited. Your vision blurs as you lose yourself to an endless montage of memories. While the pastor speaks again, you think about how Opie was at your house everyday 6 years ago. Working on mechanics in the garage with your dad, or helping your mom put the sheep back in the barn, he became a part of your family. He seemed to care so much back then but he ended it all with a few words, one late night. 

Why is he here now?  

                                                                         You nod your head at your cousin as she gives you a life lecture on how to cope with death, how to be thankful for what you had and not dwell on what is lost. Yeah, all that bullshit. Her words drift around you, never penetrating your focus as you carefully watch across the room in the funeral home. As many were scattered around, conversing with one another, you could see Opie talk with your mom near the entrance of the building. You desperately try and make out what they were saying to each other as he places a hand on her shoulder. Their expressions confuse you as they seem to be.. comforting each other?  

It has been 6 years.  

Your cousin catches on to your lack of focus and chalks it up to shock. She embraces you with a warm hug before departing to lecture someone else on grief. You hold your gaze, slowly walking along the wall past the other bodies milling about, drowning out all the murmur of conversation. You continue to watch them.  

You cup your mug that’s half filled with coffee, as they shared a long hug. You feel the longing to approach them. Approach him. But the fear that resides within you, is too strong. You stay where you are, your feet planted to the ground. Even from a distance, he still makes you feel that certain glow like before. But it starts to fade as he exits the funeral home. Butterflies alight within you as your body takes you through the crowd towards the open doors. You’re desperate to see his figure once again, to convince yourself that this is real. You halt at the sight of his Harley parked by the curb. He stands next to it, his hands by his side. You follow his gaze as you realize he’s staring at the leftover dirt mound that was used for your father’s burial. You hold your breath as you pray, hoping that he’ll look back to find you standing there, to notice that you want another chance to talk with him.  

Your ears cry at the sound of his bike being fired up, your vision blurring once more as Opie fades away, disappearing down the hill, the rumbling turning mute. 

“Alright mum, enough with the excuses and start talking. Why were you speaking with Opie? Why was he even there?”  You question your mother as the two of you walk to the outside porch from the kitchen.  

After the service, you and your mother returned home in silence. Still absorbing all the shock that came with the funeral. After washing up and putting on dry clothes, the two of you started to putter around the house, cleaning up. You couldn’t wait long, as you kept thinking about Opie, to ask your mom for details. As subtle as she likes to think she is, your mother wasn’t. She seemed to enjoy taking her time with her answers, as if the little kid inside her was coming out via gossip.  

The two of you sat on the bench swing, listening to the farm animals.  

“Well darling, when you were away, a lot happened here” she says ever so casually.  

“Yeah, I'm starting to gather that” You respond with hints of annoyance.  

“Mmmhm” She hums.

“Okay, and... care to elaborate máthair?” You say through gritted teeth.  

“Just remember what you told me dear, you nearly tore my head off through the phone that day eh?”  

“What?..No, I-I don’t remember, what are you even talking about?” you throw your hands up in frustration.  

“You’re the one that said you didn’t want to hear anything about Ope anymore. Every time I brought him up as I should be allowed too, as he basically lived in this house, it irritated you” she spoke so matter of factly. “Don't you remember now? Nearly ripping my head off when I said he visited, and asked about you?”  

“Ar son Dé, máthair” you groan.  

“Dont you get all gaelic with me! I simply did what you asked. Now are you wanting me to fill you in or do you want to keep whining about it?” she questions, finger pointing at you. At least her sass was coming back.  

“Alright, alright. Yes, tell me, what happened while I was gone?” You say eagerly, feeling as if you've missed out on so much.  

With a loud sigh, she begins “Well, he visited a few times, here and there after you moved away. He spoke with your father about the club often, as you well know your dad was familiar with all the things that went on in Charming” her eyes rolled at this. “Your father heard about everything that happened in this town, sometimes before the plays were even made, you know how he was”.  

“Yes, I do. He stuck his nose and ears everywhere” You chuckled.  

“Anyhow, Opie got married which I told you”. The words immediately pained your chest.  

“Yes..., I remember that, and yes I know shortly after I didn’t want to hear anymore.”  

“Mmhm, that's right. Well, about a year after, his wife died”. 

