#I just like to hurt my feelings

[malarkgirlypop]

MEDIC! Part 14 (Donald Malarkey x Fem!OC)

I am so sorry.

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

“Jesus Christ.” I muttered as we finally arrived back at our old site. The jovial banter had quickly died after we returned. I looked around, the tall trees that once loomed over the foxholes, now stood splintered in half, branches and limbs of the pine trees laid scattered all over the ground. Now I understand the saying, ‘looks like a bombs gone off’, the place was a whole mess. 

“Well at least it will make it easier to build up the covers on the foxholes.” Skip mused, kicking the debris as we walked. I hummed in agreement. 

We were back looking out across the field at Foy. The thought of the enemy only being so far away sent shivers up my spine. You could see them moving around like little ants, scurrying from one house to the other. They were getting ready. Did they know we had moved back in? I had hoped not. Maybe they could leave us in peace for a while, and make it easy. But who was I kidding, this was not going to be easy in the slightest, taking hold of Foy was going to be a mission. An even harder mission at that with stupid Dike leading us. God if anything happens please let Dike be injured. It was cruel of me to think that, but I needed my boys alive. 

I drag tree limbs back to the foxhole we had claimed, throwing them down onto the front of the hole. I roll my aching shoulders, wiping the sweat from my brow. Don comes up from behind me throwing more branches down onto the pile. 

“What, are you tired?” He teases, as I stretch my arms. I crack my knuckles on each hand in response. “Oh, ew!” He cringes at the noise. 

“Oh you’re gonna love this then. Listen.” Even though he hates the sound he pauses and listens. I twist my back, keeping my feet in place, the joints popping up my spine. 

“Oh, Em what is wrong with you?” Don crinkles up his nose in disgust at the noise. I laugh. 

“I’m creaky!” I shrug, still smiling at him. 

“Creepy more like.” Don pokes me in the stomach, I fend him off, pretending to be offended. 

“Alright lover birds get a room.” Skip says as he approaches, dragging more sticks for us to put on the cover.  

“We do! We just have to share it with two wombles!” Don and I turn our assault onto Skip, poking him in the sides. He yelps trying to get away, Don and I cackle mischievously. Alex comes up seeing the chaos and decides to join in, attacking Skip as well. Skip falls to the floor, red in the face and out of breath. We finally let him go, stepping back to enjoy our handiwork. 

“Ok, note to self, don’t pick on Em and Don when they are together.” We chuckle as Don pulls him back to his feet. We get back to our task of getting more branches to build up the foxholes.       

I walk slowly back to the hole, trying my best not to fall over, I can’t see due to the high stack of sticks that Alex had placed in my arms. When a faint boom sounds from behind me, then another and another. My mind is slow to process the noise as I walk. It’s not until Lip screams that my brain finally clicks. I drop my sticks, frantically looking for the closest foxhole to shelter in, before the inevitable happens. Before I can find a foxhole the first shell hits. My adrenaline is already coursing through my veins, I can hear my heartbeat in my ears, along with the yells of the men calling to take cover. The shell rocks the earth beneath my feet, I stumble moving forward. My eyes dart around looking for somewhere to hide. 

“EM!” I hear over the explosions, I look around. Don’s head pokes out of a hole, his face urging me to get a move on. I sprint towards it, diving in. We curl into tight balls, protecting our heads and necks as shells rain down around us. Dirt and debris spray over us with each hit. Even with all the noise my ears still listen for anyone calling for a medic. The heat from the shells were intense, the blow of hot air on our skin wasn’t a welcome feeling even in the cold. The shelling stopped just as abruptly as it had started. We unfurled ourselves from tight holds, peeking our heads over the sides of the hole to assess the scene in front of us. I didn’t even notice until it had stopped that Bill was in the same hole as Malarkey and I. From the deafening booms to the eerie silence afterwards it put me on edge. I was waiting for a call to go and help. I strained my ears listening, but they still rang from the events prior. 

“Maybe we should see if anybody’s hit.” Don said. 

