#sorry this looks like shit; I'm on mobile and have no talent | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

braindead-virtually-tv · 1 year

Text

Monday Night Raw 30/01/23

Just things I've wrote down while catching up read if you want to lose braincells.

I'M SORRY I CANT INSERT A READ MORE I'M ON MOBILE

- They've gotten rid of the Cody-vater 😭

- Cody's AR logo looks better than the actual tattoo.... Let that sink in

- IWC: Yeah Cody is going to get boo'd out of the place if he wins the RR

Crowd:

- I also drove a VW Jetta before too Cody 😂

- I completely forgot about Dashing Cody Rhode's grooming tips 💀💀💀

- I mean yeah you can't actually be shocked at the men's RR choice this year like I said there is literally no other choice 💀😂

- I have to say Cody's a good baby-face but the Main event at the Rumble really reignited how much of an absolute heel Roman is and the crowd is really playing into it now because of it.

- Looks like Cody is challenging for both belts, hopefully they either split post WM or are split at WM

- Ohhhhh Judgement Day what are you doing here?

- DOM YOU DONT GET TO TALK ABOUT RUINED PLANS YOU RUINED YOUR DADS PLANS 😭😭😭😭

- JD has been good for Dom but he still has ways to go.

- Damien was this 👌 close to calling Cody a Nepo baby 😭😭😂

- "Are you tryna scare me straight?" JSHSJJSJHS CODY STOP 😂

- Dominik Mysterio shoots on all your fathers

- Why are there people dressed as bananas

- EDGE!!!!! BEAT THEIR ASSES

- Ohh Cody v Finn this is gonna be good

- So I'm at home so my mam is like in the same room as I am watching it and she gets a kick at me pointing out all the Irish people, so now I've just resorted to explaining people in relation to other Irish people, "See him aye? Hes married to Becky Lynch they have the young one together" (Explaining who Seth Rollins is) 😂😂

- Gable and Rollins is not a match I would ever of thought of but honestly both are EXTREMELY talented.

- The start of it where Gables going straight for Seth and does some legit wrestling shit to get him into the ankle lock was

- HEJJSUS IDK WHY BUT OTIS WALKING LIKE A MAM TRYING TO CLEAN UP A SPILL IN ANOTHER ROOM TOWARDS GABLE IS KILLING ME

- Obviously Seth was going to get it but has Gable ever been in a Chamber? Idk I feel like he'd be good in it. Or maybe not and he has been in it before and was completely not memorable 💀

- The theming of the advertising for EC is honestly like if I was presented with the duty of advertising, "Uhh idk it's in Canada and Canada is .... Cold?"

- I don't think I noticed Iyo eliminating Candice at the RR

- I don't really have much to say about this match, both Candice and Iyo are extremely good at what they do but my 2 month hiatus from wrestling up until Rumble means I don't really have a frame of reference for this story wise.

- Bayley looks like your favourite aunt you only see once a year and they let you take a sip of their drink and promises not to tell your mam about your boyfriend.

- The Poisonrana from electric chair was so cool to watch, nice one Candice

- Mia... Sorry, Michin, you were a bit late to grab Iyo don't you think? 💀💀

- ohhh NXT Vengeance Day is in Charlotte, nice to see they're getting out of the PC for PPVs again, I missed that. I have a bit of a love/hate relationship with the crowd at the PC

- I do think it was extremely good to turn JD's focus to Rhea, after Edge was ousted, they felt a bit aimless and goofy. And while they still are a bit goofy, they play into it as much as n ended while also seeming like an actual decent threat. I think this is due in part to shifting the spotlight to Rhea, because she is genuinely quite a big threat. Can't wait to see what the build to WM will be for her.

- RHEAS GOING FOR CHARLOTTE, THIS IS HER WRESTLEMANIA REDEMTION YESSSSSS IVE BEEN WAITING FOR THIS!!!!! HOW'S THAT FOR THE LONG TERM BOOKING ASSHATS

- NAH BUT SERIOUSLY THE STORY OF RHEA BEING AT THE TOP OF NXT GETTING COCKY AND FEELING INVINCIBLE THEN LOOSING. THEN GOING ON A JOURNEY GOING THROUGH A FRIENDSHIP BREAKUP, FINDING HER PLACE AND LEANING INTO TO HOW TRULY DESTRUCTIBLE SHE IS TO GET REVENGE ON THE WOMAN WHO KNOCKED HER DOWN AT THE TOP OF THE HILL IS FANTASTIC.

- I think it was probably gonna be obvious that Seth & Logan Paul are going into a WM fued seeing what happened at Rumble. And while I have no doubt the match will be good, as much as I dislike Paul he is very good for such a new and part time wrestler, idk man I feel like Seth would be good in literally any other feud. But hey either way it's going to be a high profile match and lord knows Seth has worked hard to get where he is so good for him.

- The mere sight of JBL has stirred up some PTSD buried deep from childhood, at least I don't have to hear those stock bells 💀😂

- How dare you Corey, Gargano is Lumis' Wrestling Father in Law that's why he's here 😤😤

- I do kinda love JBL being ... Uh how do I explain this? Like anti-indie guys kind of? Like you know what I mean, the wrestlers who have been touted as indie darlings, normally brought in by Trips, who probably have a 5* match in the Tokyo Dome or some shit like that? I by no means hate this type of wrestler but it honestly fits Corbin and JBL really well.

- KICK OUT OF THE DEEP SIX!????

- Do you think JBL uses Just for Men?

- HDHSJSJSJJS LUMIS NOT THE AXE I'M DYING PLEASE I HOPE THERE'S A GIF OF THAT SHOWING IT TO JBL

- Honestly sad for Corbin but Gargano for the US Championship fits better in my opinion

- I have to wait till Friday to see the fallout from the RR's main event? I NEED TO KNOW WHAT'S HAPPENING WITH SAMI, KEVIN AND JEY 😭😭

- I will never not love MVP, when I was kid I used to put masking tape on my nose to pretend to be like MVP, I wish I had a picture 😂😂 I cannot implure to you how funny it would look, pasty white Irish child in her nightdress thinking she was MVP

- So with Bobby looking like he's going into a programme with Brock it doesn't look like he's getting the US Title back anytime soon. But honestly I could have Bobby as US Champ for ages, man has really grown on me in the last three years, he's one of my favs now.

- HYPE UP BOBBY MVP YESSS

- I forgot about Brock F-5ing Theory in the Chamber last year LMAO THAT WAS GREAT

- Is... Theory trying to be Cena with this Ruthless Aggression stuff 💀 No child... No

- Guys you should all be worried about your health it's important and you all live in America where that shits expensive

- BOBBY MY MAN HERE HE ISSSSS

- I WANT ANOTHER ARM WRESTLING CONTEST, LET BOBBY HOLD HANDS

- "Listen to your Daddy!" Theory is salty because Gargano doesn't want him anymore and Grandad Vinny left 💀💀

- Listen Dom, I say this with love and as a woman who is currently growing out a mullet, Please go to a hairdresser

- Don't ask me why and this has probably already been done and has just escaped my brain, but I want a tag team consisting of Miz & Dolph Ziggler

- BOOGS IS BACK LOOK AT THAT MAN HE'S BEEN ON THE VITAMINS HASNT HE?

- I wish he went to SmackDown purely because I want Pat's reaction 😭

- Oh Mr.Pearce if only you had the same backbone for the Bloodline you had for the Miz, Sami wouldn't have to go into witness protection 💀😂

- Boogs just straight up manhandling the Miz for the shits and giggle tho

- OTIS IN MAXIMUM MALE MODELS I CANNNNTTT PLEASE LET THIS BE A THING

- wait if Jey & Rikishi still like Sami is he allowed to the Cook Out or nah?

- NOT THE SLOW MOTION EDIT OF SAMI BEING DROPPED 😭😭😭😭

- Bayleys hair colour is gorgeous I kinda want it myself, I wonder if they'll let me dye my hair at work?

- Yeah, Becky ain't done with you hun, you've never made an Irish woman mad before have you? We don't let it go Bayley, never 💀

- I do like the thinking of How Becky didn't need the RR win and she was making sure Damage CTRL didn't, that's actually smart writing and a good way out of some the strongest women in the division not winning

- "I don't like you Rebecca" Idk that got a chuckle out of me 😂

- IS BAYLEY TRYNA SLIDE INTO ROLLINS DMS?

- NOT BAYLEY IMPLYING THEY GOT MARRIED BECAUSE BECKY WAS PREGNANT HAHHAHAH OH MY LORD

- I'm sorry I'm not over this is a fantastic promo segment

- HAHAHHA SHES DRAGGING OUT DAKOTA BY THE HAIR THIS WOMAN IS TRULY IRISH I LOVE HER BECKY FOR PRESIDENT (After Micheal D is finished of course)

- I had no idea Bronson Reed was back, good for him

- EC is for Bianca's title, I've got a good feeling about Asuka, that'll be a great matchup in Asuka's new package.

- NOT CHELSEA GREEN BEING A KAREN LMAO WELCOME BACK GIRL

- Carmella is coming back, fair play to her, she's had a rough year and hope all is going okay for her

- There's my favourite musty man Ziggles

- Ali asking Dolph how he keeps getting opportunities gives me the same vibe as that Nardwaur(spelling?) interview that's like:

"How do you keep your pants up?"

"Belt." 😂😂😂

- Dolph have you ever heard of Olaplex?

- Yeah guessed the outcome of this one, Dolph's had many Chambers, Bronson was the right choice on this one

- oh Carmella is back with some form of the Princess of Station Island gimmick let's goooo

- Asuka owns 51% of this company 😂

- Oh Asuka going with that Business-Horror-Casual, very chic

- Boogs and the Profits, that's some sort of a team up I need to see at least once.

- Boogs v Elias is a feud that writes itself

- Street Profits = Joy, that is all

- Wait did my catch up service mess up or were we not meant to get a Bianca promo tonight? Like there's about 20 mins left but we're at the Main Event? 🤔

- No matter what you think about Cody, man always looks feckin' extatic to be doing what he's doing

- I wonder if Elle is aware Finn's wearing pants 💀😂😂

- I don't understand the big hoopla of WWE now mentioning other promotions tbh. Like to a majority of the audience it doesn't really matter nor do they care. Like cool they mentioned New Japan, good for them? like I didn't notice when they never mentioned other promotions and it makes not odds me either now that they do. Like yeah cool give a bit of backstory on a competitor, it's not the big deal some of the IWC make it to be.

