#at least it completely vaccinated me against doing it more

[mellosdrawings]

I'm feeling like rambling about AI on main, ignore me if it's not your cup of tea.

So a while ago, I did check out those art prompts AI, because when I pester about something, I like to know what I'm rambling about. I like to do a minimum of research and, if possible, try the thing out before making my opinion. For AI art, my opinion was already pretty solid, but I still wanted to check it out.

I found a free prompt stuff online, asked it a super easy prompt, and asked for a handful of different images. Just to see.

The prompt was [character tripping]. Really. Super easy, right? I wanted the thing to have as much liberty as possible.

It's not just that though. I chose this prompt because it is something I did in art school. Our teacher would give us simple prompts, and we would have to draw doodles in 5 minutes or less. Imagine a class of 15 exhausted art students full of caffeine being told to draw someone tripping.

The 15 art students' results? Little boys tripping over tree roots, teenage girls falling while rollskating, business men tripping on their papers and burning themselves with coffee, old ladies cracking a hip, comical falls backwards with a leg up, realistic falls forward with pained expressions, etc etc.

See, our fast doodles weren't any better than AI anatomically speaking. We were missing hands and our faces were distorted and a foot was bigger than another, things that are also common with AI. But the DIVERSITY. I remember being flabbergasted by it. We all had the same prompt, but none of us drew the same thing. I remember drawing the good old banana peel slip from the old comics I read when I was a kid. My best friend drew a kid falling in mud.

We did several prompts like that as training, and I always loved to see what everybody was doing, because it was always so different.

Now, here was the AI result: 5 anime girls in a running position at an angle, making shocked pikachu faces. Every. Single. One. Of. Them. The angle and the running poses were the only things that changed, and even then just slightly.

The AI only did 5 times the same stuff. Art style changed a bit from one to the other, but always the same vibe, always the same composition, and always that godsdamned shocked pikachu face. It was very underwhelming.

I don't care about perfect anatomy and lighting. But I care about creativity. I love seeing things that I would never have thought to do myself. And the AI didn't provide that at all. Coz AI has no creativity whatsoever. If you don't further your prompt to be very specific, it will just reheat the same bland stuff again and again. It's just boring.

I have a lot of grievances about AI. Art theft, environmental blunder, artists being paid even less than they already were (as if people and companies suggesting to pay us in visibility wasn't bad enough). But even on an emotional level there's nothing. Yes, it's great to see one's character/idea brought to life when one cannot draw. But it'll be the blandest stuff ever. That's just a shame.

[am-i-the-asshole-official]

Am I the asshole for hanging out with someone less in-person, and more online?

Here me out first please.

My buddy Austin (he/him) and I usually hang out at least every other week, if not every week. We've been doing this for the last few years after we both got more conformable doing in-person hangouts after the covid vaccines reached the general public in our country.

About a year ago, Austin was in a car accident (not a major one, don't worry) and walked away with a mild concussion (doctor's description). Ever since that car accident, Austin has been super sensitive to sound. In his words, walking across his floor in socks sounds like elephant stomping. His floor is carpet. Typing on a phone is so loud and distracting he can't hear anything else. Birds outside his house sound like they're chirping directly into his ear. He vents to me often that having a regular-volumed conversation sounds so loud it's painful to him.

When I'm over at his house, I try to be as quiet as I can. I'm careful to soft-step around the house and not take my shoes off. I try to shuffle or slide through the kitchen and other rooms that are not carpet so I make less noise. We whisper or half-whisper half-speak to each other in conversation. Movies we have subtitles on and the volume turned down to almost 0%. But Austin still looks like he's in pain by the end of a couple hour hang-out. Sometimes he'll get up and put in earplugs and then come back to continue the hangout. I feel really bad that he's putting himself through so much.

The last few months, instead of always hanging out in-person, I've been suggesting doing something virtual and letting Austin decide which he wants. I figure that if we're gaming, he can wear his earplugs or mute the game and we can use game chat or text each other to communicate. Same with watching movies, we can both adjust our volumes to our comfort levels (and leave subtitles on still. I don't mind them). Sometimes he wants to just do things online, and sometimes he insists on hanging out in-person. It's been about 60/40 online to in-person so far.

We hung out last weekend and first Austin said let's hang out in-person, but the night before we were supposed to hang out, he told me he rather hang out online this time. I was cool with it, but when I let my roommate Geoff (who is also good friends with Austin) know that actually I'd be home most of the day Saturday and answered Geoff's "why are you hanging out with Austin online again?" with "i don't know, Austin probably wants a quiet weekend instead", my roommate started accusing me of infantilizing Austin by hanging out online instead of in-person, that I'm abandoning Austin because his "auditory disablility is too inconvenient for fragile able-bodied feelings" (Geoff's words), and how since Austin hasn't explicitly said that in-person hanging out is too loud for him, then I'm being ableist by assuming things are too loud when he hasn't directly said that I am too loud. I argued that I don't think of Austin as lesser, I just don't want to cause him any unnecessary pain, and it's pretty obvious when things are too loud for him without words, because you can read the "Make it stop" / "No more" expression on his face. But Geoff doubled down really hard and told me i should be ashamed of treating Austin like he's incapable of making his own choices.

I was pissed and just walked out with my laptop. We did our movie day with me on the local library wifi instead. I don't think for a second I've taken away Austin's ability to choose, since I let Austin make the call on in-person or online!! But I'm also completely able-bodied. I haven't even experienced a temporary disability-experience like needing crutches during injury recovery or anything. Geoff has a chronic pain and fatigue disorder, so he has more experience with microaggressions than I do. So I don't know if I'm right about this being a non-issue, or if Geoff is right about me being ableist against Austin's noise sensitivities. It keeps eating at me now, and I don't want to bring this up with Austin since I already know he's really insecure about his new volume tolerance levels. Am I an asshole for doing online hangouts with Austin instead of sticking to only in-person stuff?

[i-still-mask-because]

in the wake of all this new information during COVID, do you feel that maybe we should all just be masking all the time, COVID of no COVID? I mean it can't be the only airborne disease out there and immunocompromised ppl have always and will always exist so like. Following that thinking even if we don't have COVID we could still be risking other people's health (and lives) with other diseases we may have right? Idk I'm stressing a lot about this do I just need to wear a mask outside forever cos. Masks mess with my breathing and sensory issues and stuff but. I don't wanna?? Kill people by accident??? Aaaaa

Hello, thanks for reaching out about this.

I saw this ask about a month ago, and I needed time to think about how I'd respond to it (so I want to thank you for the patience!).

I'll try to answer all of this to the best of my ability, and I thought I'd answer this by going backwards (responding to the last things you said and then moving up with responding to the first things you said).

Everything is below the cut because this is very long!

First I'll try to summarize what I think you're asking here:

"Vulnerable people exist in this world all around me, therefore does this mean I'm constantly posing a threat to those vulnerable people's safety when I don't mask? The thought of this brings me feelings of stress, fear, and anxiety."

I find this is hard to answer candidly without risking stressing out you or anyone else who's aware of the consequences of their choice not to mask. Nonetheless, my honest answer is: yes, choosing not to mask means risking the lives and safety of vulnerable people, i.e. the disabled, immunocompromised, elderly, children & babies, and those that intersect those groups. That risk can take place directly (such as interacting with an immunocompromised elder) or indirectly (such as interacting with the parent of a disabled child).

I also want to add that it's not only those groups that need protecting. I firmly believe that regardless of your age and/or whether or not you self-identify as disabled or immunocompromised that everyone is at risk of the long-term consequences of this rapidly mutating, vascular, and immunosuppressive virus. No one is invincible to this, and I'll add: not even if you're vaccinated (still get vaccinated if you can, but know that you can still catch covid & develop long covid regardless of your vaccination status).

1. "Masks mess with my breathing and sensory issues."

I understand how that can be difficult to deal with, trust me. There are specific masks (such as most standard KN95s) that irritate the hell out of my face after a certain point. The way those specific masks brush against the hairs of my cheeks just make me want to rip the mask off my face completely. Finding alternatives has been a lifesaver, and they've allowed me to get through the day without wanting to maul someone lol. I don't know what masks you have tried out already, so I'll just recommend the one's I like as well as the one's I've heard good reviews on from people that also have sensory issues:

NIOSH 3m Aura N95 Respirators

Flo Mask

GATA Mask (Haven't tried this one yet, but I've heard a LOT of people say this has been a game changer for them because of how comfortable it is & how it doesn't trigger much sensory issues at all due to its silicone material. Probably the only con I've heard is the chance of the build up of moisture in the mask after a long period of use & water possibly dripping on your face— this happens to me sometimes with my Flo Mask. Edit on Sept. 26, 2023: I tried GATA Mask, and I personally have a tough time getting a comfortable fit & seal with it, even when getting the small/medium size for adults to see if it'll make a difference, and the nose bridge shape not fitting well for me is a huge con. Customer service is just suggesting I spend more, so I'll just give this one a break, for now at least. A lot of other people seem to like it though.)

Halyard FLUIDSHIELD [ASTM Level 3] Mask (My mom works in a hospital, and these are masks she brings home from work. They're VERY comfortable for me, especially when I'm masking at home. I recommend finding a way to tighten the loops that go around your ears to prevent as much gaps around the mask as possible. If tight loops hurt your ears easily, I recommend a mask brace.)

O2 Nose Filters (I haven't tried these out yet as well, but I've seen videos demonstrating how effective these are at filtering out SOOO many unseen particles. I don't recommend using these alone of course, because there's still a risk of inhaling harmful aerosols through your mouth. I would recommend using this as a reinforcement of the protective measures you take. For example: adding on a comfortable surgical mask— ideally one with a high filtration efficiency like the previous suggestion— with the nose filters. I think these nose filters would be great if you're removing your mask real quick to take a sip of water or if you're outdoors with enough distance from crowded areas & groups.)

In the ideal world, more people would mask during this on-going pandemic so those that deal with sensory issues and/or those that straight-up can't wear a mask due to medical reasons wouldn't have to worry so much about choosing between existing & risking their health. For now, we just have to find alternatives.

2. "Do I need to wear a mask outside forever?"

My answer to this is: yes until further notice. There's no foreseeable end to this pandemic right now, but it would be worth the patience to wait for adequate tech, treatment, and cures for covid-19 to be released before even thinking about getting loose with masking.

Societal mandates have been dropped way too soon, and public health in regards to covid-19 is being forced on us as an individual responsibility. As a consequence, this gives this rapidly mutating virus a lot of wiggle room to spread and do whatever it wants. This means doctors and experts don't have much answers yet for adequate treatment because there's a MAJOR lack of containment (such as masking & quarantining) and documentation (such as testing & reporting). This isn't to say there hasn't been any advancements whatsoever: for example, Washington University just developed a breath test for covid that gives results in just 1 minute! This is great news! And this is just one reason why it's very necessary for those who can mask to mask, so scientists are given more time to roll out helpful solutions & tools sooner.

Another thing I'll add is if you're symptomatic and/or are positive for covid, you should 100% be wearing a mask no matter what, point blank period. I say "and/or" because it is VERY much possible to have covid and not experience any symptoms at all; this is a major reason why it's necessary to mask up in public consistently, because you can't always know who you bump into that may have covid or not.

3. "Even if we don't have covid, we could still be risking other people's health (and lives) with other diseases we may have right?"

Yes, there is a possibility of spreading airborne diseases to vulnerable people unknowingly— without the protective & preventative tools that is.

I can only speak for America because that's the cultural zeitgeist I grew up in, but: I feel like many of us can agree that, unless you worked in a healthcare setting, what was "normal" (in America) before 2020 when it came to airborne illness prevention was definitely not the regular use of a mask. American health education mainly taught us if we're coughing & sneezing to try to do so in a tissue or into your elbow, as well as frequently wash our hands. That doesn't account for the way air actually works though. For instance, if someone with the common cold coughed into the inside of their elbow, the particles they coughed out are still able to linger in the air because their elbow isn't creating a tight seal around their mouth (their elbow may have caught the droplets from their cough— which are bigger & heavier— but the smaller, lighter aerosols would just spread around similar to how smoke does); it's the difference between 😪 vs 😶‍🌫️. The only sure way for the germs they've coughed out to be blocked from spreading to other people is if they wear a well-fitted, quality mask/respirator.

I feel like health education from a young age should include the benefits of masking; that way it would be easier to adapt to the need to put on a mask to protect ourselves & others as a collective. It would be phenomenal & wonderful if we as a collective were used to masking the same way we're used to putting on socks before putting on our shoes.

4. "Immunocompromised people have always and will always exist"

Yes, that is true. And that means necessary measures taken to protect them, as well as other vulnerable people, should be the standard.

5. "[Covid] can't be the only airborne disease out there"

Of course not. There's plenty of them. However, not all airborne diseases are the same, nor should they be treated as such. What's been observed in regards to the long-term effects of covid is not at all the same with other airborne diseases. Covid is a highly contagious virus that is more than just a respiratory disease. Its goal is to attack your immune system, nervous system, heart, brain, and/or other vital organs. That's what viruses do. They act smart and sneaky, and they have the capability to trigger illnesses in your body that you may not have had pre-infection:

Chickenpox is known to lead to shingles

Epstein-Barr is known to lead to mono

HPV is known to lead to cancer

Covid-19 has been found to lead to:

POTS

ME/CFS

Stroke & Heart attack

Alzheimer's

Dementia

"Brain Fog"; Memory & Concentration Problems

The list goes on, and these are only what we know of. Covid may not be the only airborne disease, but it definitely is a dangerous one with serious, long-term negative effects.

6. "Do you feel that we should all be masking all the time, whether or not covid-19 exists?"

In regards to masking with the existence of covid:

Yes. Masking is a vital method in the prevention of catching & spreading covid-19, because it is primarily spread through the air.

In regards to masking without the existence of covid:

See my answer for number 3, and also: given the fact wearing a mask can only do more good than harm for most folks, I don't see why not. Imagine a world where we don't have to worry about flu season or allergy season anymore because those aerosols are filtered out from consistent mask wearing. Sounds like the dream to me lol.

-

I hope this made sense! If anyone has anything they'd like to add to answer anon's questions, please feel free to share!

Thank you for reading 😷

[vibratingskull]

Fake dating part 2

Part 1

Tag list

I took @al-astakbar​‘s idea and run with it.

Resume : Alone on an strange planet with a little chiss girl you walk desesperatly trying to reach coordinates given by a beacon. Here you are saved by Grand Admiral Thrawn’s crew and he proposes you an incongruous solution to your problem...

You silently follow the Grand Admiral through the numerous corridors of his ship, it’s enough for you to lose your way you worry. There are so many paths and doors, it hurts your brain. You do your best to follow his long strides on the cold metal floor without shoes. You cross paths with some officers, they all stop on their track to salute their superior and then you feel their curious gaze on you, wondering who you might be and why you’re here, you quickly avert their gaze and lower your head in their presence, careful not to anger anyone. Apparently they are not used to seeing their Grand Admiral followed by someone with a slave collar, that thought is somewhat reassuring. You look at the back of the head of the man holding your life in his hands, detailing his height and imposing measurements. The tight fabric of his uniform does not hide his muscles and Makers know you want nothing to do with them. Those are his assets to kill… You shudder at this thought.

