#parachute experiment

[religion-is-a-mental-illness]

[carcarrot]

roses are red, violets are okay,

[faksyan]

Saw people talking about cringy romance/smut fanfics they wrote as teens and how embarrassed they are by it now and went huh. so many writers had that phase I wonder why I didn't. guess I just didn't find any of that stuff that interesting.

my man my guy you should've figured out the aroace thing sooner.

[poetlcs]

I love how Gaylors always say anyone critical of them has to be homophobic like babes I’ve had irl women in my bed idk about u

[lamorevaeviene]

Può la magia del volo essere descritta con parole? Penso di no. Skydive Siracusa 🪂😍

[casiavium]

ahhhh

[justthatspiffy]

do you think there's an objective measurement for 'moisture wicking'? because polyester fabrics be making some claims

[tandembaseus]

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[recursive360]

Machine Gun (Live)

[submalevolentgrace]

Hi! I'm very interested in attempting to write a disabled character (not for this blog, I assure, for an book I'm writing) in which the story doesn't fetishize/objectify her prosthetic limb. I'm in many writing circles and have been for a long while, but I've never seen this issue brought to light which I realise is a very important one. I have much to change in my thought process, and thank you for bringing this issue to attention.

I'm curious, and I apologise if this has been asked before, but what sort of design could you see for a functional prosthetic that doesn't go for a plainly aesthetic appearance, or is soully to please others? I do note that you said prosthetics are generally... not that helpful. So is there a way that it could be? Or do you think it would always generally be better to not use a prosthetic, as its mostly for aesthetic purposes, as you said?

I apologise if this ask is too outright or anything, and I don't mean to intrude. Thank you for your time and have a beautiful day!

okay, i want to answer this as in depth as possible, because whenever i talk about having a prosthesis, someone will always tag some variation of "#writing reference" and i do wonder what message they're taking away, and i want to get as much of my experience out as possible to maybe help shape how this is all portrayed in the future. and yeah… this is gonna be one of those rambly smg posts that the expand feature was invented for, so i'll start with the very abridged TL;DR:

if you're writing a character with an upper limb prosthesis; don't. arm amputees are unicorn level rare even compared to leg amputees, and i've never interacted with or even heard of an upper limb amputee that regularly uses a prosthesis, let alone relies on one. fiction has lied to you for the sake of cool aesthetics, don't repeat the cycle. more in depth writing advice including nuance and "but i waaaant to" will follow.

that said, grab your donning parachute and let's get started...

context for everyone involved: i am an upper limb amputee that rants a lot about how prostheses suck, i lost my right hand roughly five years ago at roughly the age of 30 after a very rough decline in health… it was pretty rough. this question is being asked in the context of a previous rant post of mine, and i checked that the ask is about an upper limb prosthesis in particular.

the situation regarding the usefulness of lower limb prostheses is totally different; i am definitely no expert, but by all accounts, prosthetic legs are incredibly useful for many people. getting a good leg can be absolutely life changing and more or less necessary for day to day life for some; mostly because infrastructure and society is just so fucking hostile to wheelchair users. being able to walk - at the cost of pressure sores and rashes and increased residual limb pain - is a preferable option to many people than being unable to fit through a doorway or in a bathroom stall or find out that the key to unlock the only elevator is in the admin office up three flights of stairs (true story).

but upper limb prostheses… see, the thing is, hands are incredibly complex organs that rely on a lot of immediate haptic feedback to work at all. hand dexterity is all about control, you need fine granular movements of the digits yes, but you also need the subtle sensations of pressure and proprioception in order to adjust your movements on the fly. i speak from experience, in the years leading up to the full loss of my hand, i was slowly losing function of it, usually swinging between numbness that made it clumsy at best, or screaming overstimulation from moving it at all resulting in unpredictable spasms… and let me tell you, a half working hand is infuriating to try and deal with. you can never know if you have a good grip on something or if it's slipping because of the wrong amount of pressure, and there's only so many smashed bottles of pickles on the floor before you give up using it all together… so amputation wasn't a great loss there, i had time to adapt.

a prosthetic hand of any kind has all of those issues and more. they're heavy and bulky, the cosmetic faux fingers or gripping claw have crude movement at best, and there's zero feedback (put a pin in this). 100% of the time you're using a prosthetic hand you have to keep your eyes on the grip and visually guesstimate whether or not the thing you're carrying is held tight enough but not too tight, that is if your "heavy duty" prosthesis can even support the weight without the servos disengaging or the wrist attachment socket just busting loose. i dropped a whippersnipper on my foot last week when my socket couldn't take the weight and i think that was the final straw in me desperately trying to prove to myself that there is a single task my prosthesis actually helps with.

this is usually where fully two handed people start talking about bleeding edge DARPA tech, and how we just need to invest more,research more, develop more. better tech, more tech, neural integration, more more more. okay i promise the writing advice is coming! for starters on tech, my experience is already with a mid-to-high end ottobock terminal device: i've got a myoelectric nerve-signal operated proportional control heavy duty greifer; about the only upgrade left for me to get would be a rotating wrist joint if i could coflex. it's not military, it's not "rockclimber that owns a prosthetic company", but it's quality tech. it still fucking sucks. secondly, that high level military tech exists primary for PR purposes so they can say they treat their discarded casualties well, "we can rebuild him, we have the technology" style. every war vet i've read about or heard from that's been gifted that high level tech also abandons it for the same reasons; it's imprecise, there's no feedback (or the haptic interface has to be fully recalibrated every time they put it on), but mostly they're more capable without one.

okay, the transhumanist ableds say (i should know, i used to be one), what if we did more ~research and development~ and got that neural feedback working? then we could have fireproof superhumanly strong robot arms to fix up everyone! here's where i take out that pin we put up before and i tell you that a class of prosthetic arms/hands already exists that has perfect proportional control, fine motor control, and physics perfect pressure feedback piped directly into the patients' existing sensory systems! they're called body-powered prostheses, and they were invented in like the 1600s. you strap a whole bunch of stuff to your arm and shoulders shoulders, and control the operation of the terminal device and elbow through cable tension by flexing your shoulders. they do take a considerable amount of training to operate - though hell i spent 18 months training to use my myo - but based on everything i've read, body-powered prostheses are the best option if you're an upper limb amputee and absolutely need a second hand for some reason.

but they don't look cool and futuristic, and according to my prosthetist, most people give up on using them too. we all give up on our prostheses, no matter the type. my rehab OT was impressed i lasted the 18 months of my training. towards the end, they even asked if the clinic director could drop in to one of my sessions to see my progress; he expressed genuine amazement at me casually using my bulky robot claw to use a brush and dustpan, and made an offhanded (hah) comment about what someone can achieve "if they stick it out to the end", implying it was somewhat of a rarity for me to have done so. several years on, and yesterday i wedged the dustpan between my ankles to sweep up into it, awkward but exponentially less effort than putting my dusty robot arm on. which, by the way, is a whole thing. look up some videos, they're all awful to don. i don't actually know the official technical name of what my clinic calls a "parachute" but it's a bitch to use! have you ever tried to pull back with your arm whilst also pushing it forwards at the same time, and simultaneously lean in to and away from an external force pulling on you? that's how you get a myo socket on.

bare with me, i promise writing advice is coming, and i promise it's more than the tl;dr. but. remember when i said a half working hand is infuriating to deal with? any prosthesis, from fancy myo tech to pirate-era body powered, will only ever be half as good as a working hand, and being juuuust within capability to do something but not quite able to is maddening! but you know what works way better than a half working hand? no hand at all. using whatever residual/vestigial limb you have - whatever "stump" you have, i hate that word - is pretty much always better than trying to use a prosthesis. i can use the inside of my elbow to grip and carry things, i can use the nub of my arm to apply pressure to hold things, open doors, use a computer mouse, turn on taps and lights, if i put a glove over it i can use it to prep for cooking. i have full proprioception and pressure feedback with skin contact, i don't think i've ever dropped and broken anything from my elbow, unlike countless things slipped from my greifer - which, by the way, absolutely will start clenching as tight as it can if i get even slightly too sweaty around the electrodes, which has both broken things i'm holding and also injured me, because surprise surprise but servo operated robot claws have pinch points on them right near the "emergency disengage" lever for some reason!

but i am exponentially more capable without it on than with it. no, i'm not fully independent, i rely on housemates and loved ones to help me out with some tasks that simply just need two handed dexterity, but none of those tasks are things a prosthesis makes me able to do anyway. i used to imagine my prosthesis would be like a bra; a bit awkward and uncomfortable, but i'd wear it throughout the day because it's helpful and take it off in the evening to decompress. in reality it's actually exactly like a bra: an absolute bitch to put on one handed, unbearably uncomfortable because it never sits right, ugly af unless you're a millionaire, and absolutely useless except for the fact that i get gawked at and judged by strangers if i leave the house without it on.

and if you really want to discover how far "no hand is better than a half working hand" goes, brace yourself, and look up the patient's stories (not medical system stories) of people that have had hand transplants. the first man to receive one hated it, he was promised a return to normal function, and what he got was a nightmare worse than being one handed; he wanted it removed again but the doctors refused because it would undermine their grand achievement of the first hand transplant. the doctors and society wanted him to be fixed, they wanted him to be normal, they wanted him to be abled. they failed. they made him less able to do things, denied his autonomy, and left him with someone else's hand slowly rotting on him, prioritising the idea of "scientific progress" and "two hands good" over the physical health, mental health, and ability to function of this man.

