#yeah this was originally my idea for the set but i was too eager to post as i made them soooo | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

user211201 · 7 months ago

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Originally posted on 2020-05-27 by dumb-and-jocked

Unfortunately dumb-and-jocked's account has been deactivated.

If the original author ever reads this: thank you for all your works!

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Zane wasn’t particularly excited about going out to his uncle’s ranch. The two had never really known how to connect, with one being from the East Coast and the other in rural Wyoming. Zane had grown up privileged in the urban lifestyle, with many stores, jobs, and more progressive influences around every corner. His parents were also a little richer than most, so he was able to enjoy a luxurious apartment all to himself while he attended Yale. Well... not all to himself. His boyfriend Kaeden visited so often he was practically a second resident, but Zane didn’t mind--he loved the attention.

Zane practically adored his modern lifestyle, and made sure to show it by never leaving a five-mile radius. This caused his parents to worry, assuming if he didn’t start now he’d never know how to go out on his own. Trying to help (like all parents did), his father spoke with his brother and the two set up a little spring vacation for Zane. When Zane’s father had proposed the idea, Zane didn’t exactly jump in excitement. In fact, he didn’t seem excited at all.

“Really?” Zane asked coarsely. “Spring break is for beaches, coasts, actual fun!”

“Zane,” his father replied coolly. “I didn’t raise you to be a leech off of my own money. Go out to your uncle’s ranch and give him a hand; earn something for once. And anyway, Wyoming’s great this time of year--you might enjoy it!”

“Can I at least bring Kaeden with me?”

His father’s eyes went down for a moment. Zane always had a lurking feeling that his father wasn’t truly alright with his only son being gay, his Western Christian roots molding him that way, but his dad always acted like he was accepting. Proving Zane’s point, he swore he could’ve seen his dad’s ears perk up a second after the proposal was made.

“That’s a great idea!” his dad cheered, almost too enthusiastically. “Now someone can relish in the same pain you’ll be experiencing.” Zane rolled his eyes in response to the sarcasm before walking out to his car.

Reflecting back on that moment, his father did seem a little more eager than usual, but Zane didn’t care. It was too late now, as the old pickup truck was pulling into the driveway of the ranch. A huge arch loomed above them, displaying “WELCH” in iron letters across the top. Back when it used to be his grandparents’ ranch, Zane’s father loved this place. He used to thrive as a cowboy, but once he got a taste of the other side of the Mississippi, he left the lifestyle behind him. The rest of the family seemed alright with the transition, with Zane’s uncle being the older brother anyway, meaning he would be taking the ranch, so they decided to let him roam. His uncle had now been running the ranch for almost ten years, just him, his wife, and a small crew to help with the daily tasks.

“Alright, boys, enjoy the trip,” the man in the front grunted as he halted to a stop. Kaeden and Zane slowly jumped out of the truck, grabbing their bags as they looked at the massive farm. Zane swore it looked bigger than the last time he was here, but that was to be expected. The last time he was here was a decade ago for his grandparents’ funerals, so there was probably going to be change. While Kaedan gazed around in awe, Zane spotted what--or who--he was looking for. Leaning against one looming building was a tall man wearing a blue button-up and worn-out jeans. His large boots were placed firmly on the ground and a barn wall, while a beige hat rested proudly on top of his head. He looked like a more muscular, worn-out version of his father, his similar salt and pepper stubble pulling the whole look together.

“Zaney boy, is that yeu?” the man asked in astonishment, the southern accent as prominent as ever.

“Yeah, Uncle Treyton.”

Zane tried to sound enthusiastic, but he never felt like family with the redneck. Not only did the two have completely different perspectives, but they didn’t even look related. Zane didn’t share the same muscular body as the silver fox, but instead had a little too much meat on his bones. He also didn’t get the Welch height, with Zane’s lime-dyed hair barely even reaching his uncle’s neck.

“And this must be Kaeden Sargent, put it here!”