“Here we are.” He softly announces.

He engages himself in a corridor with a large bay window giving on to an operation room, and on the table is…

“Moarorou!” You shout, pressing yourself against the window.

“She is in good hands.” He simply says “I trust them to save her.”

Asleep and perfused, the little girl seems at peace while the droids operate her. You wish you could hold her hand.

“I want to be with her.” You ask, turning towards him.

“Out of the question, it is a sterilized room.” He flat out refuses, “You will see her once they are done.”

You lower your gaze and turn back to the little girl. Poor sweetheart… You feel a burning gaze on you and you don’t dare meet it.

“We should head towards the second room, you need treatment too.” 

You do? You’re so used to being beaten and bruised by now… But it is true, you have scars all over your arms and legs and a burnt wound on your flank.

You obediently follow him to a room where a droid greets you and guides you to an infirmary bed. As the Grand Admiral leaves to give you some intimacy, it proceeds to do a complete check up, from weighing you to blood test and mandatory vaccines after dressing your wounds. You mechanically obey the machine, too used to receiving orders, it would have asked you to shake hands like a dog you would have without asking any questions, this is how deep it is ingrained in you…

“Here.” says Grand Admiral Thrawn right behind you.

You jump out of your skin. When did he come back?

He hands you a pair of boots exactly your size. You take them, unsure. You didn’t have the right to own shoes as a slave, you forgot how it feels. You pass them on after thanking him. It feels like a second skin. Strangely you feel more confident with them. You thank him again.

“Do not mention it, I cannot have anyone walking bare feet in my ISD. Now, do not move.” He slides behind you and you feel him manipulating your shock collar.

He must check your number to verify their registers. You refrain from sighing, an imperial remains an imperial, whatever happens.

You hear a click.

And your collar falls on your lap. You look at it, dumbfounded.

“Sir?”

You thought he would have waited for your response and sold you back on the black market if you refused his offer…

“You thought I would not get rid of it?” he asks, seeing your confused expression.

“Well… no, not before I gave you my answer at least…” you explain.

“You brought me back a valuable person. Consider it the payment of my debt to you.” 

You massage your throat, touching it for the first time in years.

“You… you have the right to free someone?” you ask with a small voice.

“I am a Grand Admiral, little is forbidden to me.”

You accept his answer as a fact and don’t press the matter. You mask it but hope is flourishing in your stomach, after so many years… finally!

Karyn Faro enters the infirmary, saluting the Grand Admiral.

“Sir! You asked for me.” She asks in a strong and clear voice.

“Yes, I want you to guide our guest to her new quarters, I will go back to the bridge.” He orders

She nods and signifies to follow her and quicker than that. You hop on your feet and follow her in another maze of corridors, but you start to recognize the patterns, you’re less lost this time.

“There it is.” She opens a large door with a card that she hands you “Do not loose it.”

You enter the room, or rather the suite and stop, turning back to her.

“Are you sure this is the good room?” You wonder.

“Yes. Is there a problem?” 

Well it's… Big. You’re standing in a small living room with sofa and kitchenette, giving on a large bedroom and a privatized bathroom. You’re more used to the cell shared with several other slaves.

“No, it’s… it’s perfect. Thank you.” You bow to her.

She simply nods and goes back to her duty.

You walk into the living room, timidly, afraid to take too much space, to make too much noise, even though you’re alone. You find a remote on a table and press the buttons, curious. A part of the wall opens for a TV screen to appear, you press another one and music starts. Another one pushes a bar off the wall. Okay that’s too much. You tidy, close back the walls and cut the music, put the remote where you found it, like you never touch it and go see the bedroom. It is a large room with a double bed, a wardrobe, a big mirror and a bay window giving on space. The wardrobe is full you notice, with a safe hidden as a drawer. The bathroom is white and clean, with a bath and clean towels, you touch them, they are soft and fluffy. everything for maintaining basic hygiene is here. You can’t resist the urge to brush your teeth when you see the new toothbrush waiting for you. It feels so good and fresh! What a delicious sensation! 

Returning to the bedroom you notice a datapad on the bedside table. You take it and turn it on. You’re curious of that Grand Admiral Thrawn. You search the holonet about him, finding different biographies and videos of him at different ceremonies. An article of the Universal Encyclopedy informs you of his greatest victories and gives you a resume of his life, or at least his life since he appeared in the Empire. What you suspected was right, him and Moarorou aren’t from the Empire, but are from the Unknown Region. He accepted to answer interviews of journalists of the regime but consistently refused to answer anything about his life previous to the Empire. So you got an incomplete portrayal of the man. 

You don’t know much about military things, but his record seems impressive, victory after victory, promotion after promotion, from one medal to the other he seems to supplant any adversaries. Except on the political field. It appears each and everyone of his victories came with a political scandal. 

But he manages to get out of it everytime.

You reopen your eyes when you hear knocks on the door. You must have drifted to sleep without realizing it. You open the door to Faro, awaiting for you.

“The Grand Admiral awaits you for dinner.” She indicates with her strong voice.

You must have slept more than first anticipated, dinner already?

You nods hurriedly and close the door behind you. She looks at you up and down, clearly judging you but says nothing.

“This way, please.”

You walk in silence behind her but curiosity devours you.

“Is it in your prerogatives to take care of priso… of guests?” you dare ask.

“No.” That is all she answers.

“Oh… Then why you-”

“He orders and I obey, simple as that.” And like that, the conversation ends.

You don’t dare raise your voice anymore, and she’s not one to do small talk.

You reach a door with stormtroopers guarding it, she gives one of her cylinders-thing and they step to the side.

“Here.” She says, and left you here, alone with the guards.

The door open and you enter a large suite, rich with decors. The Grand Admiral is standing, hand clasped behind his back, observing something.

You don’t say a word, to not disturb him, fidgeting your fingers.

“Come closer.” He simply says, without even turning towards you.

You approach. He seems enthralled by some vase on a stand.

“What do you see?” he inquires

What? Is he asking you your opinion on how he decorates his chambers?

“A vase.” you answer neutrality.

Never give your opinion.

“And?”

You approach again, observing it more intently. It’s a terracotta of three complimentary colors, surely a wine carafe. It has fine details and some speck of gold sprinkled in the clay.

“Huh… Looks like a hutt jug.” You notice.

He slowly nod.

“Indeed. Can you see anything else?”

“That’s the kind of jug we find in their northern worlds, the south would have used metal. But outside of that…” You shrug, unknowingly.

“That is well.” He murmures. “Dinner is ready.” and he heads to the dressed table. 

He pulls a chair and gallantly invites you to take it, as you approach he looks you up and down. 

"You did not change clothes ?" He asks, puzzled. 

You could ? You do not touch what your masters don't need. 

"I thought the order was to come immediately." You explain 

"You could have taken the time to put on more comfortable clothes than this hospital pajamas. I would not have held it against you, you are my guest." 

Yes, you heard that. 

You sit down and he pushes your chair forward, like he would have done to a high Lady. The table smells deliciously good, making your mouth water with different types of salads and vegetables, a main course with fuming meat, rice and lentils and a bottle of wine. He opens it and serves you first, then himself. 

"Because I brought you someone important ?" You ask as he sits down. 

"Yes."

"And if I did not ?" 

"What do you mean ?" He inquires, cutting his meat.

"If you only found me, a slave alone in the forest, would I still be your guest ?" 

He looks into your eyes with a stern expression 

"Does it matter ?" 

"Yes." You try to control the shivers in your voice "It matters to me."

He doesn't respond, letting silence take place. 

"No. Probably not."

You sigh internally. You knew it. Under his gallant behavior and nice dispositions, he remains an Imperial. A slave trader. 

"Those hypotheses do not matter." He says camly, taking a bite of his dish "The fact is you came together, and you took care of her. I cannot let this good deed go unreward-"

Your stomach growls suddenly, a deep hollow sound. Deeply embarrassing. You flush immediately. 

"Why do you not eat ? Is it not to your taste ?" 

"No !" You hurriedly says "I just… Waited for your permission to eat" You confess

He raises an eyebrow. 

"This is an order you had to obey ?" 

You nod. 

"Those times are behind you." He designates the table filled to the brim, encouraging you.

You slowly serve yourself, a little of each, not too much and start eating delicately using table manners you've seen your masters use. 

He looks at you intently, like he would observe an animal behind bars. 

Your stomach growls again but you don't press yourself. 

"There is nobody to impress here, eat as you please." He says casually.

You look at him to see if he's serious. 

Then you dive on the meat, with your hands you bite into it hungrily, tearing it apart, getting back from years of malnutrition. 

Maker this is so good ! It has been years since you had meat. You gulp it down feverishly, licking the sauce off your fingers, growling with satisfaction. 

He looks at you, caressing his chin. 

You stop. 

"Too much ?" You ask embarrassed, sauce dripping from your chin

 "Everything is well." He shakes his head. "Like I said, those times are behind you. Let's focus on the future."

You listen, munching down your meat with lentils. 

"About this offer I made, you might want to know what it entails." 

You nod, mouth full. 

"You would hold the role of the wife of a Grand Admiral, it comes with some… Obligations. You will need to escort me to galas, ceremonies, spending time with high ranked rich people and pretend you are from the same world. Adopt their codes and customs, abide by their rules. Everywhere you will go you will represent me and all I stand for, your failures will be mine. We will make you a proper high standing lady and need to get your education right as Moarorou's, we will train her and care for her like true parents. There will be a lot of stress and pressure."

"Until we sent her back ?" 

"Indeed." He nods

"And after ?" 

"After you will be free, you could live your life as you want." 

"And if I refuse ?" 

"Then we will disembark you from the ship on a nearby planet with some money and your new life will start that day." 

You slowly nod, wiping your mouth with a napkin. 

"And Moarorou ?" 

"She will need to remain hidden on the Chimaera, alone in a cabin with only droids or complete strangers she can't communicate with to care for her. It would be an oppressive and uncaring environment for a child her age. If you accept, she will get to have two parental figures and a proper education you would take part into, you could use my apartment on Coruscant and offer her, and yourself a better lifestyle."

"For a time…"

"For a time" He concedes

"Why not simply send her to Coruscant ?" 

"I cannot send her alone in this black vipers nest."

"Why? You speak of her so highly, is she some kind of Royalty in your world ?" 

He smiles enigmatically 

"She is so much more valuable than Royalty."

It doesn't advance you. He rises from his seat. 

"Sleep, and tell me your answer tomorrow. The choice is yours."

You follow him to the door, hiding a burp behind your hand. You eat too much. 

"You said I could see her!" if he thought you would forget that…

"Once she wakes up from the operation, you will be free to see her."

He politely escorts you back to your room. You don’t say a thing but you you’re tremendously disappointed, you hoped to Moarorou right after dinner.

“Is there something wrong?” He suddenly asks, stopping in his track.

“No… No.” you lie. 

You castigate yourself. ‘Hide what you think, hide what you feel. Do not let them see.’

He shrugs and continues.

"I wish you good night." He greets you and disappears. 

You spend the night tossing and turning in those fresh clean sheets. Questions assault your mind, and memory of the crash alike. 

What to do ? What to do ? 

Remaining with him could give you protection against your masters, but remaining with an Imperial ? 

Could you do it? Close your eyes on all the atrocities he will commit ? 

But you can't leave Moarorou alone with him. She trusts you. You can't abandon her… 

You sigh. 

In the morning you pass on decent attire. You wince, there are only dresses. You take the most concealing one and walk directly to the Grand Admiral's office. It seems like he's at work for several hours already. 

You inhale deeply, gathering your courage.

"I accept" 

@thrawnspetgoose

[phoenixyfriend]

How many COVID Vaccines have you had?

* religious exemption goes under "do not believe in"

Single-shot complete vaccination goes under "Completely vaccinated," just to be clear.

[crushedgraham]

A fic with Mercy x fem!Reader where reader is afraid of needles and only agrees to let Angela give her the shot she needs to get instead of her actual doctor? 🤍

You're My Silver Lining

sorry for the really inconsistent updating! im slowly getting through requests but work and school have been taking up most of my time 😞 enjoy :3

Training season and new recruits were right around the corner which was unfortunately your least favorite time of the year. Everything was too hot and busy but above all; you had to get your shots.

Vaccines were a top priority during these times to ward off flu's and sicknesses from the close proximities of trainees working with one another. They were the bane of your existence.

The entire process made you feel sicker than a flu would - everything from the smell of the sanitary products to the gleaming needle. Angela was the only silver lining in these situations. Before you had gotten together, you would always see your appointments as opportunities to get close to the doctor (cough only scheduling when she was free cough cough).

But lately the newer recruits have been getting a little too desperate for her attention, she was completely booked which meant you would have to get through the shots without her support - you were fucked.

Your hands fidgeted, clammy fingertips picking at the paper sheet on the medical bed. The unfamiliar environment made things worse. Once your bond with Angela grew, she started doing your shots in her office because it was a lot cozier. Now you were stuck in the fluorescent lit white room that reeked of chemicals.

The sudden knock on the door makes you jump, your heart skipping a beat as it slowly opens to reveal a younger woman in a long doctors coat.

"Hello Agent L/N, I'll be your doctor for today"

You don't meet her eyes instead focusing on her creased white sneakers. The sound of the doctor's palms rubbing hand sanitizer into the skin and the snap from her latex gloves twists your stomach in knots.

"We're just going to be doing two shots, a general vaccine and the seasonal flu vaccine."

The needle between her fingers approaches you sending ice throughout your veins. Suddenly you're panicking because who was this stranger that's trying to give you a shot? That's a task that only Angela was allowed to do. Then before you know it, you're arm is dodging the needle, twisting your body away from the doctor.

"Angela."

"Excuse me...?"

"I need Angela. Dr. Ziegler."

The doctor gives you a strange look, almost judgmental.

"Dr. Ziegler's unavailable at the moment"

"Please, just tell her my name and that it's an emergency"

The woman huffs and sets the needle back down on the sterilized tray. She throws her gloves into the trashcan and you watch her back as she leaves the room. A wave of relief washes over you and you drum your fingers lightly against the thin bed to pass the time.

When the door flings open and you see Angela with a worried expression your heart skips a beat again but this time it's from love not fear.

"Liebling? What's wrong? Dr. Choi told me there was an emergency. Are you hurt??"

She pushes herself in between your thighs, her hands run across your body to check for any injuries that might've been the cause of your outburst. Blue eyes, gleaming behind her glasses, scan your own worriedly.

"...I guess I got so used to you being there to comfort me that I forgot how scary shots normally are."

Angela gives you a look of disbelief and puts her face in her hands with a small laugh of relief. Then she meets your eyes once more with a more serious look. She pinches at your cheeks with furrowed eyebrows.

"Du hast mich erschreckt! I thought you were hurt!"

You whine and push at her hands in pain.

"I am hurt! Emotionally"

She lets out a chuckle while shaking her head. You watch as she goes through the same process of sanitizing her hands then putting gloves on.