he's not alone; every story from the patients' perspective about hand transplants that i've read goes this way, including a woman who was born quad limb different and was promised hands would improve her life, pressured into a double hand transplant, only to find herself after the surgery essentially experiencing disability for the first time ever, because she had lived her whole life getting by just fine with her 'underdeveloped' limbs, but half working hands are worse than useless. you can try to find these stories yourself, but i'm not going looking for sources on any of these cases, because if you look back through enough of my posts you'll get a glimpse of the horrors and abuses that i too was put through by doctors who prioritised trying to "fix" me at any cost, rather than providing me the best quality of life, and in turn traumatised me and left me more broken than any loss of limb on its own could. dear goddess, i promise the writing advice is coming.

so. why do upper limb prostheses exist at all? if they're so terrible and useless, what is their function? i want to borrow something someone else left in the tags of a previous rant here, from someone who i believe works in prosthetics and/or rehab, cleaned up and anonymised at their request:

"upper limb functions are wildly more complex than: 1) bear weight static, and 2) bear weight moving. but every single upper limb amputee i know has a fancy expensive prosthetic just gathering dust in the closet because there is literally nothing it can do like a few years of adjustment and if needed non-dominant hand retraining can't do. the existence of forquarter prosthetics to begin with is just kind of silly and useless and entirely to make OTHER people feel comfortable, especially considering they universally are UNcomfortable for the amputee. i hate the notion that as soon as you get the amputation the prosthetic is The Thing That Will Fix You And Make You Feel Normal again because it universally isn't! but every forequarter person i know had like this ideal of Being Fixed By Magic Prosthetic that they were then obviously wildly disappointed by and had to do yet another grieving process with, versus if the dominant narrative were just one of: yeah. it'll take time, there is no magic fix."

and i think that really nails down what the actual purpose of upper limb prostheses is: they're not for the user, they're for the sake of other people. and not just their comfort when looking at our bodies, although based on the pressure for both amputees and people born limb different to get functionless cosmetic plastic hands, there is a lot of that. but it's not just that.

i fully believe that the reason prosthetic hands exists is to comfort the fears of the two handed. "don't worry", they say, "we can fix you again. you don't have to fear becoming Disabled, you don't have to worry about adapting or your life changing. we can make you Normal™ again."

you would not believe the number of people that have approached me to shower me with pity, to tell me how horrific my life is, how they can't imagine it. people have told me, apropos of nothing, that they'd kill themselves if they lost a hand. indirectly, that my life isn't worth living. unless, of course, i happen to be wearing my cool as fuck looking robot prosthesis! then they tell me how wonderful it is, how lucky i am, how glad they are that we have the technology to fix me. that's what a prosthetic hand says, what all the happy fishing photos on limbs4life posters at the rehab clinic say: don't worry, we can fix you. that's what the bleeding edge DARPA flexi-whatever fully articulated neuro-feedback hands say: don't worry if you get IED'd while hunting civilians for us to drone bomb, if you get hurt, we will fix you, we will fix the fuck out of you, we will motherfucking adam jensen you into a cool as fuck cyborg that your son will idolise; come on boys, don't you wanna enlist just for the chance at being as cool as this? join the bomb squad for a ticket to the upgrade lottery.

and so we arrive at fiction. as much as his dialogue options protest, adam jensen loves his robot arms, they punch through walls, turn into fucking swords! they make him the most special man in the world. what would he do without them? learn to cope? grieve? practice acceptance? take up poetry? just, be disabled? there's no power fantasy for ableds in that.

in fact, can you think of a single fictional character that's an upper limb amputee that's, well, just an amputee? they all have robot arms. not realistic prostheses, not medical devices; robot arms. sleek or bulky, top of the line or broken down self built, steampunk or nanomachines or magitech automail; they're never without them. never just an amputee. never born limb different either! there's always that element of tragedy to overcome, always suffering and misery porn, always focus on the pain and the helplessness without the absolutely vital robot arm that makes them Normal and Whole. the closest amputee example i can think of is furiosa from mad max, who iirc fucking punches max in the face with her residual limb like a motherfucking badass! i can barely lean on mine wrong and she punches a guy! but she still apparently needs a dieselpunk robot hand to drive a truck, something you can do one handed so easily most drivers don't even notice they're doing it! please don't, by the way

and so many disabled fans love to point to robot armed characters as disability representation; the winter soldier, luke skywalker, edward elric, misty knight, that genderswapped furry girl from ratchet and clank, jet cowboybebop, finn the human, and yes, adam jensen…. these are all characters that someone disabled i know has told me they love because they "represent disabled bodies"…. and i know nobody wants to hear this, because i've been screamed at for saying it before, but… they do not. they are not disabled, functionally or within fiction. they are either perfectly able bodied Normal people with chrome paint on an arm, or tortured misery porn we are supposed to pity and feel lucky we're not them. sometimes both!

also you ever notice how it's basically always arms? lower limb amputations are orders of magnitude more common than upper, my prosthetist said i was probably only the 4th or 5th upper limb she'd worked with in her career, with literally hundreds of lower limb fits. but fiction doesn't seem to reflect that, huh? or any other part of the reality of disability. it's always cool as fuck robot arms, never cool as fuck wheelchairs or crutches or dialysis machines or colostomy bags. a fair few "i was blind but now i can see with Robot Eyes and also infrared and xray" around, which again, plays into that "we can fix you and make you cooler" propaganda.

by the way, up above when i was describing body powered arms, if you wondered to yourself why i went with a myoelectric one instead when i clearly believe body powered is better… yeah. i am not immune to propaganda! i too wanted to be cool as fuck. i spent years with deteriorating function in my hand for reasons that are still unknown, was misdiagnosed and medically neglected to the point that removing my hand seemed to be the only option left to offer some relief, and even that was a clusterfuck that left me worse than ever… of course i wanted to believe in the power and prestige of a cool robot arm that fiction promised me.

but fiction promises fantastical lies. and so.

we get to the writing advice portion of the novella that is this post. you asked for advice on how to write a disabled character with an upper limb prosthesis. you've read the tl;dr, you've read everything above i assume, you know i don't want you to do it. the obvious twist is that it's been writing advice all along, me trying to share my perspective on what it's like being an amp with a robot arm and how shitty it is, implying how almost any fully realised and realistic character that's missing an upper limb would give up on a prosthesis at all. you can already tell that every value judgement in me says "don't give her a prosthesis, no matter how functional or cool you make it. don't try to make the tech better to justify it, just let her be one armed, one handed. just let her be disabled, but not helpless. let her show off her elbow or underarm carry strength. let her love interest appreciate how soft and squishy her residual limb is in a moment of tenderness. let her natural disabled body be respected and valued."

but that's a personal value judgement from me, and you are the author of your own work. i know it's trite to say, but you are! even the act of deferring to someone with lived experience in the hope of doing a better job at representation is a value judgement, a good choice in my opinion, but one you needn't necessarily take. maybe you do want to write a character that has a cool as fuck unrealistic robot arm as a power fantasy, or a comfort blanket… i did.

i've been slowly writing my own probably terrible scifi epic for over a decade now, and when my arm was giving me hell back then, i'd take great comfort in this fantasy of my protagonist with her chunky robot arm, the terrible traumatic suffering of her loss, overcoming, the power and ability her advanced prosthesis gives her over others, that she alone has access to, because others are not willing to make the sacrifices required. inspiration porn. awful stuff to me now, but empowering to me then. as i grew and gained direct experience, i slowly reimagined her, rewrote her, ship of theseus'd her into an entirely new character; a reflection of me now, bitter at the whole thing, spiteful that her natural flesh arm evokes fear and distrust, but unwilling to suffer the pain and frustration of her unnatural prosthesis just to make others comfortable and respect her as "whole", however artificial that whole is. and as with the ship of theseus being two ships, once i realised the transformation, i re-added the old protagonist back in whole cloth as a separate character; proud of her robot arm and its power, but in new context, as a foil and antagonist, an in-universe military prosthesis propaganda figure to reflect how i now feel characters like her exist to us, the readers.

i'm not just sharing that as egotistical self promotion, but to highlight that, even if i sit here begging you all up and down not to write characters with robot arms for how bad and unrealistic they are; there's still something genuine and true that their inclusion can say. the great thing about the story that you're writing is that only you can write it, as they say. but i whole heartedly believe that to write to your best, you have to be aware of what you're writing and why. as tempting as it is to feel these characters form naturally in us and therefore we're averse to changing traits about them that feel organic and self evident; as authors we have omnipotent control over the text, every trait and detail is a reflection on us, so we'd sure as hell better understand why we're choosing to write a character with this trait. because anything you write without being aware of intent will take on its own meaning in the space between.

and on that note, if i don't say this, i'm leaving it to be inferred: i definitely don't want to appear to come down on the side of saying "you cannot write an amputee unless you are one", because we are rarer than single young bisexual unicorns! and it would be a tragedy if anyone read through all this and then turned away in fear, deciding to never write an amputee character (with or without robot arm) because they feel they can't do it justice… believe me, no matter what anyone says, some hack writer somewhere is going to keep writing adam jensens and winter soldiers. don't let them be the only voices in fiction! just try to do your best.

so my ultimate advice on the topic of writing a character with a prosthetic limb is to ask yourself one question in two different frameworks, and meditate on what you feel the answer is:

why does she have a prosthesis?