- I have no clue what it's called but that thing where Cody drops really quickly to one knee and slaps his opponent is really satisfying for some reason

- Best Powerslams in the business: Randy Orton, Dustin Rhodes & Cody Rhodes

- I was wondering why Damien shoy.off but Edge just defending the crowd, that man is PISSSSEDD

- BETH PHOENIX MY BELOVED WHERE WERE YOU AT THE RUMBLE I THOUGHT YOU WOULD HAVE COMPETITED 😭

- Ngl as much as I like Cody, I cannot take his finisher seriously 💀

-Why are Edge and Beth looking on Cody like they're proud parents 💀😂

- And that's it, pretty good episode overall, kept me hella entertained start to finish 👌

#wwe raw #catch up on wrestling #wwe

6 notes · View notes

spynorth · 2 years

Note

i love you

guess what my little peepmallow. you sent this almost 12 hours ago according to my little time stamp thing and I'm sorry it's taken me eighty five centuries to answer it. I was mobile and I also wanted to say something deeper and more meaningful than a 5 second quip out of nowhere and no matter how I tried to think of it, I couldn't come up with something .. but then I've just now realized that maybe that's the problem. Maybe I'm trying too hard. Maybe I don't have to always be witty or funny or clever or come up with arrogant cliches that make the world tumble on its head... sometimes I can just relax and be myself with the people who matter the most. the people who know me. the people like you.

how long have we known one another pyro? Ages. Years. Centuries? Is there a way to count the passage of time when it comes to immortal idiots like us who will forever reign over this website? I make jokes a lot. I laugh and tell you that you're a treasured sea rat and send little google images and you laugh back ... but I want you to know that you are a treasured sea rat. You shine throughout this world and the next. Fuck tumblr. I could go on about how creative and talented and what a wonderful writer you are .. and it would all be true ... but fuck tumblr. You have so much to offer, so much more joy and laughter to bring than the characters you write. The world wouldn't be the same without you in it. It would be colder, darker .. more empty. I hope you know how much I adore you and how grateful I am for your friendship. I know you're going through it but just imagine us a few months from now, looking back and being like 'man october sure was shit, wasnt it?'. I'm sending you all my love, spyro. hang in there <3

#lowsurvival #P YRO.#i love you. dont let the brain worms win

2 notes · View notes

code-name-wraith · 2 years

Note

Sova and Skye are my king and queen<3 May I request hcs for them with a female radiant reader whose abilities include illusions and shapeshifting? Like she appears to them as a cat first (because who doesn't trust a cat?) and later on accidentally shifts and everyone sees it?

[ a/n: same anon, but actually you're my king AND my queen. thanks for the request, hope you enjoy! also, sorry for the length but no keep-reading, i have no idea how to do that on mobile :') ]

skye with shapeshifting female!reader

• who doesn't trust a cat? skye. skye wonders why she can't feel a connection with this random dingy cat, like she can with every animal, and that's the very beginning of her suspicion. she watches you from afar because her bright, fire-red hair is the epitome of stealth, but y/n somehow notices her prowling around and she's convinced you're something else.

• she does everything to surprise you. uses her birds until you have them scorched into your retinas and her tasmanian tiger growls in some distorted, alien animal speech. everyone says, "holy fuck skye, lay off the cat!" and coddles you in their arms, but she knows better. she sees through your trickery, and she's giving it her all.

• every time she comes around, you purr smugly, and she pulls up her lip. "listen here you little shit, i know your secret, and so will everyone else," skye growls through her teeth, crossing her arms and getting in your face, and you gratefully accept the challenge with your chin up, like you're something higher than her.

• you just have a talent for pissing her off. with a shameless sneer, she lunges for you, causing you to sprawl across the table. you look into her eyes and realize, damn, she's serious this time - and all of a sudden, she's chasing you all around the lounge like an animal.

• eventually when she snags her arms around you, you let out a surprised squeak, not able to do much more than allow yourself to be whisked away - and before you know it, your fur turns into frazzled locks of hair and your eyes dilate into something much less feline. "there you are, girlie! i'm not crazy!" she exclaims victoriously, pumping her fist in the air, and you can't do anything but sputter breathlessly in response.

sova with shapeshifting female!reader

• not saying he's dense, but goddamn, he's dense. the first time he sees you in headquarters, he's not delighted - after all, felines and birds don't mix, but having some company never hurts for those gray, lonely early mornings. just like everyone else, he comes to adore you.

• every morning, you rub against his ankle and purr for his attention. "hello, little one," he hums back, voice still thick and groggy with sleep, but he sweeps you up anyways. he peppers little kisses to your head and carries you around the kitchen, stroking your fur while he prepares breakfast. you take every drop of affection you can get, and whenever you're really needy, you just push restlessly into his neck. everytime, he sighs fondly, and gives you all the attention you crave.

• he spoils you, but it isn't a bad thing he has a huge, bleeding heart. after those little domestic mornings, you come to be really fond of him inside and out, though he doesn't know about your own secrets. so after a long mission, you naturally crawl back to him lounging on the couch and he cuddles you all the same, wondering aloud where you'd gone. and, just for a moment, you let go, sleeping tight in his arms.

• ...and when you wake up, he's looking at you with wide, curious blue and brown eyes, and you mumble your good mornings, wondering what has him all bug-eyed. you tighten your hands around his body, pushing your face further into his warm chest, your hair annoying your nose- wait. nose? hands?

• "ooh! guys, sova brought a girl home!" jett whistles, and panic seeps into your senses as you practically kick yourself off the couch and straight into the floor, yelping with the impact, and sova is too slow and tired to catch you.

#4am motivation #valorant #valorant writing #valorant skye #skye valorant #skye x reader #reader x skye #valorant x reader #valorant sova #sova valorant #sova x reader #reader x sova

305 notes · View notes

jojotichakorn · 2 years

Note

Happy Friday Archer, I hope you had a good week so far :)

It's been a while so I thought I'd drop you an ask to commemorate the joyous occasion of the 2-weeks-of-agony are finally over. Who would have thought that 2 weeks could feel that long without any new episodes of Bad Buddy or Not Me?! I mean damn.....

As far as coping mechanisms to stave off withdrawal symptoms go my pick was to watch as many reaction videos for both shows on YouTube as I could, just to see people losing their shit over my favourite scenes. So amusing ;) Sounding desperate - you have no idea! I even watched some reactors in languages I don't speak just to enjoy the facial expressions. Yes sir, I do definitely have a problem, and I'm NOT sorry :D

Anygay, wanted to share a little gem with you that I actually came across yesterday in one of the reactions I watched. Just shows that it really pays off to watch and re-watch some scenes because the most beautiful things are often in the details.

So in BB episode 7, after the "cold bottle incident" (how could anyone forget THAT one) when Pran is tickling the SHIT out of Pat there is is a moment right after Pat threw up his hands and admitted defeat.

It's literally just a micro-expression and and very easy to miss unless you know what you're looking for, but when Pat lies there catching his breath you can see his eyelids flutter and his eyes roll back. Just for a second but it's such a fucking BLISSED OUT expression - once it had been pointed out I could NOT un-see it. And it just adds SO much to the exchange.

Ohms abilities as an actor, how mobile his face is and how he can use such micro-expressions to enrich and bring a character to life are just breathtaking. Now to be fair it's entirely possible (maybe even likely) that this reaction was completely involuntary on Ohm's part. BUT even then that just speaks for his ability to immerse himself in his character to such a degree that he LITERALLY brings Pat to life in such a moment, micro-expressions and all.

And that is something I don't think you can learn, you either got it or you don't, and it distinguishes a great actor from a good one. I can think of a handful of actors off the top of my head who have this kind of ability, Sam Lin being one, and Nanon too (how lucky are we to have 2 such amazing actors in the same show?!). Wang Yibo is also someone who has mastered the art of micro-expressions, though he only started out with his acting career.

Ok stopping here before this becomes monstrously massive. Just wanted to share :D

Enjoy BB today! I shall most likely send another ask your way after it aired ;)

Love,

Niku

heyy, niku!! i'm glad you could find something to busy yourself with while waiting for the new episode (watching reactions in other languages is truly impressive), congratulations on surviving the two weeks!! i had to go back and rewatch to see what you mean, and it is indeed a lovely moment. ohm's understanding of pat as a character is truly incredible - there are so many actors out there who just do their job, completely disconnected from their characters and it shows, but ohm understands pat better than anyone, even better than the original writer, the screenwriters, and p'aof. and you can see it in every single acting decision, or perhaps not even decision, but simply every movement and expression that comes so naturally from this understanding. it's absolutely lovely to see, and i will never stop talking about how incredibly talented he is. happy bad buddy day, can't wait for you to be back after the episode!!

#archer responds #nikusu

4 notes · View notes

heartbeatan · 5 years

Text

Partition (Chapter 1)

Return to Table of Contents.

Return to Yoongi Fanfictions.

Return to Masterlist.

Chapter 1

"Oh god, don't do that!"

"Why not? I know you like it," he replied.

"Because I'm going to scream."

"I want you to scream."

"I don't want your driver to know what we're doing back here."

"I'm pretty sure he knows what is going on by now," he snickered before he buried his face back between your legs before you could protest. You did your best to stifle your moans, but your muffled whimpers weren’t much better against the crackle of your bare ass squirming over the leather of the back seat.

He tormented you once again with the move you had just been talking about. Your breath caught in your throat and your fingers immediately reached to latch onto his hair – or perhaps your sanity.

You looked up at the partition separating your debauchery from the innocent hire on the other side of it. The thought of the stranger hearing you come had you caught somewhere between being aroused and embarrassed…

"Oh shit! Stop!” Despite Yoongi’s tight grip on your thighs, you must’ve startled him enough that you were able to push him off of you with little force before you scrambled to dig your phone out of your purse. “I forgot to call my driver."

"I don't see why that means I need to stop," He didn’t stop. Instead, he went right for one of your sweet spots. You turned your head as your mouth fell open and you released another moan.

“Your driver already knows I'm being eaten out in the back seat of a car by a guy I've just met, I really don't need my driver to know that too.”

He looked up at you, his lips curved upwards in rogue delight. “I’ll behave,” he said, but his tone was unconvincing. Regardless, you made the call.