Your hand covered your mouth.  “Oh my god...”. You whisper  

“It was due to the club, retaliation of some sort. I never got the full story and I don’t think I want to.” she shudders.

“Jesus christ.. I knew the club was changing but I never thought it was going dark...” You shake your head remembering his face from today, supporting you at the casket. Guilt rising as you think about your response to him. He’s lost someone too..  

“That’s not all my dear..” She takes a big inhale before exhaling loudly. You brace yourself.  

“Piney died last year... also, a consequence from the club”. She says shaking her head.  

“Piney... was killed?” You barely spoke the words.  

“Mmhm I don’t know the details on that one either. However I will say that Clay stepped down shortly after, and Jax took the gavel”. She pursed her lips together, looking at you.  

“Jax is president now? You ask, eyes wide. “Is Opie still a part of the club?”  

“Oh very much so, I believe he’s becoming the VP soon actually”.  

You shake your head in disbelief, mouth open and brows furrowed. This is not the charming you knew after all.  

“So..was he here cause...”

“Well after losing his wife and his father, we wanted to provide him a safe place. He was welcome anytime; we shared many dinners and conversations.” She chuckled, as you could see her reminiscing. “But when your dad was first diagnosed, Opie started coming weekly. He helped us with the farm, he helped your dad fix up the roof on the barn, hell he was doing the hay rolls for us. He just... he took care of us. Your father and him grew quite close. It was as if he was helping, to preserve your fathers dignity. Anything your father couldn't do..which was many things during his illness, Opie did.”

You look down at your feet, confused by all the emotions you feel. You’re thankful he was here for them, but you’re mad that he got that closure with your dad, especially after breaking your heart. Why did he deserve your family when he didn’t want you?  

“So, he was at the funeral today because he truly, missed your dad”. She whispered as she looked out into the farmland.  

You lean back into the bench, looking up at the stars. You can’t help but feel a bit foolish. A part of you thought, or even hoped, that he was there because he wanted to see you. But it all made sense now. You scoff at yourself. The impact this man has on you, has your mind playing tricks on you.  

“Did you know he was going to be there?” You ask, one brow raised.  

“I didn’t, he knew about it, but it wasn’t confirmed if he was coming.” she explained.  

“Well... that was very nice of him wasn’t it?” You look upon your mom, clearly seeing the signs. She really cared for him.  

“Yes, but that’s Opie for you” She whispered.  

Yeah, that's Opie alright. Caretaker of your parents, undertaker of your fucking heart. What a saint.  

You walk around the house, with your glass of scotch on the rocks in hand, looking at all the pictures on the wall. You smile at the ones of you when you were a wee lass, posing with your mom and your favorite cow, Misty.  

You chuckle, “tsk, she really was a good cow”.  

You find yourself walking towards the garage, mindful of the ice clinking in your glass as you pass your mother's room. It’s well after midnight and you didn't want to interrupt her much-needed rest.  

You unlock the bolt, and quietly step into the garage closing the door behind you. It’s been so long since you’ve seen her... The beast herself.  

“What the fuck?” You freeze in your tracks as you see the brown tarp laying flatly on the ground. 

“What... the... fuck?” you repeat slowly. You look around the dusty room, looking for the keys. Your dad’s old jacket hung off one of the toolboxes. You dig in the pockets, feeling no keys and instead, your fingers graze over a piece of paper.  

To your surprise, you pull out a letter. “What?” you whisper as you flip it over.

“Opie”

You’re fucking kidding me. He gets a message from the grave but not me? You shove the letter in your pocket.  

You make your way to the door re-entering the house, walking to your mother's bedroom door, careless of the noise you tried to suppress before. With a gentle knock, you turn the knob.  

“Mum.... hey mum.” You whisper loudly. Luckily, she’s never been a deep sleeper.  

“Yes y/n?” She responds dimly as if she had never dozed off.  

“Hey, sorry to wake you but... dad’s Harley, its gone??”  There’s panic in your voice. You were ready to sound alarms.  

That was your dad’s baby, one that was to be passed down to you. He was determined to teach you how to ride that machine, starting when you were a toddler. There’s pictures of him holding you, so you were standing on top of the Harley seat, at 3 years old. Pictures of you on the back, holding your dad, wearing a bicycle helmet, while he drove you around the property. Pictures of when you went through your “Metal” stage in your teen years. Holding onto the ape handles, barely able to muscle the sheer weight of the Harley while you look at the camera with a proud smile. Your dad on the side looking at you with such pride. When you were 18, you rode it to prom with Opie.  

