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oreganojscudworth · 2 years
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my tf2 spy oc geneee
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tampire · 1 year
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Knight Soulmates Good Omens / Nimona
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shelyue99 · 4 months
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Full cast interview, TV Guide September 2001 issue
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parmaviolets · 2 months
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rip michael afton you wouoldve loved chappell roan
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saintmalosunsets · 2 months
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vino---delectable · 3 months
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Reblog with which Squintern would run your emotions if your brain was like inside out
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citizenscreen · 21 days
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Eugene Pallette, William Powell, and Robert McWade for Michael Curtiz‘s THE KENNEL MURDER CASE (1933)
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she-wolf09231982 · 8 months
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Chapter 6- Your Boys
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Summary: Easy Company is in the Ardennes Forest, outside of Bastogne, Belgium, trying to defend the Allied line against a German counterattack. You all face a bitter winter with insufficient ammunition, food, and medical supplies for the long, grueling battle. Historically known as the Battle of the Bulge, you rush soldier to soldier assisting Doc Roe treating the wounded during the peak of the attacks. Liebgott experiences his first real scare, almost losing you when you’re injured ignoring a direct order. 
A/N: Mature audience, Joe LiebgottxFem!Medic, post D-Day, She/Her Pronouns, Y/F/N, Y/L/N, Cursing/Swearing, Derogatory Slurs, Mentions of death, Confrontation, Military Terminology, 1940’s slang, Inappropriate Nicknames, Band of Brothers References, Mentions of Weaponry, German to English Translation, Descriptive Wounds/Injuries, Blood/Gore, Smoking, Banter, Pining, Consensual Physical Contact/PDA, FOREVER FLUFF 💚
German is identified with (g)
This chapter continues from 1x5 Crossroads then transitions into 1x6 Bastogne
While writing this, I ended up gravitating more towards the reader’s platonic relationships with the other soldiers of Easy.
*These stories may not fall entirely in accordance with the TV series timeline. I do not know the real soldiers the actors portray in this series, so please understand I show no disrespect. Some or most of historical events and character interactions in my fanfics are fabricated purely for the sake of the enjoyment of fiction*
~~~~~~~ 
October 1944 
You bury your face into Joe’s chest, both of your hands fisting the front of his uniform taking deep breaths as you fight tears back. Joe’s arms embrace you pinning your body against his as he rests his cheek on your head. Your breathing syncs with his while you listen to his bounding heartbeat, his hands caressing your back sending chills through your entire nervous system. 
Your mind is a void. Nothing is there or around you except you and Joe. You stand there holding eachother for what seemed like hours. With his cheek, Joe nudged the side of your head still hiding in his shirt. You raise your eyes to his as a few tears cascade down your cheeks. He smiles at you, gently kisses your forehead pulling you back in to hold you again. You take a deep breath, inhaling his scent, then exhale. 
“Joe...”  
“Yeah?”  
“What happens now?” you ask. 
You each slightly pull away to look at eachother. 
“Whaddya mean?” he questioned. 
“This makes everything so much harder.”  
“How?” Joe asked, tilting his head to the side inquisitively. 
“I don’t know about you, but if anything happens to you-” you trailed off at the horrible thought of ever losing him, “I-I don’t know what I’d do...” you struggled to say without more tears streaming from your eyes. 
Joe cupped your face bringing his face level with yours. 
“Look at me, we’re gettin’ through this shit together. You understand me?” 
You nod, “Mmhm.”  
He brushes your stray hairs away from your face as he studies every freckle, each worry line, committing your face to memory so whenever he’s out in the field without you, he can see you again when he closes his eyes. 
“You are the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen...” he whispered, bringing his eyes back to yours. 
You melt back into him, risking the borrowed time each of you had together before he had to leave again. 
~~~~~~~ 
Outskirts of Bastogne, December 1944 
You walk with Doc through the frozen Ardennes Forest, trying to find your way to the 3rd Battalion for supplies, but to no avail...you were lost. You make your way back to where you started before you lost your way. You come upon Winters sitting on the edge of his foxhole preparing to shave with an ammo can filled with ice cold water. 
As you approach him, he waves the both of you down after hearing a clatter in the distance. 
“Doc! Doc! Y/L/N!” he shout whispered to you. 
Winters grabs his rifle, and waves you on to come with him to investigate the unknown noise. You come upon a German soldier ready to squat to relieve himself in the distance. Winters tapped you with his elbow prompting you to communicate with the German. 
“Beweg dich nicht! (g) (Do not move)” you call out to the man. 