from a doylelist perspective as the kids say, as an author with omnipotent control, why are you choosing to write about this topic? why are you choosing to give this trait to this character? what does it say about how you view ability and disability, what makes a person normal, and what our society values? will you let her be in her natural body? or will you give her a prosthesis, force her to wear it by authorial fiat, or author her a meaningful reason to choose to? if yes, be sure you know; why did you give her a prosthesis?

and from a wastonian perspective, diegetically, inside the story, why does she choose to wear a prosthesis? what does it say about her inner character, and how she interacts with the world? how does she feel about doing it, is she prideful and loves the attention she gets, or does she resent whatever necessitates its use? how do people in this world view ability and disability, what does this society value? and above all, whatever the answer to these questions, whether or not she uses a prosthesis or is badass without one, how does she deal with the eternal freezing cold that every amputee ever feels constantly in their residual limb and why does nobody make a heat pack that fits over a nub without drafty gaps???

i can't outright tell you how to write a good upper limb amputee, but if you at least know why you're writing one and for what purpose, you're on track to write the best character that you can. that's the best advice i can give… other than, like, this whole rambly mess.

and, as a reward for reading this far, please have a very blurry cryptid photo of my cat doing his old man sit:

[oakiyo]

Evergreen Collection:

Initially inspired by the TikTok ‘clean girl’ aesthetic, I present 8 new pieces of custom content! Drawing inspiration from the iconic ZARA jacket, to parachute cargos, and the sleek bun seen countless of times on social media, I intended on making some essentials for your sims game, whilst also branching out and experimenting with different styles. I hope you enjoy this collection!🧥🌲

Information about each item is underneath the cut.

Download Here | Patreon | Twitter

Item Information (left to right):

1. Tiffany Hair:

Base game compatible, 24 EA swatches, all maps, all LOD’s, hat compatible.

2. Alex Beanie:

Base game compatible, 20 swatches, all maps, all LOD’s.

20 swatches in a custom palette.

3. Serenity Sweater:

Base game compatible, 20 swatches, all maps, all LOD’s.

20 swatches in a custom palette.

4. Regina Jeans:

Base game compatible, 21 swatches, all maps, all LOD’s.

21 swatches in @caelhinn Cotton Jar palette.

5. Liv Parachute Cargos:

Base game compatible, 20 swatches, all maps, all LOD’s.

20 swatches in a custom palette.

6. Brie Jacket:

Base game compatible, 10 leather swatches, all maps, all LOD’s.

Sweater accessory found in gloves category with 20 swatches in a custom palette.

7. Belle Earrings:

Base game compatible, 6 metal swatches, all maps, all LOD’s.

8. Layla Hair:

Base game compatible, 24 EA swatches, all maps, all LOD’s, hat compatible.

Bandanna accessory file found in hats category to recolour in 20 swatches in a custom palette.

Credits and End Bits:

Please report any issues you have with this collection (or any custom content of mine) via a Tumblr direct message, including photos of your issue.

A massive thank you to @qicc for the continued help and support with my custom content endeavours, it is greatly appreciated!

Thank you to @greenllamas for helping (and teaching me) with the texturing.

Thank you guys very much for the continued support you have shown me, it’s truly unbelievable! I hope you enjoy this collection as much as I do. It was a real labour of love making this and I am so happy with the end results!

If you use any of my custom content, please tag me or use “#oakiyo”, I’d love to see your sims wearing my stuff!

[vestaignis]

Большая голубая дыра находится в водах на территории государства Белиз. Поскольку данное углубление самое большое среди подобных, ЮНЕСКО внесло ее в перечень всемирного наследия, которое подлежит охране. Большая голубая дыра - круглая воронка правильной формы на дне океана, которая образовалась естественным путем. Ее диаметр 305 м, а глубина – 120 м. Учетные связывают ее образование с затоплением системы известняковых пещер, произошедшем при поднятии океана после последнего ледникового периода. Со временем их своды обвалились, и образовалась воронка.

До сравнительно недавнего времени существовала более романтичная версия ее образования. Якобы это огромный сосуд, в котором люди древних цивилизаций хранили что-то весьма ценное. Этот миф развеял Ж.-И. Кусто, который подтвердил теорию естественного образования дыры.

Это место очень любят дайверы: оно входит в 10 лучших мест для такого рода активностей. Чтобы совершить погружение, надо проплыть 96 км, что займет до 2 часов, поэтому сюда надо добираться на катере. Их прокат в местном порту Сан-Педро очень популярная услуга. Погружаясь в кратер, любители приключений могут посетить затопленные пещеры со сталактитами и сталагмитами. Нужно быть очень осторожными: система пещер весьма запутанная и легко можно заблудиться: второе, неофициальное, название, которое заслужило это место – Кладбище дайверов.

Тем, кому интересна фауна, а также ныряльщикам с недостаточным опытом погружения, стоит оставаться в относительной близости к поверхности, где рыбы ведут активный образ жизни. Этот слой не превышает 30 метров. В воде можно наблюдать за морскими черепахами, безобидными акулами-няньками, груперами, морскими окунями и другими более мелкими рыбами. Такая глубина вполне комфортна для ныряльщиков – температура не опускается ниже 24 °C.

На нее стоит посмотреть с высоты: завораживающее зрелище. Поэтому для состоятельных туристов устраивают вертолетные экскурсии. А для совсем экстремалов – прыжок с парашютом над Дырой.

The Great Blue Hole is located in the waters of the state of Belize. Since this depression is the largest of its kind, UNESCO has included it in the list of world heritage sites that are subject to protection. The Great Blue Hole is a round funnel of regular shape on the ocean floor, which was formed naturally. Its diameter is 305 m, and its depth is 120 m. Accountants associate its formation with the flooding of a system of limestone caves, which occurred when the ocean rose after the last ice age. Over time, their arches collapsed, and a funnel was formed.

Until relatively recently, there was a more romantic version of its formation. Allegedly, this is a huge vessel in which people of ancient civilizations kept something very valuable. This myth was dispelled by J.-Y. Cousteau, who confirmed the theory of the natural formation of the hole.

This place is very popular with divers: it is among the 10 best places for this kind of activity. To dive, you need to swim 96 km, which will take up to 2 hours, so you need to get here by boat. Their rental in the local port of San Pedro is a very popular service. Diving into the crater, adventure lovers can visit flooded caves with stalactites and stalagmites. You need to be very careful: the cave system is very confusing and it is easy to get lost: the second, unofficial, name that this place has earned is the Divers' Cemetery.

Those who are interested in fauna, as well as divers with insufficient diving experience, should stay relatively close to the surface, where the fish lead an active lifestyle. This layer does not exceed 30 meters. In the water, you can observe sea turtles, harmless nurse sharks, groupers, groupers and other smaller fish. This depth is quite comfortable for divers - the temperature does not fall below 24 ° C.

It is worth looking at it from above: a fascinating spectacle. That is why helicopter excursions are arranged for wealthy tourists. And for the most extreme ones – a parachute jump over the Hole.

Источник://megapozitiv.com/bolshaja-golubaja-dyra-beliz-foto-interesnye-fakty-video.html,/tourweek.ru/gallery/sight/great-blue-hole/latest,/planetofhotels.com/guide/ru/beliz/beliz-siti/bolshaya-golubaya-dyra,/pogovorim.by/19122-bolshaya-golubaya-dyra-bereg-beliz-karibskoe-more-nauka-zhak-kusto.html,/omyworld.ru/6385.

[hboww2rewatch]

Welcome to HBO's WWII Fandom Rewatch!

You are cordially invited to join us in watching Band of Brothers, The Pacific, and Masters of the Air in chronological order April 29 - July 14, 2024.

We will be watching three episodes a week and will have prompts to boost fandom creation as we watch together!

You can find the episode schedule and prompts below the cut. Individual posts can be found here and here if you prefer shorter posts.

If you are unable to watch the show at the same time as the schedule, no worries. While we are personally planning to liveblog together the episodes per the schedule, we understand everyone has lives outside of tumblr. Watch whenever you are able - our goal is to bond over our love for these shows and experience them again together. Pop in when you are able! :)

Please tag all your posts during this event with #hboww2rewatch and give us a follow for all updates on the rewatch.

Please reblog this post to spread the word!

Schedule:

We are tentatively planning to watch Tuesday, Thursday, and Saturdays, but that is not set in stone - watch when you are able during the week!

Week 1: Mon April 29- Sun May 5

The Pacific E1  (Dec ‘41- Oct ‘42) The Pacific E2  (Oct ‘42) The Pacific E3  (Dec ‘42- Fall ‘43)

Week 2: Mon May 6- Sun May 12

Masters of the Air E1  (Spring ‘43) Masters of the Air E2  (Spring ‘43) Masters of the Air E3   (Aug ‘43)

Week 3: Mon May 13- Sun May 19

Masters of the Air E4 (Oct ‘43) Masters of the Air E5 (Oct ‘43) Masters of the Air E6 (Oct ‘43)

Week 4: Mon May 20- Sun May 26

The Pacific E4  (Dec ‘43) Masters of the Air E7  (march ‘44) Band of Brothers E1  (June ‘44)

Week 5: Mon May 27- Sun June 2

Masters of the Air E8  (June ‘44) Band of Brothers E2  (June 6, ‘44) Band of Brothers E3  (June 7, ‘44)

Week 6: Mon June 3- Sun June 9

The Pacific E5  (Sept ‘44) Band of Brothers E4  (Sept ‘44) The Pacific E6  (Sept-Oct ‘44)

Week 7: Mon June 10- Sun June 16

Band of Brothers E5  (Oct ‘44) The Pacific E7  (Oct-Dec ‘44) Band of Brothers E6  (Dec ‘44)

Week 8: Mon June 17- Sun June 23

Band of Brothers E7  (Jan ‘45) Band of Brothers E8  (Feb ‘45) The Pacific E8  (Feb ‘45)

Week 9: Mon June 24- Sun June 30

Band of Brothers E9  (April ‘45) The Pacific E9  (April-June ‘45) Masters of the Air E9  (Feb-June ‘45)

Week 10: Mon July 1- Sun July 7

Band of Brothers E10  (May-Aug ‘45) The Pacific E10  (Aug ‘45) Saving Private Ryan (Bonus event)

Week 11: Mon July 8- Sun July 14 - post rewatch events to encourage fellow fans!