Your dad said “Kiddo, whenever that rainbow decides to collect me, this girl right here, she belongs to you” he said gruffly while patting the Harley.

“Íosa Críost, you had me worried.” Your mom spoke through the moonlit room. She sat up, putting her glasses on.  

“The Harley?” You move towards the garage.  

“Yes honey, I know. I'm not sure how to say this but... well... “. She paused. “Your dad gave her to Ope.” she said in a whisper, knowing how much this may upset you.  

Yes. You’re riddled with anger and more confusion than ever; you wanted nothing but to break down and cry. But your mom didn’t need to deal with that. You look at her, seeing her wrinkles increase with concern.  

“Oh.. Okay, geez. Sorry mum, I thought the worst. Thought that it had been stolen. I'm sorry to wake you”. You whispered calmly.  

“That's quite alright dear, now get some sleep”. She blows you a kiss as you quietly close the door.  

What the fuck. You can’t help but feel like you’ve failed your dad.

He was dying, and you didn't show up. Opie did.  

You slammed back your drink, looking at the letter while putting your glass down. Every fiber of your being wanted to rip this open and read the mystery that resides inside.  

“I’m not thinking clearly”. You rubbed your eyes as you glared at it one more time.  

“Opie”

You put the letter on your nightstand, hands in your hair. “I’ll Just deal with it tomorrow” you told yourself. With one last look, you shook your head and crawled into bed.  

Before closing your eyes, you check your phone.  

7 missed calls - Declan.  

Fuck. “I’ll just deal... with it...tomorrow” You say to yourself a little louder. You toss your phone back in your bag and let the alcohol take you away.  

                                                                               The paper makes a quiet shuffle as you throw it onto the counter. Your mom looks over from the stove peering up through her glasses. “What’s that?” she questions.

“That, is a letter to Opie...from dad” You respond sternly.

“Oh really?” She hums as she walks over to inspect it closer. “Well would you look at that, I wonder if he forgot to give it to him”.  

“Maybe” you mumble. She hands the letter back to you. You take it in your hands, flip the paper and start to open it.  

“What on earth are you doing?!” She lectures as she rips it from your hands.  

“Is it so bad that I want to know what it says? what if it’s important?” You say with raised eyebrows. You already know how wrong this is, you just needed someone to confirm it.  

“Well then I’d suggest you take that Barracuda for a drive and go to TM and deliver it to him” she says as she puts one hand on her hip.  

That’s not what you were expecting.

“Your father clearly had more to say, and you’re robbing Opie of that, the longer you hold onto that letter”.  

You scoff. “You can’t be serious. I haven’t been there in years, mum. I don’t even know if I'd be welcomed!”.

“Only one way to find out” She turns and attends to the stove “Tell the boys I say hi.”

It’s happening. You’ve got your ripped skinny jeans on, your black tank top accessorized with your favorite worn out leather jacket recovered from your closet. You walk out of the house into the daylight towards your ride, your heeled boots thudding against the gravel.  

“You better be dancing on that rainbow dad” you mutter as you fire up the engine, bringing her to life.  

You peel out of the driveway, and race down the road. The sun shining down on your face, the fresh California air consuming you. You can’t fight the grin that appears as you delve into this feeling. It's been a few years, but it feels the same. There’s something that feels so right about wearing leather, driving a sexy car, and heading to the clubhouse. Your hair flows in the wind as you course through the back roads to that fork you saw a couple days ago.  

Left

You skid as you turn sharply, causing a burnout as you squeal down that road. Laughter escapes you, this amazing feeling arises, just by knowing you’re going to see the boys. You weren’t just a part of their gang when you dated Opie, they became your friends. You joined them on every travel trip they took for “club business”, riding on the back of Opie's bike. You partied with them, cheered on their cage fights. They were all you knew when you were in and out of high school. They were your life, here in Charming.  

As much as you feared seeing Opie in the flesh again, you couldn’t deny your excitement.  

