#Combat Readiness

[historyofguns]

In the article "Lethal Dangers in Extreme Close Quarters Defense" by Mike Boyle, the author emphasizes the importance of mastering self-defense tactics in close-quarters scenarios. Boyle, a veteran police trainer, points out that many violent confrontations occur at conversational distances, making immediate and decisive action essential. He critiques past training methods that focused on engagements from a distance and stresses the need for modern techniques that address threats within arm's reach. Strategies such as shooting from a retention position, “shove and shoot,” and the potential necessity of contact shots with firearms like the Hellcat are discussed. Boyle underscores the value of being prepared for unexpected threats and advocates for effective training and situational awareness to handle such high-risk, close-proximity situations. The article concludes with a reminder that firearm self-defense must be justified under circumstances of imminent danger.

[hapalopus]

No one on tumblr understands what a changeling is. It's not an infant troll for you to raise. It's an ancient creature, magicked to look like an infant. It's not a friendship to be fostered, it's a foe you have to beat. The changeling is not an innocent victim, it is completely on board with kidnapping your real child, and only stays with you to fool you into forgetting your real child. Changeling lore is cruel and unjust. You cannot 'win' in a changeling scenario - you either have to abuse the changeling until the trolls bring back your real child, or you have to accept that you'll never get your real child back. Changeling lore is cruel. It came about in a time of cruelty. To clean it up and make it appealing is naïve and disrespectful.

[thinwhitedoc]

SHERLOCK | Martin Freeman as John Watson

[laughhardrunfastbekindsblog]

Can we talk about the fact that Tech went from flat out unconscious, snoring, basically stage 3 non-REM sleep...

^(no but seriously, if you watch the scene closely his breathing is deep and even, dude is passed out)

... to wide awake, alert, and talking in less than 2 seconds?

^("Oh, you made it," he greets Wrecker.)

My man even maximizes the efficiency of his sleep!

[shalomniscient]

very vividly thinking of a yanagi x reader fic except reader is miyabi’s adopted older sister who was supposed to be the hoshimi heir before miyabi’s surprise conception but who still loved miyabi and her family nonetheless and was loved in turn though miyabi’s mother still always wanted miyabi to stay away from the battlefield and reader was supposed to take miyabi’s place. and so reader always had this goal in her mind to protect miyabi but the fall of the old capital happens while reader is at military boarding school and isn’t there when their mother becomes the sacrifice and miyabi is chosen by tailless.

the grief of it all and the idea that she failed drives reader apart from miyabi. miyabi goes into swordsmanship properly and reader resents every second of it even though their father supports miyabi wholly because it reminds her of the promise she failed to keep to their mother. miyabi is left wondering why her big sister suddenly seems to hate her. reader’s horrendous cocktail of grief, guilt and shame is miscontrued by everyone around her as jealousy of her more talented younger sister, including yanagi when she’s later recruited by miyabi alongside harumasa to form hsos6.

by this point reader is a bigshot at HAND so she gets invited by the sections to hang out, and (finally) the reader/yanagi meet ugly happens when reader is invited alongside section 5 to go for karaoke with section 6. reader is just pointedly glaring at tailless the whole time and has to go out for a smoke break and yanagi confronts her about her “jealousy”. they’re both a little tipsy by now (the karaoke sesh had drinks involved, soukaku stayed over with some of nagi’s friends) and the argument ends up into a stupidly hot makeout session which turns into reader waking up in yanagi’s bed late the next morning. by that point yanagi is already awake and soukaku was sent home by her friend so they’re in the kitchen having breakfast when reader stumbles in and proceeds to horrendously out herself as being a fake idgafer who still longs for her family but doesn’t know how to fix what she’s let rot and forgive herself for her “failure”. reader obviously admits none of this but yanagi notes the way reader’s demeanor softens and she slides back into an older sister role as if she never left. anyway at the crux of it all is with yanagi’s help reader gets her shit together and they kiss about it. also reader gets her family back because is it really a yanagi fic without family themes.

[forsworned]

Swedish Kustjägare - Coastal Rangers

[pinnithin]

Quick sketch of my lesbian vampire cowboy paladin, Leslie Conrad!

[2bcringe]

Yeah

[ratguy-nico]

people I dont know how I did this. the gods guide my hand. Im so proud of the lineart, of course I have problems with some parts, like the background, and the center, and proportions, but it look so good despite this

(I'll probably still hate this tomorrow though T^T)

*In case you dont understand because the placement is awful the text says - YOU ARE FORBIDDEN FROM DYING ON ME - (I apologize to any english speaker or graphic designer for this abomanation)

this was inspire again from a publication of @br1ghtestlight (i feel like a creep for doing this again i'm so sorry, but they have such amazing ideas!) it was a post about Louise being terrified seeing movies like terabithia or my girl cause she imagine Rudy dying on her and that ignite this idea on my brain. I actually make it surprisingly fast for me. I wasn't even expecting on coloring no less everything else, but I just couldn't help it. I was totally invested in the vision.