Zane’s uncle shoved a meaty hand in front of him and Kaeden quickly accepted. He was always more optimistic than Zane, putting his best foot forward into every situation. The tall, lanky man took the other’s hand and shook it vigorously, so much in fact that his ginger curls bounced in a rhythm. Fortunately, the baby fat surrounding his face allowed him to act a little childish.

“Firm, that’ll go a long ways here, son.”

“Thanks, sir.”

“Ah, y’all can call me Treyton.”

Kaeden and Zane exchanged looks at each other. For a Christian cowboy, he was awfully accepting of their relationship. Neither of them expected Zane’s uncle to be so understanding.

“Where’s Aunt Joelene at?” Zane inquired as they hauled their bags inside.

“Her and the lady folk already had a vacation planned, so she ain’t gonna be here this week. Just some good ‘ol male bonding!”

He led them to two guest rooms on opposite sides of a hallway, telling them to toss their individual bags into one or the other. Zane and Kaeden exchanged looks again, although this time it was for a different reason. They both knew they might be staying in different rooms, but not sleeping.

All of a sudden, the doorbell rang from the front of the house. After dropping their things, Zane and Kaedan followed Treyton back out to the front door. The trio wandered out to the foyer to see another cowboy smugly standing on the porch.

“Harry!” Treyton shouted as he swung the door open. “‘Bout time ya got here--the nephew’s in town.”

Harry looked over at Zane, inspecting him and then Kaeden with hawk eyes. His tight black shirt didn’t hide the impressive muscles from years on the farm. The same could be said for his faded jeans and massive belt buckle, both of which did nothing to camouflage his gargantuan pouch.

“Is yers that paddy?” he remarked with a deep voice, his accent as thick as Treyton’s. “Or the fag.”

“They’re both fags,” Treyton corrected. “The paddy’s his ‘boyfriend’.”

Kaeden patted Zane’s shoulder in a comforting way. Treyton’s language had just confirmed that they had signed themselves up for a long vacation.

“I don’t mean to be abandonin’ y’all so quickly, but the town’s rodeo’s goin’ on tonight and I’m a volunteerin’,” Zane’s uncle began. “Everythin’ there is free, so I expect to see y’all out there. It’ll be a great time!”

The two hicks strutted over to Harry’s old pickup truck, the engine roaring mighty proud as it came to life. Zane and Kaedan wondered how they hadn’t heard it coming down the driveway.

“Keys are on the counter!” Treyton hollered as they drove off. Kaeden smirked lowering his hand from Zane’s shoulder to his butt as they watched the other pair leave.

“Might as well taint your uncle’s house before we go to the rodeo.”

“You really want to go to that thing?” Zane whined, missing the hint.

“No, but we should,” Kaeden replied. “Until then, let me keep you entertained.” He then started kissing Zane’s neck passionately, dragging him down a hallway.

“Alright!” Zane giggled, following along. He loved his boyfriend.

— —

Kaeden and Zane hesitantly pulled into the parking lot, the dirt flying into the air as they parked the rusty pickup near the back. The whole event took place in some kind of stadium, but instead of a neatly trimmed field with shiny seats, there were wooden bleachers and a dirt floor. They weren’t particularly excited, going from hardcore sex to this dump, but as long as they were at each other’s sides they’d make it through. At least, that’s what Zane kept telling himself.

The two cautiously jumped out, wearing sweatpants and matching concert tees from an event they went to on their fifth date. Zane had thought that if they wore their most casual clothes, they’d blend into the crowd, but it turned out this was truly his first rodeo. Walking up to the front gate, they saw a rainbow of button-ups scattered among the stretched and stained tees. Hicks and cowboys galore excitedly hollered as they entered the rodeo grounds. The strange thing was, it seemed like people were gathering by color. Zane and Kaeden watched the red button-ups slowly separate from the yellow tees, who themselves avoided the purple plaid-clad group. Even with the odd formation, the pair stuck out like two weeds in a freshly-planted garden.

“Alright next!”

Zane and Kaeden had been so perplexed by the entire situation that they hadn’t noticed they had crossed the parking lot, gotten in line, and made it to the front.