Teller-Morrow Automotives

You turn into the driveway, the gate already opened and pulled to the side. You notice the lack of Harleys that are usually parked by the railing.  

You kill the engine. “Shit might have been a bad time to pull up.” You swing open the door and step out.  

“Holy shite! Bobby, it’s her!” You smile at the Scottish accent travelling across the lot.  

“Shut up! Y/N!” Bobby calls out to you. You laugh as you watch Chibs and Bobby practically skip-run over to you, smacking each other on the back.  

“Hey hey boys, long time no see!” You smile wide as these two grown men bear hug you, creating a huddle of you three.  

“Jesus Christ lass, I thought I'd never see you again,” He grabs your head to plant a big kiss to your cheek.  

“What’re you talking about, I knew she couldn’t stay away, she's always been a crow” Bobby chuckles as he grabs your shoulder, shaking you.  

“Something like that” you wink back.  

“Oh shite, darlin’ that’s right, I’m sorry to hear about Mr. M” Chibs hugs you again apologetically. Bobby nods at you as you look over Chibs shoulder.  

“He was a good man”.

“Thanks Bobby” You whisper.  

“I actually thought you was your mum pulling up in here, in his old ride” Chibs barked as he started inspecting your barracuda. “She looks like she could use a wee bit of a touch up aye, maybe a polish?”  

“I mean, I did just tear up the roads of Charming coming down here, no surprise if there’s some damage.” You winked at Bobby.  

“Ayyee That’s my girl” Chibs growls. “Come on inside, we’ve got a lot of catching up to do”.  

“Oh actually, I can’t stay” you watch as their faces fall slightly.  

“I’ve gotta see Ope, got something to deliver to him” You murmur looking down. Geez get a grip  

The boys ever so painfully, obviously glance at each other with the smuggest of expressions.  

“Oh, do you now” Chib grins.  

“Don’t give me that” you roll your eyes with a smile.  

Bobby spins, hearing it before us. The roar of the comrade coming down the street.  

“Aye looks like you can make your delivery right now” Chibs chirps at you.  

You suck on your teeth before blowing your lips “Looks that way.”

There they are  

Riding up like cowboys on stallions. You watch as you place your hands on your hips, inspecting each bike and rider. Narrating in your head.  

There's Tig, Happy, Juice, Rat, Jax and of course, Opie

Your stomach begins to flutter. You’re already overcome with intrusive thoughts.  

Was this a mistake?

Tig is the first to hop off his bike, throwing his helmet down on the ground with his mouth agape. “Hey! Is that... Is that who I think it is?”  

You shyly wave at Tig, failing at suppressing your excitement.  

You squeal as Tig bee lines it to you, running like a madman, trying to scare you just like he used to before.  

“Tig! Oh my god, you still do that” You laugh as he scoops you up, holding you in his arms.

“You son of a bitch, you think you can go nomad on us and not expect any consequences?” He growls, pretending to bite you as he continues to twirl you.  

“I'm not even a member!” you blurt out through your laughs.  

Out of the corner of your eye, you see Jax pat Opie's back as they walk up to you.  

“I told you she’d come bro” you hear Jax say, smiling from ear to ear. You notice a hint of a smile hiding in Opie's beard.  

“Okay okay, share her you psycho, before you break her” Happy grunts as he deliberately peels Tig’s arms off you, just to engulf you in his.  

“Hi Happy” You muffle in his chest.

Happy always gave the best hugs. You feel yourself glowing, being charged with nostalgia. The happiness these boys bring you, just by the sounds of their laughs and banter. Like nothing ever changed. Happy pulls away, patting your head, then messing up your hair, “About time you came back” he says through his smirk.  

Like you’re his little sister, you try and smooth out the mess in your hair that Happy had to create. You do so as Jax approaches you, his blue eyes making you fall in love with the president all over again, he still has that charm. Back in the day, he almost won you over when you first met the boys, but when he introduced you to his best friend, the game was over. Opie effortlessly owned your heart.  

“Hey Darlin, you lost?” Jax winks as he pulls you into him by your waist. Okay you lied, Jax gave the best hugs. You wrap your arms around his neck as you feel his beard tickle you. You both squeeze tightly before you pull back to see him.  

“I heard about Mr. McGuire, I’m so sorry darlin” he whispers, his eyes filled with sorrow “Charming isn’t the same without him” He pinches your chin lightly.  