The German soldier froze, doing as he was directed. 
“Steh langsam und halte deine Hände so, dass wir sie sehen können. (g) (Stand slowly and keep your hands where we can see them)” You instructed.  
The man complied, raising his hands high over his head.   
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With this soldier as your new POW, Winters had him brought back to Regiment for intel. You were lucky to score a new bandage off the German upon searching his gear. You had very little medical supplies left so you and Doc were left scrounging for anything you could get. 
As the prisoner is taken away, a jeep pulls up with Col Sink, and the Division Commander, General McAuliffe. You stand with Eugene off to the side as you listen in on the conversation. 
“We’re under sporadic artillery fire, General. We’re taking a lot of hits and have no aid station.” Winters continued. 
Nixon joined the conversation. 
“General, I took a walk on our line about 0300 last night. I couldn't find the 501st  on our right flank. We've got considerable gaps in our perimeter.” Nixon explained. 
“I don't have enough people, sir. We're spread too thin.” Winters added. 
“Hold the line. Close the gaps.” Gen McAuliffe replied curtly. 
“How?” You spat viciously outloud before you could stop yourself. Eugene’s breath hitched as he nudged you. 
Winters, Nixon, Sink and McAuliffe looked at you. You stood there holding your breath. 
“Excuse me, Corporal, you got something to say?” Gen McAuliffe dared. 
Winters offered you a look that told you to proceed with caution. 
“-No, sir.” you reply almost as a growl. The men resumed their conversation. 
Eugene leaned towards you, “If I didn’t already know ya, I’d say you had some Cajun in your blood.” he whispered. 
You each exchanged a weak smile. 
~~~~~~~ 
You and Doc Roe split up to scrounge around throughout the other companies for any aid supplies the guys can spare. Doc is on a personal mission for a pair of scissors after he lost his in Holland. 
You run into Guarnere. 
“Hey, Y/L/N-” he began. 
“Bill, how’s that leg?” you ask him. 
“The hell with the leg, I’m pissing needles!” Guarnere exclaimed. 
“Bill, later. I need to find morphine and scissors for Doc.” you reply. 
You come upon another foxhole and find Liebgott with Alley.  
Joe beamed at you when he saw you peek over the edge, “Hey you! Where have you been?” he asked smiling broadly.  
It’s become difficult to hold back a smile when you see him anymore. 
“Hey guys. Got any spare syrettes?” you ask. 
Alley passes his morphine to Liebgott to hand to you. 
“Thanks, Alley.” you reply excitedly, “Hey, Lieb?” you continue. 
Joe stood up to get closer to you, bearing his signature smirk. The butterflies stirred in your stomach. 
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“Can I have your scissors?” you requested sweetly. 
He furrowed his brows, “My scissors?” he questioned. 
“Yeah, Doc needs a pair, he doesn’t have any.” you clarify. 
“Ah,” Joe went into one of his pockets pulling a small pair of medical shears and handing them to you, “Here.”  
You beam back at him, “Thanks, Joe.” You lean in closer to him, “I’ll make sure to keep yours and give Doc mine. Something to remember you by.” you whisper in his ear. 
You pull away and wink at him. Joe smiled back, pointing to his chapped lips signifying he wanted a quick kiss. You peck his mouth then spring to your feet to go find Doc. 
As you’re running to where you last seen Doc, you hear a blast from German artillery in the distance. You crouch closer to the ground, unsure what was to follow or from where. You look around you in all directions seeing soldiers scurrying to foxholes manning their positions to prepare to fight back. More artillery attacks from the Germans showering dirt and shrapnel everywhere, you run hole to hole seeing if anyone needed your help. You catch Roe doing the same across the way. 
“MEDIC!” you hear in the distance as more explosions erupt all around you. You take cover where you can after each shell hits the dirt, trying to get to the soldiers in need. You and Doc made it to the same foxhole at the same time with Randleman and Penkala. 
“Penkala!” Doc called out. 
“It’s the artery! I can feel it.” Penkala screamed holding his left arm. 
“Pen, let go!” you yell at him as Doc tries to get at the wound on his forearm. 
“It’s the goddam artery!” Penkala repeats panicked. 
“Penkala, loosen your fingers, goddam it! Loosen them now!” Doc barked. 
“I’ll bleed to death!” Penkala cries. 
“Relax your arm! Come on!” you tell him as Doc holds his arm straight for you to see, “It’s not the artery.” you confirm. 
You hear another call for a medic in the opposite direction. 