Reblog people’s creations

Leave comments on fics

Consider making a new friend in someone else who participated

Prompts:

Week 1: Mon April 29- Sun May 5:

Heading Out

First Fight

Friends

Orange

Week 2: Mon May 6- Sun May 12:

Crash

Crew

Superstition

Blue

Week 3: Mon May 13- Sun May 19:

Dancing

Reunion

Kinship

Red

Week 4: Mon May 20- Sun May 26:

Recuperation

Camp Life

Training

Green

Week 5: Mon May 27- Sun June 2:

Tuskeegees

Parachute

Injured

Purple

Week 6: Mon June 3- Sun June 9

Reunited

Replacement

Airfield

White

Week 7: Mon June 10- Sun June 16:

Typewriter

Loss

Cold

Pink

Week 8: Mon June 17- Sun June 23:

Shelling

Translation

Wedding

Brown

Week 9: Mon June 24- Sun June 30:

Discovery

Humanity

Celebration

Yellow

Week 10: Mon July 1- Sun July 7:

Bonding

Adjustment

Sacrifice

Dress Uniform

Black

Week 11 Mon July 8- Sun July 14:

Favorite Crew

Favorite Company

Best Friendship

Humor

Underrated Character

Character + Quote

Headcanons

Crossover

Something Missing

[lilacargent]

How cold is too cold?

The Quelec had been left alone after their adamant refusal to join the Conclave. This draconian looking species viewed most other creatures as lesser, which made the conclave just as happy to ignore the Quelec and their nearly uninhabitable icy planet.

It didn’t take long before the Prideful creatures couldn’t stand being put to the side like they didn’t matter. Requesting a diplomatic convoy to reopen the conversation was only a ploy to take them hostage and issue ridiculous demands to capture the Conclaves attention.

It is now that a conclave mother ship is hanging just out of orbit to make a plan to get them back. Above a massive map of the icy landscape with one thin line of forest across its median, the three crews tasked with the retrieval are discussing loudly.

“No they can sense electrical currents, and any blast from their breath weapons will shut down our vehicles.” The tall bipedal alien that looks remarkably like a yeti yells at the other people around the table ‘going in with a full frontal attack is going to get everyone killed and if they don’t the cold will. The hostages are held at this planets south pole, which functions as a great prison because of its insane cold!’ The group of Lokachs (a more serpent like alien) hiss at the hostile tone ‘ssssoo far you have not gotten a better idea. Perhaps think for yourself Loquacious.’ When a fight is about to break out the human mediator steps forward. Followed by a tall bearded man and a woman dressed in remarkably non uniform clothes, with markings on her face. ‘No fighting here, they send all of us because we have different experiences with the cold. You, Loquacious of the Relokip, can keep your internal temperatures high like the Quelec can but you’re saying they can sense how you do that?’ the second in command responds ‘Captain Drissum, sir. We generate static electricity in our fur and change it through our nerve system into heat. But the energy will set off the sense of the Quelec.’ With a slow nod Marcus will gesture to the people with him ‘We specifically picked people from a cold climate with generations of experience for this mission: Katjuk from the united Inuit tribes, and Bjørn from the high north and re-established viking society. After many humans left the planet because space travel became widely available the sudden climate changes from the departure of all these people caused an ice age to some degree. All of a sudden skills their people had perfected over generations became increasingly valuable, now they come to share this with us.’

Stepping into the middle of the group Katjuk is the first to speak, ‘we have means to travel the icy tundra without alerting the Quelec, and my friend and his crew have the skills and weapons to protect us during this track. The air is almost good for us the only dangerous aspect is the sulfur and a simple respirator will fix this without using electricity.’ Loquacious lets out a loud bellowing laugh ‘How in the eternal universe are you going to survive the cold without your electricity run suits then? And if you people are soooo cool why do you need us?!’ Marcus just facepalms and Bjørn shoulders past him towering above most people here, but only at eye hight with Loquacious ‘Unless you want us to drop you at the surface with us, you get to sit in your pretty ships and shoot up the other pole and if you are actually brave you can make a bigger splash by going into orbit and making sure they leave their hidey holes.’ kitjak pulls out several packages of fabric and shows one of them to the groups ‘these are a type of clothes our ancestors have used to keep warm in horrible cold, we are going to use them now to do the same. Now on how to get on the planet we are going to do a dead drop, with parachutes. No electricity involved.’ With a thoughtful expression the elder woman looks at the main Lokach, ‘we are going to need your biggest stealth ship, i have been told that it can start up with unheard of speeds almost straight up, is that correct? If so we would need it dropped with us, it is going to be our way out, hopefully it is too quick for the Quelec to respond and we can be picked ultimately outside of orbit.’ Taking a step forward the male bows his head ‘thisss iss the cassse indeed, how do you know it exists?’ Marcus laughs ‘we know most things, but that is not the point now.’ Seemingly having decided that the other groups knew all they needed the humans start speaking with eachother about how they are going to time all of it.

After the fact Loquacious recounts with stunned admiration to the Conclave ‘they dropped down from our highspeed ships with 30 creatures they call dogs, specifically trained to pull sleds and run in packs. The sleds flew over the icy landscape with no regard for the cold. Once they arrived at the strong hold Bjørns men put on spikes on their feet, ropes all around them and scaled the walls like it was nothing. Somehow it took no more than 30 minutes for them to return with the hostages, dropping them down with the ropes like they weighed nothing. Immediately being clothed by Kitjacks group put on the sleds, to return at breakneck speeds.’ Loquacious is silent for a bit when Ilsop (the head Lokach) speaks up ‘with no regard for their own safety they returned the people to the ship we had dropped in the forest line, the dogs are trained to not fear anything their people will tell them to do. There was no sign of exhaustion on these creatures, i believe they would have been able to walk so much further.’ Shocked faces all around look to the massive windows overlooking the internal park of this garden world where a dozen humans are playing with dangerous predators without a fear in the world.

The humans will always find a way.

Outside Bjørn is speaking with Kitjak ‘You know it wasnt even that cold, a Canadian would have worn shorts’ Laughing loudly the woman agrees.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Tadah

As this is not my culture i did a lot of research, if i have represented things wrong please tell me. Because of that i have remained vague on certain aspects i could not find clear info on.

This took a bit but in response to @caffineandsugar s request for nordic/inuit/ scandinavian focussed.

[winchestershiresauce]

Dandelion Wine

Summary: When Halsin joins Gale and Tav in the bedroom for the first time, they all get more than they bargained for. This is a tale of intimacy, multiple orgasms, and trying new things.

Gale x f!Tav x Halsin; Halsin x f!Tav; Gale x Halsin; Gale x f!Tav

7851 words

Warnings: NSFW, Explicit Smut, M/F, M/M, polyamory, oral sex (f and m receiving), squirting, unprotected PIV, processing trauma, insecurity, discomfort interrupting sex, come eating, so much more

A/N: I think I left a piece of my soul in this fic - let me know if you like it! Comments and reblogs always much appreciated.

--

The first time Halsin joins them, Gale insists that he only wants to watch. Despite being intellectually on board with multiple relationships, he’s worried that his body will remain firmly in the monogamous camp. He loves Tav, and he trusts her with every fiber of his being, but it still feels overwhelming and a bit scary to imagine sharing such a vulnerable experience with anyone other than her. Hells, he still finds himself feeling self-conscious in his most intimate moments with her, through no fault of her own.

Before Halsin arrives, Gale paces back and forth through the room. He and Tav have discussed seemingly every aspect of the situation to death and back, but he still feels like he is about to jump from great heights with no backup parachute.

Tav walks into their room at the inn with an armful of water carafes and fruit. When she sees the tension in Gale’s body, his shoulders nearly at his ears, her smile fades to a look of concern. He’s thankful that it’s not a look of pity – he’s not sure he could handle that at this moment – but a loving glance with worry behind her eyes.

“I’m afraid they’ll charge us extra for damages if you wear a hole in the floor with your pacing.” She sets the drinks and snacks down on the table in the corner and strides over to where he’s now frozen in place.

“I’m sorry, my love. I know that we’ve been planning this for weeks but I can’t help but find myself feeling terribly nervous. Granted, I’m also excited. I want to see how everything will go, but the nerves won’t settle.” Tav brushes a strand of hair out of his face and tucks it behind his ear. He melts into her touch.