"Hello?" she answered.

"Hi! Where are you?"

"We're just all sitting at a coffee shop nearby. I'll be there in 5 minutes."

"Oh! No, no, no, no. I'm actually..." your body clenched backwards and you silently screamed into the roof of the car. He did it again. Bastard. It took you a moment to re-assume control of your body, but once you did, you reached down and grabbed a fist full of his hair and yanked his head away from you. He looked up at you with a smug and triumphant expression.

Stop it, you mouthed to him.

"Are you there?" your driver asked through the phone.

"Um, yeah. Sorry. I'm actually... uh... you don't need to pick me up, you can call it a night. I'm going out with some people." Thinking you were home safe you let go of the man still kneeling in front of you. He went right back to work. You bit hard on your tongue.

"That's fine, I'm on duty all night. I can pick you up afterwards."

"I... um... that's not..." You were rubbing your forehead, trying hard to focus on what to say to end this conversation before you accidentally sounded off into the phone and gave yourself up.

"Miss, are you okay?"

"Yeah, no, I'm completely fine." Another snicker came from under your dress. He was enjoying this circus. "Sorry. I just, I gotta run. I won't need a car later. Please go home… see your family. You'll be paid for the whole shift."

"OK. Thank-you. But, if you need me later, just call and I'll leave the ringer on."

"Yup. Yup. OK, thank-you!" you rushed your goodbye and hung up. He chose then to take a break, surfacing to give you an arrogant smile.

“I told you I’d behave.” He winked.

"You're a menace."

“I try.” He disappeared between you again and resumed ravishing your core with his mouth. You too resumed your activity: trying to shield as much as you could from the driver on the other side of the partition. It was difficult. You hissed to suppress your moans and moaned to suppress your screams. His tongue and lips were so talented, and you hadn’t had a man touch you like that in so long. You knew you were embarrassingly wet - yet, he didn’t seem to mind, in fact, he seemed to revel in it - delighted that he was the cause.

“Oh, God!” you felt another tremor building, but you were sure you wouldn’t be able to stay quiet this time if you didn’t do something. The stress from the challenge of keeping sound to a minimum nearly caused your body to reject the mounting pleasure. Without conscious thought, your hands stretched through his hair to push him off of you.

“Put your arms behind your head,” he directed you without looking away from his task. You complied, bending your elbows over your shoulders and clinging to the headrest behind you. He tightened his hold on your thighs and backside, restricting your mobility and pulling himself into you further. Then he went to town.

“Fuck!” you whimpered as your toes curled and your nails dug into the leather.

“We’re gonna do that later,” he replied. You laughed at his wisecrack. His tongue was not only talented, but smart - a combination that made it dangerous. It was able to reach and stimulate every spot you needed it to and some you didn’t know needed it. While the tip of his nose is forged a path up your seam to rest over your clitoris, his dangerous tongue followed, licking you firmly in a zig-zag trail from bottom to top - parting you as it did so it could access more of you. You felt it swirl around your pleasure point, lapping it up firmly from once angle, then another, and the another, before it dragged itself slowly back down your folds to rest over your entrance. His lips closed in on you when it got there. His hands left your bottom and made their way under your knees - lifting them to open you up to him even further.

“Ngh!” you called out as he had now breached into new territory. That tongue whirled around inside you while his lips, teeth and nose roved across the surface - you could feel his chin pressed upon you as he tried to stretch further inside you and with greater acrobatics. He had perfect timing and precision with every action he made - before this maneuver became tiresome, he pulled out and made his way back up while sucking hungrily on each of your lips.

He blew a breath of air over your wetness and you quivered as the breeze ignited a new tantalizing sensation. He coiled his mouth around your clit and sucked it once, hard - making you think he was about to work it again. Instead he brushed his lips and tongue across your pelvic bone and down your inner thigh leaving your organ pulsing and begging for his attention. As he made his way back up your other thigh, your body impulsively tried to shimmy across the seat, but you were still anchored in place by his strong hold.

“Fuck!” you said, when he finally returned his mouth to where it belonged - licking you again, parting you again in one broad stroke - exposing your clitoris again, but this time, he clamped his mouth over it then pulled it between his lips and began to massage it with his tongue. “Shit!” Your moans became more frequent and higher pitched as you could feel your climax building and the warm wetness flowing out of you and onto the leather beneath. “Oh, God! Shit!”

“We’re almost there,” he said, as he pulled back and replaced his mouth with his fingers - maintaining your high by rubbing, circling and stroking you.

“Oh god, I know,” you replied instinctively, barely able to form the words. It wasn’t the smoothest or sexiest of answers you could give, but you didn’t really have the capacity to control what you were saying.

He chuckled lightly. “I mean, we’re in my neighbourhood. We’re almost there at my apartment.”

“Oh,” you said realizing “there” wasn’t actually your orgasm. Finally, you would be somewhere private where no one but him could hear you - however, you were so closed to seeing God that the news wasn’t exactly welcome.

“That means I’ll have to make you come in the next few minutes.” His fingers traced down to your entrance and he eased them into you. They slid up your chamber, then curled and straighten over your ridge. You clamped your thighs over his wrist as his foreign digits brushed your g-spot and took your breath away.

His pace at first was steady. His thumb pressed and rotated against your clit, while his fingers straightened, then curled, then straightened, then twisted as they slid back down your chamber, only to return and start over again. But, every now and then he would kick it into high gear, returning in one swift motion - slamming back into you, clamping onto your ridge again, then fluttering rapidly against your walls. Each time you felt as if he lifted you right out of your seat. Each time his fingers flapped violently inside of you; your body would convulse forward. Each time it took your breath away.

“Are you gonna come for me?” he whispered, his breath swept across your face. Your hands were dug into his shoulders and your noses were only inches apart. You couldn’t tell if the vehicle was stopped or if you were still on the road. All you knew is that what was happening to you unbearably gratifying.

He could tell from your expression that you were going to come soon. Knowing this he decided that his mouth was ready for the homestretch. You felt the rhythm of his hand combat slow again, allowing you to relax. You released his shoulders and leaned back into the seat. His lips and tongue once again scaled over every surface they could find. The dual sensation of his hand and mouth in and on you kicked your ecstasy into high gear. He continued his assault, revisiting every move he made that you reacted well too. When he found just the right spots, he quickened his pace and increased the pressure - determined to meet the deadline. You felt your muscles begin to contract as your climax begun.

“Ah! I’m going to come,” you breathed as the sensation began. His fingers fluttered inside you for the last time - their job was to ensure you got there. His warm tongue pressed firmly over your clit - it’s job was to receive your orgasm.

“Oh! Ahhh! Ah!” Your teeth clenched and your body tightened. Your pelvis lifted against him, and he gripped his hands underneath your behind to support you and hold you close. “Ahh!” The euphoria ripped through your veins and you finally screamed out the sound of pleasure which you had been subduing the whole ride - the driver unquestionably heard this one.

Once you crossed over the peak your muscles released and you threw your head backwards, stretching your arms to the roof of the car as you let out a gasp of relief.

“Oh, God,” you gushed.

He rose and wiped his lips. With that same smug, satisfied smile on his face, he stretched out his hand towards you and presented you with your thong.

“We’re here.”

#smut #bts #bts fanfic #bts fanfiction #bts scenarios #bts smut #fanfic #min yoongi #yoongi #yoongi x reader #yoongi smut #bts yoongi #suga x y/n #suga smut #bts suga #suga

88 notes · View notes

squidfemme · 5 years

Note

i'm kinda new to the splatoon community on here, do you have any blogs you recommend? thank you so much, i also adore your blog and edits ^^

😍💖😍💖😍💖😍💖!!! Thank you so much!! I adore YOU!

There are a ton of blogs I love so this list is gonna get LONG. My apologies to the peepole on mobile 😔 except not really

That being said:

@joulejay - somehow controversial icon! ✌😝 if you like spicy hot takes such as “racism is bad” and “transphobia is also bad” then This Is the Blog for You! I trust jay with MY LIFE

@dualiesquelcherchristmas - I ALSO TRUST THEM WITH MY LIFE;; despite being 🙅‍♀️ horny on main🙅‍♀️ they also like dualie squelchers so they’re redeemable… anyway if you want the good side of the weaponblog community just go here!! 🔫

@sparklingelite - VERY FUN TO PLAY SALMON RUN WITH I 100% RECOMMEND THAT. Also her art is super cute and I love it!!! 💘💝💖💓

@seasplat - INCREDIBLY talented artist with the best ocs… I just *clenches fist* hhHHhhhH - also legally owns the rights to dedf1sh and made them canonically nb 🤷‍♀️ so

@joast - VERY GOOD ARTIST!!!! 👀💕 WE STAN JOAST HERE; FOLLOW OR YOU’RE NOT VALID! They legit post some of the best stuff I’ve ever seen (esp on their twitter!)

@shoot-and-swim-ab - posts bangin’ wallpapers for all the weapons; you will NOT regret looking at them and you will walk away with like 10 saved to your phone this your Final Warning

@superjumps - they’re my mutual and I like them!! >:( don’t question me just follow

@fizzybombloveblog - an Intellectual who knows the SHEER VALUE of fizzy bombs.. god bless..another great weaponblog 🔫👌

@curlingbombrushes - they’re a BIG inspiration of mine & I LOVE their edits (and their OCs) .. they’re super talented 😩😍

@glaceonn - also does edits, but of the manga panels and THAT SHIT’S IMPRESSIVE!!!💕 … on that note follow @coroinka too!!!

@sheldon-and-coroika-loveblog / @just-sheldon - FANTASTIC SHELDON ART AND MEMES oohhh my god I love their art so much… I hated sheldon before but now I have seen The Light™ and have been cleansed from my sin of not loving him and now You Can Too! 👁👄👁

@freshest-in-inkopolis - showcases people’s snazzy outfits and are now posting guides about abilities & you can submit your Looks™!!! HIGH-KEY RECOMMEND

If you’re into ask blogs, follow @ask-mesh, @ask-decapitated-shoe-marina, and @askbobble for some quality memes content!! Also all of their art is fantastic??

And finally, if you’re into Coroika/the Splatoon manga I would suggest HAULING your ASS over to @n-pacerloveblog, @riderloveblog, @bobblehatloveblog, & @hachi-love-blog just to name a few!!