"Righttt"

Angela picks up a new needle and stabs it into a small glass jar, filling it with the vaccine. She approaches you, sparing you a knowing look as you cower away when she places her left hand on your arm.

"Take deep breaths for me Liebling"

Your heart rate kicks up but you close your eyes and follow her instructions. Her hand moves up to caress your face when suddenly a mix of sensations flood your body. Though the sting from the shot doesn't compare to the soft kiss she quickly placed on your lips at the same time.

The doctor discards of the empty needle and returns back between your thighs. You throw your arms around her waist while burying your head into the collar of her coat.

"That was mean!"

Angela laughs while placing her own arms around your neck, mindlessly playing with the ends of your hair.

"But it was a good distraction, no?"

You don't respond because you both know she's right so you just stay there, content to lay in her arms.

"Liebling? We still have another shot to do"

"Ugh no!"

------------------------------------------------------------

Liebling - Darling

Du hast mich erschreckt - You scared me

[dreaminginthedeepsouth]

David Rowe

* * * *

The power of not giving up!

November 15, 2024

Robert B. Hubbell

After the preposterous nominations of Matt Gaetz, Tulsi Gabbard, and Pete Hegseth1 on Wednesday, my inbox and the Comment section experienced a spike in reader comments that were a variation of, “This is too much! I give up. Democracy is done for!”

Those reactions are completely understandable. Trump has managed to exceed our worst fears for his cabinet picks. He did so again on Thursday by nominating Robert F. Kennedy Jr. to lead Health & Human Services. Just weeks ago, RFK Jr. was too nutty and toxic for the Trump campaign, which had begun to distance itself from Kennedy, who believes that all vaccines are harmful, antidepressants are responsible for mass shootings, and COVID was engineered to target Caucasians and Blacks while sparing Ashkenazi Jews.

I get it. At this moment, it is easy to feel hopeless and powerless. That is the point of mind-numbing nominations that seek to place federal agencies under the control of unqualified hacks intent on destroying the agencies they will lead. The strongest defense against a psychological terror campaign designed to instill dread and provoke despair is to refuse to give up!

It is not a given that Trump's ludicrous nominees will be confirmed. Nor should we assume that they will be able to do their worst in agencies staffed with hundreds of thousands of qualified, dedicated public servants.

I am not saying that things won’t get bad. They will. I am saying that they will get worse if we give up merely because of threats and bluster by a man schooled in the dark arts of the long con and the Big Lie.

My favorite political writer, Josh Marshall of Talking Points Memo, wrote about the dangers of giving up in advance. See The Most Pernicious Anticipatory Obedience Hides in Plain Sight, Talking Points Memo. (Although the discussion takes place in Josh’s paying members-only newsletter, this article should be accessible to all. My subscription to Talking Points Memo is the best investment I make.)

Marshall writes in part,

You may think there’s some kind of psychic or moral merit in jumping into every conversation and saying “No, it’s over! He said he was going to be a dictator! He said who he was! Believe him! Don’t be so naive!” But really that’s just rolling out a red carpet, the ultimate capitulation in advance. At the very least, put him to the task. Make him execute on what he’s trying to do. It won’t be easy and there are a lot of ways to make it even less easy. That’s the first role of a political opposition. [¶¶] [Giving up is] the most pernicious form of anticipatory obedience. Deciding that all of this stuff has already happened is not only inaccurate but self-defeating. It’s amplifying threats Trump hasn’t been able or willing to make good on. A better answer, both more effective and more dignified, is to say, “Okay, let’s see you try.” It’s not easy. There are lots of road blocks. It requires maintaining a lot of public support. It requires patience.

In citing Marshall’s essay, I do not mean to criticize anyone who wrote to me in exhaustion and fear today to say, “It’s too much. I give up. All is lost.” If that is how you feel, those feelings are understandable and firmly rooted in reality.

But as I responded to some readers today, “You don’t mean that. It is exhaustion and despair talking. You aren’t giving up. You and I both know that.”

There is power in the simple act of not giving up. Even if there is little that we can do in the moment to stop the ludicrous nominations and threats.

Do not give up. If the only thing you can muster is the will not to give up, that is enough—for now.

But we can do more than not giving up. We can engage in small acts of daily resistance. Make a phone call. Write a letter. Send a text or email. For those of you already involved in the grassroots movement, you know the drill.

If you are just joining the fight, there is no better place than Jessica Craven’s Chop Wood, Carry Water newsletter on Substack. Jessica’s daily column includes small acts that you can take to make your voice heard.

On Thursday, Jessica Craven’s newsletter included a script and directions for calling your representatives in Congress, urging them to reject the nomination of Matt Gaetz. Check it out!

Take a small action and feel the power of refusing to give up!

Recess appointments

As Trump's nominations become ever more ludicrous, the reason for his demand for recess appointments becomes clearer: Many of his nominees will never make it through the confirmation process. See Salon, "Totally unqualified": Congress reacts to RFK Jr. nomination.

When Trump first floated the idea of recess appointments, I assumed it was bluster. I now believe he is deadly serious. Senator John Thune, the new Majority Leader in the Senate, says that recess appointments are “still an option.”

The issue of recess appointments is complicated and nuanced. Previous presidents have made recess appointments, although the trend over the last two decades has been to block all recess appointments. See generally, Vox, Trump’s demand for recess appointments, explained.

But here is the constitutional takeaway about recess appointments: The rule is that nominations are confirmed by the Senate and recess appointments are the rare exception. Trump seeks to make the exception (recess appointments) the rule.

Whatever the history and nuances of recess appointments, no president has ever demanded that Congress go into recess for the purpose of circumventing the Senate’s obligation to provide “advice and consent” regarding presidential nominations. See Can  the  President  Adjourn  Congress? - ConstitutionNEXT.

Trump's demand that the Senate abdicate its constitutional duty is the first step in abolishing the constitutional system of checks and balances. If Republicans agree to surrender the constitutional oversight role of Congress, they are co-conspirators in an effort to overthrow the Constitution.

Don’t let anyone tell you that Trump's demand that the Senate go into recess is consistent with historical norms. It is not. Trump's demand is outrageous and should be condemned by every member of Congress and every responsible media outlet in the nation.

Robert F. Kennedy Jr. is a danger to America’s health

Trump's nomination of RFK Jr. crossed another line of sanity and decency. Kennedy is a dangerous, unserious, deeply flawed choice who will imperil the health of Americans if he is confirmed. See The Guardian, RFK Jr condemned as ‘clear and present danger’ after Trump nomination.

Per The Guardian,

Public Citizen, a progressive nonprofit organization focusing on consumer advocacy, said: “Robert F Kennedy Jr is a clear and present danger to the nation’s health. He shouldn’t be allowed in the building at the department of health and human services (HHS), let alone be placed in charge of the nation’s public health agency.” “Donald Trump’s bungling of public health policy during the Covid pandemic cost hundreds of thousands of lives. By appointing Kennedy as his secretary of HHS, Trump is courting another, policy-driven public health catastrophe,” the organization added. Alastair McAlpine, a pediatric physician at British Columbia’s children’s hospital, wrote: “It is hard to overstate what a terrible decision this is. RFK Jr has no medical training. He is a hardcore anti-vaccine and misinformation peddler. The last time he meddled in a state’s medical affairs (Samoa), 83 children died of measles.”

Despite the danger presented by Kennedy, no congressional Republicans have gone on record criticizing Kennedy. To the contrary, they have described him as “brilliant” and “exciting.” It is despicable that Republicans would play politics with the health of America’s children, elderly, and vulnerable.

Update on Matt Gaetz

Shock over Matt Gaetz’s nomination continues. One reason (among many) are allegations that Gaetz was involved in moving underage girls across state lines for sex. On Thursday, the attorney for one of those underage girls spoke out. See Newsweek, Lawyer for Teenager at Center of Matt Gaetz Investigation Speaks Out.

Per Newsweek, the girl’s lawyer said,

Mr. Gaetz's likely nomination as Attorney General is a perverse development in a truly dark series of events. We would support the House Ethics Committee immediately releasing their report. She was a high school student and there were witnesses.

It is bewildering and maddening that a president-elect who is an adjudicated sexual abuser nominated a man under investigation for transporting underage girls across state lines for sex to be the Attorney General of the United States. Most of the Trump voters who are parents of teenage daughters would not allow their daughters to remain alone in the same room with Trump or Gaetz. And yet, they voted for Trump.

Concluding Thoughts

It has been a tough week. Part of the reason is that we can’t play defense yet. We are simply waiting as Trump makes one outrageous announcement after another. I admit to feeling frustrated. Over the summer, the Biden and Harris campaigns raised the alarm about the anti-democratic, revenge-based agenda planned by Trump. Pundits and scolds warned that “democracy issues” were not resonating with voters and Democrats needed to shift to “kitchen table issues.”

Kamala Harris made a masterful pivot to policies focusing on the middle and working classes. Those campaign themes gained some traction, but not enough. And now we are faced with the anti-democratic, revenge-based agenda that many warned was coming. That agenda is surprising Trump supporters and some Democrats. And it is worse than we imagined.

We can’t change the past, but we can learn from it. There is no such thing as raising the alarm about Trump's dictatorial aspirations too loudly or frequently. We must resist every step of the way.

I have largely abandoned the NYTimes as a source of news. Today, as I was fact-checking this newsletter, I clicked on my icon for the NYT, expecting to see full-throated condemnation of Trump's ridiculous anti-government, anti-science, anti-America nominations. Instead, I saw David Brooks (still) explaining to Democrats how they (allegedly) blew it. At some point, Brooks will have to find something new to write about. I suggest he start with an alleged child sex trafficker heading the DOJ, an anti-science anti-vaxxer heading HHS, a Putin-friendly neophyte heading the DNI, and a white nationalist heading the DOD.

While there is power in not giving up, at some point we need to rouse righteous anger about what is happening to America. It is not right. It is not acceptable. And we should not let it happen on our watch.

[Robert B. Hubbell Newsletter]

[clawbehavior]

what are your pregnant gaon & gahan headcanons? embarrassed to ask this questions but I keep on thinking about gahan with a baby sobs 🤧💗

you're like me!!!! i have been thinking of pregnant gaon and parents gahan for months ✨✨ this is our time to shine anon!!! i have spicy and sweet head canons. here they are in no particular order: 

- gaon's snatch is looser after giving birth. yohan loves this because it's directly tied to gaon having yohan's child, just as he loved when gaon was tight because it meant yohan was his first. having a baby makes gaon completely unselfconscious about his body which makes their sex even spicier post kids. 

- some couples find their sex lives dwindling after having kids. gahan makes it work by taking advantage of opportunities. baby asleep after feeding and seven year old doing homework with their headphones in? gahan's all over each other in the bedroom. they're still doing it at least once a day. 

- when their firstborn was a baby, gaon used to hold them out to yohan for kisses but it's a ploy because when yohan leaned in gaon would kiss him instead. things like that which made yohan fall in love with him even more.

- gaon pumps so they can switch off every night on who wakes to feed the baby but it's really every three nights because yohan wants gaon to sleep properly to recover so he sleeps lightly in order to wake first when their baby cries

- yes, yohan does taste gaon's milk. it tastes sugary, like the remaining milk at the bottom of a cereal bowl. it's not often because they need to feed the baby, but sometimes as a lil treat 😋

- one time gaon nestles against yohan while feeding so yohan can watch their bby feed over gaon's shoulder with one arm supporting gaon's holding the baby. gaon's exhausted, so he falls asleep mid feed and yohan holds them both so their baby can finish. 

- the first time their baby had a vaccination, yohan's alpha instincts went into overdrive at his baby's wail, pheromones flooding the room. as soon as his baby was bandaged up, yohan scooped him up and held him against his cheek and murmured soothingly to him that he was okay, that his aboujie had him, that aboujie wasn't going to let anyone touch him until their baby calmed, feeling safe and secure

- yohan takes an almost anthropological fascination when his baby hits the terrible two's stage and their favorite word is 'no!' because even when his toddler is running around in a fit of incandescent rage, they're still soooo cute. he's a big softie. but he learns to reign it in a little so as not to encourage bad behavior or to make gaon the sole disciplinarian. still, things that easily irritate other parents don't bother him. he loves his goofy ass angry ball of adventure 

- their firstborn child is the spitting image of yohan with his father's same protective instincts and shyness. his son owns a comb. many combs in fact but he still lets his hair fall in his eyes. gaon liked to crouch in front of their kid (so tall now!) and comb the hair out of his eyes while teasing him until he broke into a wide grin and nuzzled his face against gaon's. it healed something inside yohan to see it happen  

- their second child, a girl, has yohan wrapped around her tiny finger and not just because she has gaon's straight black hair and saucy temper but because yohan has a soft spot for cute baby girls in cute little outfits and cute little pink dresses and it has never left him

- yohan doesn't understand why his son randomly starts making it a habit to gift yohan marigolds that he picked on his way home from school, but he shrugs and accepts his good fortune then adds them to the vase of fresh flowers gaon leaves on his study table every morning 

- gaon is stunning in any outfit but yohan's favorite is when gaon wears nothing but his wedding ring, lying in their sheets

- when gaon is in charge of the baby while yohan is at an after work event, he dresses them up in yohan's glasses, tie, and button down then face calls yohan and keeps the baby up front so the first thing yohan sees is his kid just swimming in yohan's shirt with yohan's reading glasses slipping down his face and grinning with glee. it makes yohan laugh out loud during a speech and then he has to play it extra cool during the rest of the night to rehabilitate his image 

- people talk about there being a number one and a number two in a marriage but on some things yohan takes the lead and others gaon does and no matter what they feel they always show a united front to the babies and solve their disagreements in private

- yohan would like five kids. gaon tells him in no uncertain terms that two is enough. ofc what happens is he's lax with his birth control and gets pregnant again and yohan tells him he'll support whatever choice gaon makes so gaon decides to go with it. i'll let you decide if it's twins! 

you must be brimming with gahan mpreg ideas, anon! feel free to drop them in the ask box or here in the chat so we can scream about the lawful husbands together

[tumbleweed-writes]

Now That I Have You: Chibs Telford X OC. Chapter Six

PREVIOUS CHAPTER HERE

Tara was disappointed that she was ruining her friend's date but the mother in her was far more insistent than the matchmaker in her. 

She feared that she may have wrecked things for Molly and Chibs. She could imagine that a call about a sick child was a mood killer for a first date if there ever was one.

Her disappointment quickly turned to joy when she opened the front door and saw the last thing she'd expected to see.

She had expected to see a very worried Molly, but it was who was standing beside her that surprised Tara. 

Chibs was standing by Molly, his hand clasped onto hers clearly showing just how protective he had become of the woman. She had not expected Chibs to tag along to pick up Mason. 

She knew she shouldn’t be shocked though. If Chibs Telford was anything, he was loyal. He wasn’t the kind of guy that was going to disappear if he found out his date had a sick kid in need. 

Tara did her best to hide her smug smile as she saw that the first date had not been ruined, at least not completely. Just to think Jax had told her not to play cupid, she couldn't help but to realize.