“Aye we don’t have our lucky leprechaun anymore, harassing the streets for information, I miss that bastard” Chibs says.  

“Thank you guys, truly. I really appreciate it. It’s been surreal to be back, and today has by far been the best day of my trip. I missed you guys” You speak softly, feeling vulnerable in this crowd of the most dangerous men in California.  

“That’s right, we have that effect on people, they just love us y’know” Tig cackles, clearly still thinking he’s the funniest thing alive.  

The group clammers and hollers, inviting you to come inside.  

“Listen, I … actually need a moment with Opie, if you don’t mind.” You get the words out, but as if you’re a shy schoolgirl.  

You see Opie’s head snap up. Eyes locking in with yours, as if you’ve shocked his core.  

“Alright, y’all heard the boss, clear out. We got church anyways, Ope, I know your vote, so no rush.”  

Jax leans into you, planting a kiss on your cheek. “Take your time Darlin.. Oh, by the way we’re throwing a party here for Ope, he’s getting promoted” He nods in his brother's direction “We would love for you come.” He grabs your hand, his cold rings bringing down your body temperature as it rises due to his touch.  

“Aye, she is, how else is she gun’ pay for that tune up” Chibs winks at you before blowing you a kiss.  

Before you can even argue that you shouldn’t go, the boys were already marching to the clubhouse. Everyone but Tig, who stood there, hands on his hip, staring through his shades.  

“Trager, let's go!” Jax orders.  

“Why? I wanna see what happens” Tig turns back to you, bearing a full smile. You see Opie raise his hands up in the air, mouthing to his straggly haired brother “What the fuck?”  

“Alright alright calm down, don’t get your panties in a twist, it’s not good for you” Opie rolls his eyes in defeat as Tig could never be subtle. Tig holds his finger in your direction “Good to see you doll, better see you here tonight.” With a swift hair fix, he makes his departure, walking away with the swagger he always possessed.  

You smirk “Fucking Tig” the corners of your lips stay upturned. Opie quietly chuckles, shaking his head.  

You suck in the air sharply, suddenly feeling incredibly exposed being all alone with Opie.  

“Is everything okay?” He breaks the silence with his gruff but honey-like voice, holding a firm grip on his beard.

You chuckle nervously, “Yeah, sorry to take you away from work.. I uh-”

“Nah, don’t be sorry, I'm happy you’re here cause y’know” He pauses with a click of his tongue “not sure when I'll see you again.. Could be another half a decade” He basically speaks under his breath near the end of his sentence.  

His arms are crossed, making him seem even bigger, taller, more intimidating than he already is. How is that possible? Yet seeing his wide stance, tattooed arms and slick back-man bun already cause embers to erupt into flames around your heart.  

“Well..that wasn’t my fault” You mumble looking down, eyebrows raised, yet peering up through your lashes. The two of you lock eyes, facial expressions turning smug matching one another as he grins, you grin back. The sarcasm you two shared seems to be very much alive.

“You look good” He smiles, flashing his silver fang, his gaze trailing down your figure before clenching his jaw.  

Your body quivers, responding to his not to subtle eye fuck, to the point you’re worried he might have noticed. His smile turns smug confirming he most definitely did.  

“Thanks” You bit your lip desperately, trying to conceal your smile. “Uhm .. right, here I meant to give you this.” You hand out the letter in one swift motion.  

“What’s this?” He asks, brows furrowed as he tentatively takes it from you. A shockwave of sparks jolted through you as his hand touched yours, causing your heart to flutter.  

“A letter...” You inhale deeply “from dad.” You chew on the inside of your lip, anxious to find any sign from Opie, regarding what mystery lies in that envelope.  

Ope glances up from the paper that looks so tiny in his hands, his eyes narrowing into yours.  

“Well, that’s unexpected” he clears his voice. “Thanks for giving it to me”

“Yeah, I mean I found it in his jacket and to be honest if it wasn’t for mum, I probably would’ve opened it so, you can thank her.” Why am I saying this

To your surprise, he chuckles. “You’ve never been good at that.”  

“At what?” You cock your head, making him grin.  

“Keeping your curiosity at bay, you always gotta find the meaning behind everything, even if it gets you in trouble.”  