I got tired of writing things but I also love @cqloveblog & @valentinodel for being cool people and never posting anything that makes me want to gouge out my eyes (minus the bald edits I’m sorry I can’t defend that what the f-) and @conphetticake for their coroika edits!! I just recently found their blog and I LOVE IT! 🤠👌

..there’s also another mutual I love and treasure but I’m not sure if they’d want me to give their blog out so.. this one’s for you buddy 👉💗

#ask #long post

47 notes · View notes

the-revisionist · 7 years

Note

Hi! Just to say, I LOVE your fics! Could you possibly write Things you said on New Year's Eve for Caroline and Gillian? If that's not a good one, then literally any of them will do I'm sure you'll write it perfectly! Thank you

Anon, hope you’re still reading…thank you for kind words and the prompt! Sorry this took longer than anticipated!

This is a companion piece to “Completely Undressed and Mostly Sober in the South of France.” @farminglesbian had suggested a continuation of that in some way and since she controls the Lesbian Empire on the European Continent in an Unspecified Rural Location Where They Are Inclined to Wear Lederhosen I must obey or I may never be allowed in Europe ever again.

This story is a bit of an exercise in style. For dialogue I did not use traditional quote marks. So, you know, it might work, it might not, it’s OK and you can say so, I’m a big girl and I have a lot of wine at the ready, but please don’t be a twat about it.

This one is post-series 4.

faithful misrepresentations

i. it’s time to get the brioches

At 5 a.m. on New Year’s Eve, she apologizes for not shaving her legs.

The morning, blue and black with jagged frost etched across a darkened windowpane, rests at the edge of Caroline’s mind. It’s so terrifyingly early that she doesn’t really want to know the time but cracks open a reluctant eye anyway; the bedroom’s digital clock coolly burns a 5:05 on the inside of her eyelids, the blunt serifs morph into an SOS and she thinks, good God, I am awake at 5 in the morning, this is what I get for sleeping with a farmer. Because Gillian stirs warm and restless against her, driven by the undeniable rhythm of blood that always has her racing against the sunrise and who, because she is apparently the master of not only the unwanted spontaneous confession but also the truly baffling nonsequitur, opts not to say good morning but rather randomly and needlessly apologizes for not shaving her legs before this, their trip to France.

Blind as a kitten, Caroline reaches for her and, half-asleep through a tangle of warm limbs, hones in on her calf; the soft hair tickles, the solid muscle undulates, the raspy glory of skin warms Caroline’s palm. There is a scar on this calf, invisible in the dark but vivid in her mind as a distinct but delicate comet tracing a pale horizon. It was, Gillian told her, caused by a jutting, broken spoke on a wheelbarrow.

That’s when I learned not to do farm work while wearing shorts, she had said.

Caroline replies to the apology by mumbling don’t mind into a pillow; sleepiness translates it into dun mime. She’s cresting the wave back into sleep when she realizes that Gillian is not moving, not rising out of bed with a stretch and a groan and a curse word. Which is odd, because Gillian likes routine. Every morning they’ve been here she’s up before the sun, making herself tea, reading for a bit, and then walking a mile to the village to fetch brioches from a baker amusedly tolerant of an Englishwoman who flirts with her grown son and insists on conversing in rusty French. By the time she returns the brioches are stone cold but she revives them in the oven, makes coffee, and wakes up Caroline by cannonballing onto the bed like a kid on holiday. Winter clings to her skin and clothes but her morning kiss is persistent and sweet and like waking into a warm, summery daydream and not a chilly old French farmhouse lacking proper heat.

She forces herself into a higher level of coherence, clears her throat, firms up a question: You’re not getting up?

Not yet, comes the reply.

In the dark she aims badly for Gillian’s forehead and gently smashes her palm against a nose.

Are you sick?

No. It’s just—we don’t have much time left. Here, I mean. Want to enjoy it.

They return home the day after tomorrow.

By staying in bed as long as possible, Gillian adds as needless clarification.

Under two blankets and a comforter movement is heavy and surreal, a sluggishly sensual underwater ballet. The blankets move as Gillian slides on top of her, exposing Caroline’s shoulder to a rousing chill, which is briefly warmed by Gillian’s mouth before moving along the inlet of the collarbone toward her breast. She spreads her legs, Gillian settles in between them and presses into her, and even though it’s all so new between them—so wonderfully new, she thinks, as Gillian traces the inside of her thigh—she identifies the variance in tempos and moods better now and knows this time will be slow and sweet and hopefully she won’t bang her skull against the quasi-antique headboard again.

You’re giving up brioches for me?

Nah. I’ll get ’em later. Just delaying gratification, as it were.

So—how delayed is gratification when all you’re doing is merely sublimating it with another pleasure?

Even though they can barely see one another in the porous dark, a bluish outline of morning light traces the contours of Gillian’s face and hair and Caroline can see a hitch of expression, a shift of lines as she smiles.

Shut up, you, she says.

ii. continental beauty

For one horrible aching moment—while wiping down a quartz countertop aged to such an extent that it looks as if it’s survived a hundred years of everyday bacchanals, and this is why housework is dangerous and housewives go mad, she thinks, it sets the mind loose to dwell on so much of life’s chaotic cruelty—Caroline realizes that she never had this opportunity with Kate, that is, a long romantic getaway and not just a mucky weekend at a nearby hotel. Even on that modest level she fucked it up nearly beyond repair. Even on vacation with her husband of eighteen years always she felt—she knew—she was a fraud, nothing but a character in one of his novels. Maybe it’s a sign; maybe it means something. Here in this farmhouse in the Rhone Valley hundreds of miles away from home, she waits for the shoe to fall into a dreaded Grand Canyon of unspecified anxiety.

They spent months not talking about what they needed to talk about. It was easy enough to blame a host of things for this: demanding work schedules involving obstreperous students and sheep, parenting thickheaded boys, coparenting a toddler with a knobhead whose taste in women was obviously on the decline, a bountiful supply of excellent wine from a beautiful young woman who simply would not go away, and complete, sheer cowardice. Acceptance of the status quo has always come easily to Caroline, particularly in this instance because she was getting good wine and properly laid on a regular basis—thus her mother’s interrogations and condemnations, her secretary’s prurient questions (“You have it off with Brokeback Shepherd yet?”), and generally everyone’s bewilderment and clumsy emotional tap-dancing around the subject were all easily ignored.

Then last month, during one of those boisterous family dinners where, as was not uncommon, Gillian looked at her in an indescribably aching way—followed by a self-chastising frown, slight shake of the head, and a protective hunch of her shoulders that seemingly closed off any possibility of rapprochement—Gary announced to all present that renovations to his vacation home in France were finally complete. During this interminable period he had gone from referring to the house as a chateau to deeming it a money pit. It was actually an eighteenth-century stone farmhouse, its interior now as rustically authentic as one envisioned by a nouveau riche entrepreneur from Yorkshire, and Caroline twitchingly recalled Gillian’s proposal earlier in the spring—that they would go there for a few days during the summer and work shit out. But summer ripened and withered away and the promise, representing everything that was seemingly lost between them, lingered bitterly.

After dinner Caroline stood in the doorway of Gillian’s kitchen observing their motley, contented family—Raff playing Legos with Calamity and Flora, Lawrence attempting to show his grandfather and Gary how to play Halo Wars 2 on an Xbox, and Celia, post-two glasses of wine, going on about the life of the theater to the clearly bored yet admirably patient Ellie. She felt Gillian’s presence at her side—churning and restless as a spoon stirring a pot, staring at her feet, then a lamp, then her son, and finally fixing that burning gaze of hers on the woman next to her while the back of her hand glided over Caroline’s knuckles, thus causing the latter to force out a surprising hybrid of a squeak and a gasp.

Let’s—let’s do it, she said. Come with me to France.

Five minutes later they were purchasing plane tickets on the mobile.

Five days into this trip she has learned many things about Gillian: she slavishly embraces routine whenever possible, she likes brioches, she’s reading Middlemarch for the third time now but Caroline cannot imagine why because she herself has never made it past page 50, she’s capable of lingering over a cup of tea and not gulping it down because she’s not running late or has a hundred things to do in a day, she thinks MI6 was involved in Princess Diana’s death, she’s takes no firm side in the great over vs. under toilet roll debate—don’t people have anything better to do than argue about toilet paper? she had said—

—and she is an admirer of great beauty because now she barrels through the door after tromping around the countryside for an hour and breathlessly announces, I’m in love.

Caroline imagines herself unseeded by either the baker’s handsome son or the buxom young woman who works the vineyard nearby, the latter spotted the other day during a wine-tasting tour and whose sumptuous cleavage was the focus of surreptitious glances from Gillian. After half a lifetime of stealthily admiring the physical beauty of women, Caroline knows these covert maneuvers when she sees them. Alas, all she has to counter these continental beauties are certain oral skills and her talent for making a certain orange-ginger biscuit that Gillian loves and who knows, perhaps that will save the day, perhaps even as sun perpetually sets on the English empire all that truly matters is cunnilingus, tea, and biscuits.

I’m confident of your ability to attract, she wants to tell Gillian. But not my ability to hold you.

But while hanging up her coat Gillian starts rambling about a ram, a sheep with a fancy French name. She saw him posing on a hillside, broodingly apart from the herd, a Heathcliff among sheep. His markings and coloring exquisite, his horns symmetrical, his poise exceptional—

Before Gillian can declare herself high priestess of this mythic creature’s cult, Caroline—dimly aware of the unseemliness of jealousy over a sheep—interrupts rudely: What’s it called again? A rum-ball merino?

Gillian rolls her eyes. Rambouillet, she says. She grabs a cup for tea. A Rambouillet merino.

Ripe for plucking, the word hangs in the air and Caroline ravenously seeks its source in a kiss. She holds Gillian’s lower lip gently between her teeth, tongue running the plush length of it, tasting salt and mystery because, frankly, women have always been unfathomable to her. Sweetly, wonderfully unfathomable. She starts to unbutton Gillian’s thick, lined plaid shirt—only to discover, underneath, a second plaid shirt thin and soft with age. At which she breaks off the kiss and bursts into laughter.

Jesus Christ, you’re like a flannel onion. Layers and layers.

It’s cold, in case you haven’t noticed, Gillian says—also laughing—as she sits the empty cup on the counter.