Molly took her son from Tara, she holding the sick crying boy in her arms allowing the child to bury his head against her shoulder.

Molly pressed a kiss to Mason's cheek trying hard not to panic as she realized just how warm his cheek was. He had a fever, Tara had already checked. It wasn’t incredibly high, but it was high enough to be a concern. 

Molly pressed kisses to his cheeks doing her best to quiet his tears. She spoke trying to keep her voice from becoming too frantic as she realized that her son was wearing his Paul Frank monkey pjs and not the clothing she'd left him in. "What exactly happened?"

"I was making dinner and the boys were sitting at the dining room table coloring. I looked away from them for a second and next thing I know he got sick all over himself. I went ahead and put him in his pajamas and got him cleaned up. His clothing is in the washer. I'll get it to you Monday at work." Tara explained trying to ease Molly's worries.

Molly nodded her head, it not taking her very long to realize just what was wrong with her son. "The daycare provider at the hospital told me that the chicken pox has been floating around the kids there. Mason hasn't had his vaccine yet...my ex didn't believe in them...I mangaged to get the basic early vaccines behind Brian’s back…it’s gotten harder as Mason’s gotten older and I keep meaning to get it done. I haven’t been separated from Brian long enough to even get it set up…I just got him set up with a doctor out here but we haven’t had our first appointment yet...god this is all my fault."

"Oh, Honey, it’s okay. You intended on doing it, the chicken pox just moved faster. It could happen to anyone." Tara reassured the woman remembering that the daycare providers had told her the same thing about the chicken pox virus. Luckily Abel and Thomas had gotten their vaccines.

Chibs spoke up, not liking the clear look of guilt on Molly's face nor the mention of her ex being controlling enough that he might try to dictate what medical care Mason was allowed. "It's alright, Lass...he's gonna be jus fine...He's a strong kid."

Chibs reached out placing a hand over the child's cheek a little frightened when he realized just how warm Mason's skin was. It was as though heat was rising straight from Mason's pores. He felt like a little furnace. His skin felt a little damp the children’s tylenol Tara had given him making the fever begin to break. It had left the boy feeling somewhat sweat soaked and the fat tears sliding down his cheeks didn’t help with the dampness. 

He was quickly overtaken with a feeling that he hadn't had in years. It was the same feeling he use to get when Kerrianne was just a baby and was suffering from an ear infection.

It was a feeling of helplessness, knowing that someone so small and helpless was suffering and there was nothing you could do to ease the pain. Chibs Telford did not like feeling helpless. 

Tara did her best to give Molly a hug even with the younger woman’s arms full with her child,  as she spoke, the doctor in her taking over. "Don't worry, just get him some fluids and some rest and he'll be okay. You might want to get some pedialyte in him and some broth. Make sure you keep him from scratching once the bumps start appearing. Put socks on his hands if that's what it takes. Keep checking his temperature and give him children’s tylenol as needed. If the fever gets too high get him to the emergency room though. If his symptoms seem to get worse get him in to see someone. The virus should run its course though in about four to seven days."

Chibs shook Tara's hand giving her a smile thankful that her doctors' orders seemed to soothe Molly. "Thanks doc. I got em, now. We’ll get the wee lad home and get him to bed."

Molly put Mason in the backseat of her bug climbing into the car beside him wanting to be close to the fussy boy. Chibs got in the front driver's seat trying not to show how much he disliked her bug. He hated driving cars; it was a far cry from his bikes.

He quickly decided that he would deal with driving the little bug as long as it meant that he got to have Molly and Mason here with him.

Molly spoke up feeling regret over the fact that the nice dinner she was supposed to make Chibs would go to waste. She felt even more disappointed that they were sitting here in her bug with her sick son instead of at her rental house continuing the romantic evening they'd been having. "This didn't turn out how I pictured it."

"It's alright love, as long as the little lad is okay...we can take a raincheck on dinner." Chibs reassured her, almost afraid that she wouldn't want to take a raincheck on it.

Part of him was afraid that the kiss they'd shared back at her house had meant nothing. He was afraid that she would see it as an accidental one-time occurrence. He was terrified she would view the kiss as nothing more than a mistake.

He was afraid she’d tell him that this was moving too fast, and she was not ready to jump into anything until her divorce was finalized. He was afraid she’d admit that she was just rebounding with the first guy to show her attention after leaving her marriage.

His fears were silenced as Molly spoke, a soft smile on her face. "I would really like that. We can definitely try this again…dinner.”

She paused her cheeks growing warm as she stared down at her seatbelt the words leaving her quickly before she had a chance to stop herself from being ballsy enough to say it. “We can try both dinner and the kiss again."

Chibs smirked at the comment and the shyness in which she said it. She was so sweet and seemingly innocent. He had to feel that he might corrupt her and it was an appealing idea.

He nodded his head fast to say the words. “Oh, we’re so tryin’ the kiss again.”

She twisted her lips trying not to smile too hard at the comment. She was so looking forward to there being another kiss hopefully sooner than later.

—---------------------------

On the way back to Molly’s rental home there had been a stop at an all night drug store on Chibs’ insistence. There they had bought all the necessary items for a sick child; soup, children's Tylenol, and oatmeal infused lotion for the red bumps that would more than likely come with the chicken pox. She had been stunned as Chibs tried to pay for the items but had quickly talked him into at least allowing her to split the payment with her much to the annoyance of the cashier who had been assisting them. 

Chibs stood back behind Molly feeling a little lost as to what to do as Molly placed her son in his bed.

Chibs was astonished as Mason spoke up, his voice cracking from exhaustion and just feeling plain crummy. "I love you, Mr. Chibs."

"I love ya too, little lad." Chibs blurted out the words falling out of his mouth without him even having to think about them.

He felt his heart ache at the moment. He had not pictured this that day at the garage when Mason had hidden behind his mother the moment Chibs had spoken to him.

He’d almost forgotten how willing children were to give love. They gave it so freely without fear. They’d not been beaten down by life yet and told that it was not okay to express love without doubts. 

Molly swallowed the lump in her throat trying hard not to become misty eyed over the entire exchange. It had been the last thing she had expected, for her little boy to adore Chibs.

She was even more stunned at the realization that she was beginning to find herself adoring the man just as much. Though of course she would not say it was love. It was far too soon for such a thing.

She felt comforted by him though. She felt desired. She felt secure. She felt good around him. It was a mix of emotions she’d not felt around a man in so long. 

Brian had never made her feel any of those things. She had felt the exact opposite with Brian. Brian made her feel panicked, stressed, unworthy, hideous, undesirable, and just miserable. 

She had forgotten how nice a man could and should make her feel. 

Molly made sure that her son was covered up nice and warm underneath his red sheets and his beloved Spiderman comforter before she stood up.

She made sure to turn on the plastic green turtle shaped night light on his dresser before she shut off the lights. She left his room sure to crack the door before Chibs and she walked back out to the living area.

Molly was the first to speak knowing that this was a conversation that would need to be had. It was for the sake of her son that they discussed this. She knew if Chibs intended on sticking around the way he seemed to insinuate he did then they needed to have this talk. "You mean a lot to my little boy, Filip."

"He means a lot to me too love...ya both do." Chibs admitted fearing that this conversation was going in a direction he would hate.

He was once again afraid she was going to let him down gently. He was sure that she was about to tell him that she only saw him as a friend; that she didn't want him. It would prove his fears correct, he thought; show that a guy like him wasn't good enough for a woman like her.

Molly spoke again, her stomach churning as she tried to make it perfectly clear just how important her son was to her. She couldn't allow her son's heart to be broken. "Mason isn't just some consolation prize that comes along with me. If I'm going to...move forward with anything with you…not that I’m saying this is…I know we’ve only had one date.”

She paused gathering her thoughts finding this entire situation so hard to navigate. She didn’t want to come across as a clingy mess asking for more of a commitment than he was willing to give this early in the game. She knew though that she had to make it clear that if there would ever be a commitment then it wasn’t just about her. “I know things are building right now…we’re in the getting to know you stage. I know that…I don’t know where we’re going with this, I do know though if it does go anywhere if there’s a possibility that it might, then I need to know that you understand just how important my child is to me. I can't allow for someone who's starting to mean so much to him to let him down...I need you to promise me that no matter what...no matter what happens between us that you aren't just going to drop out of Mason's life. If things between us fizzle out I need to know that you aren’t just going to disappear leaving me to explain to my kid what ever happened to Mr. Chibs…he’s not always had men that…my ex, Brian was not an active parent. My brother has been Mason’s only male influence…but he’s far away and I know Mason needs that…especially as he’s growing up. I am not asking you to play dad or whatever…I am just asking to be a friend to him even if things don’t work out with us romantically. I’m asking you to stick around even if things go awry with us.”

She took a deep breath before she spoke again. “Just don't break his heart okay...even if you may break my heart at any point, don’t break my son’s heart, please."

Chibs let out a breath that he hadn't realized he'd been holding in as he was overtaken with the notion that she did want him after all. She was willing to build this with him. She was willing to give him a chance. She trusted him to let him be in her life and Mason’s life as well.

He felt his heart ache as it him him she just feared for her son's well-being. He picked up on the comment about Brian not being a parent.

The thought made him feel angry. He had been denied his Kerrianne so long. He couldn’t comprehend how a man could not appreciate the chance to be a dad.

He spoke moving towards her wanting to make it clear to her that she didn't have a thing to worry about. "I promise ya, Lass, I'm not intendin on goin anywhere…even if shite between us fizzles out…I don’ intend on lettin it fizzle out, jus so ya know.”

He paused clearing his throat needing to say the words, even if it was a promise she’d probably tell him not to make her this early in the game. “Fer the record, I would never break yer heart...Mason's either...I'm goin to be there fer ya both...I'm jus glad that yer willin to give yer hearts to someone like me. I’m happy ya wanta trust me with yer hearts."

Molly wanted to ask what he meant by someone like me, but she was rendered speechless as his lips met hers in a kiss that was just as gentle as the one they'd shared earlier that evening.

She reached up, placing her hands on his cheeks. The kiss stayed delicate, he placed his hands on her hips wanting her to be as close to him as she would allow. He held her so gently almost as though he was afraid of breaking her.

He traced his tongue along her bottom lip asking for permission and she allowed it feeling her knees grow weak at how easily he dominated the kiss. His tongue slid against hers with a skill she’d never experienced in a man. As cheesy as Molly knew it sounded, she found herself losing track of time as their lips moved together somehow both soft and demanding at the same time. Chibs Telford had a skill in the kissing department. She was relieved he’d seemed inclined to use that skill on her. 

Chibs found himself becoming just as lost in the feel of her lips against his; the kiss far different from any of the drunken sloppy kisses he'd shared with the croweaters of his past. This was different, he knew, she was special. She was no croweater. His past drunken conquests didn't even compare to the wonders of Molly Garrett. He struggled to keep control over his racing hormones as she allowed the kiss to become a little deeper.

They were both reluctant to pull away from one another but soon the need for oxygen became too much to ignore.

Chibs pulled back unwilling to pull away from her just yet. He kept her locked in his embrace, soaking up the moment.

It was not the way he’d pictured this date going, but it felt marvelous all the same. She wanted him. She really wanted him. Molly Garrett wanted him in her life and in her son’s life. He didn’t feel deserving, but he wanted to be. 

He stared into her hazel eyes once again mesmerized by the intense mixture of green and honey brown, and Molly found herself staring into his dark eyes just as entranced.

Chibs held on to her, as he was overwhelmed with a sudden realization that both thrilled him and frightened him. He was hers, completely and fully.

She had no idea; but he was all hers. 

As long as she would have him; he would do whatever it took to remain hers.

————————————

Molly watched the blood fill the test tube through the thin tubing it was connected to. She watched with ease making sure that things ran smoothly for her patient and enough blood was gathered for a good sample.

She watched with no fear nor any dizziness; having long ago grown accustomed to the sight of blood.

She pulled the needle away, pressing a cotton ball and a bandage to an elderly man's arm who was less than pleased with her for the act.

She was tempted to point out that she’d at least not bruised him. She was also tempted to suggest that if he wanted to be stuck let then he should consider being better hydrated. Thirsty bodies meant thirsty veins that did not produce blood. 

Bruising happened especially in older patients; it was something that often couldn't be helped no matter how gentle she was.

She ignored his glare as she labeled the blood sample and threw away the needle in a medical hazard wastebasket.

She pushed the little stool she was sitting in back as she removed her stark white vinyl gloves tossing them into a different wastebasket.

Some phlebotomists found themselves using latex gloves, but latex allergies were more common than some may think. So Molly always found herself reaching for vinyl, better safe than sorry, she believed.

She would be lying if she tried to claim that she wasn't still on cloud nine after Friday night. Despite the less than romantic setting, it had proven to be a perfect evening.

Every time she thought of Chibs' lips on hers she felt her cheeks flush and her heart race.

It had been a long while since a man had kissed her like that. To be honest, she was quite certain no man had ever kissed her with that much care nor that much passion. She had not thought it possible for a kiss to be so filled with both desire and concern for her well-being all at once. 

Molly felt like a love struck teenage girl. It had been so long since a man had made her feel this way; so giddy, and beautiful, and just plain content.

She was sure that no man had ever been capable of making her feel quite like this.

Her memories of her early courtship with Brian were painfilled, but she was certain that she’d not felt this sure of Brian back in the early stages of their relationship. She had not felt so cared for by Brian so quickly. 

She’d felt beautiful but there was always the undertone of suggestions on how she could improve. Brian had made little comments about how she should dye her hair back to its natural blonde instead of hte pretty lilac she’d had when they’d first met. He’d commented that she was far too old to wear combat boots and the converse looked cheap. He’d commented that she should dress more conservatively if she wanted to be taken seriously. He’d poo pooed the talk she’d had back then of getting a tattoo convincing her it would look trashy, and she’d let herself be talked out of it.

Brian had always given her compliments followed by criticism and then followed up by another compliment. She knew now he’d been trying to break her down and build her back up in his image.

She didn’t think Brian had made her feel this giddy from his presence alone. There had been gifts early on in the relationship; expensive perfumes, jewelry, and trips over spring break.

Sure, Chibs had given her some gifts through acts of service. He’d fixed her car far more than she’d expected. He’d helped her with her air conditioner and had found a plumber and handyman for her who conveniently seemed to owe Chibs a favor.

Those acts of service did not feel as though Chibs was trying to buy her affections though. It felt more as though it was his way of showing her he cared. It felt like he was worried for her and her child. It felt genuine and not as though he intended on using it as a way to manipulate her or guilt her the second she did something he did not like.

Brian’s gifts had always been brought up as a means to guilt her when she stepped out of line in his eyes. If she wanted to have a girls night with her college roommates he would bring up the expensive earrings he’d given her and how she wanted to spend time with friends instead of the guy who showered her with diamonds. When she wanted to go out with her brother and his boyfriend to a karaoke bar Brian had brought up the new dress or nice trip he’d taken her on.

There was always a condition to the gifts.

Spending time with Chibs was something that made her feel so content. Brian had never brought her that sense of contentment.