“Zaney boy, ya made it!”

Zane’s uncle proudly stood behind a booth, waving as the boyfriends walked up. Harry was placed on the other side, his look much more calculating than Treyton’s inviting smile.

“Are y’all excited?” Uncle Treyton asked, his accent coming out stronger with each syllable.

“Totally,” Kaeden answered, assuming his other half wouldn’t.

“Let us just stamp y’all and yeu’ll be on in.”

“Wait, why are we the only one’s getting stamped?” Kaedan observed. Zane hadn’t noticed, but all the other attendees had gotten in without a mark.

“Remember how I said y’all are gettin’ in free tonight,” Treyton explained. “This is yer free ticket.”

They nodded their heads as Kaeden extended the back of his hand out to Zane’s uncle. Treyton solidly pressed a stamp down on his hand, the blue color left behind sinking deep into his pale skin like a tattoo. Zane proceeded to do the same for Harry, who marked his hand with a black darker than the night itself.

“What do the colors mean?” Zane questioned.

“Whatever ink we’re usin’.” Harry snarked, sending him on his way. Zane sighed as he strolled through the gate.

“I’ll be at a food stand later tonight so make sure to come and visit me!” Treyton shouted as they disappeared into the crowd.

“We can do this,” Kaeden whispered, grabbing Zane’s hand and dragging him to the stands. He sounded reassuring, but Zane couldn’t tell if it was for him or Kaedan himself.

“It’s just for tonight,” Kaedan continued, “After that, we won’t have to deal with Harry, or anyone for that matter. Except for your uncle of course.”

Zane grinned--his boyfriend always knew how to cheer him up.

“And besides,” Kaeden continued. “Look at how much we have to explore!”

It might have been a bit exaggerated, but there was a some space to venture. Besides the stands, there were a few porta potties, some food stands, and a big tent filled with gear for the local country radio station. The tent was their first destination, looking through all the merchandise and advertisements. Although they both hated country music, they had fun exploring the booth, even signing up for a raffle to a Chase Rice concert. Did they know who he was? No--but they didn’t care. Even though they got a few sideways glances from passing families and couples, they were actually enjoying their time at the rodeo. Zane and Kaeden were there to have fun just like everyone else.

9.8 SECONDS! THAT WAS A GOOD TUSSLE, DAVE!

The pair watched on as the participant was whipped off the horse’s back. The first few rounds had looked painful, but Kaeden and Zane eventually stopped flinching after every contestant. It was the sport after all, so they shouldn’t be worried unless everyone else was worried. The uncomfortable thing was, everyone at the rodeo did seem slightly on edge, but it wasn’t over the participants. Unsurprisingly, it was over them.

“Hey,” Zane said, elbowing his partner to grab his attention. “Is it me or is there something strange about the crowd here?”

“You mean how they’re all looking at us like we’re sick?” Kaeden asked, not tearing his eyes away from the next contestant.

8.7 SECONDS! IMPRESSIVE GRIP FROM HANK!

“Well, yeah, but that’s not what I’m talking about.”

“What’s on your mind?”

“I don’t know, I mean…” Zane stumbled off, noticing Kaeden was still focused on the riders.

9.4 SECONDS! NICE JOB MARV!

“Earth to Kaedan!” Zane snapped, finally snatching the other’s attention. “For example, did we miss out on some color-coded theme? Why is everyone segregated?”

Kaeden glanced around the stands, noticing what his boyfriend was talking about. Although everyone was clumped together, there were noticeable separations. It seemed like groups of men, women, and children were organized by the shading of their clothes. It was peculiar, but so were most small, rural towns.

“Calm down, babe,” Kaeden replied nonchalantly. “It’s probably just some cheerleading thing, you know? Like someone’s family wears orange because their their fanclub.”

“Yeah, I guess that makes sense,” Zane conceded.

10.1 SECONDS! I’D EXPECT NOTHING LESS FROM RYLAN!

“You’re probably just paranoid from all the homophobia around here,” Kaeden reasoned. “But luckily, I know what’ll cheer you up.”