“My silly wizard, there is nothing to apologize for. It’s perfectly natural to be both excited and nervous about something, especially something that’s so new to you! In fact, I’d be more concerned if you weren’t nervous at all. This is a big step and no matter how it goes, some things will change. However, I need you to remember that your comfort and security are just as important as mine and Halsin’s, so I need to be sure that you’ll speak up if you want anything to stop or slow down.” Gale sighs and takes her hands into his. His thumb strokes over the soft skin of her knuckles as he ponders his reply.

“I will, I promise. I believe that you and I have practiced enough that I can say what needs to be said in the moment. I know how to stop things and I will do so if necessary.” He brings their hands up to his mouth and places the softest of kisses to each individual knuckle on her left hand. “I don’t want to back out of this if you’re worried about that,” he adds.

“And if you did want to back out, that would be more than fine! There are plenty of other things we could do while we’re here that don’t involve potentially opening partially healed wounds in the name of sexual exploration.” There’s a slight tease in her tone, but he knows she’s sincere. He’s always admired the way that she can still use humor in any situation without taking away from the significance.

“I know, and thank you. I want to reiterate that I want this, I merely need a bit more reassurance than I expected to.”

“Good thing I brought extra, then.” She grins. He’s not sure he’ll ever get over the butterflies in his belly when she looks at him with such kindness and love. She’s the first person – unless you count Tara – that he knows loves him for every aspect of himself and not just his intellect or what he can do for her. Somehow, she looks his flaws right in the face and draws them into her heart.

Just then, there's a knock at the door. Tav doesn't move to answer it yet, searching Gale's face for any minute reaction. “Do you want me to tell him to wait? I need to make sure you're in the right headspace before he comes in.”

“I appreciate the sentiment, but I'm okay. I'm ready. I’ll let him in.” Gale places a kiss on Tav’s forehead and glides over to the door. When he opens it and sees the calm and patient smile on the elf’s face, Tav notices how the tension dissolves from his body.

“Gale! You look well!” Halsin claps a hand on Gale’s shoulder and gives him a reassuring squeeze. A grin spreads across the wizard’s face as his body remembers how calm he tends to feel in Halsin’s presence. There's something about the other man that makes Gale feel secure and cared for, which helps many of his worries dissipate.

“As do you, my friend,” Gale greets him and steps aside to let him stride into the room. Halsin approaches Tav, and Gale is surprised that the look of joy and reverence on her face does not spur jealousy but instead spreads warmth through his chest. He adores being on the receiving end of such a look, and he is glad to find that he loves it all the same no matter who brought that look to her face.

Halsin towers over Tav, resting the heel of his hand on her collarbone so that his fingers brush the side of her neck and his thumb can trace the shape of her jaw. “My heart,” he purrs, locking eyes with her as if gazing into her very soul.

She presses her palm against his chest and feels his heart beating strongly beneath her touch. She’s always amazed how he can remain so calm in the face of anything, so in tune with his own body that his control never seems to falter. Her eyes drift closed and he kisses her forehead, unknowingly mirroring the movements of her other lover moments ago.

“My bear.” She melts into him as he caresses the nape of her neck.

Gale watches them from the other side of the room and begins to feel a twinge of something in his gut. They look so happy and he can’t help but notice the way their bodies fit so well together and how natural their every movement looks. He sighs, lost in thought as his mind begins to drift toward the pattern of worry that had plagued him earlier. He’s sure that he wants to do this – wants to give Tav and Halsin a chance to let their intimacy blossom – but he can’t stop the complicated feelings swirling through him like smoke from smoldering embers.

Gale moves past them to make himself comfortable in the overstuffed armchair across from the bed. His arms rest awkwardly at his sides as he watches Halsin’s mouth cover Tav’s. She groans into the kiss, pressing herself firmly into the elf’s hold. Gale’s stirring anxieties and jealousies are interrupted by the slightest twitch of interest from his cock when he sees Halsin’s large hand spread across her ass and press her pelvis into his.

When Tav pulls away from the kiss, eyelids heavy and cheeks flushed, she lets out a deep sigh. The look of longing on Halsin's face is intoxicating and she can't believe that it's for her. She smiles up at him, arousal stirring deep within her. Before she gets lost in him, she knows she must check in with her wizard.

She pats Halsin’s chest once before setting her sights on Gale, biting her lip in an attempt to stop her from overthinking. Crawling into Gale’s lap, she puts her knees on either side of his hips and drapes her arms around his neck. Her eyes bounce back and forth between his before dotting a kiss to the tip of his nose. “Are you sure that you want this?” she asks. She can see him chewing on the inside of his cheek. “There's still time to change your mind.”

The nervousness on his face softens a bit as he does his best to read the look his partner is giving him. “I do want this, Tav. I want you to have fun.” He smiles.

“I want you to enjoy it too, though.” She twirls a strand of his hair around her finger as she scans his face for signs of discomfort.

“I will. I get to watch two of my favorite people get lost in each other in a way they haven't before.” His hands rest against her ribs, his thumbs rubbing against the fabric of her shirt in reassurance.

As she leans in close, her breath tickling the shell of his ear, he can’t resist moving his hands down to settle on her hips.

“Are you sure you just want to watch?” She nips at his earlobe and his fingers reflexively dig into her sides. She grins when she feels him begin to harden against her inner thigh, and Gale swallows heavily but nods.

“For now, yes.” She pulls back just far enough to catch his gaze and strokes her thumb across his cheekbone. He does his best to convey sincerity in his smile, his gaze refusing to waver.

“If at any point you change your mind, don’t hesitate to jump in.” She smirks. Tav scrapes her fingernails along the stubble of his beard on the underside of his jaw as she stands up, reveling in the blown pupils that stare up at her. She feels a hand snake around her waist and warmth envelop her as Halsin steps up behind her. He sets his chin on Tav’s shoulder and gazes down at the other man with a look that Gale can't quite place.

“Yes, please join in the fun if you feel at all inclined.” Halsin’s low, husky tone sends a shiver through Tav and to her core, but Gale feels it too. He can’t deny the way the sensual quality of Halsin’s voice affects him. Gale's eyes shift between their eager faces, and he nods.

“I certainly will, should the desire arise.” His smile is soft and genuine despite the nerves bubbling beneath the surface. Gale places his hand over Halsin’s on Tav’s hip and the two men share an understanding and intimate look.

Halsin pulls Tav back against him and begins peppering open-mouthed kisses all over her neck and shoulder. She strokes her thumb lovingly over the back of Gale’s hand as she feels herself melt into the elf’s hold. Arousal already blooming in her center, she spins in his arms and tangles her fingers into Halsin’s luscious locks. She crashes her lips against his with force. He takes short steps backwards toward the bed, dragging Tav along with him, his long fingers splayed across her lower back. Tav moans as she feels Halsin’s erection growing harder, chasing his pelvis with hers. He plops down onto the bed and pulls her immediately into his lap.

Gale’s eyes flit over the two of them and to each spot where their bodies touch, his mind attempting to process and catalogue all of the thoughts and sensations that run through him. Just moments ago, it had been his lap that she ground herself into. He could still feel the lingering warmth of her where she had pressed herself into him, and his fingers flex in response as if grabbing onto her. Watching Halsin’s mouth latch onto her throat, Gale groans at the sound that escapes her lips. His cock is more insistently calling for his attention, but he wants to wait until his head is on straight before addressing it.

Halsin pulls Tav’s top over her head and growls at the sight of her bare breasts hanging heavily in front of his face. His teeth skate across the skin of her chest and he sucks a nipple into his mouth, causing her to throw her head back in pleasure. Gale’s eyes darken as Halsin kneads her other breast roughly and she drags her clothed core over the large bulge in the front of his pants.

After a few moments of heavy petting, Halsin suddenly stands up, forcing Tav upright with him, and turns them around so that he can push her backwards onto the bed. She lays back and watches him through her lashes as he undoes the laces on her bottoms and pulls them off of her. Gale can’t help but groan as he sees her wetness glistening deliciously in the dim light when her thighs drift apart for the elf.

“My dear magic man, I have no idea how you ever leave that tower of yours when you have a woman this delectable in your bed.” Tav’s breath catches in her throat as Halsin gently caresses her bare thighs with his calloused fingers. He kneads the soft, supple skin there, licking his lips at the sight of her spread out before him. Eager to feel her skin against his, Halsin strips himself bare without much fanfare. Before he does anything more, he turns to address the man across the room: “What do you think, Gale, should I give her my tongue or my fingers first?”

Another groan escapes Gale’s lips and he presses the heel of his hand down into his growing erection, trying to relieve some of the tension and overcome the arousal that threatens to overtake him. “She prefers– t-tongue,” he answers, his voice nearly failing him.

When Halsin suddenly drops to his knees at the end of the bed, pulls Tav to the edge, and slides his tongue through her folds from hole to clit, Gale stops fighting the temptation and shoves his hand in his trousers to wrap around his needy cock. He knows how sweet she tastes and finds he loves getting to watch Halsin finally experience what he's long fantasized about.

Tav gasps at the immense pleasure of her lover’s practiced tongue as Halsin continues to work her over. He presses his face into her cunt like he'll never be able to get enough and sucks her clit into his mouth. It feels so good that she could pen sonnets, if only her brain were able to form words.

Her breaths come shallow and quick as he flicks the tip of his tongue over her sensitive bud, and Gale’s fist tightens painfully around his cock, still resisting the urge to stroke himself. He had expected it to eat him alive to see the love of his life squirming in pleasure on someone else's tongue, but he finds that he relishes taking notice of all of Tav’s subtle, delicious reactions to the way Halsin devours her.