With Brian there had always been an undercurrent of needing to live up to his expectations. She never felt like she could just relax.

She had never felt as secure as she should feel with the man she had married and had mothered a child to. 

She was surprised to find that when she was around Chibs she felt safe. When she was with him she was overtaken by a feeling she hadn't had since she was a little girl; a feeling of security. It felt as though with him by her side that no one could touch her.

She was unsure if it was just that he was so intimidating. He looked as though he’d have zero issue defending her if he needed to.

Sure was sure it wasn’t the physical intimidation she was certain he put off to anyone who might be a threat to her. It was just the energy he carried. He felt soothing; as though if he cared about you then you would be in good hands. He seemed as though he cared deeply for people in his life and he was willing to go the distance for them. 

Molly was quickly realizing that Chibs Telford was amazing. He had proven so far to be sweet and gentle with her. To make him even more appealing he was so wonderful to Mason. So far he seemed to be exactly the type of man her little boy needed in his life. 

Mason had not had the privilege of having many men outside of her brother who he could look up to or trust. For the longest time Jack and Geoff were Mason’s main providers of male guidance.

Brian didn’t seem to care unless he could use Mason to impress others. He did not seem to care for providing any sort of role model for his son.

She knew it might be foolish given she’d already told Chibs she was not expecting him to play Daddy, but she had to hope that he’d be at least be willing to be a role model of sorts to her son.

She knew if things progressed with Chibs and she then Mason would begin to see him as less than a friend and more of an authority figure in his life. She had to hope and believe that Chibs was mature enough to appreciate the honor and to treat her child with care.

She thought of the promise he’d made, not to break either of their hearts. 

She felt silly to say it, but she could see herself handing her heart over to the Scotsman.

She felt ridiculous knowing that she was falling for him so quickly. She wouldn't say that it was love; no that would be silly. It was way too soon for love. She knew that at the moment it was more infatuation than anything else.

She was excited to see where this relationship could go though. She knew that it would take time of course; they still needed to get to know one another.

She found herself thrilled at the prospect of being able to build a relationship with Chibs. She felt that this would be exactly the the type of relationship she deserved. She would be able to build a relationship built out of trust and understanding. She had to have faith that it would be a relationship free of the violence and fear she had put up with for so long.

She was almost afraid knowing that she already cared for Chibs Telford this much. She was still frightened that with time Chibs would turn out to be just like any other man she had allowed herself to fall for; a monster.

She frowned, refusing to believe that Chibs could be anything like Brian. He was nothing like her husband. Brian was darkness and Chibs was the light.

It had been his words to Mason that had really taken hold of her heart; telling the boy that he loved him. Most men would have split the second the little boy blurted those words out.

She was shocked to find that she did not sense an ounce of bullshit from Chibs’ response to the child. It felt that he really did seem to care for her son. His promise to her had seemed genuine.

He really was in this for the long run. She was a little frightened that he wouldn't want her once he knew the truth though; the truth about why she had run away from Louisiana.

Would he still want her once it became clear that she was damaged goods? She feared that he would look at her differently once he knew about her past.

Would he think she was weak for allowing her son to stay in such a horrible situation for five years?

Would he still look at her with such a look of adoration when he knew just how much pain she'd allowed her body to endure over the years?

She also was honest enough to admit that she couldn't help but to fear that he would think she was falling for him for the wrong reasons; that she was simply afraid. 

She feared he’d think that she was clinging to the first man to show her attention after being mistreated and harmed by a man for so long.

She questions about what he meant when he said that he was thankful she’d give her heart to  someone like him?

She felt the distinct feeling that the club he seemed to be a part of might not be entirely innocent. She had a hard time wrapping her mind around the suspicions though. Surely, Tara would not be married to someone who was dangerous. Jax was in the club too, so surely the good doctor would not be tied to such a thing?

Molly had hopes that Chibs would see that she was not clinging to him out of fear.

She felt that Chibs was something amazing; she almost couldn't believe that he would want a disaster like her; a single mom who seemed as though she was harboring a secret, a woman who was clearly having some hiccups starting her life. 

She knew that she had to do whatever it took to keep Chibs by her side. She didn't want to ever stop feeling as wonderful as he made her feel.

Being with Chibs felt like heaven. It felt like after all the dark violent years she had endured that this was her light at the end of the darkness. It was like she’d been in hell and now she was finally going to see heaven. 

It made her think of something her grandmother had once told her when she was a little girl crushed over some stupid boy who had hurt her feelings; you have to kiss a lot of frogs to find your prince. It seemed that maybe Molly had found hers.

Molly looked up from the paperwork she was filling out to go along with the blood sample down to the lab, as she heard her supervisor clear her throat.

She looked to the doorway feeling quite anxious when she saw the look on the woman's face.

Her supervisor had always been kind to her up until this moment. She had really taken Molly under her wing here at the hospital, even telling Molly that she reminded her of a young version of herself.

The look on her supervisor Lillian Carmichaels' face made Molly think of the look her mother use to give her when she had disappointed her. It was so similar to the look her mother gave her when she'd brought Brian Parker home to meet the family.

Lillian spoke up, sending Molly a look that made most of the phlebotomists in this hospital run for cover. "You have a woman here to see you. She's waiting in the waiting room. She’s not taking no for an answer. I assume you know her, given that she knows you."

Molly searched her brain wondering who could be waiting for her. 

She scooted her chair back standing up and pretending that she didn’t want to shrink under her supervisor's gaze.

Molly felt her stomach drop when she walked out into the waiting room and saw just who this woman was.

In a chair sat Gemma Teller Morrow. Gemma stood up giving Molly an all too calm smile that didn’t quite meet her eyes as she spoke. "Lilli here says you're on break, lets go have a talk."

Molly almost wanted to run back to the little office where she worked with two other phlebotomists and lock the door behind her.

Instead she just gave Gemma a polite smile and went to follow the woman out from the safety of the lab waiting room.

The two women walked in silence riding an elevator upstairs out of the lab in the basement. Molly felt unsure of what to say, her mind going a mile a second. The last time she’d seen Gemma, at Abel Teller’s birthday party, she’d had the sense that the woman was offended by her presence alone.

She felt less as though the woman was offended by her now but there was still a sense of discomfort under her gaze. It almost felt as though she was being studied by the older woman.

The two women found themselves sitting outside in the smoking section where both patients and employees seemed to gather to get their daily nicotine fix.

Today though the area was eerily empty, just Gemma and Molly sat at a wooden bench across from one another.

Molly sat feeling a little awkward sitting across from Gemma, she felt a bit plain wearing her light blue hospital scrubs and the gray and pink Nike tennis shoes she wore only at work, her hair pulled back into a high ponytail.

She had felt so pretty this morning when she had done her makeup putting on a shiny lip gloss and her favorite silver hoop earrings. Now sitting across from the impeccably dressed Gemma, she felt mousy.

Gemma lit up her cigarette and inhaled saying the last thing Molly had expected. "Hear your boy is sick."

Molly raised an eyebrow cautious of the woman, Gemma made her think of a venomous snake; cool and collected but ready to strike if prompted. "Yes...the chicken pox. My neighbor offered to sit with him while I work."

The two women sat in an awkward silence for a moment before Molly dared to speak again. "But I have the feeling that you aren't here to talk about my son's chicken pox."

"Bright and pretty, good combination." Gemma stated giving her a smile that Molly was sure she wasn't supposed to interpret as being friendly.

Gemma took a drag from her cigarette as she spoke again. "I've known Chibs for a long time. That man has been through hell in the time I’ve known him alone and plenty of hell prior to his arrival in the states. He barely got out of that hell all in one piece."

Molly spoke without even thinking as a particularly frightening thought entered her head. She couldn’t help herself from blurting out the fear as soon as it planted itself in her brain. "Are you in love with him?"

Gemma laughed, coughing a little on the smoke she'd just inhaled. She spoke, trying hard to hide her amusement. "No, honey. Trust me, I've got a man. Chibs is just a friend to me, a dear friend that's all."

Molly felt her cheeks flush embarrassed by her own question. What else was she supposed to think though? Gemma was checking in on her like this, being so nosy. She was talking about the hell Chibs had been through with a sense of warning to Molly not to fuck up. Gemma seemed somewhat possessive. It seemed like the actions of a woman in love.

Gemma spoke again thankfully having recovered from her laughing fit. "Chibs is the type of man who loves deep. When he loves someone he puts everything he has into it. I just want to make sure that he's putting everything into someone worthy. Someone who isn't going to betray him. I want to make sure you're here for the right reasons."

Molly sighed, spotting that part of her assumptions were right. Gemma wanted to send a warning. 

"I would never do that to him. I'm not using him. This is the real thing for me. Filip means a lot to both my son and me." Molly insisted, hoping that it was clear just how truthful she was being.

She had the feeling that Gemma was someone who she needed the approval of.

Gemma nodded her head, the use of Chibs' real name enough to make her believe Molly. The girl did seem to be telling the truth from what Gemma could tell. She spoke earnestly of her words. She didn't put on water works or get pissed. She was reacting evenly and assured of her words. It read as someone who did not have any ulterior motives to hide. "Where are you on your divorce?"

"I've hired Harry Powell. His office is downtown near that ice cream shop, the one across from Lloyd's Barbershop." Molly explained a little unsure of the lawyer she'd hired a few days ago.

The man was sleazy looking and didn't have the nicest office but he was all she could afford at the moment. He was the only one willing to work for her on her budget.

Gemma shook her head, a maternal tone to her voice as she spoke. "That won't do, that idiot couldn't delegate his way out of a paper bag. I want you to use one of SAMCRO’s lawyers. I can get you a deal on a better lawyer than Harry Powell. I have the perfect lawyer in mind who will take your case as a friend of the club. I'll give her a call for you and set up a meeting."

Molly frowned, wanting to ask why SAMCRO needed a lawyer. She felt her stomach plummet that sense that Chibs was hiding something about that club from her sinking in again. She shoved the thought choosing to focus on denial instead. 

She had no time to ask though as Gemma spoke. "What are you going to do once your ex comes calling? You do know he’ll come calling at some point? A divorce is going to require a custody hearing most likely and he’s going to know where to find you. A bastard like that isn't just going to sit back and let you divorce him. Trust me, Baby, that man isn’t walking away after he bruised up your back."

Molly's blood ran cold at these words. She spoke, confusion apparent in her voice. "How do you know about that?"

"Chibs spotted the bruises on the day of Abel's birthday party. He caught a peek of them that day he took you home. He mentioned that he was worried someone hurt you. He put one and one together and drew his own conclusions." Gemma explained, knowing that Chibs would kill her for bringing it up.

She wasn't just going to sit back and let someone who was this important to Chibs go through a divorce from hell without some help though. If this girl meant something to Chibs then Gemma would make sure that she was given the same treatment any other friend of the club received. Family helped family.

"He doesn't know why I left my husband. I haven’t told him anything. He doesn't know about the abuse." Molly admitted not hiding the shame she felt over her past and the secrets she was withholding from Chibs.

"Believe me, Hon…he knows. He’s waiting for you to say the words. He gets you’re delicate and he doesn’t want to cause upset. You should tell him everything. He'll understand." Gemma reassured her the maternal tone still in her voice.

She took Molly by surprise as she reached out placing a hand over hers. "Don't you worry about a thing honey. We take care of our own around here."

Molly nodded her head, the words surprisingly comforting her. This was unexpected, but she had a feeling that Gemma was not the type to take no for answer.

She had to feel thankful that she was getting someone a little less sleezy than Harry Powell to work her divorce.

She spoke as Gemma put out her cigarette and stood up. "Why does SAMCRO need a lawyer?"

"I think it's best if Chibs explains that to you." Gemma stated her words cryptic causing Molly even more confusion.

Molly was surprised as Gemma embraced her, pressing a kiss to her cheek as she spoke. "If you need anything just come by TM Auto. I'm always there."

And with that Molly watched the woman walk away. 

She sighed feeling a sense of whiplash over everything that had just happened. It was strange how someone who terrified her just moments ago could give her a sense of comfort.

She frowned wondering what exactly Chibs needed to explain to her. She felt her stomach churn imagining it was unpleasant if SAMCRO was in need of a lawyer. 

She let out a sigh knowing that she had a lot of questions for Chibs the next time she saw him.

——————————

Chibs entered the office of TM Auto frowning as he spotted a familiar woman sitting with Gemma Teller.

Lucy Fisher was one of SAMCRO’s many lawyers. They rarely used her considering she was quite expensive. The retainer price alone was for good reasoning, her price represented just how damn good she was at her job.

Lucy stood up with a briefcase in hand. She peered at Chibs through her designer glasses before she looked at Gemma. "Alright that's all I need. I'll be able to meet with her next week. I'll call you with a time."

And with that Charming's most expensive defense attorney walked out of the office leaving Gemma and a very confused Chibs.

Chibs spoke up fearing that Gemma had gotten herself into some sort of mess, more than likely involving a girl and a broken nose. "What was that?"

"That was your girl's new lawyer. She may focus mainly on defense but she has enough of a background in family law to handle it." Gemma stated, obviously proud of herself for landing the best lawyer in town for Molly.

"Molly?" Chibs asked, dropping down on the small sofa in the office suddenly forgetting what he'd come in here for.

"Yes Molly, who else would I be talking about? I had a nice talk with her yesterday. She was going to use Harry Powell. I told her that old drunk wouldn't be the right fit for her. Lucy Fisher is doing this all pro bono by the way." Gemma explained watching the tornado of emotions wash over Chibs' face; fear and uncertainty.

"Ya talked to her?" Chibs asked, feeling a little dumbfounded at all the information he'd just been told.

He couldn't help but to feel an overwhelming sense of anxiety at the thought of Gemma talking to Molly behind his back. The last thing he needed was for SAMCRO’s Den Mom to horrify Molly.

Gemma let out a sigh spotting the panicked look on his face. "Yes, and its a damn good thing I did. Just how much have you told her about yourself? She seemed a little clueless. She doesn't know anything about the club. Does she even know about Fiona?"

Chibs felt his throat begin to tighten up at the thought of just how in the dark Molly was at the moment. "What am I supposed to tell er? That I'm a criminal with a record a mile long? That danger is always goin to follow me? That I'm still a married man?"

"She’s not an idiot Chibs, chances are she’s smart enough to sense that there’s something off about the club. She’s been in town long enough to probably have heard something by now. What exactly was your plan in all this huh? You couldn’t have planned on never bringing it up. You know a home life and a club life can’t exist separately..” Gemma pointed out rolling her eyes.

She spoke again, not giving him a chance to reply. “Why are you still married anyway? And don't feed me that shit about Catholicism? We both know you aren't that good of a Catholic? I know the lack of divorce is Fiona talking. She told you she didn’t want to continue with the marriage but she doesn’t want a divorce. You have to realize that is really shitty, Chibs. She can’t have it both ways. It’s not fair to you."

Chibs frowned, wanting to be offended by her statement, but he knew she was right. He wasn't a very good catholic. He hadn't stepped foot in a church or confession since back when he'd lived in Belfast. He prayed and that was about it.

