#Good thoughts about Winter

[writersbeware]

Winter Memories

            My family moved to Beavercreek, Ohio just before the beginning of my fourth-grade year of elementary school. We used to live in the city, but now we were out in the country, far from everything.             In order to drive my brother and I to school, which was in Dayton, my mother had to learn how to drive. She was a nervous wreck, which I could understand considering my dad’s…

[ahhrenata]

kiss kiss

[royaltea000]

Christmas fanart for a Buddhist fandom

[starry-bi-sky]

realizing i have. a lot of untapped trauma potential for clone^2 danny because i just Fully Processed Four Months Late the fact that his parents were capturing and torturing ghosts in the basement before he became Phantom. and the fact that he was on house rest for 2 weeks. during that time period. and he wasn't really leaving the house. he could hear their screaming through the floorboards

*points at clone danny* i can give you suuuuuuch a bad time babe ahaha. i've got two untouched years before you meet damian what fucks you up before then

[martianbugsbunny]

BITCH they had a WHOLE LOTTA NERVE to SPECIFICALLY HAVE STEVE SAY "bro, it's hard to date when nobody has shared life experience with u"

......IN THE MOVIE WHERE THE GUY WITH SO MANY SHARED LIFE EXPERIENCES SHOWS THE FUCK BACK UP. THE GUY WHO LIVED IN 1940S NY WITH HIM. THE GUY WHO SERVED IN WW2 WITH HIM. THE GUY WHO GOT THE SUPERSOLDIER SERUM LIKE HE DID. THE GUY WHO MANAGED TO STILL BE ALIVE AND LIKE THIRTY IN THE 2000S JUST LIKE STEVE. WHAT WERE THEY THINKING. WHY WERE THEY SO STUPID

[hauntingsunshine14]

summer olympics 2028 in a universe with no exy we have:

star gymnast neil josten

heavyweight champion andrew minyard

tennis pro kevin day

rugby goddess allison reynolds

d pole laxer matt boyd

marathon swimmer renee walker

volleyball libero aaron minyard

hockey forward dan wilds

synchronized diver nicky hemmick

[sysig]

Pretty clothes for you! ✨ (Patreon)

[abirddogmoment]

I love seeing Rory run in the field!! Bird dog doing bird dog things!! You said in the tags you had different training and priorities with her vs Mav re: offleash running like that. What kinds of things did you do differently with Rory to be comfortable having her offleash at a distance with reliable recall?

I was writing a whole novel but really it boils down to this chart. Under the cut because it's (vertically) long.

In short, it's just as much about what I didn't do with Maverick as what I did do with Aurora.

(Edited to add: I am extremely fortunate to live in the prairies where the kind of visibility I need is easy to find. Use my experience to inspire your own training if you like, but don't use it as a recipe. I have my own goals and my own priorities and those are likely different than yours.)

Maverick:

🔵 Supremely confident from day 1

🔵 Came home in August (extremely good and exciting time for outdoor adventures)

🔵 Prioritized specific sports behaviours over foundational building blocks like engagement and cooperation

🔵 Learned bad habits from my older dog at the time (prey drive > recall)

🔵 Was indiscriminately prey driven. If it moved, he wanted to kill it.

🔵 I phased out treats too fast and didn't want to use an ecollar or long line

🔵 I focused on "social media dog behaviours" (think like walking extremely close to me on trails) and got frustrated when we couldn't meet these rather than meeting my dog where he was at. This created a lot of frustration in our dog adventures.

🔵 I practiced recalls constantly when I didn't have to, making them a tedious behaviour for him. I would recall him 20-50 times a hike for everything from "you're too far away from me" to "I want to take a photo".

Aurora

🟣 Came to me a little insecure and looked to me for reassurance

🟣 Came home in December (a cold and relatively boring time for outdoor adventures)

🟣 I prioritized engagement, cooperation, and name recognition from day 1

🟣 Practiced good habits by walking offleash in the snow either alone or with Pike (amazing recall)

🟣 Is extremely birdy, but is very very focused. She easily calls off deer or people/dogs in the distance because she mostly cares about birds.

🟣 Literally always gets offered a high value snack for recalling or voluntary check ins (I will never phase this out, I will carry chunks of cheese on offleash walks for the rest of her life)

🟣 I never practice recalls if I don't need them. This one is hard to explain, but once Rory understood that long whistle = come back as fast as you can, I don't whistle unless I really need to. I recall her an average of 0-3 times per hike (*based on visibility or wildlife*) and trust her to make good decisions otherwise. I keep my eyeballs on her 100% of the time and choose areas with good visibility, but I don't recall her just for being far away.

🟣 I limit hikes where I have to nag her often (think, in the woods where I dont have a great line of sight and have to remind her to stay close to me) to a few times a month or less so she doesn't start getting frustrated about it.

🟣 I trust the training I put into her and choose to run her in areas with (relatively) reduced risk if she makes the "wrong" choice. I don't nitpick everything she does and I let her make her own choices, within reason.

🟣 I have an interrupter cue to ask her to stop doing something before I call her back (if she's digging a hole and I want her to move on, I use "Rory, enough! Here!") instead of whistling at her.

🟣 I don't force her attention on check ins. If she runs back to me and doesn't want a snack and wants to run straight back out, I let her run back out.

🟣 I have anticipatory cues for the end of a walk so I don't have to recall her when we get to the end of the field.

I want to say that it's nerve wracking to watch my dog sprint at full speed hundreds of yards away from me. I have to fight the impulse to recall her just because she's far away. It's an exercise in trust because I'm always worried about her going over the horizon, or running into a wildlife, or falling into a hole, but it's an important thing to work on if you have a dog that needs that trust to thrive.