“Oh really,” Zane responded coyly.

“Definitely, meet me at your uncle’s food stand and I’ll get us some snacks.”

“Alright, but I’m gonna head to a restroom first.”

“Miss me!” Kaeden exclaimed as he rushed down the risers. Zane grinned, knowing he was lucky to have snagged his boyfriend.

— —

“Ah! Sorry,” Zane grunted as he shimmied out of the porta potty door, noticing the growing line that had assembled outside. He thought he hadn’t taken too long, but when one’s bowels beg for release, one has to give in. Walking with a little pep in his step, he eagerly bounced his way around the rodeo grounds to find his uncle’s food stand. Kaeden knew Zane had a soft spot for food, which was pretty evident by the soft spots around his hips. He was excited to see what he had gotten for him. After wandering around for a minute, he finally spotted his uncle stepping outside an old trailer.

“Uncle Treyton!” Zane shouted as he approached.

“Eh, Zane! What’s up? Enjoyin’ the rodeo?”

“I guess?” Zane replied honestly. “Have you seen Kaeden?”

“Ah yeah, he was my last customer for the night. I saw him walkin’ over to the picnic area,” Treyton grunted, locking the door to the trailer as he closed up.

“Thanks!” Zane responded, beginning to walk off.

“Hold on there, cowboy!” Treyton demanded, chuckling at his own irony. “I’m gonna be headin’ back to the ranch, gotta long day of work tomorrow, so make sure y’all don’t stay out too late.”

“Sounds good, Uncle Treyton!” Zane started again, desperately wanting to get back to Kaeden.

“AND!” Treyton emphasized. “Harry wanted to see ya ‘bout somethin’ before ya left. He should be at the stables.”

“Great, thanks!” Zane tore off, almost kicking up the dirt behind him as he darted back towards the porta potties. He made it to the picnic area in record time, almost panting as he slowed down. The so-called “picnic area” was really just a group of tables resting behind the bleachers, with no real purpose besides having a surface to eat at. Zane searched for Kaeden, but it seemed like the place was totally empty. The only person he saw was a man sitting alone, ravenously scarfing down an order of nachos. He was wearing a blue plaid button-up and the same straight, overused jeans as every other man at the rodeo. He also adorned a cowboy hat, a quite brawny body, and a bulge much larger than both Kaedan and Zane’s combined. The cowboy looked to be in his late 20’s, but his brunette chin strap and mustache combo made him seem older. Zane approached the other man delicately, noticing the redneck’s very large boots tap eagerly as he chowed on his food.

“Um, excuse me…” Zane mumbled quietly. “I was wondering if-”

“Zane!” the man jumped up from his seat. “I was worryin’ ‘bout you! Thought you might’ve gotten stuck er somethin’.” Zane shook his head, confused at who the low-pitched, southern gent was exactly.

“I’m sorry, who are you?”

“Zane, it’s Clayton!” he paused, waiting for Zane to remember.

“Clayton Sherman?” Zane was still bewildered, until something clicked in his head.

“Wait, Kaedan?”

“No, Clayton. Didja hit yer head or somethin’?”

Zane felt a little crazy, but something supernatural was pulling him towards this stranger. He didn’t know what the force was, but his curiosity guided him.

“One sec, just let me check something.”

Zane grabbed Clayton’s right hand swiftly, finding the same blue stamp that his boyfriend had received earlier. Although it had faded dramatically, it was good enough proof for Zane.

“Kaedan, what happened to you? How did you become like this? What happened after you left the stand?” Zane must have been hallucinating. There was no way his long, slim, ginger lover had become some horse-kickin’, tobacco-spittin’ cowboy, right?

“First off, it’s Clayton,” Clayton responded calmly. “And I did exactly what I said I would. I went to yer uncle’s stand and got us some food. He told me he’d give us ‘somethin’ special’ and slapped my hand, saying it would be on the house. Can you believe it? These darn nachos were free!”