“Yeah, Malark, that’s what they want.” Bill replied back, affirming it wasn’t a good idea to leave the holes we sheltered in just yet. “The Krauts are trying to draw us out in the open.” 

We waited and listened. But it was still. We couldn’t see much in front of us either, the smoke from the shells still hadn’t cleared, giving us poor visibility.

“I need help!” The shout was distant, but the three of us in the hole turned our heads in the direction the voice came from. 

“You hear that?” Don asked. I nodded, not taking my eyes off the place where I heard the voice. The cries growing louder. 

“Is that Joe?” Bill asked, we listened again to the voice. 

“Yeah, I think that’s Joe.” Don confirmed. I moved to get out, but Bill and Malarkey quickly stopped me.     

“Bill, he needs help!” I looked at the man, he had a firmer grip on me than Don. 

“Stay!” He ordered, getting out of the hole himself. 

“But Bill!” I protested, he turned around shaking his head. I huffed. My stomach churned, I chewed on the inside of my lip, trying to see where Bill went.        

My heart lurched into my throat when I heard the sound of more shells being fired. 

“Bill’s still out there.” I yelled at Malarkey, who pulled me down further into the foxhole. I hadn’t realised it but I had stood up when I heard the noise, straining my eyes to see if I could spot the pair. 

“Get down!” Don and I lay on the floor of the hole. I flinched with each boom. Tears welled in my eyes. Please be safe. I chanted in my head.

“MEDIC!” I was quick to my feet, scrambling out of the hole. But Don was faster, grabbing me by my waist and throwing me back into the hole. 

“They need help!” We yelled at the same time. “Are you crazy Em!”  

Shells still blasted around us. I was begging them to stop, so I could go to the men who needed help. I needed to find Bill and Joe and make sure they were ok. It ceased finally. 

“MEDIC!” I looked at Don, ensuring he wasn’t going to drag me back in the hole again this time. He nodded, letting me know he was ok with me leaving. I was up on my feet in seconds, sprinting through the forest, leaping over fallen trees. 

I got to the scene first. I was horrified. Both Bill and Joe lay on the ground surrounded in blood. But they were still breathing. I took in each man, assessing their injuries. Joe’s leg was gone from the knee down, while Bill’s leg barely clung on by muscles and tendons. 

“GENE!” I screamed for the other medic, I needed all the help I could get. Gene was quick to arrive, crouching down by my side as I tourniqueted Joe’s leg. I have given him a syrette of morphine but he still grimaced in pain while I was helping him. I let Gene take over from me, moving to help Bill. I also gave him morphine for the pain. He put on a brave face. I cut the blood flow off from his wounded leg, I don’t think we will be able to save it in its condition. I would rather him lose the leg than bleed out on me. 

“Doc what can I do?” I heard Don say from behind me, as he helped Gene. Joe was groaning in pain. I turned my attention back onto Bill. 

“How’s the pain?” I asked, looking over his body for any other injuries. 

“Fine Em.” He gritted through his teeth, always so stubborn Bill, he didn’t want to admit he was in pain.  

“Bill, you’re going first ok.” I said as the men arrived with the stretcher to take him back to the aid station. 

“Whatever you say, Darling.” Bill gave me a tight lipped smile. 

The men moved him onto the stretcher, Bill crying out in agony as they did so. I winced at the noise. 

“Don’t look so worried Emmy.” Bill reached out brushing his hand over my face, smoothing out the creases of concern between my brows. I took his hand in mine, giving it a squeeze, letting him go as the men carried him away. 

“Hey, Joe, I told you I’d beat you back to the states.” Bill says as he is carted away. I help Gene with Joe’s leg as we wait for the other medics to come and retrieve him. I pack the stump of his leg with dressings before covering it. Don sits with him holding his hand, as we work.  