Mav and I were a good team, but I never fully trusted him outdoors. I always had my finger on the ecollar buttons ready for him to do an evil and need to be vibrated. It was exhilarating to watch him in the field, but it wasn't really fun or relaxing.

Rory and I built a much stronger foundation of trust (I personally never would have been able to do this if I had more than one dog). She doesn't know any tricks yet, but I'm super confident in her recall and ability to take direction in the field, even when she's sprinting as fast as possible.

[mueritos]

a big brain dump about autism, life, being indigenous, and whatever else is going on

so the past few months I made it a personal journey to understand my autism more (and maybe a possible ptsd diagnosis but whatever whatever whatever). and that's what i'm calling it--the autism--because no other thing makes sense for me, and while i'm parsing through childhood memories and experiences, it's definitely...a bittersweet conclusion? bitter because in a lot of ways, i dont relate to the stereotypical autistic experience because every autistic person who has clocked me was usually a White Queer. It's probably why it's taken so long to get to this point of concluding Autism is what it is. I grew up in an immigrant family as a girl, and for that reason I was expected to not be disabled and to be a completely normal and high achieving Mexican catholic girl who went to college and became a doctor or whatever. Now i'm a fag of a man doing none of those things haha.

My older brother was supposed to be assessed for ASD in his youth, and like most immigrant dads, mine decided that nothing was wrong with him and the rest is history. Except my older brother is a man riddled with childhood trauma, shame, and so much autism. Absolutely uncharted rates of autism, and while he gets some sort of pity from my parents for him ("it's all out fault" "he never got the help he needed" "cut him some slack he doesnt understand"), I can never let my own parents know about how much I struggle. Hell, I can barely show it to my own friends because even they don't understand the extent of my autistic struggles. it's actually caused continuous miscommunications, people mad at me, me mad at myself, meltdowns, shutdowns, and a lot of crying. And shame. (a peer recently even demeaned my habit of keeping to myself, despite the fact that I had actually been trying to put myself out there more)

so i'm at a point in my life where I've accepted that I can only take responsibility over how I communicate, and I take ownership over that. Accepting this responsibility allows me to keep myself safe, as I've essentially lived over 2 decades of my life feeling like I was responsible for not just my communication, but everyone else's, including all of the judgements, missed cues, failures, miscommunications, and whatever else came from it. It's definitely double empathy. Last time I truly took on everyone's communication, it nearly killed me (cue over a year of suicidality). But, in a lot of ways it's very freeing. I'm sort of detaching myself from this neurotypical/White need to socially interact with others on their terms. In other ways, it's restricting. I uh. Don't really talk to a lot of people nowadays, and there used to be days where I wouldn't say a single word out loud. But because I don't talk to as many people, I'm able to put energy into the quality of my connections and not just the quantity. Which unfortunately a lot of people take personally. They dont like you admitting that you only see them as an acquittance, or as a classmate, or something like a friend but not quite there. I find comfort knowing how people feel about me, even if its that they actually dont feel close to me. Great! Now I know! Knowing makes me feel safe! But I'm finding that people actually really fucking hate when you admit that to them, the how you actually slot them in ur brain in terms of social levels. I can understand why, but I also don't get it.

Another thing that's helped is I've changed how I do eye contact. I used to make eye contact with professors or classmates while I spoke up in class because I thought that was important. Now I've found I can actually focus more on what I'm trying to say when I don't make eye contact. My god how freeing that has been. I don't have the same anxiety as I used to before, nor do I experience all of the involuntary blushing as I did for many years of my life. It didn't matter how confident or how prepared I felt, I would just blush furiously and I fucking hate it. Now my blushing is almost nonexistent, and I say what I mean with the flat ass tone that I love speaking in because it makes me feel safe. Sure, I miss the real-time non-verbal reactions to my words in class, but it's an okay trade-off for feeling more safe in myself and more confident in the classroom.

another thing is my internship. I work with majority neurodivergent students, and many of my clients have autism, adhd, or both, and are sometimes BIPOC, trans, or children of immigrants. Man, I've been having a blast. Sure, I'm learning how to be a therapist and best practices, but screw everyone in my life who has called me "cold" "emotionless" or "heartless". I have connected with so many people on such a human level, and I have sat there and helped them hold their pain in that tiny gay office for 45 minutes every week, and even though it's only 45 minutes, i'm showing them that they're allowed to ask for help holding that pain. I have had challenging sessions, difficult conversations, and times where I wasn't sure I would know what to say. But at it's core, I know that I'm capable of connecting with the person in front of me because my autism brain is automatically in tune with the person in front of me. It is so wonderful, and overwhelming, and so confusing all at once. When people start crying in front of me, I feel tears well up in my eyes, even if I'm not actually sad with them. It shows me that I'm capable of this empathy that so many people over my life have questioned, which they questioned all because I processed things slowly, or made quick decisions, or because I was honest about how I felt.

on to being mixed indigenous. Phew. I've been trying to build more connections with other Native folk, and I have a couple who I can thankfully call friends and who have never disrespected my detribalized experience. but recently I was interviewed a few times for a fellow indigenous researcher's dissertation, and I did not expect to be chosen on account that I am detribalized. But it had been a lovely experience and I finished my final interview today. It really left me with a lot of emotions that are hard to put into words. Mourning would be one of them, as I likely won't ever know what my tribal affiliation is. Never knowing who my people were, what language they spoke, the land they lived on...I can't describe just how much it destroys me. It feels like literal death, because that's what it is. A disgusting colonial death. And it's why I abhor that of all my identities, being autistic and being mixed indigenous has been met with the most vitriol online. like i guess people can only handle the trans fag mexican dude when hes not autistic and mixed indigenous, because now I am far too ambigious for anyone else's good. though i do know better than to listen to what random people online have to say about me and my path toward reconnection/neurodivergency.