You stare at him, unsure if that was a compliment or an insult.  

“I’m just pulling your leg” he says as he realizes your panic, loving how innocent you can be. Great, he can still read me like an open book.  

“Oh” You chuckle, feeling so fucking stupid. “Well, congratulations on your promotion, I better get back though.. It was nice seeing you... VP, take care.”  

You turn quickly, wanting to disappear. You feel disappointment arise in you, wishing this wasn’t a sequel to another goodbye. You’ve only been with him for a few minutes, and it terrifies you how quicky your feelings come undone, as if they have a mind of their own, fighting against your carefully constructed barriers. Surely, this was a bad idea after all.  

“Wait, hey wait” He calls after you, matching your steps from behind. You can feel his presence towering over you. He gently grips your arm to turn you. With a spin, you face him, your heart armored, ready to end this interaction once and for all. You just can’t take it anymore. His perfection cuts into you like broken glass, how did you ever lose him?  

“You really should come to the party tonight, they’re a lot of fun and- and the boys, they miss you so much, I... I feel like we have so much to catch up on.” He pauses watching your face shift, stunned at his words “Just come tonight, even for a little while.”  

“Please” He gazes at you.  

Wait, is he letting his guard down?  

He looks down at you, running one hand in his hair, making it extremely difficult to ignore the muscle bulging out of his bicep. “I’ll come pick you up, go for a little spin like old times” he motions towards his parked Harley.  

You nod, absorbing the high this man emits, just by hearing he wants time with you.  

“Okay.. maybe I will, I miss the boys a lot too, and... I think I've earned a night off with a few drinks and good music” You say smiling.  

“Yea, you have” He smiles back. “Uhm thanks again for the letter” he starts his descent backwards. “I’ll see you tonight okay, sweetcheeks?” He shoots a thumbs up at you.

Lightning strikes inside of you. He always called you sweetcheeks when you dated. Hearing it literally makes your body react, your core squeezing, your breath stolen.  

“Alright big guy” you chuckle.  

“Promise?” He hollers, his back to you, walking to the club.  

You chuckle harder, “I Promise!” You catch him sneak one more glance at you, his smile not so hidden anymore.  

You stand alone in the lot, trying to wrap your head around the fact that you might be right back to where you started? What you thought would be the end of a chapter, might be the beginning of one.  

You huff to yourself in disbelief, wondering if accepting this sudden shift within you is the right call. It’s familiarity overpowering. Your smirk as you know this outfit isn’t temporary anymore. The girl that wore jeans and leather religiously is returning. Deep down you already know you plan to make the most of it before your clock runs out, sending you back to where you came from.  

That’s it. Tonight, will be a night where history will unfold. It’ll be a night of release, a chance to be yourself again, unpolished. A night that will end with answers. 

It’ll be a night that Opie will never forget, and something tells you, neither will you.  

[theculturedmarxist]

What would the world look like if the pandemic never ended, if Covid was causing widespread, long-term illness, and if all this was being covered up by the government?

You might expect to see record levels of sickness and disability. You might expect to see hard evidence that the ‘herd immunity’ plan failed, with children continuing to die at staggering rates. You might expect record numbers of absences in schools and workplaces, tons of canceled concerts and airline flights, more sudden/unexplained deaths in all age groups, and a rise in opportunistic infections (caused by damaged immune systems), like fungal infections or strep A. There would be a coordinated effort to hide data from the public to obscure the truth of the threat. Hospitalizations, cases, and transmission numbers would all be hidden or manipulated. The government probably wouldn’t try to hide the data all at once, because it would be easier to dismantle reporting over the course of several months or years.

Eventually, updates might cease altogether (despite rising cases). The CDC would likely have to hide death data as well. Powerful people with vested interests in keeping the economy running would probably engage in astroturfing online, spreading misinformation to convince the public the threat has passed (to get people back to work and boost corporate profits). The rich and powerful would continue to take precautions, while telling you everything’s fine. This would take a lot of effort, and there would have to be a pretty carefully-coordinated campaign to confuse (and wear down) the public. They might tell you repeatedly how much you shouldn’t be panicking. Hospitals might prioritize a sense of “normalcy” over infection control, so as not to be held (legally and financially) responsible for their role in the unfolding disaster.