“Alright,” Zane quickly remarked. “Then what?”

“Well, I waited for ya, but the nachos kept lookin’ at me. So, I thought ya wouldn’t mind if I took a bite. One bite became two, then three, and now we’re here.” Clayton showed Zane the empty box, beaming a childish smile.

“Kaedan, I don’t under-”

Suddenly, Zane grabbed his head as he felt a shock go through his skull. He grimaced as it coursed through his brain, causing him to shake momentarily before regaining his thoughts. As fast as the pain had come, it had disappeared too.

“Y’all ok there?” Clayton asked, patting Zane’s shoulder in a brotherly way.

“Yeah, I think so,” Zane blinked. “What were we talking about again?”

“How I ate all the food!” Clayton hollered, laughing at himself in a low guffaw. “We oughta get back to the rodeo though, Little Petey’s going up soon.”

“Little Petey?” Zane mumbled to himself as the two hoisted themselves up. At first, he didn’t recognize the name, but the more he thought about it, the more memories that seemed to appear. Little Petey was Clayton’s little brother of course! Both Clayton and Pete Sherman were expert horse riders, having both broken records for steer wrestling and bull riding. They’d also been the star quarterbacks for the town back in their prime, but now with Pete turning 26 and Clayton having his second kid on the way, they were ready to settle down and start (or continue) their families.

“Yeah! I gotta run on back to Cassie and Trevor. Nice seein’ ya round these parts again!”

Clayton tossed the empty carton into the trash and ran off back to the stands. Zane watched the man dash up the wooden bleachers to his wife and first boy, embracing them as he sat down to continue watching the show. He sunk right back into the cluster of blue, completely camouflaged by the other people in the crowd. Zane didn’t really know Clayton, just remembered him as someone who worked at his uncle’s farm. He seemed nice, but definitely not friend-material. He had a little too much homophobia and country in him. Zane stopped for a moment to correct himself. Clayton didn’t have a little too much; he had a lot of too much.

8.3 SECONDS! LET’S HEAR IT FOR MIKE!

Deciding he had nothing else to do, Zane started heading back towards the parking lot. Although the event seemed kind of interesting, Zane was too lonesome to really find any joy in the situation. Even his uncle’s presence would’ve made him want to stay, but with no one there by his side, Zane decided to head out. Right as he stepped through the gate, he suddenly recalled his uncle saying something about Harry wanting to see him. He didn’t like Harry, and he assumed it worked the other way around too, but Zane knew he should respect his uncle’s wishes.

8.9 SECONDS! DANNY’S HERE TO STAY!

Zane stumbled into the area housing the horse stables, the place completely deserted besides the rolling tumbleweeds. Strolling past a few horse-buses, it didn’t take long to find Harry. He grinned as Zane approached, holding a lasso in one hand.

“‘Bout time you got here, thinkin’ you got lost er somethin’.”

“Wish I would have,” Zane mumbled to himself as Harry tossed an arm around his shoulder. Harry suddenly seemed more cheery than he had been before.

“Did yer uncle tell ya what yer doing here?”

“No, but I hope it’s not too long; I’m getting tired.” To emphasize his point, Zane faked a huge yawn.

“Not that, fag,” Harry chuckled, dropping down one end of the rope. “I mean this vacation.”

“What are you talking about?”

“Back in high school, yer pops, uncle, and I used to be the studs of the town. Valuable players, intimidatin’ cowboys, 100% corn-fed beef. But when yer pops was offered an education out east, the three of us fell apart.”

“Yeah, so what?”Zane was uninterested, finding the cowboy’s bulge as the only thing appealing about Harry. Zane had a bad habit of checking out other men when he was single.

“Well,” Harry continued, dragging Zane into a stable. “When yer pops saw how off-track he had raised ya, he called up Treyton and I to put a little country in ya. We knew we were gonna have fun, but when ya brought along that Irish laddy too, that was just a cherry for the top.”

Zane shook his head in bewilderment. Who was Harry talking about? He had obviously come here alone.