beside's that, i'm trying to find neurodivergent spaces that feel safe, and I'm trying to find ways to keep myself safe. stimming, carrying stuffed animals around, using fidget toys, engaging in my interests, listening to the same songs, eating the same foods. I've had coffee with bagel and chive+onion cream cheese for over a year now. I've listening to almost only Pearl Jam and Alice in Chains for nearly a year now. I rewatch the same youtube videos over and over again. I wear the same few outfits. I wear the same shoes everyday. I walk the same way to and from campus everyday. I try to be in nature as much as I can, and really see it. I imagine nature where it isn't, and I get emotional thinking about the life that used to be on it. I wish so badly that I was a cat, a horse, a bunny, a deer, all so I could experience life through their eyes. i'm putting trust into people, into the universe, and into myself. safety is hard to come by, but im doing my best to accept the risks of life, trying to be flexible, and learn how to sustain myself for the good of the world. I deserve to be here too.

that's about it. besides that, i'm moving to philly once i'm done with grad school ^-^

[frennziee]

IM SCREAMING RIGHT NOW

OKAY- so im watching pd ( i just finished the last episode of season one i know im a little behind lol) and i was reading comments and i saw someone say (of course i cant find it now) that they liked that over time the logo at the start got progressively more cracked as the boys went through harder stuff. first of all I AM SO MAD I DIDNT COMPREHEND THIS AT FIRST like yeah i noticed it got more cracked but it didn’t even register that it was on purpose😭😭 but this is SO COOL OH MY GOD- i have screenshots of some of the episodes so yall can see what i mean . im going to put what episode there from under them.. my mind is blown and yall need to see this

episode 11 (the first time we see this logo i think)^^

episode 18 (quite the jump but i bet if you go back to like episode 14 it looks more cracked than 11 but less than this one)

episode 22 (we got some new cracks- i saw the one on the R first lol and that one piece from the P is going places)

EPISODE 24‼️ JUST LOOK AT IT AHHH- the colors are muted, shit flying everywhere, not to mention the music and how it was slowed and muffled a ton UAH- (it scared the shit out of me at first lol) and the episode itself?? i nearly cried lol “i would let the world burn before id watch my friends die” SHIVERS “its all right guys- i had a feeling it would go like this.. but you guys are safe.” IM CRYING. LITERALLY SOUL CRUSHING. (yakko good god my heart cannot take this please spare me) but it was SO GOOD im going nuts-o over here man-SCREAMING AND THROWING UP. Bizly props to you because it was so subtle that i almost missed it but i could FEEL it wowowowowow sooosososos good i could go on for ages-

anyway thanks to anyone who read all that - i don’t usually post stuff like this but i felt it needed to be done. double anyway have a good day to you as i go cry and hyperventilate in the corner :)) luv uuu muah kisses

[softquietsteadylove]

Red and Green

Gil is glowering. He's been glowering almost since they arrived. He's happy to help, of course. Jack is in the winter play, and since Sersi is also teaching at his school, they've all come to help out with last minute decorating and such. He's baked five sheet pans worth of goodies for the bake sale taking place before and after the play.

Thena is on stage, helping Jack and a few other kids with putting fake snow everywhere. She's not exactly taking part but she's good at keeping them from throwing it on each other or anywhere unnecessary.

That's not the problem. The teacher talking to her is the problem.

Gil doesn't know who he is. Ben says he thinks he's the gym teacher or something. Seems a little young--aren't gym teachers always old dudes who don't actually play sports? This guy is their age, visibly handsome, even from a distance.

"You're a natural with them," the tall, blonde stranger insists.

Thena shakes her head, "I couldn't disagree more. I am here for Jack and no one else. The little hellions can fend for themselves."

She says, and then still decisively stops two boys close to the stairs from seeing what the fake snow tastes like.

"Well, I think you're a natural." Who does this guy think he is? He was moving some larger stuff around with Ikaris all afternoon. Apparently until Thena caught his eye and lured him away.

Gil rolls his eyes as Mister Blondie pulls off the fleece he's been wearing. His t-shirt gets pulled up a little with it, just enough for the stage lighting to really emphasize the full, washboard eight pack of abs he's got.

Phastos clears his throat loudly in Ben's ear. "Ahe-hem, Mister Stoss."

"Habibi, please," Ben attempts to lean away from his husband. "It is not a sin to have eyes, my love."

Gil sneers to himself. Thena has eyes. And while she wasn't openly admiring like Ben had - no matter how briefly - he knows she's seen them. He just...knows it.

"Gil?" Ikaris walks over to him, tugging at his own t-shirt now that boxes are moved or sets are arranged, or whatever they've been doing. "Wanna give us a hand?"

"Who is that guy?" Gil points blatantly at the man still chatting Thena up while she's trying to keep an eye on Jack and his friends.

Ikaris looks and shrugs. "Teacher."

Gil shakes his head at him. If Ikaris weren't both Thena's brother and Sersi's husband, sometimes he really wonders how they would have become friends. "Thanks, helpful--I meant how did he and Thena get to talking. She doesn't usually talk...with people."

It's not his most subtle tactic. But Ikaris doesn't seem to pick up on his greenish aura. "I heard him ask her a little about what she used to play. Guess they're talkin' about college sports?"

Gil's discomfort only increases, though. Thena did play sports when they were younger. He didn't. And he knows that she misses how she used to play soccer in high school and even in the first year of college.

His eyes are glued to them as Thena smiles and even laughs faintly as she talks to Whats-His-Face.

"What?" Ikaris asks him outright (no tact at all).

Gil huffs, deciding he's done just watching things unfold. "I don't think you'd like it if he was chatting up your wife."

Ikaris makes a face. "I guess not. But he's not. And Thena's not your wife."