Halsin hums and looks up at Tav from between her legs. Her eyelids are heavy and her mouth hangs open, unable to focus on anything but the delectable onslaught between her thighs. “How’s our wizard doing?” he asks her as his pointer finger teases around her slick entrance. He continues to lap at her wetness with his flattened tongue, but his eyes are watching her face. Her head lolls to the side, she looks over at Gale, and her breath catches at the sight of him.

Gale’s face is flushed, redness spread across his cheekbones, and his jaw is clenched. While one hand is shoved deep into his pants, shaking as he tries to hold back from pleasing himself, the other is balled up tightly against his thigh. He looks like he's halfway to being drunk but still wound so tight that he could easily snap.

“Good,” Gale answers before Tav can, his voice tight. Halsin glances his way and finally notices the way Gale is restraining himself. While holding eye contact with the other man, Halsin thrusts two fingers into Tav in one quick, smooth motion. Gale sees her body tense at the surprise of the pleasant intrusion and a shudder runs through him.

“You like what you see?” the druid asks, cocking an eyebrow. Gale nods and pink flushes up his neck and to his ears. Halsin flashes him a smile. “You don't have to hold back, you know.” Gale looks between them, assessing. “Even if you don't join us physically, we want you to be a part of things.” Gale is so turned on but his skin prickles with self-consciousness as their attention is directed at him. Tav props herself up on her elbows to get a better look while Halsin continues to stretch her open with his thick digits.

“Can I at least see what you're doing over there, my love?” Her mouth is agape from the pleasure coursing through her. Her words paired with the blissed-out, eager look on her face is enough to give Gale the confidence he needs to make himself more comfortable.

Tav watches, enraptured, as he stands from the chair and begins to remove his clothes. Despite his shyness, with two gorgeous sets of eyes on him, he takes his sweet time unbuttoning his shirt. The way neither of them can take their eyes off of every sliver of skin he reveals has him feeling powerful in ways he never expected.

As the fabric of his shirt pools on the floor at his feet, his fingers move to the laces on the front of his trousers. After they're unlaced, he slips his thumbs into the waistband and pauses as if considering his next move. Tav licks her lips in anticipation and Gale shoots her a small smirk before shucking them off in one motion. His aching cock springs free and stands at attention, though he suddenly feels a bit vulnerable and overexposed.

Tav notices the shift in his expression and sits up, ready to go to him, but Halsin speaks first. “Oak Father preserve me…” he sighs. “Aren't you a sight to behold?” Gale blushes at the praise and Tav settles back again, smiling at the way a flush of pink blooms through his chest. “Will you come over here so I can get a better look at you?”

Gale nods shyly and takes a few steps to approach where Halsin is crouched next to the bed. His eyes scan the scene before him: the light sheen of sweat glimmering on Halsin's skin, the slick wetness covering the fingers of his right hand where they pump in and out of Tav, and the thick heavy cock that juts out between Halsin's tree trunk thighs.

Gale's never been with a man before, but he thinks that if he'd met more men like Halsin, that may not have been the case. He salivates wondering what it might taste like to have the druid on his tongue. Would he be sweet and tangy like Tav? Wet and earthy like the forest after a rain shower? He longs to find out but isn't quite sure if he's ready yet. Feeling brave, he reaches out to brush a sweaty piece of hair off Halsin's forehead and the larger man brushes a kiss against the inside of Gale's wrist.

Gale turns his head toward Tav in an attempt to hide his blush from the man who caused it. She gives him a soft, encouraging smile but he's distracted by the continued movement of Halsin's fingers. Gale watches how they curl and rub inside of Tav and he reaches out to draw circles around her clit with his thumb.

“It's awfully difficult to look but not touch,” Gale explains, and Halsin chuckles.

“I know what you mean… Just look at the state of you.” Halsin nods to where Gale's cock twitches in delight, a bead of arousal escaping from the tip.

Gale feels like his brain short-circuits as it floods with images of the elf’s hands all over him. He wants it, wants it so bad he can hardly think of anything else, but the analytical side of his brain is whirring away, trying to figure out what it all means.

“You– you can touch me,” Gale whispers. Tav clenches around Halsin's fingers in anticipation and surprise, and she lets out a breath she didn't realize she was holding.

“Are you sure, Gale? It's only enjoyable if you really want it.” Halsin looks up at the wizard and attempts to read the look on his face. Gale looks nervous and pent up beyond belief, and Halsin knows he has to be prepared for a sudden change of heart. He won't deny the man what he wants, he'll simply make the environment as comfortable and conducive to experimentation as he can.

“I want you to touch me.” Gale pulls his hand away from Tav and sets it on Halsin's shoulder for stability. Halsin nods with a smile.

Halsin scissors his fingers inside Tav to coat them in her slick before he pulls them out of her. Gale watches his every movement and his throat tightens as he sees Halsin's hand, covered in her juices, moving in his direction. His eyes grow wide as he realizes what Halsin is going to do right before Halsin wraps his lubricated hand around Gale's shaft.

The warmth and wetness is overwhelming and Gale goes rigid. It feels so good and yet so foreign to have Halsin's hand on him that he's worried he might explode. His eyes slam closed and his grip on the elf’s shoulder tightens until his fingernails threaten to break skin as Halsin slowly strokes Gale's cock.

But it's too much.

He isn't ready. He wants to backtrack.

Halsin immediately picks up on the shift in Gale's demeanor and pulls his hand away.

“I'm sorry, I–” Gale stammers and Halsin pats his hip in reassurance. Tav sits up and takes one of Gale's hands in hers.

“There is no need for apologies,” Halsin replies, “It was too much too fast.” Gale nods and refuses to look at either of them, his cheeks burning with embarrassment.

“We can stop,” Tav adds, pressing a kiss to Gale's palm. He jerks his head to look at her.

“No! No, don't stop. I merely bit off more than I could chew for a moment, but please continue. I only need a moment, and then I want to watch you unravel for him.” Gale's eyes darken as he looks between the other two and Halsin’s cock throbs at his words.

“Then let's take a moment to ground ourselves and breathe,” Halsin suggests. He rests one hand on Tav’s thigh and the other hangs at his side, wanting to comfort Gale but not wanting to overwhelm him.

Tav’s fingertips delicately trace over the lines traversing Gale's palm. Gale closes his eyes and focuses only on her calming touch and his breathing. His other hand still rests on Halsin's shoulder, giving him a sense of stability. He finds himself wanting a comforting touch from the elf as well, but doesn't trust his body's reaction to the sensation.

As the three of them sit in silence, a tangle of soft intimate touches, Gale's breathing begins to slow. He tunes out the worries and focuses on the connection that he feels between them. Opening his eyes, he catches Tav’s gaze and a soft smile tugs at his lips. His thumb rubs over Halsin's shoulder before he moves it to cradle Tav’s face. Gale presses his forehead to hers and they melt into each other for a moment.

“I love you,” Gale murmurs. His lips find hers for a soft, lingering kiss that manages to communicate a sense of both trust and longing.

“I love you,” Tav replies. Foreheads pressed together, they stare into each other's eyes for a moment and take it all in.

Gale presses his mouth to hers again, gentle and chaste, before he turns back to Halsin. “Show her just what a powerful archdruid is capable of.” He shoots the other man a wink, claps him on the back, and starts to pad over to his chair.

“As you wish,” Halsin growls and presses his face into the junction of Tav’s thighs. She yelps in surprise as his tongue plunges between her folds, and she grabs the elf’s hair for support. Halsin wastes no time shoving three fingers into her tight, dripping pussy and her hips jerk against his face. His assault is relentless and she knows she won't last long as he fills her with his fingers and worships her clit with his tongue.

Gale groans at the delightful sounds that spill from her throat as he watches Tav squirm. A loud squelching fills the room as Halsin fucks her with his thick fingers. She's babbling, hardly able to string coherent sounds together, as the nerves throughout her body thrum with pleasure. As he alternates between open-mouthed kisses to her vulva and his tongue frantically flicking over her aching clit, he curls his fingers back toward himself inside her to rub harshly over the spot that makes her see stars. Her knees nearly give out as the dam suddenly breaks and she's coming.

A broken sob escapes from Tav as her whole body curls inward and her walls spasm around Halsin's fingers. Her juices spill over his chin and his hand and he just can't get enough. She's so wet and so sweet that it may as well be honey that gushes over his tongue as he laps up everything she gives him.

Gale's cock leaks as he watches the larger man nearly drown in the ecstasy that flows from Tav, and he digs his fingertips into the arms of the chair in an attempt to maintain his composure. As much as he wants to touch and be touched, he finds he takes immense pleasure in watching her fall apart. His favorite part of being intimate with Tav is getting to witness the way her composure crumbles when she's reached a certain point. In most areas of her life, she's so put together and eloquent that it's a special privilege to see her in such a raw state when she's hardly more than a babbling mess.

The sounds Halsin makes are animalistic as he works Tav through her climax. He's so engulfed in her that he thinks he'd crawl inside her if he could, just to feel her over every inch of him. When she gets too sensitive to handle his mouth on her anymore, she tugs on his hair to drag him back up to his feet. Immediately, his mouth is on hers as he guides her back toward the bed.

Something in Halsin has snapped and his gentle, loving caresses have been replaced with raw, primal need. Tasting herself on his lips and tongue does something similar to Tav and her hands are everywhere, needing to map every inch of him.