I hear the conversation between Luz and Lip. Lipton asks about Buck. He didn’t look in good shape when I had arrived, he had seen the whole thing. He looked distraught. As soon as he saw me and knew that the men were being treated he left. He didn’t utter a word to me, or offer to help. It was like he was sleepwalking as he trudged away. I hadn’t seen him since. So to hear Luz tell Lip that he was fine, I didn’t believe him. My mind went back to the conversation that Babe and Bill had prior about the Lieutenant, Babe was right he was wound up like a spring waiting to explode. I’m sure what he had witnessed sent him over the edge. Buck was indeed not fine. I glanced over my shoulder. I could make him out, sitting on a fallen tree, head in his hands. He looked broken.  

The other men arrive soon after with another stretcher to take Joe away. They took Buck with them as well. We had said he needed to go back to the aid station due to a bad case of trench foot. But we all knew the man had reached his breaking point, war was no good for him anymore. It would kill him to stay, we knew that. No one said anything, but we knew. Don often went to the aid station to visit him, when he would come back he looked defeated. He told me that Buck wasn’t the same, he didn’t want his letters read to him, he didn’t say anything, just lay in his bed looking up at the roof. Don tried his best to help and care for his friend, but he was too far gone. The best thing for Buck Comptant was to go home and be with his family. Away from the horrors of war. But it was a hard thing to escape once it was etched into your mind. I just wished for the best for the kind man. I hoped that going home he would be able to recover again to the best of his ability.       

We huddle round in a circle as George tells his stories. One of the best parts of the night, listening to the outlandish stories from Luz. 

“You fellas know I got no reason to  bullshit you, right?” Luz says, as we chuckle. 

“Yeah, right.” Skip says sarcastically, as we all chuckle. 

“Look, I’m not gonna bullshit you. This is what I saw. It was so unbelievable, you might not believe me. So you-know-who comes running up to Lipton. He’s got no helmet, no gear, no nothing.” Luz tells us. “Ah, 1st Sergeant Lipton, you organise things here, and I’m gonna go for…help.” Luz mimics Dike’s voice. We all laugh. I’m shocked but not surprised. Of course he would fucking dip when we were getting hit. God help us for when we have to go into Foy. “I need to go polish my oak leaf clusters.” I was never not impressed with George’s talent to mimic people, he’s so good at it. I hear someone clearing their throat, we all straighten as we look behind George to find Lip. Like being caught by a teacher doing something naughty. We all know that Lip doesn’t like us to bad mouth Dike, he says it brings down morale and it’s not helpful. It’s true but you gotta rant sometimes especially about Dike. I grin at the man as he gets called away by Lip. 

“Alright fellas, Em.” Luz looks sheepish as he turns to go talk to Lip. 

“Goodnight, goodnight all.” Don says as he makes his way back to the foxhole to get some shut eye.

"Night fellas. Night Em." Skip says to me as Alex and Skip leave to their own hole.

"Night you two, see you in the morning." I grin at the pair as they wave goodbye.

I stayed back, wanting to talk to Lip after he had spoken to Luz.

“I’ll meet you back at the hole.” I tell Don, he nods leaving me by myself. I watch Luz and Lip walk away from each other. I say goodnight to George as he passes me. I follow after Lip, I walk about two steps before I am knocked off my feet. I fall back onto the snow, dazed by the blast. The trees around me explode with a blinding light. I get to my feet. Only to fall again. I crawl forward as the shells explode around me, Skip and Penkala are just ahead yelling at me to move faster to get to them. I shuffle forward, every time I stand another shell hits the ground near me knocking me off balance. Everything moves in slow motion, I look to the boys who scream for me, ushering me forward with their arms. I am almost there, almost safe in their foxhole. A blinding light hits their hole, the boys basically disintegrate in front of my eyes. A gasp leaves my lips, before my brain can process what I just witnessed. The hole, now a crater, is empty and the men residing in it have disappeared. A strangled scream leaves my lips. I sob. I cry out in agony. Tears blurring my vision. I can’t stop screaming. My blood curdling screams fill the air along with the deafening blows. I lie in the snow, shells still hitting the floor I lay on, as I howl, I can barely breath. I have to get up. I force myself to stand, tears streaming down my face. I run, I don’t even know where I am going. I get up, I fall again. I crash to the ground in front of a foxhole watching the soldier stand. It's Lipton, he grabs me by my clothes hauling me into the hole with him. I can’t stop sobbing. I bawl as Lipton holds me to him. 