Gil doesn't have a defense to that. He storms off so Ikaris can't announce to all the auditorium volunteers how flushed he is. Instead, he hurries up the little stairs onto the stage. "Uh, hey."

Thena stops dead in her conversation to smile at him, "hey."

He has to give it to him, if Mister Golden is bothered at all by the interruption, he doesn't let it show. "Hey, thanks again for helping out. The school doesn't have much to offer for things like these. Volunteering really goes a long way for the kids."

Gil tries not to scoff at Mister Perfect's magnanimous speech. He offers a stiff smile and hovers closer to Thena. "Yeah--I need Thena's help with the bake sale stuff, if you'll excuse us."

Thena lets him grasp her hand and all but pull her away. She only lingers enough to point over her shoulder, "Jack is in charge."

The other kids whine, but he's still riding the high of having all his 'cool' aunts and uncles help.

"Oh," Mister Friendly laughs faintly with a bright smile (and perfect teeth). "Well, it's already snowing out. You should stay warm inside."

Gil bristles as Mister Flirtatious' hand comes dangerously close to touching Thena's shoulder. He pulls her closer to him.

"I can give you a hand," he offers.

Gil is now borderline tugging Thena with him. "Thanks, but I need to, uh, ask her opinion on some things."

He wants to get right in the guy's face and tell him that of course he knows it's already snowing. He's not going to let Thena get cold! He rushes off the stage with her and makes sure to grab her coat off the back of one of the chairs. Maybe it's a bit obvious, but he loudly shakes it out and holds it up for her to slide her arms into the sleeves.

Mister Sunshine just smiles and waves before going back to watching the kids.

Gil sniffs. "He's friendly."

"Quite." It doesn't tell him what he wants it to. Usually Thena isn't warm to people just coming up and talking to her.

"What were you guys talking about?" he asks, realizing it's too late for him to be asking in a fake-casual way. He shoves his hands in his pockets as they walk out of the auditorium and head outside.

"He introduced himself as the physical education teacher," she states factually, which at least isn't the smitten fondness he was dreading hearing from her after their interaction. "He told me Jack is doing exceedingly well in his activities."

Of course that was his in; Thena is a sucker for talking about Jack, in any way, shape or form.

"Phastos is insistent Jack learn American football, but my practices with him have been paying off," she states with her nose all the way in the air with pride.

Gil laughs. Thena is determined to get Jack so hooked on it that he calls it football instead of the American 'soccer'. "It is a little less physical than football."

They get outside and Gil shoves his hands deeper in his pockets. Maybe it was dumb for him to get Thena's coat for her and not go looking for his own.

"Gil, aren't you cold?" she asks outright.

"It's okay, I just need a hand with a few of the trays," he excuses with a smile, unlocking his car from where they stand.

"What did you need my opinion on?"

Oh, right, the blatant and bold faced lie he told in order to soothe his own jealousy. What was he thinking? Ikaris was right, Thena isn't his wife--she's not even his girlfriend. But that never really bothered him so much as when he saw Mister Model up there chatting her up...showing off his abs to her.

"Gil?"

"Uh, well," he hesitates to get out as they step out from the school doors' cover and into the light evening snow. "I guess...do you think what I made will sell well?"

It's lame--it's super lame, and embarrassing. It's a bit late, isn't it? He's made a full dozen of five different desserts. Wouldn't he have asked this before he got so far into the process? And she and Jack were there when he baked them at Ben and Phastos'!

"Of course they will," she answers honestly, though. He likes the blunt and earnest realism on her more than Ikaris. "Your baking is always amazing. I'm sure the school will make back the cost of the play and then some."

"If they make the 'then some' I think I should get to keep the profit," he mutters. Thena laughs at his joke, but butter is expensive, and he's made three dozen different shortbreads! "Here."

He hands Thena a tray of the frosted cookies, which have to be separate from the rest to keep their design integrity pristine. He carries the other three trays himself and closes his trunk.

"It's nice that Jack is excited about it."

Gil smiles, some of his earlier agitation melting away. Thena, for all her insistence that she didn't like anything to do with children, lives for Jack. She loves coming to his school events, helping with parent stuff. He knows she's lied at her job so she can attend every single soccer game he has, even when they're at 4 in the afternoon on a tuesday.

"I didn't expect him to be so happy to have all of us here."

"Well sure," Gil chuckles, breathing a little easier now that it's just them. "Jack thinks you're the coolest aunt in the world. He's bragging to his friends right now about how you were a pro soccer player and know how to use swords."

Thena rolls her eyes modestly. "I keep telling him it's an amateur fencing class."

Calling it amateur is a disservice; Gil has witnessed a little of it giving her a ride once, and she dominates in it.

"I hope he never gets tired of having us around for things like this," she admits to him quietly, maybe even sheepishly. "Even when he's a teenager."

Gil smiles even wider, because Thena is just so sweet and loving under her calm and placid exterior. "I'm sure he won't. At least not you--maybe Uncle Ikaris."

Thena laughs, and it shows off her teeth in a cute way.

Gil shifts his load to open the door for her. He really didn't need help with anything, but he doesn't need to confront what it means that he was so desperate to get her out here with him just yet.

"There you two are, people are starting to arrive!"

"Sorry, just had to keep 'em nice and cold y'know," Gil murmurs as Sersi rushes forward to take Thena's tray for her. He sighs but Ikaris has some decency and extends his hands. Gil lets him take the top tray from him. "Are you sure I'm supposed to have this much real estate?"

Sersi waves a hand. "I've run this bake sale the last three years. I am not exaggerating when I tell you two parents at most will actually bring enough. Everyone else just brings a store bought cookie platter and lets it suffice. They don't sell well and they just take it home with them after the play."

"Gil will put them all to shame."

He blushes at the confidence Thena has in him. "If it's to help the kids put this play on again next year, then fine."