[historyofguns]

In the article "Learn How to Draw a Pistol — Easy Steps Needed to Save Your Life," veteran police trainer Mike Boyle provides tips for safely and efficiently drawing a pistol for self-defense. The article stresses the importance of being able to quickly respond to potential threats, noting that situational awareness is crucial as there will often be no warning like a whistle or tone to cue action. Boyle outlines a four-step process for drawing a pistol, emphasizing the need for proper holster selection to facilitate a smooth draw. Practical advice includes avoiding holsters that collapse after the gun is drawn, and ensuring the holster allows for a firm grip and one-handed reholstering. The article also details the mechanics of the draw stroke, from gripping the handgun and deactivating retention devices, to lifting the pistol from the holster and assuming a proper shooting position. Additionally, Boyle highlights the necessity of safe practices and the importance of being aware of legal responsibilities when handling firearms. He encourages practicing these techniques with unloaded firearms in a distraction-free environment.

[sonofatoasterwaffle]

Timber Timbre

The firework that sets him off is probably a Roman candle, and way closer than all the other ones have been, by Hen’s estimate. Eddie is on the ground before she can say anything and Hen’s blood runs a little cold at the realization of what’s happening. 

“Eddie,” she says gently. “It’s still fireworks, it’s okay.” 

Eddie is squatting low behind the kitchen island, head down, and he’s visibly shaking. He nods jerkily, but his breathing doesn’t slow at all. Hen’s heart hurts, but she’s careful not to get too close. She’s well versed in many a mental health crisis, but what to do when your friend is having combat flashbacks feels a little out of her depth. She gets low with him, keeps her tone soft and even. “How can I help, Eddie?” 

His eyes are wild when they meet hers, his hands clenching around nothing like he’s physically clinging to the present. “Can you-“ he stutters. “Where is-? I need Buck.” 

Hen is on her feet as quickly as she can without startling him. “I’ll find him, okay? You stay right here.” 

Downstairs, Buck’s holding the heavy bag for Chim, saying something that was probably meant to be encouraging but comes out more antagonistic. Their shift into being brothers has obviously been going well. They both stop in their tracks when they see the look on Hen’s face. 

“Eddie needs you.” It feels important to say it the way he did.

Another firework goes off then and Buck pales. “Oh, shit.” 

Then he’s taking the stairs two at a time with Hen and Chim not far behind. “Kitchen.” She calls after him. 

Eddie is where she left him, but now his hands are pressed against his ears. Buck squats down in front of him slowly, ducking his head so he can catch Eddie’s eye. “Hey, hey, it’s okay, it’s me, I’m here.” He says, like it’s definitely not the first time.

He looks back and Hen and Chimney, whispers, “Can you guys sit with us a second?” 

They nod, taking their places off to the left across from them, backs against the kitchen counter. Close enough if they need help, far enough away to keep their bubble intact. Hen’s grateful for the direction, and when Bobby comes out of his office, she waves him over, finger to her lips. He doesn’t question it, just squats down on Hen’s other side. 

Eddie shudders, breathes hard out of his nose. Says, “Buck.” Real soft. 

Buck nods, scoots closer at the recognition, reaches out to run his fingertips feather-light over Eddie’s forearms. “You’re in LA, Eddie. At the 118.”

Eddie gasps like he’s just reached the surface of water. “Doesn’t- doesn’t feel like it.” 

Buck grimaces. “I know. I know, let’s go through it, okay?” 

Eddie nods, once, lets Buck take his hands and keep going. “I feel,” Buck prompts. 

Eddie closes his eyes. “Panicked.” 

Buck nods, soft look on his face like pride. It makes Hen’s eyes water. Their boy has grown up so much. 

“Because the fireworks made me think about,” 

“The chopper going down. Getting shot at while the fire was burning. Greggs.” Eddie grits out through bared teeth. 

Buck rubs his thumbs over the backs of Eddie’s hands. “But if I look around I can see,” 

Eddie forces his eyes open with what looks like immense effort, trains them on Buck for a solid ten seconds before he looks around the rest of the room. “You. The 118. Bobby. Hen. Chimney.” 

He looks at each of them in turn. Hen nods encouragingly, waves a little, which seems to increase the recognition on his face. 

Buck smiles at him. “Yeah, that’s good, real good.” 