“Muck and Penkala!” I cry, “They’re gone!” My brain can’t even function or process what I have seen.  

A shell hits close by the blast hitting us and sending shrapnel flying in our direction as we grunt bracing the impact. Lipton groans out in pain. We cover our heads as we sit in the hole, when the shells sound less we lift our heads. A bomb lands beside us, I gasp, waiting to be blown to pieces, but it never comes. The shell lying beside us doesn’t go off. I feel like I am going to throw up. I pull out the cigarette that Malarkey gave me earlier when I had beaten him in cards, lighting it. I inhale the foul tasting smoke letting it burn my throat and lungs, Lipton takes the smoke off me inhaling deeply as well, “I thought you didn’t smoke?” I say to Lip. 

“I don’t, but I could say the same for you.” He looks over at my tear streaked face, I take a shaky breath as Lip slowly puffs on the cigarette.

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

Chapter 15

[inkskinned]

she's singing in another room and my dog is asleep at my feet. my grandma asked me why i haven't found a man yet and i laughed. oh, you know. i like my house clean.

my girlfriend is also my man is also "my partner" if i'm in a professional setting. yesterday we went to a ren faire and a man mimed at me - you're together? and at my delighted nod, his baffled, you're gay? made me laugh. a woman with rainbow hair said i love the two of you together. you're both so beautiful it's absurd.

my dad introduced my partner as my "..... friend. or whatever" the other day. he knows we're dating. in the same way, i was never able to get my sister's husband to stop saying that's gay like it's 2008. he still uses the word fa***t, and my sister's defense of him has always been well, he's just kidding.

my lover and i dance to old music in a tiny kitchen. we judge new music together and take food critique very seriously. we watch love is blind before we fall asleep and agree that if they had a queer season, it would be bloody but also make for excellent tv. of fucking course queer people would know someone for only 2 weeks and agree to get married. what are you saying.

at a bar with friends, a man puts his hand on my wrist. got a boyfriend? and yes, i do have a boyfriend, she's amazing. i am texting her while i wander around a gas station named after geese. i am visiting a swing state for a wedding. in the candy aisle i overhear: she's actually like a lesbian it's disgusting. two teenage girls with packaged sandwiches in their hands, giggling. no literally, like. i'm not, like. okay with her being there while we're all, like, naked and changing.

my girlfriend and i tailgate, drink gin and cider out of cups. from the frat group beside us, a man corrects himself with one of his friends: bro, i mean, nonbinary entity, and it makes everyone around him laugh, myself included. he razzes his friend the same way i would have killed for at 19 years old - like nothing happened, he continues: you apply sunscreen like an alien. he does a little sassy (and fairly accurate) dance interpretation of the motion. his friend is laughing so hard they're crying.

i am lucky, i live in a safe neighborhood in a safe state. my masc passenger princess comes up from DC. i drive her for an hour to where all the leaves are a violent arrangement of color. we walk along the trails, letting autumn into our blood. in this part of the state, there's a lot of pickup trucks and trump signs. when we chastely kiss before getting into the car, i accidentally make eye contact with a woman holding her child's wrist. she looks disgusted. she looks fucking pissed.

two hours later my girl and i are eating dinner on a patio, soaking in the last warmth of new england sun before the chill of winter sets in. we are giggling and trying to talk through plastic vampire teeth. at another table, i see a young woman sit up straighter. i watch her watch us. she blushes and takes her partner's hand from across the table. shy, like the taste of evening has just become something deeper.

it's worth it for this moment, i think. my lover is still humming the same song she's been singing for four days straight and i don't want to kill her for it. her guitar is beside my bed. her toothbrush is in my bathroom. in a few moments i will make us lunch. we are lucky enough to have found each other. it is lucky enough to be in love.