Ben has his phone out, snapping pictures. "They're gonna knock people's socks off, Gil."

"Thanks guys," he sighs as he unwraps his trays upon trays.

"They certainly look great!"

Gil's blood pressure spikes again. He turns and someone has let the golden retriever with a whistle around his neck out of the auditorium. "Thanks."

"Jack's been bragging about how his uncle is the best cook on the planet. I hope I can snag one for myself before the play!"

He's just being friendly, but Gil can feel his veins tightening under his skin with every word out of this guy's mouth. He looks at Ben, who's all excited and bouncing with his phone up. "What?"

Ben points.

Gil looks up, as does Thena. There's a pretty half-assed sprig of mistletoe hanging from the decorative archway put up over the table. He looks around; none of the other ones have this. He's ready to tell Ben to stop messing around. But then the presence of Mister Smiley and the memory of him flirting with Thena resurfaces in Gil's mind.

Thena's eyes go wide but she doesn't move as he pulls her closer. He slides his hand up her cheek, letting his palm angle and hide where their faces make contact, and not too briefly. Her eyes flutter closed.

Everyone's jaws drop (except Ben's).

Gil pulls away. He's kissed her close enough to her mouth that it will look the part, but not actually on her lips. But far away from her cheek that it can't be misconstrued from her view. He smiles as her eyes open again and she blinks at him.

He's never seen Thena blush before.

"You know I wouldn't kiss you without asking," he whispers before pulling himself away from her. "But, uh, come find me after the play is done?"

"H-Hm," she squeaks out, taking a few stiff steps away, her heels clicking like a fawn's hooves as it learns to walk.

Gil goes back to setting up his bake sale spread, some renewed vigour swirling in his chest. He peeks up from the table. Mister Perky seems to have gotten the hint and has started directing parents with trays to take the other (smaller) tables. Gil is satisfied.

Ben loudly snaps a picture, practically giggling. "Habibti, you're as red as the tinsel."

"Stop it! And delete that!"

Gil chuckles to himself as Thena rushes back into the auditorium and away from the commotion he's just caused. He does hope she comes find him after, and not just because he's her ride home.

Ikaris gives him a strange look but Sersi rushes him inside too. She leans back into Gil's view to give him an enthusiastic thumbs up. He blushes, but if Sersi thinks it was the right move then maybe he's onto something.

Gil takes a seat, ready to start selling. He has to admit that maybe he owes it to Mister Chatty to save him a brownie or something. But only if he gets to kiss Thena again later.

[moonlight-hwa]

Got7 is single-handedly saving kpop right now

[astrum-aetherium]

i lowkey wanna ignore henry while he gives me head just to see how far he’ll go

he would grow so annoyed with it, it'd be a thrill. due to constantly being used to getting his way, the opposite scenario would irk him greatly. and thus, of course, he would resort to exaggerated, nearly desperate means.

at first, he’d think he were simply not doing his best, and therefore try to apply more pressure — stimulate your clit with his mouth even more, flick his tongue a little faster. that would go on for short while, until he’d ultimately register that you’re not exactly reacting to any of it like you usually do, either. then, he’d pull away to contemplate — and blow cool air on your clit as he does so. it’d tickle, obviously, sending a tremendous shiver folding down your spine, and yet, you’d employ your best to keep quiet and disregard it all.

of course, he’d have your little game figured out in not time. swooping in to your heated center once more, he’d press a curious kiss to your bundled sensitivity, and question — quite sweetly, “and to what do i owe this inadvertence? mmh? are my efforts insufficient for you?" his breath would fan out against your core in an electrifying manner; you’d be forced to bite down on your lip in order to suppress a moan.

having gathered a bit of composure, you’d act a fool, "what?" as a response, you’d merely receive a displeased, albeit curious flick of the eyebrow from him. this is where you’d make a mental note that communicating with henry whilst he is oh-so-conveniently situated between your legs might be the most wicked thing on earth. still, you’d brush his suspicions off, "no, not at all. keep going." a mischievous grin would appear on your face, merely posing further proof to him.

"will i receive any confirmation thereof, then?" he’d inquire sternly.

having decided to challenge him a little, you’d tangle your hand in his dark locks and tease, "just stop talking." after saying that, you’d try to nudge him back forward, and to your great surprise — he wouldn’t resist. instead, he’d let himself be urged against your center, and that’s when you’d perceive that secret catch about his uncharacteristic obedience despite being teased — he’d close his teeth in on your clit, albeit lightly. you’d immediately shriek — you wouldn’t have have expected him to bite.

“henry!”

all he’d offer you in response before delving back in and proceeding would be something along the lines of now we’re talking — an arrogant, firm expression of triumph. from then on, you’d respond to his efforts — profoundly and devotedly so.

[tindove]

Man, Simon. That seasonal depression must suck for you. That’s rough buddy. No more Holly Jolly Secrets for you.

[crossbackpoke-check]

Why I Am Not Coming In To Work Today [abridged], Jess Zimmerman

part one | part two

[malarkgirlypop]

MEDIC! Part 22 (Donald Malarkey x Fem!OC)

So one minuet I'm cackling laughing and then the next I'm blubbing like a baby. Giving myself whiplash over here! Just to be warned, I barely re-read this cause I want to get it out. So if something doesn't make sense, whoops, I will do a proof read later, I'll fix it ahaha. OMG yeah no this chapter is all over the place, my bad!

Based on the HBO show and the actors who portray the characters, no hate to anyone involved.

Tag list: @next-autopsy, @panzershrike-pretz, @xxluckystrike, @bucky32557038ww2 (let me know if you want to be tagged.)