The ruling class (who would have access to the truth of the situation) would use their knowledge of what’s coming to invest in long-term care facilities, nursing homes, disability services, and hospices. Some people would obviously figure out what’s going on (like scientists, for example) and start shouting about it from the rooftops. So you’d probably see extreme censorship measures happening on social media sites. As conditions worsen, government officials might start preparing the public to accept mass death, reassuring us that it will only happen to the ‘vulnerable.' Life insurance companies would take note and move accordingly, denying coverage to people suffering from Long Covid. Meanwhile, the scientific evidence would keep mounting.

We are still in a pandemic.

The pandemic is not over. Basically everything you have been led to believe about the virus is a lie. Covid is more dangerous, more transmissible, and more out of control than everyone in power is telling you. We are not back to normal. We are in freefall.

We were lied to at every step of the way. First we were told not to panic and to stay six feet apart. We were told not to panic, ordered by the surgeon general not to buy up face masks, which we were assured we wouldn’t need. Then, we were told to only wear masks if sick or caring for someone with symptoms. When we were all finally told to wear masks in April 2020, we were given bad information about which masks could keep us safe. Cloth and surgical masks do not protect against aerosols (respirators do). And we were told by the people in power these flimsy masks would keep us safe. This was a lie.

The lies that killed us

Documents show that the World Health Organization knew from the start that SARS-Cov-2 was airborne.  They knew that “[a]irflow and ventilation were identified as important factors influencing efficient spread in hospitals,” but did not provide ventilation guidance to the public for years. Instead, this information was withheld from the public; they told the world that Covid spread through droplet transmission and repeatedly insisted Covid was not airborne. Because WHO withheld this crucial information, people around the world did not take necessary airborne precautions, like wearing respirators instead of baggy surgical masks.

Images from the World Health Organization’s publications acknowledging airborne transmission of SARS, juxtaposed with their guidance to the public in 2020. Compiled by Maarten De Cock (@mdc_martinus) on Twitter.

When the vaccines were first made available in late 2020, many leaders and prominent experts told people that the shots would prevent transmission entirely. This was never true; vaccines provide some protection, but don’t stop transmission (and only slightly reduce your risk of Long Covid). Americans were told by the president that they had a choice: “vaxxed or masked,” leading many vaccinated people to stop masking.

Throughout 2021, Americans were told repeatedly that Covid was only a threat to the unvaccinated. The CDC confidently asserted through December 2021 that “Cases of reinfection with COVID-19 have been reported, but remain rare.” While they were pushing this claim, the CDC was conveniently no longer reporting vaccination status alongside information on Covid deaths. (That information would remain hidden until April of 2022).

Once vaccinated people were getting sick with Covid in large numbers and the data could no longer be fully suppressed, the government told everyone that a vaccine plus a breakthrough infection would give you hybrid immunity. Experts declared that this form of ‘immunity’ would be the ticket to ending the pandemic. Then Omicron happened and cases skyrocketed.

The lies continued from there. We were told Omicron was somehow ‘milder,’ we were told that because nearly everyone got it, that we would finally reach population-level ‘immunity.’

But viruses do not automatically evolve to become milder. And Covid did not become milder; it became more insidious, more contagious, and more immune evasive. We now know it is neuroinvasive (even in cases with ‘mild’ acute symptoms), vascular, mass disabling, and far deadlier than what official totals have led us to believe. We know now that most transmission happens asymptomatically, and that reinfections are even more dangerous than initial infections. We know that at least one in ten infections leads to Long Covid, a debilitating neurological disease with no cure. We know this virus dysregulates immune systems, destroys T cells, and directly infects arteries in the heart. And as a result of all of this, we’re seeing unprecedented levels of sickness on a global scale.

We are living through an ongoing democide, being covered up in real time.

Hiding the bodies

The people in power have used every tool at their disposal to downplay, lie about, and cover up the truth of this pandemic. As the cases continued to rise (despite their assurances that things were under control), the US government took even greater steps to keep the public calm and unaware. They changed the way they calculated and shared information about community transmission, changing the scary-looking red map from a comforting green one overnight. The number of cases didn’t go down. But the green map gave people a false sense of belief that things were improving. The CDC called the new map system the Community Levels map. Most people mistakenly thought low Community Levels meant low community transmission, but this confusing system relied on hospitalizations, a lagging indicator.

