Something something just because the dog isn't flashy doesn't mean it's not driven. Just because it's not screaming doesn't mean it's not in drive.
Just because the dog is best suited for trailing, locating, and flushing game and thus rarely gets to participate in killing game, doesn't make it less important than the team members who are better at killing. The killing might be the flashiest and most exciting part, but it isn't the most important part. The dogs that kill won't be able to do that if the dogs that flush don't put the game into the position to be killed.
Grumbly venting brought to you a conversation with someone who thinks the actual kill is the most important part of hunting. And who thinks that only badass, hardcore, drivey, screamy dogs that murder are good hunting dogs.
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Oh, wait, wait, ok, I can tell tumblr my news now.
I was accepted into the JET Program and will be moving to Japan for one year starting in late summer to teach English. : )
I don't know how many other applicants have ever had either of my specific application 'angles'. I think they were both pretty weird, but also very, very me, and I'm pleasantly surprised that they seemed to have worked, going off both by the acceptance and the very positive and warm reactions I got during the interview I had. These were:
Science/scicomm/museum background + implying mutual interest in and love of like insects and sea life could be an avenue of intercultural connection and exchange
India and Japan have always struck me as weirdly similar in ways nobody seems to discuss, especially in both being simultaneously hurtling into modernity and deeply traditional/conservative in many ways and places
So. Is this a silly idea considering most people in this program are fresh college grads, and people my age are expected to maybe be getting more settled rather than hopping continents? Is this a scary idea, considering I'll have to uproot all my shit and go exist in a foreign country whose language I really don't know beyond miniscule smatterings? I mean, hmm, yes on both counts, but I'm very excited. On count one, I'd only get older in the future and demonstrably *don't* already have a settled life and career here to disrupt (lol), and on count two...guys, I'm so so tired of letting fear and inertia make my life decisions.
Time to pack up and store most of my shit and end my lease and. Yeah. Also I haven't actually been to India in five years and will probably try to visit my relatives there in the coming months since idk if i'd had an opportunity for a prolonged visit in the future during the one year (at least) in jp. I'll also be probably selling, trading, or giving away a lot more of my hobby shit (that was sort of an ongoing project already but since I'll be unable to use most of it for a year plus it's another reason to do so), so uh, if you've ever wished I would sell any of my dolls now might be time to commit BJD Hobby Taboo and ask me lol. And, obviously, I'll be studying more Japanese, because mine is incredibly へたくそ at the moment. So much to do. But I'm really excited. And thank you to all of y'all that have been encouraging to me about anything related to this matter <3
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Hey lovely! I love your work so much honestly you’re absolutely amazing! I was just wondering if you’d ever write anything for sbf!bucky again? I re read your work about him all the time and I’m a little bit of a whore for him 😅 no pressure whatsoever, it’s just that sweet baby has my heart 🥺
Sbf!Bucky has been really heavily requested recently and now I feel like I've been neglecting him 😩 I really enjoy writing him and it lets me dabble in my dream of being a milf some day
But I feel like he has a real sweet tooth. He's a dessert guy, 110%. Not like your husband or your son.
From the very first Sunday that your son brought Bucky over for dinner, he's been so into your desserts because a good dessert is something he's really missed during his last couple of years at college. It doesn't even really matter what you make, every week he tells you it's even better than whatever you made the Sunday before.
The store bought, dry cakes he sometimes treats himself to don't even come close to the fluffy sponges you make for him. He tells you your lemon meringue is better than the one his aunt used to make and your pies are probably a cure for sadness. He exaggerates but at least he sounds sincere.
And it's nice. It's nice that he appreciates your effort. It's nice that your desserts actually get eaten and enjoyed. It's nice that you're not sitting at the dinner table alone after lunch. Company is nice. Compliments are nice.
"I know it's late but I don't want you to think I'd forgotten." You made yourself busy in the kitchen, talking a little louder so Bucky could still hear you in the dining room. He usually helped you plate up dessert but not today.
"What are you talking about?" Bless him, he sounded so confused. "I can give you a hand if you like?"
"No, it's okay. Close your eyes." You thought your instruction was clear enough but Bucky still protested.
"Just close your eyes, Buck." You could've sworn you felt him raise his eyebrows but he did as he was told anyway.
You set the plate in front of him and laid a little dessert fork above his placemat. "I know your birthday was last Tuesday but I thought we could still celebrate it today. You're only 24 once." Bucky opened his eyes to the most mouth watering slice of chocolate cake he swore he'd ever seen in his life.
Two thick layers of moist chocolate sponge with a rich chocolate icing in between. The cake must have been heated for a couple of minutes, making the icing warm enough to make the layers slide slightly. Thick, warm chocolate sauce rolled down the sides, taking with it a light dusting of powdered sugar, almost washing away the single lit birthday candle. The plate was decorated with a perfect scoop of cool vanilla ice cream and some fresh strawberries, left overnight in a teaspoonful of sugar to draw out their juice.
"You didn't need to make a whole cake just for me!" His genuine excitement was heartwarming, quickly blowing out his candle before wax melted onto his dessert.
"Sweetheart, I make a whole cake just for you every week. Happy birthday." You lifted the little dessert fork, slicing through the sponge with it, making sure to add a little ice cream and a slice of strawberry before raising it to his lips.
You could swear he actually moans when the cake passes his lips. He makes the same noise at dessert every Sunday and you swear you never get tired of hearing it. It's so close to the noise he makes when he first sinks inside you and God, that sound is beautiful.
Your foot grazes his leg, gently but deliberately and there's a battle going on behind those eyes when he takes the fork from his own mouth. On one hand, your husband is in the next room, sitting beside your son, Bucky's best friend. On the other hand, Bucky needs you to know how much he appreciates this. Appreciates you. And if he's honest with himself, your husband and son being so close has never stopped him before.
"Fuck, you've ruined me." He groans, pressing his lips to yours in a hurry. Somehow you manage to stifle your surprise, catching up when he presses you back onto the dining room table.
"You and those fucking desserts. It's not fair. You get me half hard during dinner and then you feed me the best chocolate cake I've ever had? Do you know how unfair that is?" His hands are all over you, pulling your skirt up in between frantic kisses.
The chocolate cake is all but forgotten, the ice-cream left to melt while Bucky kisses your neck before he tugs your panties off, tucking them into the back pocket of his jeans.
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