I tossed and turned, my brain in overdrive, wouldn’t let me go to sleep. The soft snores of the men filled the room. They all instantly fell asleep as soon as they laid their head on the pillow. I was jealous, my body was exhausted but my mind was wide awake. I kept replaying the fight I had with Don. Then how he was in the kitchen. Like he wasn’t upset by it, maybe he wasn’t. I rolled over trying to get comfortable but nothing worked. I reached down grabbing my canteen from beside my bed. I unscrewed the lip, tipping it back. No water entered my mouth, I shook it over my face. It was empty. I huffed. There was a water supply downstairs. 

I pulled back my covers moving very slowly. I didn’t want to wake the men, knowing they needed their rest for the patrol. I placed my feet down on the floor, it was cold but I didn’t want to put on my boots. I would be down and back in seconds there was no need. I got off the bed, wincing at every creak and squeak from the mattress and the floor. I tip-toed slowly out of the room pausing every time I heard a noise. I could briefly make out shapes in the dark, the large holes in the wall providing some luminance from the moonlight.

I snuck down the stairs, cringing with every creak they made underfoot. I made it to the third step from the top, stepping down on my toes, when my ankle gave way underneath me. I flailed my arms trying to reach for something to grab onto but the steps didn’t have a handrail. I tipped forward, my body careening down the stairs. I seemed to hit every single step on the way down. I winced, but not from the pain, from the amount of noise my body made as it bounced down the stairs. So much for being quiet. I barrel rolled down the steps, landing in a heap at the bottom. I lay still, panting from the fall. Maybe if i just didn’t move no one would notice. I wasn’t in pain, probably from the adrenaline that was now coursing through my veins, yeah that’s going to help me get to sleep. I heard movements from upstairs. 

“What was that?” 

“Was that a bomb?” 

“What was that noise?” I heard the men upstairs whispering to each other, trying to figure out what all the crashing was from. 

“Who’s there?” Even though I was laying on my front sprawled out with my hair covering my face, I could see the shine from the flashlight land on me.  

“It’s Emily.” I said weakly, raising my hand over my head. “I fell.” 

The sound of footsteps sounded coming down the stairs. Babe was at my side in seconds. 

“Jesus, of course it was you who fell down the stairs.” Babe chuckled. I groaned. “Sorry, are you ok?” He asked, I gave him a weak thumbs up. “Come on, let’s get you up.”

I got to my hands and knees, my head spinning slightly. Babe grabbed my hands pulling me to stand. I winced in pain, oh no there it is. My whole body screamed in agnoy, especially my back which took the brunt of the fall. I clung onto Babe’s shoulder’s. As he helped me back up the stairs again, the rest of the men waited at the top, some of which had gotten back into their beds. 

“Can we take you anywhere?” Grant asked with a playful smile. 

“I’m sorry, I was trying to be quiet.” I felt so bad for waking them all. 

“Are you ok though?” Joe asked from his bed. I gave a nod as Babe gently placed me back onto the bunk, lifting my legs for me to swing into bed. I wasn’t that injured but he had done it before I could say anything. I let him tuck me back in. 

“You’re such a goose.” Babe said to me before climbing back into his own bed. Everyone fell asleep quickly including myself. 

—----------------

I was up with the men as they prepared to leave on the patrol. I gave a hug to Babe and Grant who left with the men. All we could do was wait. We made our way into the basement, where the men would bring the prisoner if it was a success.      

The sounds of footsteps clunked into the room, surely they weren’t back yet? Cobb, Skinny and Garcia walked in dripping wet. 

“What the hell happened?” I asked, standing from my seat, making my way over to the shivering men. 

“We took a dip.” Cobb said sarcastically. I moved forward to the men who stood in front of me. 

“Here, take off those clothes before you catch your death. Can we get some blankets and dry clothes over here!” I called helping Skinny pull off his jacket since his hands were shaking so badly. I ensured the other men took off their wet clothes as well. Once they were in dry clothes I draped them in blankets and put them by the fire. Skinny was still shivering, I passed him the warm coffee I had made for him.  

Then it was a waiting game again. Everyone else was out to help with covering fire. The men who had fallen into the water and I waited in the basement. I could hear distant gunfire and explosions. I could hear the sound of the whistles being blown, they were on their way back. I paced around the room, anxious to see how it went. I flinched with every explosion, come on why aren’t they back yet.       

The door burst open as the men poured in, “We got wounded. Come on!” They carried in the soldier. It was chaos, the men shouting orders, the gunfire that continued outside, the bustle of people that made their way in. The once empty room filled with four people was now teeming with life and noise. 

I made room on the table, instructing them to lay down the wounded man. It was Jackson. His face was badly injured as well as his upper torso. He gasped for breaths as he shook in pain. His face was burnt and disfigured. 

“It was his own grenade, he ran in too early.” One of the men told me. 

“Hold him down.” I yelled at the soldiers as Jackson squirmed around, making it harder for me to see. I pulled out my flashlight, opening his mouth. The inside of his throat was burnt. Shit. This wasn’t good. We were losing his airway every second, as it swelled shut. I needed an Oropharyngeal, but I didn’t have one, no one did. 

“Does anyone have a tube?” I asked, looking around at the men, they shook their heads. I tilted Jackson's head back trying to open his airway as best I could. But it would be no use in a matter of minutes when it swelled shut. 

“Does anyone have a pen?” More shaking heads. God fucking dammit. I wanted to try and do a tracheostomy, if I had a scalpel and a tube or even a pen I could create a new airway. But I had nothing in the way that I could perform the procedure. I flicked my eyes to Jackson, as he tried to fight, sitting up and moving. He was panicking, he was losing his breath faster, gasping and choking. 

“Jackson, lie still, don’t panic.” I tried to reassure him, but with each gasp he took, less air was entering his lungs. He was slowly suffocating. I didn’t have anything with me, no intubation kit, no scapula, no pen. I couldn’t keep his airway open. He was going to die if I did nothing. I could save him but I don’t have anything, I have no supplies. 