I’m trying to warm you up, Caroline replies as she sets in on the second flannel layer. In case you haven’t noticed.

Tossing her arms around Caroline’s neck and pulling her into another kiss, another embrace, Gillian says, I’ve noticed.

She doesn’t feel too distressed about fucking Gary’s sister on Gary’s distressed leather couch—burnished leather, she thinks he called it and the color was Churchill cigar—because there is an old blanket on it and as they fall onto it she doesn’t care about much at the moment except the wonderments and sensations of skin and taste, wondering if Gillian has ever called anyone else baby, Caroline can’t quite imagine that she has and would like to reserve that titular honor as her very own, wondering when the last time someone went down on her properly because her reaction and sheer enjoyment of it make Caroline feel like Aphrodite incarnate coming down from on high and she has to cling to Gillian as if she’s riding a rollercoaster by the skin of her teeth.

Afterward she’s sprawled on the couch wrapped in the comforter Gillian dragged out the bedroom, staring at the crisscross of the ceiling’s dark wood roof beams and with her head pillowed on Gillian’s bare thigh. With one flannel shirt back on, Gillian sits cross-legged while drinking one of Gary’s very pricey local Syrahs and pretending to read Middlemarch, pretending because she’s humming, which she usually does while absorbed in the comforting repetition of a task like washing dishes or mending a shirt or soothing a baby and in this instance the task at hand seems to be slowly, rhythmically running her fingers through Caroline’s hair. I like your—your hair, she had said the other day, shy and stammering and nervous after they made love, as if the gentle offering of a compliment would somehow be virulently rejected, and while Caroline loved the sweet awkwardness of it she hated the man who made Gillian terrified of revealing the slightest vulnerability.

She stares at the shadowed, foreboding ceiling beams, thinks that Gary should have picked a wood of a lighter color because the dark beams make her think of crucifixions.

Say it again, she says to Gillian.

What?

The name of the sheep.

Rambouillet.

Oh, she sighs, that’s lovely.

Unexpectedly Gillian drags her finger, damp and dribbling Syrah, across Caroline’s lips, as if soothing an infant with a taste of milk. You’re really weird, she says.

I’m not the one in love with a sheep, Caroline replies.

iii. the search for intelligent ovine life in the Rhone Valley

The afternoon winter sun, useless and pale, emanates as much heat as the moon. They are out in search of the great Rambouillet merino. Gillian insists she needs to get a better photo of the sheep so she can submit it to something called “Google sheep view” and Caroline, who is perfectly fine with not knowing what the hell that is, is nonetheless curious to know what the fuss is about and accompanies her. Leading the mission, Gillian stalks the dirt backroad that runs behind Gary’s farmhouse with her usual dogged, determined pace. She’s been in a bit of a mood since lunchtime and Caroline knows enough to let her be until she’s ready to talk; it’s likely, though, that she dreads the thought of returning home to the questions, the judgments, the expectations that will be laid at their feet.

She trails behind. Outside of the Yorkshire countryside she has navigated most of her life, her sense of direction is rubbish and she hasn’t a clue where they really are. She sighs and burrows deeper into her scarf. It’s the coldest day of the trip thus far. The stiff, expensive boots she purchased for the trip are pinching her toes and the too-high arches dig into her soles. In the distance she sees the vineyard that they visited days ago, the spherical red caps of the buildings distinct against the pale sky, and has a wince-inducing guilty thought about Olga.

Shortly after committing to this journey, she officially ended it with Olga. It was not so much a breakup as an act of disengagement; some days she actually convinces herself of this. Regardless it required some semblance of fortitude to finally override the guilt-ridden, passive-aggressive lust that propelled the relationship on her part. Olga took it well. She also took a case of an amazing Chenin Blanc from the Loire Valley that she had initially gifted to Caroline and now presumably would bestow upon another boozy, middle-aged lesbian—or, more likely, her ex—both nonetheless worthy of her considerable charm and refined palate, while leaving Caroline to the tender mercies of a sheep farmer overfond of cheap Lambrusco.

She stops for a moment to look at red roofs jutting into milk-white clouds and dwell in the newness of everything—place and memory, time and love—while accepting the sense of loss that perpetually nips at her heels. Snow flurries waltz to the ground.

Then she notices that up ahead on the road Gillian has stopped and turned around. Head tilted, she critically eyes Caroline as she would a lagging, miscreant ewe—as if to say, come along now.

Grimacing, Caroline takes long strides to catch up. She apologizes on arrival, insincerity muffled through the cashmere scarf.

Gillian carries a long, sturdy branch found earlier on the road. Alternately she’s been using it as a walking stick and brandishing it as a weapon, whacking at husked, brittle weeds lining the road, sadistically poking at stones. Idly she whips it around her body while frowning at Caroline.

What were ya doing back there? she asks.

Contemplating life’s mysteries. Appreciating the sublimity of nature. Oh, and staring at your ass. Not necessarily in that order.

Bashful at the compliment, Gillian lowers her head and grins. Then, wryly: So you weren’t stopping ’cause those boots are hurting you?

Not a bit, Caroline lies.

You’re limping, she says, and then nods in the direction of the winery. D’ya think they send out Saint Bernards with little wine flasks to rescue snotty English bitches who don’t wear proper footwear whilst they wander about the countryside?

That would be marvelous.

Gillian points up ahead at a copse of trees. The gesture is so startling and beautiful and confident that Caroline wants to seize her hand—ungloved, snowflake caught and melting on her thumbnail—and kiss it.

Right up there, she says, past those trees, is a shortcut through the wood to the vineyard. If you can make it, we could walk there. Couple glasses might revive you for the walk home.

And if it doesn’t?

Reckon I’ll have to drag you back somehow.

Cavewoman.

Nah. I’m not that strong, Gillian says with a roll of her shoulders, but I’ll give it a go.

Au contraire.

That’s the first bit of French out of your mouth since we got here.

You’ve been doing well enough for both of us, Caroline says, so why bother? She leans into Gillian, quietly pleased at the arm that automatically wraps around her waist. Then she presses her face into the crown of Gillian’s hair, kisses it, and says, I’ve always believed—she begins shakily, pauses clumsily—always known—you’re stronger than you give yourself credit for.

Gillian pulls back and stares at her, unsure if what she’s saying is an obvious revelation or a faithful misrepresentation of the brutal facts that comprise her life. She thinks that Gillian usually skews toward the latter as a default viewpoint, and realizes it may take a lifetime for her to sort it, to undo it. If ever. What surprises Caroline is not this but the belief, settling into her bones and countering her own misguided self-assessments, that she is finally brave enough to be fully present in Gillian’s life.

On the walk home, both of them tipsy and tired, they see the Rambouillet merino ambling across an open field into the setting sun. And he is beautiful.

#are we cool vincent #last tango in sheep infatuation #Caroline x Gillian #ltih

15 notes · View notes

psycho-alchemist · 7 years

Note

oh my god. I'm sorry about what I said about otome games. I was informed that you can have "sex" with them, I found that strange. but after checking "mystic messenger" ( I looked up popular otome) I've changed my mind. I actually think it's quit pure now, and can teach you to live, especially if you're broken like me. Id like to know other otome games I should check out.

:O WOW

I certainly was not expecting this!!

I understand which games you’re talking about! Otome games are really just dating sims. That said, they do sometimes have intimate scenes in them. (SLBP does have some mild intimate scenes, and I’ve played other otome games that are pretty explicit!) I won’t deny that, and I want to be upfront about that. But generally speaking, the games that focus on sex--aka the ones you were thinking of--are called “eroge” (erotic games).

Let’s be real, otome games are largely wish fulfillment. We get to play a dating sim with men who are [often] “perfect,” situations that we’d never find ourselves in, and endings that are [usually] pretty happy and satisfying. But I genuinely do think otome games have also taught me the symptoms of good and bad romantic relationships! Obviously it wouldn’t be fair to expect a real person to be as perfect as a lot of otome men, but they can still be educational. My favorite otome men are respectful, nurturing, teasing without being mean, and open-minded. And on the other hand, I’ve seen otome men who are rude, mean, violent, selfish, and insecure. Yes, some girls still like those awful otome men--I did too when I was a teenager--but I grew out of that phase. :)

So, I have played a shit ton of otome games over the years, and I honestly can’t remember all the titles. However, I made a list of otome game recommendations about a year ago that is still pretty current! The only ones not on that list are Mystic Messenger (which you’ve already seen) and Shall We Date? Modern Cinderella (which is also really good). So check out that list, but I’ll also put a list here of my favorite otome games that I still play:

Samurai Love Ballad: Party - The man from my mobile header, Katakura Kojuro, is from this game! I usually don’t play Sengoku games, but SLBP is really well-made and really interesting. The men are diverse (and H O T), and there’s a pretty large fandom! And TWELVE routes, which is very rare. Most otome games have 3-6 guys. There are also a lot of events, so even if you finish all the routes, there are still battle events and story events (basically extra stories) you can read!

Mystic Messenger - There isn’t much to say about this game since you’ve already found it, but I do really like it. Cheritz is really good about keeping the game current and well-formatted. The underlying story is pretty complex, and you learn different things about the storyline through each route. And Lovely Zen is just.....

My Forged Wedding: Party - If you love the “fake lovers/fake engaged” trope, you will LOVE this game. MC’s fiancee breaks up with her, and she has to play fake lovers with one of the six guys. Unfortunately there are no longer active events and stuff, but the story routes are great! Before Kojuro, Yamato was my #1 otome husband. And honestly, he is the first otome man who showed me that marriage doesn’t have to be screaming and yelling and hating each other (which is what I grew up with).

Sleepless Cinderella: Party - I love all of the guys in this game. Which is rare, because most games have like one needlessly angsty guy or one psychopath. But I think the guys in SCP are really well-balanced, and their routes just felt very real to me. They didn’t feel overly dramatic for me personally. And actually, my very first favorite otome man (Yuzuki) came from this game! People who have been following me for a long time may remember the days when I fangirled over Yuzuki all the time :’>

Shall We Date? Modern Cinderella - I really like this game also because it feels very real to me! MC isn’t some spectacular person, making her easy to relate to, but she also undergoes a lot of realistic character development. She’s smart and talented, which is pretty rare! I haven’t had an issue with most of the MCs in the mentioned otome games, but ModCin’s MC is a tier above most otome MCs. And of course, the guys are great! Their personalities are less exaggerated than other otome men, so they end up feeling less like wish fulfillment and more like guys you could actually meet irl, if that makes sense.