“Go on, Y/L/N, I got this.” Doc reassures you. 
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You turn to sprint towards the shouts for help, diving behind snow mounds and piles of fallen trees for cover everytime a blast strikes close enough to where you are. 
~~~~~~~ 
After the attacks died down, you find Doc Roe with Spina (another medic) in a foxhole. 
“-This is what I want you to do,” Doc began to Spina, “I want you to take someone and work your way over to the 3rd Battalion, all right? You know what we need. Bandages, plasma, whatever you can beg, you beg. All right and get me some goddam scissors. I can’t get any.” he finished exasperated. 
Spina jumped out of the hole as you slip in next to Doc while he looks through his satchel. You pull out your own personal scissors and present them to him. He sees them and looks at you perplexed. 
“For you.” you insisted. 
Doc takes them from you still looking confused. 
“Liebgott gave me his.” you explain with a grin. He flashed a slight smile showing his gratitude. 
“Thanks, Y/F/N.” Doc responded patting you on the shoulder.  
You nod and leave the foxhole to make yourself useful somewhere else. 
~~~~~~~ 
Later that evening, you’re told by one of the other guys that Toye was missing something and that you should pay him a visit. You crawl on your stomach over to the men in the foxhole. 
“Hey, you guys ok?” you ask. 
Toye’s foxhole buddy, McClung, replies with a few complaints of starving to death. 
“Toye? Are you missing something?” you ask. 
“Home.” Toye responds without missing a beat. 
“Ask him to dance, Y/L/N.” McClung hints to you. 
You look at Toye with concern, “Toye? Show me your feet.” you urge. 
Toye directs a look of annoyance at him, “You watch the goddam line, McClung."
Toye raised a leg presenting a bootless foot wrapped in shredded wool blanket tied with boot laces. 
“Where the hell are your boots!?” you questioned him. 
“In Washington, up General Taylor’s ass.” he replies sarcastically. 
“Jesus, what happened?”  
“I took them off to dry my goddam socks and they got blown to hell, okay?” Toye explained. 
“What’s your size?” you ask him. 
“Nine, just like everyone else.” he huffed. 
“I’ll see what I can do.” you tell him as you give him a reassuring squeeze on his shoulder before you leave. 
~~~~~~~ 
The following morning, the second wave from the Germans hit while you were sitting in a small foxhole by yourself. Gunfire and mortars erupt all around you. Multiple calls from all directions for a medic fill the air. 
“MEDIC!” you run in the direction of the first call you can hear closest to you. Weaving and dodging blasts and pings of bullets flying past your head. 
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You see Doc and Perconte carrying Sisk to a jeep, loading him up to take him back to Bastogne for additional aid. When Doc returns, Sgt Martin gathers some of Easy for a reconnaissance mission. When you and Doc try to join, he tells you stay behind.  
As you wait in the quiet, gunfire commences in the distance where the guys just convoyed to. You hear shouting from your guys that someone is hit. You start to run towards the commotion. 
“Y/L/N! Where the hell do you think you’re goin’? Eugene yells after you. 
“I’m going to go help!” you call back without stopping. 
“You’re going to get yourself killed! Y/F/N stop!” Doc shouted. 
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You kept moving forward. You find cover behind dirt mounds and trees, cautiously and quickly trying to make contact with your guys. You see them through the fog all taking cover behind a pile of lumber, then you look to the right and see a man on the ground, squirming while clutching his throat.  
“Oh, shit...” you whisper to yourself.  
You crawl up next to Randleman and Martin. 
“Y/L/N!? What the hell are you doing here?? I told you to stay back!” Martin yelled. 
“I heard someone was hit, Sarge!” you justified. 
“Damn it, girl, don’t you listen?” Bull scolded. 
Germans firing from the opposite direction made it impossible to move anywhere. 
“Sarge, who’s out there??” you yell gesturing to the soldier out in the open. 
“Julian!” Martin replied. 
You army crawl to the edge where the lumber ends and try to estimate the distance to get to the injured soldier.  
“Y/L/N! What in the hell are you doin’??” Martin shouted. 
 “I can get him!” you yell over your shoulder. 
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“The hell you can! The Krauts aren’t lettin’ up! You’ll get hit, too!” Heffron cried out. 
“I can!” you pushed back. 
Laying completely flat on your stomach and chest, you pull yourself out by your arms and hands from behind the pile of wood. 
“Somebody grab her, goddam it!” Martin yelled out. 