“Gene, do you have anything to intubate with, a pen, anything?” I asked as he rushed into the room. I watched him scavenge through his bag, he shook his head. 

“We need to move him, I don’t have the supplies to keep his airway open!” I told him. He nodded. 

“Let’s get him moving.” Gene called, the men helping him onto the stretcher.

“I don’t wanna die, I don’t wanna die.” He cried as he gurgled on his saliva. I held his hand as he was transferred. He looked right at me, “Don’t let me die.” I shook my head. “I won’t!” We moved him off the table. A bomb shook the house, making all of us duck, the men laying him on the floor on the stretcher. I kept his head tilted back as he choked on his blood and spit. I could hear him struggling to draw his breath. He writhed around gasping for air that wasn’t making it into his lungs. 

“Jackson! Jackson! Please, you have to hold on, please!” I begged trying to keep his airway open. He coughed, blood splattering out of his mouth and onto my face and clothes. He stilled. 

“No! No!” I said bending down pressing my mouth on his as I gave him rescue breaths. I could taste his blood in my mouth as I pulled back. I bent down again giving him two more, I blew into his mouth, turning my head to look at his chest. I waited for his chest to rise and fall, the feeling of his exhale on my cheek, listening intently for the sound of him taking a gulp of air. But I didn’t, his chest didn’t move, I didn’t feel anything on my cheek or the sounds of him breathing again. He was still. I hovered over his face, staring down into his now dull eyes. I pulled back, resting on my haunches, I looked around the room. Babe's eyes found mine, he shook his head in disbelief. Surely he didn’t lose another friend, another brother. The sad look in my eyes said it all. He had. We all had. 

I was so mad, I could’ve saved him, if I just had the supplies, anything, I could have sent this young man back to his family. 

I wiped my mouth that was covered in his blood. Martin approached, laying a blanket over the man, no boy. He was just a boy. 

The room that was once overbearing with noise, fell eerily silent. I hastily wiped the tears from my cheeks. I moved from my position walking over to Babe. I wrapped him in my embrace as he clung to me burying his head in my shoulder. 

I don’t think we slept the rest of the night. We made our way back to base, but we all stayed up. I sat in the middle of my bunk as Babe laid down smoking, resting his legs on my lap. I leaned back into the wall, still covered in the blood that wasn’t mine. Jones and Webster made their way back from dropping off the POW’s, wandering back into the room. 

“We heard you got two prisoners. Good work.” Don complimented Jones.

“Jackson’s dead.” Webster announced. Don and Lieb who hadn’t been there nodded, already hearing it from us when we got back. 

“Yeah, we heard.” Lieb said, laying on the top bunk behind Don.

“Yeah, well, they want another patrol tonight.” Perconte informed the men who had just joined us. When we had heard there was going to be another one, we were less than enthused, just because it went to plan didn’t mean we lost nothing. We lost a life. Why risk losing more? Why did they need more prisoners? The Germans were falling apart anyway. It felt like a waste to go over again. A risk we didn’t want to take. Just because it was a ‘success’ this time, didn’t mean the next one was going to be. What if we sent 15 men over there just to be killed. It was infuriating. I knew how this was going to end, hell it was all I learnt in history class. I knew that the Germans lost, and it was closer than they knew. I couldn’t blurt that to them, they would think I was crazy, or a spy. I wanted to shake Colonel Sink, tell him it wasn’t worth it. That these men were more precious than the German POW's they wanted so badly. Couldn’t he see that these men needed to be preserved. I huffed, patting Babe’s leg. He glanced over to smile at me. A small smile but it meant the world, I returned it. 

The men prepared nonetheless. Waiting in the same basement from last night. It felt tainted in that kitchen now. It wasn’t the same warm atmosphere it held before. Everything had been cleaned and organised but the feel of the room was heavy.      

I sat looking over the things in my medic bag. I wish I had more in it. It was almost barren apart from a couple of bandages, sulphur and medication. The rest of my bag was my personal items. I thumbed over them. The dress from Renee, a stone I had taken from the woods in Bastogne, the gloves I had had in my pockets the day I had arrived, the hand sanitizer bottle that was now empty, my wallet, my phone and headphones. It was bizarre to have those things in this time. These men had no idea who I really was. They believed I was a young girl from Boston who came over to help the injured and dying men. When in reality I had messed with someone much bigger than myself and got stuck. If I go home, or when I go home, these men will have passed. After I leave I will never get to see them again. I looked around at the group, they all looked weary and tired. Yawning as they cleaned their equipment. I glanced over to Cobb who stood in the doorway, raising a bottle to his lips and throwing back the drink. He swayed on his feet. He was clearly drunk. I shook my head. 

“Whatcha you looking at, Webster?” I heard him slur. I glanced up, Webster’s eyes trained on the inebriated man. Awkwardly glancing away after he had been called out by Cobb. 

“Yeah, that’s what I thought, college boy.” He taunted the man. I huffed, annoyed at his loud obnoxious voice. Everyone else was doing as they were asked, sure they weren’t thrilled but they never fussed. Cobb on the other hand had to be dragged to do everything and somehow managed to weasel his way out of it all. Moaning and groaning about doing the least amount possible. 

“Are you drunk, trooper?” Jones swivelled in his chair to face the drunkard. 

“Leave me alone.” Cobb snapped. But Jones didn’t flinch to his bitterness. 

“Answer the question.” Jones said again, tone more firm. The young boy who had wandered into CP yesterday was gone, he seemed more confident in his role. It fit him nicely. 

“Yes, sir. I am drunk, sir.” Cobb muttered. “Drunk, sick and tired of fucking patrols and taking orders.” He droned on. 