Shall We Date? Love Tangle - Like ModCin, Love Tangle’s MC is very likable. She’s very smart, and she’s an independent thinker. She doesn’t have a crazy job like a reporter or anything; she’s a scientist. And having an otome MC in a STEM field is, uhh, NONEXISTENT. Also like ModCin, I feel like the guys are pretty realistic. Maybe not as much as ModCin (which is a newer game), but still pretty real!

Hopefully this helps you out a little c: If you have any specific preferences--game settings, types of guys, anything like that--feel free to send me another ask :)

#otome #otome game #otome rec #ask p-a #Anonymous

6 notes · View notes

derrickperegrine · 7 years

Note

REB!!! CONGRATS ON 666 !!! forgive me father for i have sinned (I'm not gonna kink shame,,, but... 👀) 😂💕

PJ!!! THANK YOU SO MUCH DARLING 😭 hehe sorry, i saw the chance and i took it

reb celebrates 666

#userpj #hate the sin love the sinner #owl post #answered

3 notes · View notes

itwilltoteshappen · 7 years

Note

So...he signed with Syco in January and they literally brought Eleanor back a week later lmao. It's wild...Syco is so sloppy with everything they do they couldn't even try to be more subtle. And then the staged pap fight at the airport. And Ann Marie showing up to his house. I know people want to see the positives and I'm glad for them but I don't find it coincidental that right after he signs a solo deal he gets a scandal . I just feel so heartbroken for him b/c he deserved a fresh start too💔

Hey bub. I'm sorry you're feeling sad. And I get it because Louis does deserve the best. Recently I've had quite a few conversations off blog with people where I've talked about how Louis is an absolute DREAM client. He has a built in extremely loyal fan base who got his first song INCREDIBLY high in the charts in both the U.K. (During a wildly competitive time) and also the US, he is extremely talented, and he's just a lovely person in general without any real scandals (except for a stupid fucking bullshit arrest that will never fail to make me beyond angry whenever I think about it but could also be easily spun because HE DID NOT DO ANYTHING WRONG and I'm gonna stop talking about it before I get super angry again). ANYWAY. I'll be honest, I've mostly been offline since around 6, but how do we know he signed in January? From the (admittedly very little) bit I've read so far, I actually do personally believe the full record contract wasn't signed until more recently for a couple reasons. First, I think JHO was a test of sorts. Depending on my mood and weather and how low my blood sugar is at any given moment, I may even argue that it WAS an attempt to sabotage him. To put him in his place if you will. A kind of "look you tried your best but you still didn't succeed as a solo artist so maybe you should stick to behind the scenes stuff, kid." But then the fans rallied and foiled those plans. At least that's what I'd like to think to explain why there was no real promo for it from louis' team. Once that ended up doing well they were like well shit. Maybe they can make money off him after all and decided to sign him. Now I obviously don't know all the ins and outs of his contract. I assume it was a matching clause issue. I also will fight to the death for the idea that Louis did not have to sign a record contract with any label if he did not want to, particularly if he decided he wanted to stick to the EDM world which seems to be going in the direction of only singles rather than full albums. He also has enough connections to release something independently if he wanted to. He could easily build up enough name and face recognition being a brand ambassador or doing tv personality gigs or shit I will still fight for Actor Louis because if he wanted to he could totally kick ass at it. My point is, he's not desperate. He doesn't NEED to have a label if he doesn't want it. In general, I'm the type of person who tries to see the good in situations. I'm not one for handwringing before we have details. And if it IS a shit deal and he does end up getting dicked over them yeah that sucks. It absolutely sucks because we know how he deserves so much more. But the way I see it is fretting about it before we know anything isn't going to help. It's just going to make you more miserable. So I'm popping on my rose colored glasses and saying WE GET A WHOLE ALBUM OF JUST LOUIS. Songs he wrote. Songs he's going to sing. Songs that will make us feel a million and one things because that's what he does. And we're going to get more tweets where he teases us and then watches our reactions because you know he loves that shit. And then tweets a shady sunglasses emoji to show us he knows. And we're going to get pictures like him on set of his music video where he's smiling so big and bright because he's getting to do what he loves to do. Those are the things I'm focusing on. Anyway. I've now written an entire essay drunk in the back of a cab (what else is new) and I hope this makes sense. At this point I don't even remember the initial question and I'm on mobile and can't really look at it now so I hope this actually answers what you were asking. I'm just gonna end this by saying how much I fucking love Louis Tomlinson. The end.

11 notes · View notes

agentexeider · 7 years

Text

Zootopia: Kaiden’s Story...Chapter 10: Welcome to the 204th

Sorry for the huge delay in my production schedule, the holidays and life came up, hopefully I can start to get back into the swing of things and update more often.

Chapter 10: Welcome to the 204th

A month later…

Kaiden and squad had settled into the nuances of working with the Army, learning how to work with a larger cohesive system. The fiends had been assigned to Kit's squad which was "A" squad of Bravo Company.

The one thing that wasn't expected was the fact that with the 'fiends' now under the auspices of military authority meant that for the first time in a long time, Jarod was not in charge and this was a position he didn't tolerate. After being verbally smacked down by the Major twice, he relented and accepted his fate though it didn't help his disposition on the matter.

Initially it seemed that actual work involved what appeared elementary to the 'fiends', as they were used to more direct actions against many of the MIA's targets, this concept of scouting, the occasional firefight but for the most part, doing what they were told regardless of the apparent nonsensical nature of it was as best described 'Easy'.

Though Jarod would mutter a few incomprehensible phrases about the idea, the occasional understood phrases of "waste of talent" And "beneath us" would come out of his mouth. Everything was going smoothly, until one botched scouting mission, a mission that should have fallen well within the aforementioned difficulty or lack thereof. Yet this time, it was because of a 'difference in style' is how Jarod would describe it.

Two Humvees raced into the camp that had been established, tents and other non permanent structures were dotted in the area, looking around it had a sense of permanence, of structure, like a small village much like the ones they were used to seeing, yet at a moment's notice the whole camp could be packed away and all evidence of their presence left to be buried by a good gust of wind, scattering and burying their pawprints and post holes.

"MEDIC!" called out Kit as his Humvee came to a rapid halt, the dirt crunching under the tires.

The second Humvee containing the rest of his team including the 'fiends' halted just behind them.

As they arrived, medical personnel raced toward them to tend to the wounded. Kit quickly described the nature of each member's injuries. The medics managed to escort those still able to walk into the nearby hospital tent, while those unable, were put on stretchers and carried in. The rapid bustle ended as quickly as it started.

Kaiden jumped out of the vehicle and stepped over to Kit.

"Look I just wanted to say I was sorry that it went down like that," apologized Kaiden.

The fox quickly found himself pinned against the Humvee, the large blonde wolf holding him there, nose to nose, teeth bared and a very surly expression.

"I don't know what they taught you at 'spook school' but the one thing, the one thing we do not do is leave a mammal behind!" exclaimed Kit.

"WE DON'T LEAVE ANYONE BEHIND!" exclaiming louder almost a scream.

"Do you understand that?!" asked Kit, a few dots of saliva spattering against Kaiden's face.

"I'm sorry." Kaiden replied, the only reply he could muster.

It was at this time that they noticed the lynx had stepped out of the Humvee and was standing next to the pair.

"Get your paws off my agent, wolf!" demanded Jarod sternly.

"And don't blame him for the incompetence of your troopers." He added.

Kit's expression of anger turned incredulous as he spun his head to face Jarod

"What the fuck did you just say?"

"You heard me, don't you dare blame you casualties on him, he cannot be held liable for the incompetence of your staff." Said Jarod

Kit spun the rest of himself to face Jarod and took a step towards the lynx.

"Keep talking fucker, and the corpsman will have another casualty to deal with."

"Corporal Ballanger!" called out the Major.

The heads of the group turned in the direction of the voice, the Major was walking fast towards their position and was not happy.

"What in the blue fuck happened out there?!" the major demanded.

"Scouting mission sir, completely FUBAR." Kit replied.

"Let me guess, another difference of opinion in command styles." The major replied looking at Kit and then at Jarod.

The major pointed at the "fiends".

"You four, get your shit and go to your tent, stay there until I come and deal with you…NOW!" He bellowed.

The four gathered their gear and walked away from the Humvees making a line directly for the tent they had been assigned. Leaving Kit to be dressed down by the major.

They had not been sitting five minutes when the major came in. At first they stood up to salute him.

"Don't fucking bother, it's very clear you four don't have any respect for us or what we do. Jarod, we need to talk, come with me."

The Lynx followed the Major to speak in the command tent, Kaiden looked out the tent flap and saw Kit standing outside of the hospital tent, he wanted to finish their conversation. Kaiden approached the wolf. Kit scoffed as he caught sight of the fox.

"Fuck, I don't need any more of this." The wolf turned to go into the tent.

Kaiden quickly stepped in front of him holding out his paws.

"Wait, wait, please. Just let me talk."

"Fine." Kit replied folding his arms.

"Jarod says things sometimes, but I don't agree with it. I'm sorry about what he said, I'm sorry about what happened to your squad."

"Sorry that doesn't change the fact that they're injured or that there is a very good possibility someone might die. Sometimes people make mistakes you just can't take back." Replied Kit.

"I know, and if you only knew what the MIA has had us do…I don't, I mean I thought I knew what things where, the black and white of it. But I've learned that it's anything but. I'm…"

"Conflicted?" asked Kit

"Yeah." Kaiden replied

"Well it sounds like to me you need to come to a decision," stated Kit as he opened the tent flap.

"Decision? About what?" asked Kaiden puzzled.

"About what kind of fox you want to be, because it sounds to me that you have a problem with the MIA and the way they do things. So maybe you need to have a serious moment with yourself and make that decision." Pointed Kit at Kaiden's chest.

"So while you're having your existential crisis, I need to tend to my troopers, excuse me." scoffed Kit as he left Kaiden there with his thoughts.

A few days later…

The major had called all the squad leaders into command tent for a mission briefing. The objective was to make a push into South Mousel to gain strategic ground, with secondary objective to capture any of the high value targets they may find. The latest reports had shown the insurgency was fortifying their positions in the south end of the city and the 204th along with several other battalions were going to be part of this larger offensive push.