“So close...” you whisper to yourself as you lean on your left elbow to reach for Julian’s left hand with your right until you feel a dull but blunt sting just below your left shoulder on your back.  
The remaining breath you had exited your lungs, and the world around you fell silent. You feel a pool of warmth soak through your uniform when you’re suddenly pulled back by your feet by Randleman. A trail of your blood left behind in the snow from where you had been laying. 
“God dammit! I fucking knew it!” Martin shouted.  
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“I gotchya, girl.” you hear Randleman say. 
“Pull back! We gotta pull back! Go!” Martin ordered the others. 
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You suddenly feel yourself hoisted over a shoulder being carried away from the position. 
You hear Randleman’s voice again, “Hang on, Y/F/N, almost there.” 
He lays you down as softly as he could when he reaches a safe distance. 
“Goddam it, Y/L/N, why did you go?” Doc whispered as he opened your uniform jacket where the wound was. 
He pulled back the fabric and saw that there was an exit wound, signifying the bullet had gone clean through the front. 
“Well, at least I don’t have to go diggin’ for anything in there.” Doc stated. 
“Where is she!?” Liebgott’s voice rang out. 
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Joe pushed past a few of the guys standing around where Randleman and Doc were kneeling on the ground with you. Bull stood up to meet Liebgott as he approached you and Doc. 
“Easy, Joe, she’s ok. Let Doc do his work first.” Randleman said restraining him respectfully by the torso. 
A horrified Liebgott stared at you lying on the ground. Blood leaking from your left side onto the snow leaving a pool of red in its wake. The bullet made contact next to your scapula and exited through the front directly under your left clavicle. Doc had already applied a bandage and a syrette to prepare you for transport. Doc nodded at Randleman to let Liebgott go. 
Joe knelt next to you, not knowing where to put his hands on you.  
“It’s ok, Lieb, you can hold her.” Doc told him. 
Joe scooped your limp body up with soft hands and cradled you in his arms.  
“What the fuck happened?” Liebgott growled without looking away from your face. 
“She tried to grab Julian who was bleeding out on the road while the Krauts were firing at us from the woods.” Heffron explained. 
Liebgott’s jaw clenched, “And?”  
“She was close, Joe, but they got her before she could get him. I pulled her back as soon as she got hit.” Bull added. 
Joe pushed the loose strands from your tousled hair away from your face as you rested in his arms. Seeing your face pale and your breath shallow sent anger and rage boiling over inside of him.  
“Lieb, the bullet missed her lung, and the bone. It was a clean shot. All she needs is plasma and rest. She’s gonna be fine.” Doc reassured as he squat next to both of you with his hand on Joe’s shoulder. 
Joe looked at Eugene, “Thanks, Doc. Bull...all of you guys, for watching out for her.”  
~~~~~~~ 
Bastogne Christmas 1944 
Because of the significant amount blood you lost that day, you remained unconscious for almost four days. Easy company took on another frontal attack from the Germans the night before Christmas Eve. The following morning, Liebgott got approval to take a ride back to Bastogne to see you at the church where all the wounded were being held. 
As he entered the building, Eugene met him at the entrance. 
“Hey, Lieb, she’s over here.” Doc said walking towards a set of stairs with Joe on his heels. 
“How is she, Doc?” Joe asked nervously. 
Doc turned to him, “She’s awake.” 
“She’s awake?” Joe echoed. 
Doc chuckled, “Yeah, she’s doin’ just fine, Lieb. I told ya she’d be ok.”  
Doc stopped at a curtained off area for female casualties. About a dozen beds each boxed off by curtains for privacy, Doc gestured towards the other side of the room where your bed was located. 
“She’s back there, Joe. She’s been asking for ya. Take all the time you need.” Doc added with a weak smile. 
Joe smiled back extending his hand to shake Eugene’s. 
“Thanks, Doc.”  
Liebgott proceeded to the curtained off bed at the end of the row. He peeked through the opening, seeing you laying peacefully in the bed. Your eyes hooded and color returning to your face, he looked upon you like he saw you for the first time. You bear heavy bandages over your left shoulder in a sling. He slowly pushed the divider aside. 
You quickly look over and pure joy stretches across your face as you try to sit up to meet him. 
“Joe!” you exclaim then wince from pain as you move forward to reach for him. 
“Jesus Christ, Gams, don’t move too much!” he chastised sitting on the edge of the bed extending a soft touch on your injured shoulder.  
Joe gently guided you backwards, propping your pillow up so you could lean back against the headboard. 
“I’m fine, Joe.” you respond grabbing his hand. 