[hinamie]

to moving forward

[valtsv]

this is entirely petty and personal but i cannot stand the word "whump" it's like unalive to me. just say you enjoy torturing your favourite character so that you can nurse them back to health again like a sickly baby bird they're not real it's okay.

[akanemnon]

I don't like this place. It's turning everyone edgy and sad.

FIRST - PREVIOUS - NEXT

MASTERPOST (for the full series / FAQ / reference sheets)

[giantkillerjack]

Today my therapist introduced me to a concept surrounding disability that she called "hLep".

[plain-text version of this post can be found under the cut]

Which is when you - in this case, you are a disabled person - ask someone for help ("I can't drink almond milk so can you get me some whole milk?", or "Please call Donna and ask her to pick up the car for me."), and they say yes, and then they do something that is not what you asked for but is what they think you should have asked for ("I know you said you wanted whole, but I got you skim milk because it's better for you!", "I didn't want to ruin Donna's day by asking her that, so I spent your money on an expensive towing service!") And then if you get annoyed at them for ignoring what you actually asked for - and often it has already happened repeatedly - they get angry because they "were just helping you! You should be grateful!!"

And my therapist pointed out that this is not "help", it's "hLep".

Sure, it looks like help; it kind of sounds like help too; and if it was adjusted just a little bit, it could be help. But it's not help. It's hLep.

At its best, it is patronizing and makes a person feel unvalued and un-listened-to. Always, it reinforces the false idea that disabled people can't be trusted with our own care. And at its worst, it results in disabled people losing our freedom and control over our lives, and also being unable to actually access what we need to survive.

So please, when a disabled person asks you for help on something, don't be a hLeper, be a helper! In other words: they know better than you what they need, and the best way you can honor the trust they've put in you is to believe that!

Also, I want to be very clear that the "getting angry at a disabled person's attempts to point out harmful behavior" part of this makes the whole thing WAY worse. Like it'd be one thing if my roommate bought me some passive-aggressive skim milk, but then they heard what I had to say, and they apologized and did better in the future - our relationship could bounce back from that. But it is very much another thing to have a crying shouting match with someone who is furious at you for saying something they did was ableist. Like, Christ, Jessica, remind me to never ask for your support ever again! You make me feel like if I asked you to call 911, you'd order a pizza because you know I'll feel better once I eat something!!

Edit: crediting my therapist by name with her permission - this term was coined by Nahime Aguirre Mtanous!

Edit again: I made an optional follow-up to this post after seeing the responses. Might help somebody. CW for me frankly talking about how dangerous hLep really is.

Plain-text version:

Today my therapist introduced me to a concept surrounding disability that she called "hLep".

Which is when you - in this case, you are a disabled person - ask someone for help ("I can't drink almond milk so can you get me some whole milk?", or "Please call Donna and ask her to pick up the car for me."), and they say yes, and then they do something that is not what you asked for but is what they think you should have asked for ("I know you said you wanted whole, but I got you skim milk because it's better for you!", "I didn't want to ruin Donna's day by asking her that, so I spent your money on an expensive towing service!") And then if you get annoyed at them for ignoring what you actually asked for - and often it has already happened repeatedly - they get angry because they "were just helping you! You should be grateful!!"

And my therapist pointed out that this is not "help", it's "hLep".

Sure, it looks like help; it kind of sounds like help too; and if it was adjusted just a little bit, it could be help. But it's not help. It's hLep.

At its best, it is patronizing and makes a person feel unvalued and un-listened-to. Always, it reinforces the false idea that disabled people can't be trusted with our own care. And at its worst, it results in disabled people losing our freedom and control over our lives, and also being unable to actually access what we need to survive.

So please, when a disabled person asks you for help on something, don't be a hLeper, be a helper! In other words: they know better than you what they need, and the best way you can honor the trust they've put in you is to believe that!