“Hey Cobb, shut up. It’s boring, okay?” Martin told the man. I hid my smile. It was nice to see him being put in his place. And Martin did give the best tellings off. 

“Taking his side, Johnny?” Cobb asked, looking butthurt. 

“Yeah, I am.” Martin said, turning away from him. We stayed in the basement preparing, waiting for our orders. 

I spoke quietly with Grant, Babe and Lieb who I was sitting with as they cleaned their guns. No one raised their voices over a hushed whisper. The tension in the room was solemn. 

“Do I need to do something about the situation?” Lieb whispered to me leaning closer so I could hear him. We hadn’t been talking before just sitting in silence. 

“What?” I asked confused, as the man had started talking like we were in the middle of a conversation that didn’t exist. 

“You and Malarkey.” He stated. 

“It’s fine Joe.” I shook my head, looking down at the floor. 

“Well it clearly isn’t, I can see that you’re upset. He also hasn’t spoken to you in days. Do I need to talk to him?” He asked concerned, ducking his head down to make eye contact with me. 

“What happened? This isn’t like you two.” I chuckled, when did he become so observant of me. 

“I have it sorted, I’m waiting for him to apologise.” I said. 

“Why does he have to apologise? What did he say?” He questioned me, the interrogator in him coming out.

“He just said that he didn’t have time for me, that he was busy.” I intentionally left out the part where he said he was my babysitter. I knew if I told that to Joe, he would try and fight Don.

“He’d better do it fast.” Lieb’s eyes falling on the man sitting across the room. He looked distant, staring off into space. 

“It’s fine Joe, plenty of other fish in the sea right?” I stated, trying to play off the hurt in my chest. Of course it wasn’t as simple as finding someone else, I didn’t want anyone else. But I didn’t want to fool myself into thinking he would do what I wanted him to do. Who knows he might be already done with me, before anything started. If there was nothing there like he said, he could be perfectly fine. He is just mourning his friends, nothing else. 

Joe gave me a sad smile, clearly not believing the front I had put up. His hand landed on my thigh and gave it a squeeze. I smiled, leaning into him. I rested my head on his shoulder as he lent his head on mine. We stayed like that for a while, not speaking, just resting. It was comforting. He was the older brother I never had. I didn’t think I would be able to smile again after losing Skip and Alex. I adored the two men. They had become my family. After I had lost them, I didn’t think I could trust and love someone as much as I did those two men. But somehow after the haze of it all, Joe waited for me. We were friendly, but never close before. Then suddenly he was everywhere I turned, with his charming smirk and witty banter. Same for Babe and Grant. They were just there when I needed them. They just took me in. I think that Alex and Skip had sent them somehow. I missed them so dearly. 

Grief was a weird emotion. I had experienced it many times before, but it was never the same. With my Nana, I was sad, but I was grateful, she was old and ready to go. I always thought of her fondly, never plagued too much by her passing. 

My mother on the other hand was a weight pulling me to the bottom of the sea. The heaviness of my grief was crushing. It was one thing to lose a parent, but to a disease where you had to watch them die slowly, knowing their fate, but secretly hoping for their survival. She was all I had left. I never fully am free of the sadness of her passing. 

Then here, losing lives everyday was hard, but it was manageable. Most of the men I didn’t know personally, I wasn’t tied to them. I felt sad for their death but was able to move forward. If I didn’t think of them too hard or how I had lost them, I was fine. 

With Alex and Skip it came in waves. The first a tidal wave, threatening to pull me down to the ocean floor just like with my mother. But I was dragged from the water, thrown a life saver. I had support. I would float on the top of the water, everything fine, happy and normal. Then every so often I would sink under the surface. The weight returned. It would hurt all over again, like a fresh wound. Just like lying in water, I would sink and float. Sometimes the sea was rougher than normal, or it was calm and tranquil. But just like the ocean it was unpredictable. 

I missed them all so much. 

“!0-hut!” Martin called. I stood quickly, focusing on the world around me again. I didn’t know how much time had passed, being so deep in thought.      

Winters, Nixon, and Speirs walked into the room. “At ease.” We all relax at Winters command. 

“This everybody Grant?” Winters asked.

“Sir.” Grant confirmed. 

Winters spoke to the men, telling them he was proud. My eyes wandered over to Nixon who hung in the archway. I smiled at him as he sent me a wink. I didn’t miss the exhaustion that lingered on his face. He motioned for me to pay attention, still smiling. I looked back at Winters who was telling the men there was another patrol set for tonight. Many heads hung low. Winters explained the plan, noting that not much was changing, other than the men would need to go further into town. More risk. I sighed, my leg bouncing nervously. Babe’s hand stilled my movements, he left his hand there. 

“It will be 0200 hours instead of 0100. Is that clear?” Winters asked, the men confirming. “Good. Because, uh, I want you all to get a full night’s sleep tonight. Which means in the morning you will report to me that you made it across the river into German lines but were unable to secure any live prisoners.” Winters paused as his words sunk in. He was going to lie. The men weren’t going to have to go on the patrol after all. I grabbed Babe’s hand under the table, squeezing it tightly. I channelled all of my relief into our clasped hands so that I wouldn’t whoop and yell. Babe held my hand as tightly as I did his. 

“Understand?” Winters asked the men, his eyes flitting around the room. The tension in the room had evaporated immediately, like a weight being lifted off our shoulders. 

“Yes, sir!” The soldiers said in unison. 

“Good, look sharp for tomorrow. We’re moving off the line.” He told the men as he gathered his supplies and left. I could’ve fallen out of my seat. OFF THE LINE! OFF THE LINE! 

“Did I fucking hear that right?” Lieb turned and asked me. I shook my head in disbelief. A smile pulling at my lips. 

“We’re moving off the line.” I uttered, Lieb and Babe grinning at me.

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Chapter 23