He looks you over with serious eyes. Unable to contain the outrage he felt seeing the results of what the Germans had done to you. This thought raised other concerns as well. 
Joe looked at you distraught, “Why would just throw yourself into middle of that shit, Y/F/N?”  
You meet his exhausted face, feeling at a loss for words to justify your actions.  
“Joe-” you began. 
“You could’ve died. We almost lost you. I almost lost you...You understand how close you were to dying?” he interrupted before you could continue.  
You look down feeling guilty, “I wanted to help,” you say quietly. “I wouldn’t’ve been able to forgive myself if I didn’t at least go out there and try.” you explained.  
You steal a glance at Joe. His face was still twisted with worry. He placed his palm against your cheek cradling your head bringing your face up to look at him. 
“You have a lot of good inside you, sweetheart,” he smiled weakly shaking his head, “but you ain’t helpin’ no one if you’re dead.” he added. 
You nod in agreement, “I know...I’ll be more careful, Joe, I promise.” you pledge. 
“I told you we’re gettin’ out of this shit together, didn’t I? I need you on the same page with me.” he reminded. 
“We are. I swear it.” you confirm. 
“The guys have been worried about ‘chya.” Joe added. 
“Yeah?” you ask, placing your hand on your chest pleasantly surprised. 
“All of ‘em. Bull said he pulled you out.”  
“Yeah, last thing I remember was him throwing me over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes.” you recollect. 
Joe scoffed, “Yeah, and Martin is still pissed at you.”  
“Oh boy,” you palm your face, “I don’t blame him.” you add. 
“Doc said you’ll be outta here soon.” 
“Yeah, I can’t wait to get back out there.” 
Joe eyed you skeptically, then shook his head. 
“I know, I know, Joe, but I promised I’d do better, remember? Doc needs extra hands out there, too.” you explain. 
Joe smiled, entertained and touched by your passion leaned in kissing you gently, tenderly deepening after each breath taken. 
~~~~~~~ 
You had been discharged that same day while Joe was visiting and had returned to the line with him. You made sure to grab a pair of size nine boots for Toye on the way out, as promised. 
That evening, a German bombing run hits Bastogne and the church turned aid station takes a couple of direct hits, destroying the building and unfortunately trapping some left-over casualties and medical personnel during evacuation. Doc returned from the town with this grave news, to which you comforted your medic brother since he lost his friend, Renee in the attack.  
You had a special place for each of these men in your big heart. These are your boys. You would split yourself into fifty to have the ability to be there for them properly. It broke your heart to see any of them in any kind of pain. It killed you more inside to not be able to be there to do so. Having been so close to pulling Julian from that road to no avail will haunt your dreams for the entirety of your life. You felt like you failed him and the rest of the guys.  
Thank goodness for Liebgott. Your Saviour with a mouth and soft touch with calloused hands. 
~~~~~~~ 
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rebelwheelsnycpoetry · 5 months
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And The Papers Said
TW: ABLEISM & EUGENICS by Michele Sommerstein
Part One And the papers said Michael Hickson, a black disabled man. And the papers said Hospital. Texas. COVID. Infection And the papers said Killed. For his doctor did not feel And the papers said that a… quadriplegic could possibly have a quality, of life. And the papers said and thus was not worth saving And the papers said (was not saved) disabled people are not of worth message repeating and… sent.
And the papers said the doctor had the audacity to say And the papers said it's not personal, to Hickson's wife, And the papers said There are set criteria from the state And the papers said As to who will live and who they let die And the papers said Michael Hickson. a black disabled body, that did not comply
Once again, reunited Eugenics & Capitalism America's not so secret friends fucking each other furiously for the sake of mindless fucking, like machines wallowing in their own stains, covered in their own blood and filth, crimes. unclean Disgusted? You should be.
Part Two Shortages! Hospitals! Ventilators! Low! This, that was avoidable & created by the vulture capitalists who see death… elated - pandemic as an opportunity! Cha-ching! Soulless! Shortages! Created by, the powers that be Like when, Cuomo – the hero praised at times for merely being, better than Trump! (Raise the bar! This drinks on me) cut funding, healthcare. home care. hospitals (before and during the pandemic) Shortages! So the billionaires would be spared from paying their fair, share, of… taxes Shortages! While marginalized people are blamed for, “costing too much” the audacity of austerity…
Shortages created when patients, infected knowingly sent to nursing homes, locked up. death traps, unleashing COVID on the people in places where social distancing was never, even, an option.
