#people are hurting my feelings

[malarkgirlypop]

MEDIC! Part 32 (Donald Malarkey x Fem!OC)

This chapter is short and sweet! Minus the sweet, whoops.

Based on the HBO show and the actors who portray the characters, not hate to anyone involved.

Tag list: @imusicaddict, @b00ks1ut , @mstiemountainhop, @awaterfalls anyone else please let me know.

Don avoided me like the plague. No one seemed to notice thankfully, they were busy training again, preparing for the warfare they would head over to face in Okinawa. I made myself useful but still there was little for me to do. The injured had been shipped off the aid stations and then home due to it all being finished over here. They kept only the fit young men who they would use again when they went to help the troops in the Pacific. 

When I wasn’t busy stocking medical supplies or treating minor injuries the men sustained in training, I walked aimlessly through Austria. I replayed the scene with Don, thinking about all that was said. I had hoped he would come around soon enough but still, he kept his distance. I also thought about leaving, I kept an eye out for the shimmer. I had made up my mind that if I were to see it, I wouldn’t hesitate to go back. I wouldn’t say goodbye, I would leave. That’s why whenever I left the base I packed all of my belongings and brought them along with me. Not that I had much in the first place, most of my possessions already resided in my medic bag. 

After finishing my menial task of stocking shelves I headed for the door, but a voice stopped me in my tracks. 

“Major Winters wants to speak to you Em.” Spiers had caught my elbow as I brushed past him quickly with my head down. I faced away from him, my eyes still glued to the door. I sighed nodding.   

Speirs led the way through the building to Winters’ office. He opened the door greeting the pair that spoke in hushed whispers, they straightened seeing they had been interrupted. Lew and Dick smiled as I stepped into the room. I hadn’t spoken to them in months. I never wanted to bother them, they were always so busy. 

“Thank you Speirs.” Dick dismissed the Captain. He saluted before exiting the room. 

Winters’ eye landed on me, I cast my stare down to the ground, fidgeting with my hands. I felt as if I had been brought into the principal's office. 

“Please take a seat.” Richard gestured to the chair that sat in front of the desk. I shuffled forward, dropping my bag to the ground and sitting.

“How have you been?” Dick asked politely. 

I flicked my eyes towards him, my chin still lowered to the floor.   

“Fine.” 

Lew awkwardly cleared his throat at my rigid response. 

“Well I’m glad to hear it.” Winters’ said after a beat when he realised that was all I was going to say. 

“Emily, I called you in today to talk to you about the future.”

I froze after hearing the words, ‘the future’. I glanced up again, both Lew and Dick stared at me with expecting looks. They wanted me to say something, but I couldn’t get my mouth to work. I nodded my head, encouraging Winters’ to continue. 

“I noticed that you never registered. We never officially offered a contract, but we assumed you would at least ask to be compensated.” 

“No, sir. I don’t want any money. I’m a volunteer.” I shook my head. There would be no use for the money I received. I didn’t have a bank account to hold it, people would ask too many questions. It was better just to remain undetected. 

“Yes, but even volunteer’s get paid.” Dick clarified.

“You can give my earnings to the other’s, or donate it to charity. But I do not want that money.” I stated firmly. 

Both Lew and Dick looked perplexed. I’m sure they wondered why on earth I was turning down a decent pay. 

“Is that all?” I asked rather impatiently. This meeting was making me even more anxious than I already was. 

“No. We wanted to discuss other things as well.” Dick stuck out his hand ushering me to sit back down in the seat I had started to rise out of. 

“The fighting in the Pacific is brutal. More cruel than what we have experienced. I just wanted to inform you that you do not need to go.” Winters’ face was pale, his expression sour. 

I knew of the brutality of the Pacific. The Japanese were ruthless, they didn’t care about their own survival, only the triumph of their country. It was an honour for them to die for their nation. A heroic death to be killed in action, they would rather die than go home injured, or pull back. 

“They have enough medic’s over there.” He pulled me from my thoughts. 

“But aren’t we sending men, sir?” 

“Yes-”

“Then you will need more medic’s to care for those who will be travelling over there, am I wrong?” I challenged the Major. 

He sighed. 

“I’m going to be honest, Emily. I don’t particularly want to send any of the men over there, but they don’t really have a say. However, like I said before, you aren’t registered, and I don’t want you to go over there, not if we have a choice.” His brow furrowed in concern. For his men, for me. 