After the briefing each squad leader was handed their maps and they went back to their respective squads to pack up their equipment and brief them on their respective portions of the overall mission. Corporal Ballanger had managed to get the two wounded members of his squad replaced with reassignments from Bravo and Charlie.

Several hours later after the encampment had been packed and the Battalion ready to move, Kit along with his squad and the fiends took to their Humvees. Kaiden had decided to ride with Kit this time, still feeling guilty over the troopers that had been "Cas-Evaced" days prior.

As the Battalion pulled out and made their way towards to their destination, the occasional radio chatter breaking the silence, The driver would chat about the strange nature of perception when running on no sleep, at how the sun looked red yet was supposed to be yellow, as well as all other manner of strange conversation brought upon by too much stimulants and not enough sleep.

This was the nature of this job, long stretches of boredom punctuated by frenetic high energy moments and the realization of one wrong moment and death is what waits. Of seemingly perpetual exhaustion but to anxious to actually feel tired, the buzzing of tension in the brain of wanting to be both asleep and awake. There was a palpable tension in the Humvee knowing they were heading towards a major battle.

After some time they started to hear it, the clatter of gunfire, the occasional deep pop of an exploding munition followed by its resonating echo.

"OK, check and charge weapons." Ordered Kit, speaking to the mammals in his vehicle.

Kaiden slid the bolt back on his rifle, and charged a round into the chamber; the mammal to his left checked his S.A.W. (Squad Automatic Weapon) and then stood up and charged the .50 caliber mounted weapon on the roof.

They saw a vehicle up ahead from Alpha company taking fire, the private on the .50 squeezed the trigger, firing in a short burst. "Dakka-Dakka-Dakka" resounded the weapon.

The insurgents took notice to the new players on their field, turning their fire towards Kit's vehicle, the 'pings' and clunks of the weapons fire bouncing off their vehicle, and the occupants taking shots at the insurgents coming into their respective firing arcs. A cacophony of weapons fire.

"Pearson, move left, give me a better angle." Shouted Kit.

The young feline in the driver's seat jerked the wheel left giving Kit, Kaiden and the .50 caliber private on top ample firing opportunity.

The air filled with bullets from their weapons, laying into two windows and a balcony killing the occupants inside.

"Corporal, we got foot-mobiles!" called out the porcine private on the .50.

"Pearson forward, forward!" Kit directed with his paw.

Pearson hit the gas, the engine roared, the Humvee lurching forward trying to get closer to their compatriots, there was a small rubble pile between them and the vehicle.

"Alpha Vehicle, this is Bravo actual, Interrogative, What are you casualties, Over?" Asked Kit over the comms.

Kit quickly checking the list of callsigns on his sheet for Alpha Company.

"Acacia Victor, this is Blackthorn actual, How copy?"

"Shit!" Kit exclaimed once he realized they were unable to respond.

"Pearson, over the rubble pile, put us between them and the fire."

Pearson roared the engine as the thick radials gripped into the rubble and they slowly climbed over. Such a thing would be difficult under normal circumstances, and even more dangerous in a firefight. The Humvee bounced over the rubble, its occupants being thrown side to side as they came down the pile.

Coming into the hail of gun fire as they placed themselves between the shot up vehicle and the insurgents, the members of the humvee returned fire, the boar on the .50 caliber opened up, unleashing the heavy metal fury upon the nearby building, peppering it with holes, occasionally one of the bursts of fire would stop abruptly indicating a kill. Within seconds practically every square inch of the building had bullets flying through it and the firefight came to a dramatic conclusion, the return fire stopped and they waited a moment. Quiet except the distant popping of gunfire though it seemed that their volleys had eliminated this building as a threat.

Kit got out of the vehicle and went to check the other and its occupants. They were all dead, the driver and vehicle C.O. burnt, the other two in the rear of the vehicle dead from several gunshot wounds. Kit took a moment of silence for them before turning to climb back into his vehicle ordering Pearson to move on.

They continued to press their advance along with the other units until they got to their deployment area. Parking the vehicle along the side of the street, they dismounted, taking up line positions behind Kit who was guiding them along the rest of the length of the street. Other soldiers were deploying along their respective streets as well, securing this section of the city. Kit and squad went from door to door, securing the area.

They walked by a store, a parked car in front of it, a convenience store. Kaiden's ear twitched when he heard the click, the next thing he knew, he felt a rush of sensation, he found himself staring up at the sky. Rolling on his side, taking notice of the ringing in his ears. Regaining some of his bearings, thoughts came rushing back to him.

It was an IED, an Improvised Explosive Device, it had been placed in the parked car and one of the squad had triggered it as they passed.

Kaiden could hear muttering, a few loud expletives from nearby, his vision focused as he saw Kit kneeling down tending to Pearson, whom the former dragged the latter into the nearby convenience store, which now had its front window blown out. The feline had a piece of shrapnel tear across his chest and the wolf was doing his best to tend to him, Kit himself had a leg wound that was dripping, staining his tan colored desert fatigues a red hue.

"Come on Pearson, stay with me man, you're going to be alright." said Kit through frantic breath.

Kaiden got up and lurched toward them, as he past the front, Kaiden took notice of what seemed like a pile of fur, a pool of blood and entrails, culminating in a pair of fatigued and booted feet. It was the boar that Kaiden had been sitting next to in the vehicle, he never did get his name. He paced over to Kit and sat on the floor.

Kit had managed to stabilize Pearson, thankfully, or rather incidentally the deeper wound where the shrapnel actually lay lodged in Pearson's shoulder area was hot enough to have cauterized the wound. So long as no one attempted to actually remove said shrapnel it would act as a plug to keep Pearson's blood volume inside him, Kit knew not to even attempt to remove it, for it would start a blood geyser that he wouldn't be able to stop, pouring water over i to irrigate and cool it, and a loose sterile dressing was all that he could do, that and try to keep Pearson conscious. Kaiden was just starting at the fur and blood pile.

"You hurt anywhere?" Kit asked.

Kit clapped his paws once to get Kaiden's attention, who the fox spun his head around.

"What?" he asked.

"I said 'Are you hurt?'"

Kaiden looked down at himself, checking for wounds, not finding any.

"No, I guess I'm just dazed."

"Good, Pearson's not good, I'm going to need to get him 'Cas-Evaced', and I can't carry him out of here."

Kaiden levied his finger at the fur pile.

"What…What happened to…"

"…He took the brunt of the blast, was killed instantly." Kit replied, finishing the fox's thought.

"Help me." Kit requested, pointing towards his own bleeding leg.

Kaiden helped Kit, acting as a second pair of paws, tending to his leg wound, adding a clotting powder to the wound, and kit placing gauze and wrapping his leg tightly in a dressing.

"God damn that stuff burns," grunted Kit.

"Why can't we just get back to the Humvee?" asked Kaiden.

Kit answered that by reaching over and pulling out the key ring from Pearson's chest pocket, holding up the ring. The shrapnel mangled the keys on its way up his chest.

"That answer your question?" groaned Kit.

"Shit." Kaiden replied.

"Yes, and a lot of it, apparently." Kit replied.

"What are we going to do?" asked Kaiden.

Kit thought about it for a moment, trying consider his options but mainly whether to put his life and Pearson's life in the hands of this fox.

"You're going to go get help." Kit stated matter of factly.

"By myself?" asked Kaiden for clarity

"Yep." Kit replied.

"I can't move Pearson and I can't walk, at least not without help. You have to do it," said Kit.

"I won't even get a block before I get picked off," countered Kaiden.

"Yes you can, listen, most of the bad guys we killed just getting in here, as long as you head back north you'll be fine. Besides, you don't have to go all the way back just enough to get a radio call. Backup or a Casevac, which ever you can get your paws on."

"And you'll be alright while I'm gone, right?" asked Kaiden

"Look, I can't predict the future, I have no idea who's going to come through that door, but if you hurry there and back, we can likely all go home. I need you to dig deep on this one. Don't think, just go." Kit replied.

Kaiden mustered himself and grabbed his weapon off the floor. Standing up, his sense of balance returning to him, walking out the blown out window he turned to see Kit and Pearson.

"I promise, I'll be back." He said.

"I'll hold you to it," Kit replied.

Without another word Kaiden started to make his way back up the street. Passing the now useless Humvee, he grabbed a couple extra magazines of ammo, tucking them into his vest. Making his way North again. Walking over to the next block he stuck to the sidewalk, the blown out and shot up buildings, cars they passed on their way in seemed a lot more bleak on the second viewing. Another block northward, he stopped at a corner and tried his radio.

"This is Blackthorn one four to any friendly units, I need assistance, how copy?" spoke Kaiden into his radio.

Letting go of the transmit button he listened to the static that was on the line, hearing the distant rumbles and pops of war around him.

"This is Blackthorm one four to any friendly units, anyone at all, how copy?" he spoke again into the radio.

Craning his head leftward and spotted movement, a squad of about 8 insurgents came walking down the way, they hadn't noticed him. Wide eyed and heart racing, he ran down the block until he found a boarded up living space, the best description would be a small efficiency apartment of one room, and small to boot. He kicked in the door, practically diving inside as he saw the squad come rounding the corner with haste but not to battle him. He closed the door, but in his efforts to gain entry he broke the door and it would not stay closed. Grabbing a nearby chair and propping up against the door keeping it shut but not locked or barricaded by any stretch of the imagination.

If they decided to start trying doors, they would surely find this one open, and a worthy kill inside. Kaiden was stuck, the only window was next to the door facing the street, it was boarded up but leaving enough gaps for rifle barrels. What once was a home to a mammal would now be the perfect killing floor for him, should they find him. Kaiden pressed himself into the farthest corner he could find levying his weapon at the door. The quiet, the heat, the sweat. Kaiden's heart raced, his panting soft but audible, fear racing through him. He could hear them approaching and the thoughts rolling through his head over and over again "Please walk by, please walk by."

Trying to force himself to breathe slower and more quietly made his chest burn as they approached. He could hear them speaking in their guttural native language as they stopped in front of the space. One of the boards popped off and a flashlight beam at the end of a rifle came through the hole, the beam started at the other end of the room. Kaiden dropped to the floor, quickly kneeling behind a wide recliner nearby. Heart pounding in his chest, trying not to second guess, or make any sudden moves. One error here would mean certain death.