Part Three There are those, who will hear these words, shrug and nonchalant they will say things like Well, these things happen, what can you do? Those who are complacent, able bodied, complicit, still living but numb. They will repeat, their response so casually even to the face of those visibly disabled, as if it's nothing in a tone used to discuss sweaters and their… plans for lunch as if we as a society can't do better? (We can. We must.)
Who taught you about disability? Who lied to you saying disabled people are less than, undeserving? That we are better off dead?
Part Four And the papers said… His wife implored, insisting, knowing he lived a full life. And the papers said for in her eyes, in her heart, her love's life was worth saving. And the papers said, doctors withheld treatment including hydration… nutrition read: starving him for six. days Michael Hickson. a black disabled body that did not comply. “Michael Hickson, [a black disabled man] died leaving, his wife and five children, behind.“
About the poem: I originally wrote this poem because, so often as a disabled person, you read these headlines and it’s absorbed into you, but there's not always an outlet to really express the emotional toll.
So often, I'd read the headlines and somewhat shut down because I can’t feel every time I read something like this, but it’s still in you. Michael Hickson was the first time I read an article that actually included a name when they were discussing “state criterias' and the pandemic. The conversation between the doctor and Hickson’s wife was recorded and when I heard it, it just hit me on a deeper level and I had to write something.
That said, to learn more about the intersections of ableism & racism, I suggest checking out the following peoples: @Imani_Barbarin , @VilissaThompson , @BlackDisability & @powernotpity on Twitter.
You can read more about Michael Hickson’s story here: https://notdeadyet.org/2020/06/adapt-of-texas-protests-hospital-killing-of-michael-hickson-a- black-disabled-man.html
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sundewhasaudhd · 2 months
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Favorite V poly ships
(If you don’t know, V polyamory is when there are three people in a poly relationship, with one person dating two people, but those two are only dating the one person. It’s like the relationship is in the shape of a V, hence the name V polyamory)
Nishalia from Ride the Cyclone (with Mischa dating Noel and Talia)
Unknighted Dream from Tangled the Series (with Rapunzel dating Eugene and Cassandra)
Whatever Michael, Jeremy, and Christine’s ship name is/would be from Be More Chill (with Jeremy dating Michael and Christine)
Alright, that’s all I can think of currently, plus I gotta work on my c!TNT duo comic (cause I took my ADHD meds for that shit), if I think of more, I’ll probably reblog this with them
(I hope I get attract some of the gummy bear cult with the BMC and RTC)
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autoneurotic · 3 months
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jeanne hearing her voices
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daryldixonnn · 2 years
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<3
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thelaughingmerman · 7 months
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I made keychains!
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boardchairman-blog · 2 days
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**Shots of the Episode**
Only Murders in the Building (2021)
Season 4, Episode 3: “Two for the Road” (2024) Director: Chris Koch Cinematographer: Kyle Wullschleger
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Celebrity Men I Would Let Walk Me Home At Night
Ke Huy Quan (he has never done anything wrong ever in his life)
Tom Hiddleston (Would talk about his wife and child the whole time and ask about my day)
Hozier (Would yap about bees the whole way home which is super cool)
Owen Wilson (We’d talk about the importance of mental health and I’d bonk him over the head for the whole daughter thing)
Chris Evans (We would talk about women the whole way home and how awesome they are, blessings to this earth)
Anthony Mackie (We’d listen to Disney soundtracks and belt them out so predators don’t try and approach)
Eugene Cordero (We’d talk about what a shit person Jonathan Majors is)
David Tennant (Would call me by my preferred name and pronouns, we could talk about acting and theatre)
Michael Sheen (Would make fun of David’s pineapple)
As always, if any of these men have allegations, I’ll drop them from the list, but these are my picks :]
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whooplee · 1 year
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felt like ranting about meaningless things so here i am ranting about meaningless things:
i love early mornings but i never wake up to see them because i know my family will make a big deal out of a slight change in my routine, which just discourages me from ever doing it again.
i have a bad habit of compulsively thinking of depressing poetry and writing it down, only when i need to focus on something more important. like my maths exam, which now has lines upon lines of shitty poetry crammed between quadratic equations and polynomials that my teacher took marks off for.
i hate waking up on school mornings but refuse to go to bed on school nights. i won’t let my body fall asleep. i need to savour every moment i have where i’m not in school, even if that means cutting into my needed hours of sleep. even if that means not sleeping at all!
i am obsessively in love with flynn rider/ eugene fitzherbert. obsessively.
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