“Thank you for your consideration, but I will be going if need be.” I gave a tight smile. 

The men shifted awkwardly in their seats. I know I was being difficult, but there was no point putting on a show, and pretending I was fine. It didn’t matter in the end.

“What are your plans for after the war? Are you returning home?” Lew asked, trying to ease the tension in the room. 

“No, I don’t intend to return back to America.” I shook my head, keeping my eyes trained to the floor. Even though I couldn’t see the men I knew they were exchanging glances. 

“What is your plan?” Dick asked hesitantly.

“I’m not sure. Maybe I will stay in Austria if we don’t leave, or somewhere else. I haven’t planned anything. But that’s fine no one is waiting for me back home, so I’m free to do as I please.” 

“Have you spoken to Malarkey about this?” Winters’ asked. 

The mention of his name made me snap my head up to stare at Dick. 

“Why would I need to speak to Don about this?” I questioned, venom laced in my tone. 

“Oh, well.” Winters’ stumbled over his words. 

“You two are together are you not?” Nixon finished Dick’s ramblings. 

“No offence, Sir. But I’m not sure how that’s any of your business?” 

My retort left the pair with their mouths hung open. I didn’t mean to be so bitter, but I couldn’t stop it. I was hurting. I knew they were only asking because they cared for me. But I wanted to cut ties and just flee. 

“I’m sorry. I think I should go.” I stood from my seat before they dismissed me, giving a half-hearted salute before rushing out the door. 

My breaths left me in short gasps as I tried to control the sobs that desperately wanted to escape my mouth. Hot tears streamed down my face, as I put my head down and made my way out of the building. I crashed into several shoulders, mumbling quiet apologies, never lifting my head to see who I was saying sorry to. 

I stumbled outside, gasping for air in between my sobs. I covered my mouth trying to muffle the awful sounds. 

“Emily?” I heard from behind me. I turned away from the voice, hiding my face from view. 

“”Em?” Speirs asked again, walking closer. 

I rushed away, but I could hear his footsteps following after me. I headed towards the forest, I wanted to be out of sight. 

Choking and spluttering I lent against one of the trees for support as I cried. 

Speirs moved me away from the trunk I clung to, pulling me into his arms. 

“I fucked up.” I blubbed out. 

“Shhhhh.�� Speirs hushed, pressing me into his chest. His hand cradled my head, his fingers tangling in my hair in a soothing manner. 

His chin rested on top of my head, he held me until my crying stopped. By then I had crumpled to the ground in a heap as Speirs hugged me close. 

“What’s going on?” Ron asked as I finally pulled away. His thumbs caught the stray tears that streaked down my cheeks. 

“I’m not going home.” I told him. His brows furrowed in concern. 

“Is this about not having anywhere to go? Cause if that’s it, you can come with me.” 

I shook my head. 

“I can’t stay. I don’t want to burden anyone.” My heart hurt. I didn’t want to be a sad reminder of the war, like some stray dog someone brought home because they felt bad for it.

“I can’t ask that of anyone. That’s cruel. People have families they actually need to care for.” I crumpled a dry leaf in my hand watching its shattered remains scatter to the floor. 

“We love you, why can’t you ask that of us?” Speirs asked, his head dipping down to try and meet my eyeline. 

“I’m used to being alone. It’s my normal niche. This isn’t normal for me to be surrounded by so many people. I think I need my space.” I didn’t truly mean those words that left my mouth, but I needed to convince myself that I couldn’t stay. The more I believed it, the better. I couldn’t have any doubts when leaving.

“Do you really mean that?” Spiers asked. 

Ron knew me well. Which pulled a bitter laugh from my throat. This universe was cruel, giving me everything I ever wanted and then snatching it all away.   

“I have no place here.” I muttered. 

“What about Malarkey?” Speirs asked.

“What about him?” I snapped.

“I thought you two were in love?” Speirs asked tentatively. 

“Yeah, well things change!” I huffed. “But what does it matter? It still doesn’t change the fact, I’m not going home. I will serve until everyone else leaves, and then I will make my own way. That was always my plan, I look after me, cause no one else will! I will not be someone’s responsibility! I don’t want the charity, someone to take me home and then regret it. I can’t ask that of strangers.” 

“You think we’re strangers?” Speirs sounded hurt. 