After, and before. The mostly-green map on the left is dated March 10, 2022 and the map on the right is dated March 9, 2022.

In addition to changing the map, the CDC also made major changes to the ways that Covid cases, hospitalizations, and deaths were tracked. The changes always served to ensure that totals were undercounted. The CDC was manipulating the data, sweeping bodies under the rug. But these changes were made gradually and largely without the public’s awareness. In January 2022, they moved to end daily Covid death reporting by hospitals; by February, they had officially done so. By March 2022, some US states started shutting down daily Covid death reporting altogether.

What the public did eventually hear via the news was that the numbers were trending down. ‘Hospitalizations are down,’ the news told everyone—neglecting to inform all of us of the changes the CDC made to its reporting that artificially deflated these totals in multiple ways.

Hiding the data was not enough to get everyone to accept continued, repeated infections. The government wanted all of us to believe that catching Covid repeatedly was unavoidable and the acceptable cost of keeping everything running. If people were able to avoid becoming repeatedly infected, this lie wouldn’t hold. So they changed the guidance for schools, saying that there was no longer a need for masks, testing, or quarantines. They changed the isolation guidelines so that infectious people were sent back to work after just five days (down from ten)—at the request of the CEO of Delta Airlines. They ended the mask mandates in healthcare and transportation. Allowing people longer absences from work would set a precedent for workers demanding regular sick leave; it was crucial to not let ten-day absences become the norm or the expectation.

Testing moved to the private market, and fewer and fewer people retained the ability to test themselves regularly. And the people who are testing are largely relying on at-home rapid tests—whose results are not being reported anywhere.

On top of all of this, the CDC director called masks the “scarlet letter” of the pandemic. Over and over, the messaging from leadership stated that masks were a burden, masks marked you as an outsider, masks were outdated. They created immense social pressure for people to stop masking. As long as people continued to wear masks in public spaces, the threat remained visible and on others’ minds. Pushing everyone to drop their masks was big business’s way of ensuring people believed the pandemic was over so that they would resume traveling, spending money, and stimulating the economy without reservations.

In August of this year, just three months after ending the global public health emergency, the World Health Organization went as far as to stop sharing Covid-19 Epidemiological Updates. When announcing this change, they stated that “reported cases do not accurately represent infection rates due to the reduction in testing and reporting globally.”

Now, wastewater data is the only accurate data we have left. This data shows the concentration of Covid in sewage wastewater samples from across the country (the virus is shed in our poop when we get sick). And this crucial data is also under threat. Biobot Analytics, the company that provided much of the US wastewater data, lost its contract with CDC NWSS this month. The new contract went to Verily, a company owned by Alphabet (Google’s parent company). The switch is leading to data gaps, as well as changes in sample processing and analysis that will make data from some sites no longer directly comparable with the sites covered by Biobot. Others have noted that, unlike Biobot, Verily offers “little in terms of comprehensible data in regional or national terms.”

Without accurate data on current cases, transmission rates, hospitalizations, and deaths, we have no way of knowing the full scope of the current crisis. Our house is on fire; alarms removed, the public sleeps.

Government mitigations

The government knows that the pandemic is not over. The US Department of Defense is investing in state-of-the-art wearables that can predict if wearers are getting sick. The devices use biometrics and predictive algorithms (trained on hospital-acquired data) to detect infectious diseases up to 48 hours before any symptoms appear. The wearables are part of the Rapid Assessment of Threat Exposure (RATE) project, which recently got $10 million worth of additional funds.  

Everyone who meets with President Joe Biden is PCR tested beforehand.

White House Press Secretary Karine Jean-Pierre recently confirmed that strict COVID-19 testing protocols remain in place, saying, "Anybody who meets with the president does indeed get tested." White House interns still have to agree to wear masks when asked.

When Biden gave a maskless speech last year at Richard Montgomery High School during a period of high Covid transmission, gym windows were removed to rig a temporary high-end ventilation setup. Parents at the school were outraged, and teachers took to Twitter to share photos of the air handling units. NALTIC Industrials called the setup “unprecedented.” Meanwhile, the US government continued to insist on the safety of America’s schools, telling parents to send their kids maskless to poorly-ventilated classrooms.