He sighed knowing she had a point about Fiona. It wasn’t fair at all. She could not have it both ways. She either wanted him or she didn’t. If she didn’t want him then she should set him free.

Remaining married wasn't for the sake of his daughter so she couldn’t use that excuse. Kerrianne was old enough to understand why her parents weren't together any longer.

It felt like the excuse of divorce being against her values as a Catholic was a convenient way to keep Chibs on a backburner, he hated to admit it. To be honest he was a little afraid that Fiona wouldn't give him a divorce. She was more attuned to her faith than he had been in years.

Still though, what was stopping him, really? If she didn’t want to continue the marriage, then he should be allowed to move forward with his life. 

He shook his head unsure of what to say. The only thing he could say was one thing. "I don't wanna lose Molly and er boy."

"The only way you're going to lose them is if you keep the truth from her. Trust me, honey. Women remember that shit. Once you lie to us we don't forget it." Gemma stated doing her best to assure him that honesty was the best policy.

Gemma never thought she of all people would be telling anyone that honesty was the best policy. She knew that she had a point though despite how strange the statement sounded coming out of her mouth.

And so did Chibs. He closed his eyes knowing that he had to come clean. He had to tell Molly everything before she walked away from him forever.

——————————————-

Molly sat on her sofa in her pajamas, a glass of white wine in front of her and several Polaroids sitting spread out across the coffee table.

Mason had gone to bed a long time ago. The chicken pox had really taken all of his energy right out of him. His daily activities consisted of sleeping, watching cartoons, drinking juice, and maybe getting some soup down if he was lucky.

It was Tuesday night, four days since the chicken pox dinner disaster as Molly had come to think of it as. She couldn't help but to chuckle at the name. It sounded like some indie band; come see Chicken Pox Dinner Disaster, one night only Live in concert !

Well really Friday night hadn't been that big of a disaster, Chibs and she had kissed and it had been wonderful.

They had spoken on the phone a few times this weekend. He had even stopped by once on Sunday night. He’d watched a movie with Mason and she. It had felt nice, his insistence that he wanted to check in on her.

The little moments had not felt like long enough to her.  Molly was exhausted from pouring herself into Mason's care..

The phone calls and visit Sunday had felt so nice though. Chibs had admitted that he'd called because he had wanted nothing more than to hear her voice and he’d stopped by just because he wanted to make sure she was faring well. That alone was probably the sweetest thing she had ever experienced.

She was afraid what would happen when he found out the truth about her ex and why she’d fled to California. Would he still want to hear her voice if he knew that she had been so weak and had stayed with a man who had caused her nothing but pain? Would he still think she was a great mother if he knew that Mason had seen such violence?

Molly felt nothing but disgust and humiliation as she stared down at the polaroids; pictures of every bruise, every black eye, and every mark Brian Parker had ever given her.

She had spoken with Gemma earlier tonight over the phone. The woman had told Molly to gather all the things she would need to meet with the lawyer next week.

Molly felt sick knowing that her dirty little secret was about to become public knowledge.

She frowned as she heard a knock at her door. She picked her thin gray cotton kimono robe up off of the arm of the sofa covering herself. The last thing she wanted was to answer the door in just a pair of pink pajama shorts and a white tank top.

She made her way to the door peeking through the peephole knowing that in this neighborhood she had to be careful.

She was just lucky her neighbors consisted of a young married couple that ignored her on one side and a grandmother on the other side.

Molly felt her heart begin to race as she spotted a familiar motorcycle and a familiar man.

Chibs was unable to stop himself from reaching for Molly as soon as she opened the door.

After finding out that Gemma had spoken to her just the day before, he had felt the need to get to her as soon as possible.

He'd wanted to see that she had fared well with his own eyes. Make sure that Gemma hadn't completely horrified her.

Molly leaned into his embrace soaking up the feeling of safety that she seemed to feel every time he was around.

She let him into her rental house feeling pure mortification as Chibs' eyes locked down on the Polaroid pictures spread out across the coffee table.

Chibs sat down on her ugly orange sofa, his knees growing weak when he spotted the pictures; photos of the woman who he was slowly falling hard for. The photos featured her looking so frightened and in so much pain.

He picked up a photo of her staring straight ahead; her right eye swollen and blackened and her throat bruised with clear hand prints, it was clear she'd been choked.

He spotted photos of split lips, bruised ribs and hips, black and blue arms, and more than a few black eyes. Her eyes stared straight into the camera so empty looking. The sight filled Chibs with a sense of horror. He’d seen terrible things in his life, and this was just another awful memory for him to hold on to. 

Molly sat down beside him trying hard to fight back the tears but as soon as she saw the look on Chibs face she lost it; the tears came hard.

Chibs dropped the picture as he reached for her, taking her in his arms and holding on to her tight. He held her so tight that it almost hurt.

She spoke through her tears letting everything she was feeling out. "I was afraid you wouldn't want me if you knew the truth."

"I could never not want ya, Molly." Chibs stated meaning every word he said as he continued to hold her.

Molly swallowed the lump in the back of her throat as she pulled away from his embrace.

She stared down at the coffee table too afraid to look in his eyes as she spoke knowing that the truth needed to come out. He deserved to know the truth. "I married Brian two months after dating him. I got pregnant with Mason, so we did the right thing. He proposed after his parents told him that it was what needed to happen. I said yes even though my mother told me it did not need to happen. Things were good at first. He really bewitched me in a sense of the word. He came from money…a lot of fucking money. His family was old money. They had a big piece of land and an old plantation house that he told me would be all ours. My mother never liked him...but I didn't listen to her. When Mason was two, things changed. Brian became possessive... angry. He was always a little possessive before that point. He’d always seemed insecure in the relationship from early on. He got intense fast and I was starved enough for acceptance in his world that I ignored all the red flags. He showered me with gifts when she started dating…he was critical of me at times, but he always framed it in a way that he was just trying to help me grow. He always reminded me of our different stations in life. He never failed to remind me that I was from a much lower class than him. He reminded me that with him I would rise above my station in life…that he would help me improve. I ignored how insulting it felt and I…I learned to believe him."

She paused as he took her hand in his doing his best to encourage her to tell him everything. Hoping that she knew he would never be disgusted with her. "He was always verbally abusive…and occasionally things got…uncomfortable sexually. He never hit me up until that night though. I excused it the first time. I thought he was under a lot of stress. As soon as it was over, he told me he was sorry. He said it would never happen again. It kept happening though. I hid it from everyone...not that I had many people to hide it from. He pushed away my friends and my family...my brother Jack wouldn't go away though…Jack and his boyfriend they refused to be shoved out. Jack would show up on my front step and demand to see me and Brian…I think he was kind of afraid of my brother even though he always called Jack a…a lot of really gross homophobic things. I was so weak and stupid…I didn’t defend Jack. I always defended Jack, but I let Brian talk about him that way. Jack loved me so much. Jack wouldn't let Brian push him out of my life. If I didn't have Jack I would have never gotten away. The first time Brian hit me in front of my baby was the week before everything went to shit. He slapped me in front of Mason...at least he had the decency to not go any farther that night. I knew I had to escape after that though. I knew it would get worse…I realized I couldn’t shield Mason from it anymore. I began to worry that Brian would kill me one day and then he’d turn his anger on to Mason…I started to fear that even with me around that the anger would turn to Mason. He’s not always been kind to my son…when he isn’t ignoring him."

She took a deep breath finally building up the nerve to look at Chibs in the eyes. She didn't see the disgust she had expected. She saw only compassion.

He felt his stomach drop at the thought of the bastard hurting her in front of her son. He pulled her hand up to his lips pressing a kiss to it as she spoke again. "Jack started to help me plan my escape. Brian found out what I was planning...I don't know how, but he found out. He told me he would kill me sooner than let me leave with Mason. He beat me... worse than he'd ever done before. Mason walked in on it. He was in the playroom coloring and I guess he heard me cry out in pain because he came. He kept begging for Brian to stop...leave mommy alone...that's what he screamed. I couldn't do anything. Brian just kept on kicking me and punching me."

"That's why Mason was so quiet at firs wasn't it? The little lad couldn't deal with ta trauma" Chibs blurted out suddenly connecting the dots confirming just what he had suspected.

"Yes, that's why. Mason saw everything...Brian finally stopped...I don't know why. He just snapped out of it...and then he left…he went out to a bar I guess...he didn't come home that morning..Maybe he went to work I don't know. Jack found me the next morning...saw the damage. And that was that my brother and my sister packed up Mason and me and we left. I came to Charming because I liked the name...It seemed like a good place to make a new start...Brian isn't just going to let me go...He's going to come here once he finds out where I am. He is going to kill me. One day he will kill me." Molly admitted the fear of what her husband might be capable of becoming overwhelming.

Brian would come and she knew that; she was almost tempted to pack up Mason and run, run far away. She was tempted to disappear again before someone got hurt.

Chibs spoke up his voice holding a hint of danger that she had never heard from him. It made her stomach drop. "That bastard aint goin to touch ya. I'll kill him if he comes close to Mason and you. Ya don't gotta worry sweet lass. I'm here. I'm goin ta take care of Mason and ya."

Molly nodded her head fully believing him. The danger in his voice made her blood run cold.

She was a astonished that the tone of his voice didn't make her fear him.

He hadn't given her any reason to believe that he would hurt her. Chibs had never done anything to make her think that he would lay a hand on Mason or her.

Chibs took a deep breath trying to calm the rage he felt building in his gut. The thought of someone hurting her filled him with such a strong sense of rage, it was almost frightening how enraged he felt.

He took another deep breath opening up about his childhood. “My da…he was a lot like yer ex. He was a violent greasy bastard, mean as hell. He hit my ma once or twice in front of Cait an me. He left us…and we were glad fer it.”

She gave his hand a squeeze, her heart aching for him. She had to wonder if this was what had drawn him to Mason and she. Had he seen his own childhood in them?

Chibs cleared his throat knowing he needed to spill more trauma on her. It was time. She had the right to know. 

He sighed knowing he needed to come clean to her and face the risk of losing her. It was like ripping off a band-aid he told himself; the pain would happen but afterwards you would be left to heal. She'd ripped her band-aid off and now it was time for him to do the same.

He pulled the hand that he was holding up to one of his cheeks. Placing it against one of his scars as he spoke. "I'm goin to tell ya a story bout how...bout my past, bout who did this to me."

She nodded her head ready to hear him out, ready to listen without judgment just as he'd done for her.

"I was born in Glasgow...but I lived in Belfast. Ya already know that. My ma died when I was thirteen and the followin year my younger sister and I, Cait, we moved to Belfast to live with an aunt. I was an angry lad. I lost my ma…moved to yet another housin estate. I was enraged at the unfairness of it all. I looked at the government and felt forgotten. I met my ex in that housin estate. Fiona her family lived near…she was full of stories…stories I was enthralled by. Fiona er family is third generation True IRA.”

Molly felt her breath catch in her throat at the information. All she could picture was car bombs and other horrible acts of violence. The word terrorism danced around in her mind.

She was tempted to yank her hand from Chibs’ at the information. She remained locked in place though forcing herself to listen as he continued. “I listened to her tales of a free Ireland…I felt so angry, so fuckin mad at my life’s circumstances. She made the tales sound so grand, so noble. I was in love with the promises she sold bout the fight fer the cause. As we grew older I fell in love with her too…My aunt was agains it. She saw only trouble and misery in Fiona. My aunt talked me into joinin the military when I was eighteen. She thought it would straighten me out and I saw a chance to break the system from the inside. I served in the Queens armed services for five months. I was a medic...until I was court martialed…I had a temper, didn’t like followin orders…plus I was prone to doin favors fer Fiona and the cause…After I was discharged I was all fer the cause…all fer Fiona. I worked as a mechanic by day and fer the cause by night. Fiona and I were happy even in the chaos and the violence. We survived more than we should have…threats on our lives near death experiences…I didn’t expect to survive my twenties and then I did…I was thirty two when Fiona found out she was pregnant, we had a little girl, my Kerrianne. I loved bein her da…It changed me…cooled down that temper. I didn’t want tobe like my da…I wanted to be less full of hate. I know lookin back now that lack of hate made me a target in the cause. Fiona had this friend...a man she'd known for a long while, Jimmy. I thought he was my friend too but I was wrong." 

Molly's hand remained pressed to his cheek though everything about this entire story filled her with dread. 

She knew that despite her fear she couldn't pull away from him. She couldn't find it in her to fear him. It was an uncomfortable thought. She should be terrified of him right now, but she remained sat by him unable to pull away. Was there something deeply wrong with her? Was she sick? Did Brian ruin her this much? 

She looked into his eyes trying to make it clear that she cared for him as he continued. "Jimmy was jealous of me...He thought that I wasn't good enough fer my girls...Jimmy asked me ta come see him one night at his apartment...to discuss business he said. When I got there he told me how it was goin ta be. He said that Fiona was his now...that my wife and my little girl were his. He said that I had to leave Belfast...leave Ireland. He said that if I ever came back home he would kill my girls...He had a knife...I think he meant to try to slit my throat but I pulled away...tried ta fight him. Didn’t have a thing to defend me. He slashed my cheeks...told me it was ta remind me of my place...a Glagow smile...I almos died…I spent a long time wishin I had. I joined up with a group we worked with in the cause…a motorcycle club in Belfast…SAMBEL. I had always loved motorcycles and I was friendly with the club. They saw a broken man in need and took me in. I found a sense of somethin in it. I tried to stay in Ireland and somehow the cause allowed it even with Jimmy’s orders fer me to leave. They saw me workin with the club as a way to keep our business relationship with the cause rollin. I…I tried to watch my Kerrianne from afar. Fiona would sneak photos to me through people we knew…when my Kerrianne turned four…Jimmy threatened me again. Told me if I didn’t get the hell out of Belfast then he’d make my life worse…that he’d hurt my girls. I patched over to SAMCRO, got to the states."

Molly let out a shaky breath catching the comment about patching over to SAMCRO. If the Belfast charter of the MC was involved with the cause…then was SAMCRO involved as well. 

She pushed the thought from her mind not wanting to accept it. It was too much. This was all too much.

She stared at Chibs something deep in her heart screaming over the voices that insisted this was too much. She saw the pain in his eyes.

She thought of him almost dying…she thought of the pain of losing his family. She thought of the pain of wishing for death.

She found herself unable to yank away from him and demand he get out of her house and far from her and her child.

"What happened to him? Jimmy? The other night you said you see your daughter now." Molly asked after a moment of silence. 

"He's dead...Fiona is dedicated to the cause though…she ain interested in comin to reestablish any marriage. I tried ta make it work with Fiona, I fuckin begged her to eventually return to me. She ain’ interested in it. She insists on refusin me a divorce...I’m goin to file though. I ain’ worried bout upsetting Kerrianne by it. My daughter is old enough to know that I can’t remain married to her Ma. Fiona don’t want to remain married to me either. She’s jus…I think she’s gotten used to me bein there if she ever wants me." Chibs explained not willing to tell her just how Jimmy had died.