I lifted my head to look at him. “Yes, we are. We aren’t a family, you do not carry the responsibility of an older brother, I am not yours to try and take care of! You have family, people who need you. I am not one of those people. I don’t want your pity.” The words felt like acid in my mouth. Seeing Speirs’ mask slip slightly and crack at my harsh words, sent pain shooting through my chest. He quickly regained his composure, taking a deep breath. Ron rose to his feet, a tight smile graced his features. 

“If you say so, Lane.”

That was all he said before we strided away. I had done it once a-fucking-gain. Pushed all those who cared for me away. God I was good at ruining everything.  

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

Chapter 33

[inkskinned]

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

[akanemnon]

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

FIRST - PREVIOUS - NEXT

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

[giantkillerjack]

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Plain-text version:

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

[thebrainrotsreal]

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

Also learning how to draw these guys.. slowly.

[sunfoxfic]

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

[cocoabell]

A bitter reminder 🥀

[endykelopaedia]

oh okay. a lot of yall dont think trans women are women fr. a lot of yall think the phrase "trans women are women" is a kindness & an ideal and not a bog standard truth about their reality. a lot of yall fr think trans women are just mentally ill cis men until they transition! a lot of yall see no difference between hatred trans women and hatred of cis men!! a lot of yall fr think transmisogyny is a misandry spinoff!!! oh okay!!! a lot of yall dont think trans women are women fr!!!

[featheredadora]

[poorly-drawn-mdzs]

Good morning, Sleepyhead.

[First] Prev <–-> Next

[cup-o-stars]

Posting this before I forget.

(Plus these shitty first attempts)

[teaboot]

tranny freak :)

[inkskinned]

you know, you know. no gods, no masters, no kings on pedestals. everyone is fallible. death of the author. you know! you are balanced about your intake of media - you allow the wiggle room, the grace, the gratitude, the skepticism. nobody above criticism.

but still. a weird gut-punch feeling, something akin to betrayal. you read the article. surprise! an author you love is actually: a serial fucking predator.

well, shit. what now. no, you knew he was a person (all people are), but now you're wondering - what have i overlooked by accident? what messages have i internalized that are strange and cruel? and also, like, what the fuck?

his actions lay a thick glaze on top of everything. like each place is now ruined, opaque in a new way. but okay, fine, you've done this before. you knew better, right? you've been betrayed by many a cherished childhood author.

still, this stickiness. fuck. can you pick up that book again. will you read it to your children. you've recommended it to others - will you ever do that again? and of course, of course, no parasocial relationships. you were theoretically above this kind of sentiment. but the artist informs the art, right.

so it's not something as clear-cut as feeling he owed you, specifically (a stranger) better behavior - just that you kind of, in a distant and odd way... sort of trusted him to do better. it's not like a real trust or something speakable, just the faint hope that the product (good books) was a thin representation of the soul. now it feels like the product (good? books?) was a mask. in some small or insignificant way, your previous support of this person lent them power. your money and your time and your laughter.

and the thing is - you have this terrible, echoing sensation. how many times will this happen? over and over. you find out that the singer you love is actually a predator. you learn over drinks that your favorite high school english teacher is in jail for what he did to her. you listen to the news idly and suddenly discover that a woman you used to idolize has been abusing her kids for an actual eon.

what can you touch without the static melting off. you can't even really complain about it too much (you were supposed to know better, and besides, you don't want the same re-split "it's not your fault, love what you love" basic advice), but now it's here. somehow, it feels like - you let him into your life.

it's not that things need to be pure or an artist has to be like, endlessly perfect, mindful. demure. it's more just this terrible truth that has been replayed through your veins so often it feels criminally vain. power corrupts, absolute power corrupts absolutely. did you want any one person to be worth that power?

it's just that he wrote books where he seemed to understand that. he seemed to know about hierarchies and unfair systems and bigotry and privilege. you thought they were books about what it means to struggle. you thought they were about having power and still using it for good rather than for control. he spooned you a narrative of being a good guy, a kind soul. you fucking bought what that fucking monster sold.

maybe that's why they were fantasies, after all.

[wearenotjustnumbers2]

Journalists in gaza are posting their last message.

What are we waiting for, what have we allowed to happen?

Ismail and motaz are the same journalists in this video by the way. They're people who always find light in the dark. Praying for them and all Palestinians.

[fernsnailz]

sorry these kinds of comments have been really pissing me off recently lol

[bunnieswithknives]

Dev this is serious stop beatboxing.