P.S. Also, I want to be very clear that the "getting angry at a disabled person's attempts to point out harmful behavior" part of this makes the whole thing WAY worse. Like it'd be one thing if my roommate bought me some passive-aggressive skim milk, but then they heard what I had to say, and they apologized and did better in the future - our relationship could bounce back from that. But it is very much another thing to have a crying shouting match with someone who is furious at you for saying something they did was ableist. Like, Christ, Jessica, remind me to never ask for your support ever again! You make me feel like if I asked you to call 911, you'd order a pizza because you know I'll feel better once I eat something!!

Edit: crediting my therapist by name with her permission - this term was coined by Nahime Aguirre Mtanous!

Edit again: I made an optional follow-up to this post after seeing the responses. Might help somebody. CW for me frankly talking about how dangerous hLep really is.

[thebrainrotsreal]

Drew this real quick because I fucking love these two so much ???? Especially Bee. I wish they interacted more so badly. PLEASE.

Also learning how to draw these guys.. slowly.

[sunfoxfic]

We were so close to smoking not being cool anymore. We were so close. Then they flavored it mango and now it's taboo to criticize it anymore. People don't ask if they're allowed to vape indoors, they aren't considerate of people who may have health problems that are triggered by the chemicals or if it just bothers them, people don't care that they're supporting an industry built on corruption and greed, they can't see it draining their pockets and much less their health. We were so close to smoking not being cool anymore.

[lazylittledragon]

DID ASTARION GET A TATTOO ON HIS RING FINGER TO MATCH DORIAN+HIS FAM?!?!?!?!?!? I'M DYING

YES OF COURSE HE DID <33

[ducktracy]

there are a lot of evil people in the world and a lot of darkness in the world and so it’s very important for me to stress that now more than ever is the time to spread kindness and compassion. combat the evil by not only not partaking in it, but actively refuting it. destroy the notion that being compassionate or generous or kind to someone is uncool or embarrassing or even scary. be the change you want to see. start a chain reaction. positivity only breeds more positivity. do an act of kindness for someone so that that person who is too afraid to do it themselves can see you, realize that they’re not alone, and perhaps sheepishly follow your example. and then the next person who is too afraid but sees that person can do the same. when bad news comes out about bad people or horrible atrocities in the world it’s such an easy impulse to despair, and obviously it’s important to feel what you need to feel. grieve. be angry. be sorrowful. be empathetic. but dust off your pants and get up and be a part of a chain reaction that, no matter how small the scale, and spread compassion and love and care. all the reasons why you might not—“it’s hard! it’s scary! people will make fun of me! it’s useless because there’s too much evil!” are all grade A arguments as to why you should. you have no idea how many people you could inspire to do the same. even if it doesn’t get you anyway far, you can at least say you have the nobility of trying. please choose love and please choose life. you are worth loving and you are worth inspiring others to love

[clouvu]

Mother and Father 🫶

[featheredadora]

[hinamie]

all i have left

[poorly-drawn-mdzs]

Good morning, Sleepyhead.

[First] Prev <–-> Next

[inkskinned]

he says i hate everyone except you and that is addictive and that is kind of romantic and beautiful because you're young and you're kind of a sarcastic asshole too and you don't like bad boys, per say, but you don't really like good ones either. and you like that you were the exception, it felt like winning.

except life is not a romance book, and he was kind of being honest. he doesn't learn to be nice to your friends. he only tolerates your family. you have to beg him to come with you to birthday parties, he complains the whole time. you want to go on a date but - people are often there, wherever you're going. he's just so angry. about everything, is the thing. in the romance book, doesn't he eventually soften? can't you teach him, through your own sense of whimsy and comfort?

at first - you know introverts often need smaller friend groups, and honestly, you're fine staying at home too. you like the small, tidy life you occupy. you're not going to punish him for his personality type.

except: he really does hate everyone but you. which means he doesn't get along with his therapist. which means he has no one to talk to except for you. which means you take care of him constantly, since he otherwise has no one. which means you sometimes have to apologize for him. which means he keeps you home from seeing your friends because he hates them. you're the single exception.

about a decade from this experience, you'll type into google: how to know if a relationship is codependent.

he wraps an arm around you. i hate everyone except you. these days, you're learning what he's actually confessing is i have very little practice being kind.