He couldn't tell her, not yet. She was already afraid. He didn't want to make her fear him anymore than she already probably did.

He cringed hoping she would not pull away at the mention of his marital status. He meant what he said. Gemma had spelled out the truth for him. Fiona was refusing the divorce because remaining married was convenient to her. Fiona had told him it was time to let go, and he was going to do just that.

"I can understand if yer frightened...If ya don't wanna see me again...I'd understand." Chibs stated fearing that she would tell him to get out of her house; that his past would be just too much for her.

Molly let the offer roll around in her mind. It would be easy to shove him from her life. It would be simple to give into the fear she felt coursing through her veins. She could easily give into the voice that told her this was too much.

The pain in his eyes stuck in her heart though…her heart reminded her of the man he had shown himself to be to her thus far. 

He had been sweet and adoring. He’d been so gentle and so kind. 

Could she condemn him for his past? Could she punish him for past sins even if he’d opened up to her about the pain entangled in those sins? 

She feared that there was more to the story. She knew that there was more to the story.

She knew what her heart told her though. She knew what her soul felt. 

She did the last thing Chibs Telford expected. She leaned in, pressing kiss to both of his cheeks as she spoke. "Don't go anywhere."

He let out a breath; his hands began to shake as he came to the realization that she still wanted him. He held her against him his entire body shaking as he struggled to come back down from the anxiety attack that had been building in him. 

She sighed her stomach in knots. “I can’t say I’m comfortable with what you’ve done in Belfast…I can’t pretend that it doesn’t scare the hell out of me. I can’t lie and say I don’t have more questions for you…and that I’m not sure how I’m going to feel about the answer to those questions. I do know that I like you a lot, Filip. I can’t be afraid of your past. I believe you when you say you are filing for divorce. I’m trusting you. I am going against every better judgment I have and am placing my trust in you. Please don’t give me a reason to stop trusting you.”

“I won’t, Love. I swear to ya.” He reassured her letting out a breath he wasn’t aware he’d even been holding. 

He leaned into her hand that still remained pressed to his cheek. She spoke again, suddenly remembering Gemma's words about SAMCRO. "Filip, Why does Samcro need lawyers?"

"Can we talk bout it later...please, Sweet Lass. Jus...I have spilled enough horror fer one nigh..can I tell ya that story later." Chibs begged not wanting to pull off any more band-aids, not tonight at least.

Molly decided to ignore the voice in her head that was telling her to force him to answer her, as she leaned into him.

The voice in the back of her head told her she was crazy, that this was too much, that she would live to regret this.

She hushed the voice though telling herself that she would cross that bridge when it came to it. She was going to do her best to trust in Chibs. 

Molly was scared, but she would rather be scared with him than afraid all on her own. 

She pressed her lips to his knowing that things would never be the same between them. The truth was out, and there was still more to hear.

Chibs held her against him as they kissed trying to forget the worries that we're bouncing around his brain.

He tried to tell himself that it would all work out, if she could handle the tale of his past, then she could handle anything.

He just didn't want to lose her or Mason; He refused to lose her.

[elegant-fleuret]

old man brainrot coming in. obsessed.

Rating: Explicit Pairing: Mobius M. Mobius/Reader Summary: If anyone was to blame for this situationship it was whoever at PepsiCo thought it was a good idea to invent Josta soda.

Ch001: What does my coworker's spit taste like?

No one in the TVA gets sick.

Something about the rigorous vaccination process that all employees go through every so often that leads to almost complete immunity against all viruses and bacteria that ever existed everywhere at all times. At least that’s what you've always assumed each time it was your turn to bend over with your pants down, getting needle after needle stabbed in your buttcheeks by the dear TVA medical department. Hundreds of years working and you’ve yet to hear about any one having even so much as a runny nose.

So there’s no reason to ever think you’re sick. 

There’s just a constant tickling in your throat. 

Irritation of the mucus membrane, right up behind your uvula, in an area at the bottom of your nasal passageway before your throat. There's an urge to clear your throat, to try and itch the tickle or try to swallow down what feels like a lump of mucus. But it never works. All you get is dirty side eye looks from the analyst sitting at the desk surrounding you and the sounds of them scraping their chairs as they move as far away as they can from you. You try not to take offense, you wouldn’t want to be sitting next to someone who was trying to discreetly hack up a lung for hours on end.

You're not sick. The air in the analyst room is just dry. And you forgot to grab any water during break.

For the umpteenth time since you sat down in your chair to work hours ago that damn tickle is near unbearable. You try to convince yourself to yawn, taking in a deep breath of dry air and forcing your mouth to water as well as your eyes. As you swallow, desperate for some inkling of moisture relief, you realize it was not enough. Shit. Now you had a dry throat, watering eyes, and you were going to have to cough.  

You were definitely not sick. 

Just when you pull your elbow to your mouth to cough there's a movement in the corner of your eye. A metal can is suddenly in your field of vision. You turn your head to see the hand holding the metal can, connected to the arm of one of your fellow analysts. Older, maybe middle aged, with short, slicked back gray hair and kind smile under a silly looking mustache. Your eyes blink, blurry from yawn-tears. Obviously he worked with you in some capacity. What was his name?

You take the can and notice it's not only already open but it's also half empty.

“Figure you might need it more than me,” he says like it's a perfectly normal act to offer a coworker your half drunk can of soda. His smile is crooked just like his nose, both totally uniquely identifiable traits that you would remember if you had seen before. His name and his oddly handsome face escapes you in the sea of hundreds of other TVA analysts you've met. 

You look up at him then back down to the can. You do not want to thank him for his slightly used drink and you don't want to drink the rest of it either. But you find yourself doing both.

Illness can’t spread in the TVA because no one, ever, gets sick.

The can's design is bold in its ugliness. A bright yellow rectangle highlights the name, Josta, written in a font that screams trying too hard to be extreme, against a bright red background.  On one hand you wanted to roll your eyes. On the other hand, your mustachioed coworker is still standing at your desk as if he was waiting for you to take a sip. Ah, of course, one of the TVA’s many weirdos. You raise the can in his direction before bringing it to your lips.

Josta is… peculiar. To put it lightly.

Carbonated bubbles fizz to the top of the brown liquid, a faint popping sound that you hear only moments before you smell its sickly sweet scent. It tingles your nose in a not exactly pleasant way. The fruity taste is borderline chemical, as if someone has seen a picture of a berry once and tried to guess the taste then shoved it in a soda to manufacture the hell out of it. Every taste bud on your tongue begs you for mercy.

You hide your reaction of disgust behind the back of your hand, under the guise of daintily wiping your lips, eyes widening as you force yourself to make a little yum noise. Mr. Mustachio seems pleased, pleased enough that he claps you on the shoulder, tosses what you assume is a finished report on your desk, then gives you a wink before sauntering off to who knows where. You watch him leave, eyes focused on the swirl of a cowlick in his gray hair on the back of his head, until he disappears into the sea of analysts. 

Who was that guy?

It takes every ounce of your will power but you manage to finish what was left in the can. What it lacks in good taste it makes up for in being a liquid other than your spit. Instead of a dry throat tickle you're now dealing with the leftover taste of faux berry cola with the little extra flavoring of Mr. Mustachio’s backwash. It clings to your tongue for the next hour just like the saucy little wink clings to your mind. 

You smack your tongue against the top of your mouth before you get back to what you were doing. The manilla folder he so fluidly tossed landed top of the one you were already working on. Curious, it wasn't often that the analyst brought you the reports themselves. You blink at it with curiosity before flicking open the top, eyes skimming the report to see what could have possibly made Mr. Mustachio think any of that interaction was worth it. Nothing. 

Without a second thought it gets neatly placed at the bottom of the stack. Sly dog thinking he could garner favor with you so you'd get his report checked out before the others in line? Nuh-uh, not with a slightly used soda. You settle back into your work groove, throat sufficiently quenched until you can take another break, letting the entire awkward interaction fade from your mind.

Until the buzzing started. 

(continue reading at the ao3 link for the sexy bits)

[postcreditscene]

Summer Post-Depression

It’s remarkably lonely coming out of such a crushing depression. Especially on the brink of change like this. Leaving the blanket of suicidal thoughts and the pillows of my prolonged girlhood is utterly terrifying. I, a girl who honestly did not plan to make it past the notable yet small age of thirteen, now have to pick universities, do my a-levels, wait patiently for exam results to know if my school will let me keep studying with them. My whole life is a painful and dreadful limbo now.

Summer holidays are always an end of an era in my life as my fall forsaken birthday comes closer yet again. This summer is decidedly my last as a girl and my first as a woman. Why? Because I finally don’t want to kill myself so badly that I need to make something of myself instead of just making sure the self survived. It clearly did as this is not a post mortem (although I may do one on my birthday, for the girl that will surely wither away for my more adult self). The past six months have been full of this, cramming the half of my classes I missed between gym sessions and fucking valorant matches has kept my mind occupied. Until now. Now I am sitting in the polish countryside, typing this on a sun warmed chair swing enjoying the last hours of silence before my aunt, her ape-ish husband and their rotund son come back. Nothing against my art of course, and every day I wonder what she did so wrong to be cursed with sons instead of daughters.

Either way, the peace will be over within the hour as my mother and her new boyfriend come back from their run. I’ve never met a man more loudly and confidently stupid. He is obtrusive. That is the only way I can describe him without being downright nasty and I’m really trying to stop doing that. Sadly after this holiday ad the following one in Paris with my father and his empty headed racist bimbo small-minded small-chested rotten in the soul wife I will be forced to live with my mother and her boyfriend in some sad new build house with his untrained poorly vaccinated dog and the fucking outdoor cat that I will be undoubtedly violently allergic to. Maybe I am a bit of a mean person. For context, my father’s wife forced me out of my own house (after having plunged me into living with her for a year, the attempts made during that year and the memories from that time are long forgotten) and my mother acts like a complete fucking retard as soon as her boyfriend is involved (for example, forgetting I exist, fucking off for two weeks at a time after my beloved childhood dog passed away, and most insultingly letting him call me ‘scary’). I had planned for this blog to be profound and not just a rant.

Circling back to the end of my girlhood and my subsequent rebirth as a woman (or just a teenage girl, god knows what kind of metamorphosis I will commit to). To simplify the goals of this transformation for myself, I’ve made a simply list.

• Get a boyfriend

• Go to school for at least 4/5 days of the week (I only did one full week of school last year about halfway through the spring)

• Fuck previously stated boyfriend (I might be scared of sex but I’ll totally get over that if he’s hot enough)

• Maybe get a girlfriend instead because dick is gross

• Go to the gym three times a week at least

• Plot some kind of cosmic level revenge on my sister who went fucking crazy and refused to do my hair before my school dance.

A very achievable list of goals for the summer and the following year of my life.

Back to the summer. I’m attending a wedding where there is apparently a very rich young man a year or two older than me that’s just finished studying at a boarding school in Switzerland who I’m supposed to be meeting. And he’s supposed to be handsome on top of that. What a catch (I’ll update you to weather he’s actually handsome or not). Perhaps a decent candidate to lose my ‘hold hands romantically’ virginity to. It is very hard being old and an ex-ugly still kind of strange neurodivergent woman. And now I sound like a social justice warrior.

Anyways, unbothered silence is over as is my writing session this fine morning. So I hope this serves as a half- decent introduction to my summer and my blog. Sorry that this is all over the place, I’m not good with introductions.

[jung-koook]

Jin didn't have a "stalker". She had official leave to visit the unit Jin was in to bring more of the vaxine as the unit was short of it and than helped out with the vaccination. The military is strict with that stuff at least and it was found out that she didn't desert her post but was officially over at the other unit. Luck I guess.

Taehyung's building has security but it seems she was let through possibly because she walked with Tae.

BH can't give them bodyguards when it is not official schedule without their permission and I doubt Taehyung or JK have given it.

That is their private home and the buildings have security.

If it works?

well.. in this case they may have thought she was with him for whatever reason.

I feel helpless, too but let us not be unreasonable. Stalking - dangerous, too - can happen to anyone and I wouldn't want a bodyguard to follow me into my apartment either.

💜

the articles I read about what happened to jin mentioned completely different things from what you said here. even the last one I read was mentioning how she could go to jail for what she did. but it's always like that. articles will sometimes mention different things. I don't know, I have a different opinion because I want to protect them even though I can't, so I would like something to actually be done to protect them from these situations. suing these people seems to no longer stop them from trying to do something against them.

[revunant]

𝐃𝐘𝐈𝐍𝐆;

                                          𝐡𝐨𝐰 𝐢𝐭 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐤𝐬 -                                𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐰𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐢𝐭 𝐝𝐨𝐞𝐬 𝐭𝐨 𝐲𝐨𝐮.

𝐅𝐑𝐎𝐌 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐎𝐔𝐓𝐒𝐈𝐃𝐄 𝐈𝐍.

It’s a process Jean knows well, and he’s almost upsettingly routine about it when he sees it coming. If you’re close enough to him that not only does he think you’ll have to experience it first-hand, but also would like to avoid subjecting you to unnecessary stress, he’ll probably make some effort to prepare you for what's to come.

You're familiar with dead bodies, at least on paper. I’ll be cold, I’ll have no pulse, I won’t be breathing. If rigor mortis never sets in, that’s a good thing. If it does set in, uh - I don't know what happened, but you might want to start planning a funeral. Lay me down somewhere that the cops can’t find me and wait. Hide me in the wheelie bin if you have to. I’m usually out for two or three days; if it’s longer, don’t panic. Be patient. Defying nature can take time. When I wake up, I’ll be confused. I might be scared. I’ll probably be bleeding, depending on what offed me. Don’t get too handsy, uh- actually, try to keep your distance. I won’t be capable of much, but I don’t want to hurt you, and if I'm scared enough, I'll probably try. If I start hurting myself, let it happen. Let me come down. I’ll remember who I was and where I am and things will be peachy again.

It’s simple enough, assuming you don’t want to know any more than that. He dies, he enters stasis, his body regenerates as much as it needs to in order to sustain life, and he returns. Jean would prefer that you avoid asking many questions about it, even if you have no intention of asking them out loud. But, for the sake of science, let’s go against his wishes.

𝐖𝐇𝐄𝐑𝐄 𝐃𝐎 𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐆𝐎 𝐖𝐇𝐄𝐍 𝐘𝐎𝐔'𝐑𝐄 𝐃𝐄𝐀𝐃?

Ekt; the Chasm herself. Cihnem Lis'ekt, Spinewalker, is in some ways a very literal title - except the Chasm doesn't really have a spine. Dormant as she is (with no solid evidence that she's ever been awake) she's less of a deity and more of a plane of existence. A living, ever-growing, ever-shifting purgatory. She guides the dead to the next life as you might guide a bug onto a leaf.

Cihnem Lis'ekt are to her like the opposite of a vaccine. An intruder inoculated with an inert dose of her own blood, enough to make them unrecognisable. If the other dead are insects being ferried back outside, then Spinewalkers crawl unseen under her skin; are parasites. The relationship between goddess and champion is not a conscious one, or even a consenting one.