Some of the tension seeps slowly from Eddie’s shoulders, and Buck rewards it with a squeeze of their joined hands. “Tell me what day it is.” 

Another firework goes off in the distance and Hen wants to murder someone. Bobby looks like he’d help her without a second thought. The fucking audacity to set off explosives when you live by a firehouse is astounding. 

Eddie winces but Buck stays firm with him, tapping his fingers rhythmically against Eddie’s knuckles. “What’s the date, Eds?” 

“Fourth of July.” 

“Exactly. Which means,” 

“Morons.” Eddie answers, rote, like he’s been trained. The way Buck’s handling him right now, Hen supposes he has been. 

“You got it.” He praises, pressing forward until his forehead rests against Eddie’s. “Chris was excited, though, remember?” 

“Poke cake.” Eddie responds and Bobby smiles. 

Midwestern traditions often mystify Hen, but Christopher was so excited to make that weird jello cake with Bobby and Buck that she couldn’t help but decide she loved that one. They spent all evening in Bobby and Athena’s kitchen last night, making gratuitously American dishes that should be objectively gross but that Denny and Chris were wild for. Poke cakes with red and blue jello, things being called “salad” that have never and will never be salad, and burgers that were always a welcome staple in Grant-Nash cookouts. 

Buck is tapping his fingers on Eddie’s knees now, alternating as he prods Eddie to talk him through Christopher’s latest science project. Bilateral brain stimulation, her brain provides. Works for most long-term trauma treatment but can also be helpful during flashbacks. Evan “Internet Research Extraordinaire” Buckley certainly hasn’t been a slouch in this endeavor. 

As he talks through Buck’s prompts, Eddie is slowly relaxing, sitting up on his own a bit more but shifting closer to Buck, tension slowly bleeding out of him as he points out the things he knows, the things he can see, what Bobby made for dinner, what Chimney’s favorite show is right now, what class he helped Hen run flashcards for. It makes Hen’s heart grow too big in her chest. To know that they’re a part of Eddie’s recovery, of him feeling safe. 

“Where are you, Eddie?” Buck asks again after a few minutes of this. They’re side by side now, shoulders brushing as they lean back against the island cabinets. 

Eddie takes a deep breath, sags a little against Buck. “I’m in LA. I’m at the 118 firehouse. You’re all here with me. Everyone’s safe.” 

Hen smiles encouragingly at him, Chim says, “We’re here for you, man.” 

Eddie looks away, mutters, “Esto es tan vergonzoso,” color staining his cheeks. 

“Nuh uh.” Buck answers, firm. “None of that. No tienes nada de que avergonzarte.” 

Hen knows Buck spent a while in Peru. Bartending, she thinks. She’s heard him speak Spanish to people on calls before, but his accent has historically been horrendous. It sounds like being in the Diaz orbit has been helpful for that. Hen doesn’t speak Spanish well, but she’s been in LA long enough to get the gist most of the time. 

“Sorry you guys had to see that.” Eddie apologizes anyway, ignoring Buck.

Bobby shuts that down immediately. “Everybody’s got their demons, Eddie. We’re just happy we can help with yours.” 

He tells Eddie he should take the rest of the night, even as Eddie protests that he’s fine and he doesn’t want to leave them hanging. “It’s just a few hours, Eddie. Take him home, Buck?” 

Buck nods, looking relieved that he didn’t have to ask permission. Eddie still looks a little mortified, but it’s tempered by Bobby’s careful hand on his shoulder. “Get some rest, and I’ll see you tomorrow.” 

“When do you think they’ll give in and just get married?” Chim asks after Buck bundles Eddie into his Jeep. 

Bobby snorts. “I’ve had the paperwork ready to go for years.”

Also on AO3

[katkalis-the-fanartist]

A glimpse of what shits like when youre kidnapped as a lab rat and your new residence is Dr. Edgar Zomboss' lab.

[thrucrax]

the veilguard curse.....i just want to play older bioware games; ALSO small rant where i really started losing hope in the story

I HATE GAMES....that make you go through a dialogue tree only to leave you with only ONE option to choose. i am thinking of one conversation with solas where rook's final and only option of dialogue is "I will do whatever it takes" or whatever and UGHHHH

I HATE THAT especially when i'm trying to run a character that would NEVER say that???

ugh i love roleplay games that make you play a character you didn't at all make /sarcasm

this is just an excuse to make a post about how rambert would never "do whatever it takes", he won't lie even to save face or earn trust.

[svyat-da-boev]

aubrey experiment from a few days bac

i like it a lot but I've made too many angry aubreys lately

so here's a joyful one as well