She pants hard, trying to catch her breath from an intense orgasm, as his body covers hers on the bed. His fingers tangle in her hair and he grips tightly, desperate to hold her close. His mouth moves from her lips to her jaw to her neck, kissing and sucking at every spot of skin in his reach. Her fingertips dig into his back, trying impossibly to bring him closer to her. She needs to touch him, taste him, feel him, but it's not enough.

Tav reaches between Halsin's legs and wraps her hand around his aching cock. Halsin growls at the sensation, his face buried in her neck. His hips thrust forward on their own accord, seeking more as she grips him and slides her soft palm over his sensitive shaft.

“Need to be inside you,” Halsin grunts, his careful composure gone for the moment.

“Please,” Tav whines, begging for him to fill her.

Gale spits into his hand, deciding that he'll give in and stroke himself at the moment Halsin's beautiful cock sinks into the tight wetness of Tav’s pussy.

Tav moves to guide Halsin to her center but she doesn't move fast enough for the desperate elf, so he reaches between them to grip himself tightly and line himself up with her hole, coating the head in her slick. He looks into her eyes, about to ask for confirmation, but she nods frantically and wraps her legs around the backs of his thighs, drawing him in.

The world melts around Halsin for a moment as he plunges into the depths of pleasure. Her warm wetness engulfs him and his senses, blocking out any coherent thought. Driven by primal instinct, he begins to thrust into her hard and fast.

Gale grips his desperate cock and imagines that it's Tav’s cunt squeezing him rather than his own spit-soaked hand. He matches his strokes to the rhythm of Halsin's thrusts and it feels like a thunderstorm is brewing under his skin. He watches the giant elf’s broad, sweaty body as his thick cock impales the woman Gale loves. All uncertainty leaves him when he sees the look of ecstasy and desperation on her face – Gale knows what she needs and he revels in the gasps and whimpers she makes as she gets it.

Tav grips Halsin’s hair in a tight fist, digs the fingernails of her left hand into the meat of his tricep, and cries out at the slight sting and immense pleasure of her overfilled cunt taking everything it’s given. She’s chanting fuck , and please , and yes over and over as Halsin pounds into her.

He’s so close, unable to handle much more as his nerves crackle at the energy between them. His heart is pounding so hard he can hear the blood rushing in his ears alongside the sound of flesh striking flesh and the wet suction of Tav’s cunt trying to hold him deep inside.

Between heavy breaths, Halsin groans, “Gonna come – Where?” Gale’s hand is moving frantically up and down his cock, adding his own slapping sounds to the mix, as he hurtles toward his own climax. He can't stop watching the way Halsin's length disappears inside her as her walls grip him.

“Inside me!” Tav cries out and the desperate desire in her voice pushes both Gale and Halsin over the edge. Halsin shoves himself as deep into her depths as he can, and he paints her insides with his seed. At the same moment, Gale’s balls tighten and his hand stills as ropes of come spurt from his cock to paint his abdomen.

The sensation of Halsin’s cock pulsing and filling her sends Tav into her second climax as she spasms dramatically around him. Her cunt squeezes him tight, milking every drop it can get from him. Tav’s thighs quiver and her body shakes under him as the waves of pleasure course through her and come out of her mouth as wanton moans.

Gale's head drops back against the back of the chair as he tries to catch his breath. He holds his slowly-softening manhood and tries not to think about the mess he's made of his lap.

Halsin peppers kisses all over Tav’s face and chest as she comes down from her high, and once she catches her breath, she loosens her grip on his hair and kisses him passionately. They're both sweaty and flushed and a bit sore, but they're lost in each other for a short while. She pushes back the hair plastered to Halsin's forehead and he looks at her with such love and adoration that her heart could burst. After a few long moments drinking each other in, Halsin looks over at Gale before turning back to Tav.

“Let me go check on Gale, my heart.” The druid strokes her cheek and places a quick kiss to the corner of her dopey smile. She nods and allows her limbs to fall to the bed like dead weight, letting the normal sensations slowly return back to her body.

Gale lifts his head and watches as Halsin pulls out of her with a wince and stands. He looks at Gale with softness and a touch of mischief in his eyes as he approaches. Halsin stands over the other man and assesses the scene in front of him: his flushed cheeks, his chest glistening with sweat, the sticky mess clinging to his skin.

Gale's cheeks burn as he mistakes the look in Halsin's eyes for judgment rather than interest. “I seem to have made a bit of a mess of myself,” he tells the elf with a self-conscious chuckle.

“That you have,” Halsin hums. “Is that why you blush, handsome wizard?” Gale looks down at the floor, avoiding Halsin's gaze. There are so many thoughts and feelings going through his head and he can’t quite grasp how to process or articulate them. Halsin puts a finger under Gale's chin and tips his face so that he looks up at him. “Are you embarrassed to have enjoyed yourself?” Gale swallows heavily.

Tav is tempted to listen to their conversation but stays out of it, happily giving them as much privacy as she can without moving. Her eyelids are getting heavy, and she can feel sleep call to her.

“Perhaps.” Gale's voice is quiet and he picks at a loose thread on the arm of the chair.

“Oh, Gale,” Halsin says. “You don't have anything to be embarrassed about.” This gets Gale to look up to him, though he looks incredulous.

“Don't I? Aren't I supposed to feel possessive over my partner? What kind of man am I to get pleasure from watching her be taken and claimed by another? Shouldn't I feel discomfort? Shouldn’t I want to intervene?” His mind is racing and the words are spilling out before he can filter them. Insecurities from his past begin to bubble up and, though he tries, he can’t cast them aside anymore.

Halsin smiles gently. “It would seem that you're the kind of man who enjoys seeing your love be happy and fulfilled. Did you feel discomfort?”

Gale pauses before answering, carefully considering and taking inventory of his mind. “I did feel discomfort at first, when I was thinking about it. I was worried about how I’d react once things started happening. I know that no matter how much you mentally prepare for something, you can never truly know what you’ll do until you’re in the situation. However, once you were here and it was real, I felt much calmer. I couldn’t help but to get aroused and that overrode my thinking, which allowed me to enjoy the experience and lean into the pleasure.” Halsin mulls over Gale’s words, contemplating their meaning. He knows that ultimately, Gale’s philosophies and morals come from very different sources from his own, and he takes that into consideration as he ponders how to frame his response.

“I believe that nature itself gave us the capability to be complex and ever-changing beings, and that includes every facet of our sexuality. Whether we’re monogamous or opposed to it, or somewhere in between, is deeply personal and potentially dynamic. It’s natural to fall anywhere on that spectrum, and it’s natural for your needs and wants to shift based on circumstances. If you enjoyed yourself, and everyone involved both fully consented and enjoyed themselves, why should there be shame? What purpose would that shame serve?”

Gale sits in silence for a moment as he processes. He thinks deeply, his thoughts branching off into a thousand different directions as he tries to break it down like any other intellectual endeavor. Some parts are quick to click into place in his mind, while others are more difficult to understand and internalize. “I can concede that you make some very good points, but I have to wonder about others. In the past, with Mystra, she sought other lovers and I did not enjoy that in the slightest. Why would that be different now? Could the difference be that I somehow love Tav less than I did Mystra? That I feel less afraid to lose her and thus am less emotionally reactive?”

Halsin can’t help but chuckle that someone with such an immense breadth of knowledge can be so disconnected from the inner workings of his own mind. “Oh, Gale. You wizards certainly do enjoy overcomplicating things, don't you? Could it not instead mean that you’re less afraid to lose her because you feel secure in your relationship with Tav, whereas with Mystra you did not?”

Gale ponders that, his mind running through the different instances when Mystra found pleasure in the arms of another and comparing them to the instances when he'd discussed the same with Tav. “With Mystra, it wasn't a conversation or a choice. She told me that was how it was going to be and who was I to argue with my goddess? Her word was final and if I wanted to be with her, I had to find a way to deal with her decisions on my own–”

“I think you know that's not how a partnership is meant to be.” Halsin’s response is curt and leaves little room for argument, which manages to trigger Gale’s deep-seeded reflex to defend Mystra. He stops himself, however, as he recognizes what is happening and it surprises him.

“I suppose intellectually, I do.” Gale sighs and continues, “Things with Mystra were also different in that I was not allowed the same courtesy. While I may not have wanted to be with anyone other than her, the fact of the matter is that I would have never been allowed to be. That is, as you’re well aware, not the case with Tav.”

“Indeed, and I think those differences are enough to make this an entirely different situation. Do you?”

Gale takes in Halsin’s words and the comforting, understanding look in his eyes, and he nods. He respects the druid’s judgment, knowing it comes from many years of experience. The way he’s explained it allows the rational side of Gale’s brain to connect with the emotional side. Halsin knows what he’s talking about.

“Is there someone else you'd like to be with now, Gale?” Halsin asks tentatively.

Gale sucks in a sharp breath and looks back up at Halsin. He’s somehow surprised that the conversation has taken this turn and, despite everything he’s just bared to the other man, he tries to steel himself against the impulse to hide or deflect. He shies away from the feeling of Halsin gazing into his soul and closes his eyes before answering, “I– I’d like to be with you, Halsin. Or at least give it a try.”

The room is silent for a moment and Gale opens his eyes again. A soft smile spreads across the druid’s face in response as he takes in how open and exposed the wizard looks. Not even taking into account the fact that he’s sitting naked in front of him, the look on Gale's face is one of pure vulnerability. It’s clear that it’s not easy for him to put himself out there like this.