The flashlight beam took several sweeps in what seemed like eternity, before just as quickly as it came, it left, gun barrel and all. More soft guttural words and the retreating paw steps of the death squad seemingly satisfied at finding nothing. Kaiden waited several moments after the silence resumed before he could loosen his stance and heave a heavy sigh of relief and the burst of cold sweat that followed. He panted loudly catching his breath, his chest still burning upon each intake. He stood up, grabbing his weapon from off the floor, he carefully walked over to the window, looking out through the new hole from the removed board, scanning the street, no one in sight.

Kaiden practically jumped out of his fur when the radio chirped and words came out of it

"Blackthorn one four, Blackthorn one four, this is Timbermill, how copy?"

Kaiden turned down the radio in his ear, and heaved a small chuckle. "Timbermill" was the code name for battalion headquarters which means they must have heard his transmission.

"Timbermill, holy shit, it's good to hear your voice, this is Blackthorn one four, I need assistance my squad is down, repeat my squad is down. One KIA, two wounded. Both stable but one in critical condition, I need Casevac on the double. How copy?"

A few moments passed before he got a reply.

"Blackthorn one four, switch to coded channel Sierra one dash alpha, break break. "

Kaiden frantically tried to see the selector switches against the dark, switching to the appropriate frequency and coded channel.

"This is Blackthorn one four, switched to coded frequency, Romeo two Romeo" spoke Kaiden, indicating he was 'ready to receive' whatever message.

"Kaiden…this is Jarod." Spoke the lynx.

"Jarod? What's going on?"

"You need to evacuate the area now." Spoke Jarod.

"I have two men down here, I need back up or at least Casevac." Explained Kaiden.

There was a heavy breath on the line before he got his reply.

"Negative." Replied Jarod

"Negative what? Negative on transmission or Negative on availability?"

"Negative, as in we are not sending you anything. You need to get out of there."

"But the mammals here–" Kaiden started

"–are expendable." Finished Jarod.

"What?!" Kaiden asked incredulously.

"The plan was never to take the south end of the city by a ground assault, there were too many insurgents. It was only to stir the hive enough to make them swarm so we could hit them hard with something else."

"Which is?" demanded Kaiden

"Aerial Bombardment." Jarod answered.

"You're telling me you sent troops in here to bomb them along with the enemy?"

"In short, yes, there is no time to explain, you have to get out of their now." Explained Jarod

"And what about Kit and Pearson?"

"Casualties of war."

"You bastard." Whispered Kaiden.

"It was not my choice, Kaiden, I didn't want for us to be here in the first place remember?"

"Now get your ass out of the kill zone before you become a casualty too."

Kaiden stopped and realized the reality of the situation.

"Roger, transmission received." Kaiden spoke clicking off the radio.

He winced and gritted his teeth in frustration. Kit's words echoing in his ears. "We don't leave anyone behind."

"Son of a bitch." Kaiden spoke with conviction, an idea crossing his mind.

Without delay he grabbed his weapon and flung open the door, checked the street and quickly went towards his objective.

Minutes later, Kaiden arrived at the torn up vehicle they had encountered before, opening the doors and pulling out the dead corpses.

"I'm sorry guys, but I need this to save my friends." He apologized, hoping that in spirit they understood what he was trying to do.

Jumping into the vehicle he tried to turn the engine over. It groaned and grunted but failed to start.

"Come on…Come on god damn it!" he cursed at the Humvee.

Starting it again, it groaned and grunted again but this time sprang to life, it's V8 turbo diesel roaring to life.

"Yes!" Kaiden celebrated as he put it in gear.

Driving quickly back towards the convenience store as quickly as he could.

Minutes later…

Bursting around the corner Kaiden almost passed the store, screeching the vehicle to a halt, scrambling out of the vehicle, to collect Kit and Pearson.

"Holy crap, that's certainly surprising." said Kit.

"Come on, we got to go." Kaiden said urgently as he collected Pearson.

"What's going on?" asked Kit

"I don't have time to explain, we just have to go, like now!" Kaiden fired back.

Putting Pearson in the back seat, and Kit in the front passenger, helping to strap them both in. Kaiden jumped back into the driver's seat and turned the vehicle around, ramming into the nearby junked out car before screeching back down the road. The Humvee's engine roaring as he presses the gas.

"What the hell is going on Kaiden?" Demanded Kit.

"The plan, the whole plan, it's completely fucked." Said Kaiden.

"You're not making any sense." Kit shook his head.

"The god damn plan, it was never about the ground assault, they just wanted to get them to gather in one spot."

"And then what?"

Kaiden mimicked a plane with his paw, and then drew a line, whistling a falling sliding tone as his finger moved downward, and then mimicked an explosion sound as he opened his paw.

"Fuck you…No way they would approve bombing their own men." Kit shook his head incredulously.

"I don't think it was the Army's idea." Replied Kaiden

Kit thought about it and realized what the fox was insinuating.

"You mother fuckers." He shook his head disapprovingly.

"Hey, not my idea either," The fox retorted."

"Let me guess, just following orders, huh?" Kit asked angrily.

"Hey asshole, I didn't say I agree with it, and no, I'm not following orders."

"How so?"

"I was ordered to leave you behind." Kaiden fired back.

Kit was taken aback by that statement, not sure whether it was the fact that the fox was ordered to leave them, or the fact that he came back anyway.

"I remembered what you said 'No one gets left behind'" Kaiden smiled.

"Thanks." Kit replied sincerely.

Kaiden managed to get to out of the winding streets and onto the main highway, gunning the engine as hard as he could, trying to pick up as much speed as vehicle would take. The roar of plane engines overhead, the swoop of a metal airframe. The sound of intense explosions ringing out, plumes of fireballs and black smoke shooting skyward, getting closer and closer. The bombing runs were commencing, each explosion louder and louder, the fire closer and closer. Though they didn't say it, they could both swear they felt the heat of them.

"Come on, get this fucking tub moving!" cursed Kit.

"Hey, you think I want to die out here, I'm trying!" replied back Kaiden.

The multiple pops piling onto top of one another, the bombardment getting closer, the anxiety and fear gripping at them. Kit looked back as he felt an intense rush of air pass over them. Kit's mouth dropped and his eyes wide, Kaiden hadn't seen fear on the wolf's face before and that fact was enough to do so made his mind wonder what he was looking at. Peering into the left mirror all Kaiden saw was a wall of fire coming at them, like a pyroclastic flow, a wall of burning death. The wind kicked up dirt, and the sunlight seemed to drain away. The dust plumes washed over them and now driving practically blind, the sand gave the air a dark tan hue, bits of sand gave the air a gritty taste, trying their best not to breathe it in.

They just hoped the road was still clear of obstructions for they wouldn't have much warning if there was, if the signs on the side of the road were any indication. They would simply materialize from a vague shadow, then come close and pass by all within seconds. The fact that they had not been roasted alive yet was a good sign, perhaps they would live to see another day.

After another twenty minutes of driving they came out of the cloud, looking back they realized that the bombardment kicking up the sand and dust created a break in the heat of the sun, which in turn created its own sandstorm. Which gave way to the subsequent 'shamal' or northerly wind. Shamals were weather patterns where the cooler wind from the North would wash over an area creating high winds, stinging sands and even lower visibility than what they just endured. From their vantage point they could see the dark tan clouds moving toward the city, and suddenly the rushed conflict seemed to make sense. In this area of the world the one thing that can stop the fighting are Shamals, it's the one thing where anyone with a brain in their head simply packs it in and bunkers down for the duration, and a big caveat of any modern technological army is that all forms of air cover or support cannot fly in such conditions. Taking stock in their situation, what had happened, they drove silently back to the Northern headquarters.

A few days later…North Mousel, Irat, Regional Airport.

Kit was sitting on the rear ramp of a C-130 Hercules a number of pieces of cargo dotted around the aircraft but focusing mainly on the nearby metal cases, coffins containing his squad mates. Reflecting pensively as his left foot paw twitched nervously against the metal ramp.

Kaiden had walked into view, a packed duffle over his shoulder, unsure about whether or not to approach, he waited until Kit noticed him.

"So I take it you're on your way out of here?" Kit asked.

"Yeah. The MIA finally sent a plane for us." Kaiden replied meekly

"Yeah, well I can't say I'm going to lose any sleep that you're leaving." Kit replied coldly.

"I deserve that." Kaiden replied.

"That and so much more." Kit interjected.

"I want you to take a look around, just look." Kit added, gesturing with his paw.

"These are the bodies of some good mammals, who followed orders, did the job they were asked, and got fucked over for it." Kit said sternly

"I had nothing to do with that." Kaiden responded.

"I know, trust me, I know. If you did, you'd be in one of these boxes already." Kit replied.

Kaiden stood stunned.

"You came back for us, Pearson and me, I won't forget that. But I think you need to start realizing who you're actually working for, and the level they will go to, to achieve whatever the hell it is they do."

"I'm serious kid, the people you're working for don't seem to care about the mammal cost of what it is they're doing." Kit finished.

Kaiden noticed that Kit was holding something in his paws, a pair of epaulets.

"What do you have there?" the fox asked.

Kit stared down at his paw, letting out a sad huff, showing the front of the epaulets. They had three chevrons denoting sergeant rank, a battlefield promotion. Normally this would be a cause for celebration and congratulations but these were clearly not normal times.

"I'd been busting my hump to get sergeant stripes, every single one of these guys knew it. And now that it's actually here, I don't have anyone to share it with. Hell, part of me knows the only reason I got these is because most of the sergeants in my unit are dead, sitting here on this plane anyway."

"Don't say that Kit, I've seen you doing your job, you of all people deserve to command." Said Kaiden.

Kit looked back up at the fox, unsure of how to reply.

"Yeah well, unfortunately for me I don't have anyone else left to command." Kit replied

"Would it help to say that I'm sorry?" Kaiden asked.

"Maybe–Eventually, but right now, no– Right now I just want to be left alone."

"Ok, I can understand." Kaiden replied gripping his duffle tighter.

The fox turned to walk away and paced a few steps before looking back.

"See you around?" he asked.

The wolf turned back to the fox, understanding that he was trying to reach out, knowing he was trying to empathize. Kit huffed again and smirked.

"Yeah, sure." He replied calmly.

#zootopia #fanfic #fanfiction #zootopia: shadows in the dark #zootopia: kaiden's story

6 notes · View notes