Jean refers to the act of returning to Earth as being rejected, but the truth is the Chasm never knows he's there. In fact, the Chasm lets him stay there forever.

Each death is infinite and mind-breaking. An average of two days in the real world equates to something without end in the Chasm. It feels like an impossibility for him to wake up somewhere else at all, having spent an eternity walking across her back, and an eternity isn't supposed to have a finish line.

The time there is spent walking. There isn't much else to do, but something about the landscape consumes him with both a compulsion to move forward and a dread of what his destination might be. The landscape is both constantly shifting, and completely unchanging. It's completely white, with a black sky, but at the same time it's brilliant with red and blue and yellow that make your brain bleed to look at. The ground is flat. The ravines are bottomless. The mountains break the sky open.

𝐀𝐑𝐄 𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐑𝐄 𝐋𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐄𝐅𝐅𝐄𝐂𝐓𝐒?

Jean would say no, and he’d be anywhere between lying and mistaken, depending on the point in time at which you ask him.

There are lasting effects. In every way, there are lasting effects. His body suffers for it, his mind suffers for it, there’s every possibility that his soul suffers for it*, depending on your belief in souls. Beyond the lethal injuries themselves, the act of dying and coming back has a deteriorative effect, especially on his brain, notably the limbic system & anterior cingulate cortex.

This isn’t because of actual injury; rather due to the Chasm being a pretty extreme cognitohazard. As time spent in the Chasm accumulates, behavioural and emotional conduct deteriorate, among other things (empathy, self preservation, fear & pain processing, memory, etc.). The penalty from a single death is small, but there's no way of reversing the damage once it's been done.

Comparatively, the strain on his body is slight. When he was first inoculated, Ekt's blood caused so much damage to his blood vessels and heart that it killed him in a matter of hours - most tributes would not have come back from this kind of reaction, but Jean was fortunate (or unfortunate) to have been kept alive for long enough that by the time he died, he was already part of the Chasm.

His assumption is that every time he visits the Chasm, this circulatory damage gets worse, and this is why his body gets worse at keeping itself warm. What he doesn't know is that he's not really that much more susceptible to dying of hypothermia than a regular person would be, and that this chill is less about physical damage and more about his connection to Ekt, and his closeness to her frozen expanse. It boils down to this; how much of her blood is in his?

There are the expected things on top of this; wear and tear, lethal wounds, nonlethal wounds, result in scar tissue, chronic pain, missing pieces. Though Jean's body is a little more adept at healing some things, he's far from invulnerable. The only reasons he'd be harder to kill than a human not affiliated with Ekt is because it's near impossible for him to die from exsanguination (a gift from Ekt) and because he's horribly, horribly determined (completely unrelated to Ekt).

Something that can only be observed when comparing one reality's version of a Cihnem Lis'ekt to another's is what it is that has an effect on their brain. The hidden truth is that it's the pace at which they cross the Chasm's back. The further you travel, the more she reaches into you; the more she is part of you. The worse the dread gets.

Every time Jean dies, he gets closer to something. And it's scraping away at the things that make him human.

*Author note; some characters have noted that there is damage done to Jean's soul with every death. I say it like that because in his setting there aren't really souls as a separate thing from someone's mind and consciousness, and as such there's no canon to the effects on his soul, or what it looks like, or how it copes. Jean doesn't know, Jean doesn't want to know, and I think it's more fun for the characters who are able to see/sense souls to have their own interpretation. The same goes for his aura, or magical signature, etc, etc, etc.

𝐇𝐎𝐖 𝐃𝐎 𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐑𝐄𝐓𝐔𝐑𝐍 𝐓𝐎 𝐀 𝐁𝐎𝐃𝐘 𝐓𝐇𝐀𝐓 𝐃𝐈𝐄𝐃?

The rules, as Jean knows them, are as follows: he can be hurt, he can get sick (though most pathogens and parasites struggle to survive in his body), and he can die. He ages - or at least he thinks he does.

His healing factor is abnormal, especially after death, prioritising small-scale, widespread damage. Injury and abnormality on a cellular and chromosomal level are healed almost instantly; lesser injuries such as bruises, small wounds and sprains heal at a noticeably quicker rate; severe wounds and broken bones heal at a more-or-less normal one. Cancers stand even less of a chance than pathogens and parasites.

Mortal wounds, however, will heal at an accelerated rate while Jean’s body is still dead, up to (and, for security, a little past) the point required for it to sustain life again. Long-term mechanical damage is usually at least limited, if not negated entirely; though old wounds can still hurt, can still scar, and missing parts do not grow back.

In the event that his body is destroyed rather than just killed, life finds a way. It's not quite as gnarly as being stitched together from the exact ashes, or atoms, that once comprised his body. After anywhere between a few minutes to a few weeks, he wakes up, in an intact, uninjured, naked body.

And he always wakes up in the same place; on the dusty stone altar near which the traces of Ekt's blood were found, hidden in a cave near Mardin, Turkey. Beyond being existentially upsetting (what was he formed from? how did his life know which body to return to? how does he know he's still the same person?) it's, as you can imagine, a bit inconvenient. He tries to avoid this scenario if he can help it, but it's happened a couple of times in the last 15 years.

𝐖𝐇𝐀𝐓 𝐈𝐅 𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐂𝐀𝐍'𝐓 𝐇𝐄𝐀𝐋?

This is the part Jean doesn’t like to think about, if he can help it. It's not, however, something he tries especially hard to avoid, partially because it's an entirely theoretical outcome. To him.

There are stories and even some depictions of Cihnem Lis'ekt reanimating with their ribcages wrapped around spears and axes and swords, like a tree growing around a fence or a sign or a gravestone. Stories of champions whose bodies simply didn't have it in them to close a wound and so tore holes elsewhere in order to patch themselves up, breaking down and sloughing off and rebuilding in an agonising and seemingly never-ending cycle.

Champions whose problem wasn't that they didn't heal enough, but that they healed too much; who rejected all medical treatment, and for whom a broken bone meant the bone growing out, through, and over the skin in order to prevent being broken again. Eldritch forms of stone man syndrome. Bodies twisting around and over themselves to guard their soft stomachs.

The reasons for these consequences, as with a lot of things related to Ekt and her champions, are unknown. Many Cihnem Lis'ekt could break bones and be impaled and contain foreign bodies without suffering any effects not seen in normal humans (Jean, for instance, in one reality, spent 50 years trapped in a cave-in, dying over and over with a pike in his side, and only got a nasty scar for his trouble).

It's suggested that these champions, though cursed to live out the rest of their days in some kind of agony, were Ekt's favourites. Not only did they survive the trials required to become her champion, but were believed to have been somehow actively chosen by the sleeping god; not only accepted, but picked out. The twisting cage that became of their skeletons, or the ever-shifting landscape of rifts and ravines that became of their flesh, was a power bestowed unto them, a mark of pride, a blessing.

Because they looked like Her.

Evidently, the Chasm, simultaneously asleep and inanimate and incomprehensibly non-human, doesn't know what a privilege is supposed to look like, probably doesn't know what causes living things pain; and rewards her chosen ones in ways that amount to horrific, lifelong torture. It's not known if she's able to love her chosen, but if she does, her way of feeling love is something that humans can never hope to comprehend.

𝐖𝐇𝐀𝐓 𝐈𝐅 𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐅𝐎𝐑𝐂𝐄 𝐘𝐎𝐔𝐑 𝐖𝐀𝐘 𝐈𝐍?

It's known that ancient Cehim Lis'ekt had a different experience than the modern one does. The definite is that ancient champions, after making it through their gruelling trials, were revered and worshipped, treated as something between royalty and a messiah, while Jean was killed a few times for science and then used as an attack dog for several years, locked in a white room, barely eating or sleeping.

A bigger difference is that, judging by his reaction to Ekt's blood, he was never supposed to walk her spine to begin with. It's only by virtue of modern medicine that he stayed alive for long enough for her blood to take root in him. The Chasm doesn't seem to know the difference. Pieter, at least, didn't observe any great change in Jean versus his predecessors from millennia ago.

...Due to Jean not being a very reliable narrator, or test subject, and struggling to properly convey the things that Pieter couldn't figure out by observation alone. Ancient Cihnem Lis'ekt, while not all were chosen by Ekt, were at least accepted, or acknowledged, by her. They would die, and be turned away.

Jean, with only a few hours of life support, managed to sneak through her defences. She doesn't know he exists. He dies, and goes unseen. He trespasses. He wanders infinitely. Worse, still; the fact that he wasn't the one who forced his way in, but that someone else did it on his behalf.

[medicalkink101]

Medical Memories 2

Another conversation where we find out more memories from a medical examination this time after an interview!

Medical Exam 101: Hello so you have a medical examination interest. How long will have you has this?

R: It was really since I saw classmates stripped down to white gym shorts waiting in line for a vaccination.

Medical Exam 101: And do you have any memories of medical examinations as an adult?

R: I had a medical as part of a job interview process. I wasn’t expecting it. This firms company Doctor just happens to be onsite.

That was my first rekindling of my interest

Medical Exam 101: Ah sounds like quite a shock if it was after the interview! Could you describe what happened, so the interviewer said you had to meet with the doctor....what happened then? What was said if you can remember? What happened from start to finish? How did you feel when you found out you had to have a medical?

R: HR said usually we ask you to undergo a medical when in role but would you mind if it was done today. Well it was a shock but I kind of knew at least I had the job.

Medical Exam 101: Yes of course, anything else you can remember

R: I waited in a corridor for ages and got more and more nervous. Eventually the doctor came back from a break and called me into the company medical room. He asked me to sit down and he talked me through a medical history questionnaire.

Medical Exam 101: Okay, what sort of the age was the doctor. Also how old were you then?

R: He asked me to remove my jacket and shirt for a chest exam with a stethoscope standing. Then ears, nose and throat. Then asked me to ‘strip down to my underwear’ and sit on the medical couch.

Medical Exam 101: What sort of questions were you asked? It sounds like you were in for quite an extensive exam, when did you realise this?

R: He did my reflexes. He then asked me to lie back. I remember him lowering the back rest so I was completely flat. He then sort of tapped around my tummy. I realised I was in for a full medical. He said it was a head to toe medical.

Medical Exam 101: Oh so you had your tummy tapped and pressed. What was that like? And were you excited or nervous when you knew it was the full head to toe?

R:The Doctor pressed with his fingers in four places. Then sort of tapped with one hand against the other.

Medical Kink 101: Okay I bet that felt relaxing. Being prodded and poked!

R: I was nervous and excited. It felt good to be examined mentally in the interview but also physically during the very thorough medical. It might of been the excitement of getting the job or being in front of a good looking man just in my pants but I started to get a semi errection.

Medical Kink 101: Yes indeed, when you were in a position of being near naked and not knowing what was going to happen. You have a role play examination coming up. I'm intrigued about hearing your thoughts and feelings about all of that?

R: Yes, I thought the pants were gonna stay on, but he asked me too to to pull them down and he looked at my penis and testicles. Rolled my testicles arrange with his thumb and forefinger.  He just gently said ‘I’m afraid I’m going to need you to pull down your underwear as I need to check inside’.

Medical Kink 101: Okay, very very extensive and you were being throughly examined! Do feel free to share more about your genital work up.

R: I remember his hands being quite cold and being shocked when he touched me. He rolled my balls in his fingers for what seems like ages, but only touched my penis very briefly.

Medical Kink 101: So you got more of a testicular exam rather than penis inspection.

R: I think a role-play medical excites me because I have the experience of the intimacy and being looked after, but without so much fear of getting an errection. Have you had a full medical examination role play before? Do you have any more feelings about it happening? It will be very exciting!

Medical Kink 101: I'm interested in you telling me more about what you said about intimacy and the feeling of being looked after....

R: I think I like the feeling of being cared for by a professional and being naked when the doctor is clothed, feel vulnerable but also safe. For me just in pants and hard sexual but it’s not sexual.

Medical Kink 101: Thank you for telling me so much about your medical experiences R, it would be great to hear more at a later date!

[radfae]

hi there i like your blog. i do disagree with some of your general statements about gender transition being just about wearing dresses or having short hair, as if trans people don't seek out medical transition because we are acutely aware that clothing and hairstyle aren't inherent to sex or gender.

even if gender is abolished(whatever that means(and i doubt it ever will be, same as i doubt humans will ever stop eating meat even though it's objectively detrimental and unsustainable)), i feel as though i would still take testosterone in a genderfree society because i enjoy the physical changes it gives me.

i am physically healthy, mentally stable person(at least according to my doctors and pyschiatrists), hrt is not causing my body significant harm and yet i see radfems like you constantly say im mutilating or ruining my body. why aren't you this vocal about drinking or smoking or gambling, which is far more prevalent and harmful? why is a breast reduction mutilating my body but electively choosing to get my tonsils removed or getting body piercings/tattoos not? i experience more statistical danger getting in my car and driving to work each day than i ever will being on hrt or transitioning. unless you live a 100% zero waste chemical free crunchy hippie lifestyle i don't think you have any right to preach to others that their actions are harming their own bodies. abortions can cause harm. vaccines can cause harm. chemotherapy can cause harm. all these things are not always necessary but are always neutral.

just curious what you and your community make of this specifically. i tried not to assume anything about you that i haven't seen you explicitly say or reblog so please don't make any assumptions about me aside from what I've said here. would love to talk more I might come off anon if you respond. thanks for reading anyways feel free to ignore have good day

hi, sorry for the late response, i wanted to be able to actually give you an answer and i haven’t had the time. i’m not on tumblr very much

first, i personally very much avoid the term ‘mutilating’ and anything similar because i find it rude. please don’t group me in with people that aren’t me.

second, i answered an ask like this recently. please read that.

third, i’m not speaking out on drugs and nicotine + tobacco because everyone already knows they’re harmful. informed consent is absolutely no issue. if someone is drinking or smoking, they’ve accepted that this is bad for them, and they continue to do it. not to mention that it isn’t something borne of a mental illness (unless you have an addiction, in which case you should stop), and it doesn’t make you a lifelong patient. if it helps, in my personal life off of social media, i do speak out against smoking and vaping to my friends and family constantly, because i come from a family of smokers. i’m always bugging one of my close friends about her vape lol. and everything else you mentioned is gender neutral and has little to do with societal pressure… not much to speak out about, they’re completely neutral actions. and anyway, my blog is about feminism. i talk about feminism. that’s kind of like going to a blog about gay rights, or whatever else, and saying “why aren’t you talking about ___?” because that’s not what my blog is about.

fourth, i don’t doubt that sex dysphoria would still exist in a world removed from gender, but how prevalent would it be? you’d think a lot of people like you would say the same; “i’d still take this anyway”, but i’ve spoken to a lot of trans people personally who agree with me that our gendered society is a problem and life would be better off without all the rules and structure; largely, the issue is that our society as it stands encourages gender dysphoria (interpret that as you will, as it comes from many, many different places and adds up over time), and some people feel like they have to transition to be comfortable. and i do encourage you to look more into gender abolition, if you’re following it up with “whatever that means”.

[aro-aizawa]

besties, y’know, i don’t think i’m doing so good