“I had hoped you'd say that, Gale Dekarios.” Halsin caresses the stubble on Gale's jawline with his thumb, basking in the way his eyes sparkle as he looks up at the taller man.

“You did?” Gale’s voice sounds surprised.

“Of course I did,” Halsin chuckles. He crouches down to bring himself to Gale’s level, at least physically, and gazes intently into the man's eyes. “I may have to question your wisdom if you claim to be unaware of my attraction to you.”

Gale can’t help but laugh, blushing furiously but thankful that the other man has lightened the moment. His gentle teasing breaks the tension, much like when Tav does the same. “I suppose I can admit that I've noticed some signals from you.” He glances away, feeling exposed in the intensity of Halsin's gaze, before continuing, “In my defense, you are such an open, comfortable, and confident man that it can be difficult to discern what is genuine interest and what is just you being, well, you.”

He reaches out to touch the larger man but hesitates as he isn’t sure where to start. When Halsin grins, Gale brushes the tip of his thumb over his bottom lip, marveling at how it feels to touch him while the broad elf looks at him with adoration and hunger. His lip is soft and plush, and Gale wants to feel it everywhere. Halsin purses his lips and kisses the pad of Gale’s thumb, causing the human’s breath to catch in his throat. “Kiss me,” Gale whispers.

Of course, Halsin immediately obliges. Before the words are fully out of his mouth, Halsin runs his fingers through Gale's soft waves and presses his palm against the back of his head. Halsin gently guides Gale's face toward his, slow enough to give him plenty of chances to change his mind and pull away, and presses his lips against the lips of the younger man.

Gale kisses him back sweetly and then not-so-sweetly, as his mouth drifts open to allow Halsin to deepen the kiss. His tongue slips over Gale's tongue, massaging the strong muscle. Gale tastes Tav’s juices on Halsin's tongue and it stirs something in him. His hands begin scrabbling for purchase, desperate to get a good grip and pull the elf closer, nearly dragging Halsin into his lap. He hungers for him, eager to explore every nook and cranny of Halsin's mouth with his tongue.

Gale's breathing is ragged as the two men get lost in each other. They move to stand to get closer to one another, and Gale shudders at the way Halsin's hand nearly dwarfs his face when it cups his jaw. The smaller man's fingertips dig into the elf's thick biceps as he fails to resist grinding their hips together.

Halsin's pupils are blown wide as he takes in the uncharacteristic neediness of the wizard. He wants so badly to make the less experienced man feel good, so he slides down to his knees and gazes up at Gale.

Gale lets out another shuddering breath as he attempts to process the scene in front of him: he's seen Tav in this position countless times and it never gets old, but the novelty of seeing a powerful archdruid on his knees for him is nearly overwhelming.

“May I?” Halsin asks softly after what feels like ages. Unable to trust his voice, Gale meekly nods.

Halsin runs his hands up Gale's thighs, callused fingers catching on the soft hair there, and places a single kiss on Gale's pelvic crest. He looks up at the brunette to gauge his reaction and the reverent look on his face encourages Halsin to continue. He leaves gentle pecks across Gale's soft belly, undeterred by the partially-dry spendings that coat his skin. Halsin drags his tongue across a particularly bountiful river of Gale’s spend before sucking it into his mouth, delighting in the taste of his essence. He continues to suck at the skin there, leaving a mark on the flesh, just a hair west of where Gale needs his mouth the most. Gale’s wound so tightly that Halsin can feel the tension where he touches him as he continues to place teasing kisses across the wizard’s navel and groin.

“Please,” Gale whines and Halsin’s cock jumps at the sound. The elf’s mouth hovers over the other man’s length, his hot breath caressing Gale’s hardness. The man’s hands rest on Halsin’s shoulders but clench into fists as he tries to resist pulling Halsin’s face closer.

Prolonging the torture, Halsin’s hands dance across Gale’s skin until they settle over his hips. Halsin locks eyes with Gale, smirking, and just as the desperate man is about to beg him to do something, anything , he slips Gale’s aching cock into his mouth in one fluid motion. The tension in Gale’s muscles doubles as his senses are overloaded with pleasure. Halsin’s mouth is hot and wet as he sucks Gale down until his nose is pressed into Gale’s coarse brown curls. The wizard’s legs nearly give out as his body begins to relax in response to the chorus of wondrous sensations.

Gale lets out a stream of curses under his breath as Halsin’s mouth begins to move over him. His tongue slides along the underside of Gale’s cock and the less experienced man can’t help but tangle his fingers into the druid’s long hair. He begins babbling, narrating the sensations he’s feeling and heaping praise onto the kneeling man, when he sees Tav stir out of the corner of his eye. Not wanting to wake her, he digs his front teeth into his lip to keep his voice at bay, but the monologue of nonsense continues to run through his head.

Halsin bobs his head, licking and sucking Gale like a man starved, and Gale’s hips begin moving on their own accord. He takes everything Gale is willing to give him as he works the wizard over, and he doesn’t even flinch when Gale suddenly thrusts forward, tenses, and spurts come down his throat. The elf slows his movements, greedily swallowing every drop that the other man releases and working Gale through his peak.

As Gale becomes to sensitive to handle the sensation anymore, Halsin pulls his mouth off of him but otherwise makes no attempt to move from his position. Gale breathes deeply, grounding himself by running his fingers through the druid’s soft yet tangled hair. Halsin moves to stand, caressing Gale’s sides as he does so. The room quiet around them, they stand in comfortable silence for a few moments and just breathe. Gale’s fingers are still in Halsin’s hair, Halsin’s hands rest on Gale’s hips as if stabilizing him, and they gaze into each other’s eyes. Gale doesn’t know what to say, simultaneously wanting to process everything and not wanting his mind to drift away from the current moment.

“I think it’s time to get some rest,” Halsin suggests.

“But what about you? Do you want me to return the favor?” Gale asks, his mind suddenly trying to fill in his understanding of the expected etiquette of the situation. Halsin chuckles and strokes the wizard’s cheek.

“We can save that for next time. Right now, I think Tav’s got the right idea.” They both glance over to where she lays, nude and sprawled across the bed, only one leg under the covers. An adoring smile creeps over Gale’s face as he watches her shift in her sleep. He turns back to Halsin and his eyes flit over the elf’s face, carefully cataloging every freckle, dimple, and wrinkle.

“Let me get cleaned up and then I’ll join you two,” Gale says, tipping his head in the direction of the bed.

“Will you stay?” Gale’s voice is quiet, but no longer shrouded in uncertainty. Halsin brings his hands up to the wizard’s face and smiles.

“I’d like that.” Halsin presses a gentle kiss to the other man’s lips, and Gale’s surprised at how natural it feels. Gale knows that at some point, likely the next day, his mind will take over and need to analyze every aspect of the situation, but for the moment, he feels safe and desired and loved.

Halsin smiles and caresses Gale's jaw with his thumbs. “Take your time, we’ll make sure there’s room for you.”

[greatworldwar2]

• Jake McNiece

James Elbert "Jake" McNiece was a US Army paratrooper in World War II. Private McNiece was a member of the Filthy Thirteen, an elite demolition unit. McNiece practiced in several operations throughout world war 2 with the 101st Airborne Division.

James McNiece was born on May 24th, 1919, in Maysville, Oklahoma, the ninth of ten children born to Eli Hugh and Rebecca McNiece, and of Irish American and Choctaw descent. During the Depression, the family moved to Ponca City, Oklahoma in 1931. In 1939, he graduated from Ponca City High School and went to work in road construction, and then at the Pine Bluff Arsenal, where he gained experience in the use of explosives. McNiece enlisted for military service on September 1st, 1942. He was assigned to the demolition saboteur section of what was then the 506th Parachute Infantry Regiment. This section became the Filthy Thirteen, first led by Lieutenant Charles Mellen, who was killed in action on June 6th, 1944, during the Invasion of Normandy. Following Mellen's death, Private McNiece became acting leader of the unit. McNiece is iconically recognized by wearing Native American–style "mohawk" and applying war paint to himself and other members of his unit which, excited the public's interest in this unit. The inspiration for this came from McNiece, who was part Choctaw.

McNiece's deliberate disobedience and disrespect during training prevented him from being promoted past Private when most Paratroopers were promoted to Private First Class after 30 days. McNiece would act as section sergeant and first sergeant through various missions. His first sergeant and company commanders knew he was the man the regiment could count on during combat. McNiece went on to make a total of four wartime combat jumps, the first as part of the Invasion of Normandy in 1944. In the same year he jumped as part of Operation Market Garden in the Netherlands. McNiece would see action again at the Siege of Bastogne, part of the larger Battle of the Bulge. During fighting in the Netherlands, he acted as demolition platoon sergeant. He volunteered for pathfinder training, anticipating he would sit out the rest of the war training in England, but his pathfinder stick was called upon to jump into Bastogne to guide in resupply drops. McNiece received a Bronze Star, Purple Heart, and French Legion of Honor medals for his service and deeds during the war.

His last jump was in 1945, near Prüm in Germany. In recognition of his natural leadership abilities, he ended the war as the acting first sergeant for Headquarters Company, 506th Parachute Infantry Regiment. McNiece would be kicked out of the military in February 1946 after fighting with MP’s. In 1949, McNiece returned to live in Ponca City. He began a 28-year career with the United States Postal Service. His first wife Rosita died in 1952 and, a year later, he married Martha Beam Wonders. They had two sons and a daughter and remained married until his death at age 93.