“See, originally Treyton wanted you as part of his ranch, but when yer boyfriend came he decided to pass the sweeter treat off to me. I think yeu’ll really-”

“Woah, slow down a moment,” Zane rubbed his temples, losing track of everything.

“Ah, I fergot about the mental stuff,” Harry contemplated, thinking about how to explain everything. He had to find a way to explain it all to the boy.

“Remember how everyone in the stands was segregated by their clothin’ color?”

“Yeah?” Zane clearly remembered, as he had stuck out like a sore thumb, but he didn’t understand why this was important now.

“Well, they’re all branded to some ranch, that’s why they stick to one color.”

Harry’s answer made sense to him, but Zane was still visibly perplexed.

“Look at Kae- I mean Clayton Sherman,” Harry started. “He works for yer uncle’s ranch. What color to they wear?”

“Blue?”

“Exactly!” Harry slapped Zane’s back, knocking the wind out of the other man.

“Every color here is for someone’s ranch. Blue is Welch, green is Smith, white for Johnson-”

“How... how many are there?” Zane stuttered, the pieces gradually coming together.

“10, ‘cluding myself,” Harry responded proudly.

“So what you’re saying,” Zane reasoned. “Is that these ranch owner’s ‘brand’ people to be part of their ‘ranch,’ claiming them as their property?”

“Eeyup.”

“And why are you telling me this?”

“Thought you oughta know beforehand.”Zane was about to ask what that meant, but before he could speak, something clicked together in his head.

“You own one of these ‘ranches’?”

“The stunnin’ Mueller Ranch.”

“And what color are you?”

Zane already knew the answer, hoping to distract the other man, but he wasn’t fast enough to dodge Harry’s launch. The older cowboy tackled Zane to the ground, the stench of hay and manure infiltrating Zane’s lungs as his face graced the dirt floor. Zane, not one to be athletic, surprisingly twisted himself out of Harry’s grasp, rolling sideways before getting up and escaping. He started running to his truck, desperately shuffling through his pockets to find the keys. Frantically scurrying away, he didn’t even notice his foot slip right out from beneath him.

“Gotcha!”

Harry cackled heartily as he looked upon his captured prey, who was clawing at the rope helplessly. It seemed like a scene from an old western cartoon: the fool stepping into the lasso and getting caught. Harry had already tied the other end of the rope to a stable post, approaching Zane with a face gleaming with malice. Zane trembled in fear, giving up hope on flight and nervously accepting the fight. As Harry took the final steps, Zane's cowered timidly as he gave up. He didn’t know what was going to happen, but he knew something was going to be over. Then, to Zane’s pure surprise, a hand stretched out to help him up.

“Come on,” Harry welcomed warmly.

Zane’s heart stopped. Was Harry… serious? Was this all some prank just to scare him? Zane didn’t know what was going on, but he decided that once he got out of this mess he’d stay in the sweet shelter of his uncle’s ranch. After the week was over, he was never coming back to this pathetic town, or Wyoming for that sake.

“Are ya gonna take it or what?”

Zane sighed, clasping his hand into Harry’s. As soon as they connected, Harry’s flowery smile instantly twisted back into the thorny smirk.

“It’s just too easy.”

Before Zane could react, Harry flipped the other’s hand over and tapped the black stamp. Instantaneously, time stopped around them. The whole moment felt electric, almost as if everything in existence had shifted, but it was simply only a light touch. Zane gasped as he got up, struggling to speak.

“What… what did you do?”

“Eh, nothin’ yeu’ll remember,” Harry chimed. Zane investigated the back of his hand, noticing a slight pulse as the black stamp began to fade. He was shocked to see the color slowly draining from it into his veins, noticing the same inky shade pumping into his bloodstream.

“Oh no,” Zane cried as a small crackling came from his knuckles. It sounded similar to an orchestra of crickets, the hundreds of minuscule pops signifying the growth of his average hands. Zane’s palms grew thicker at a sluggish pace, bloating with meat as his fingers grew into calloused sausages. Zane groaned in pain while his hands became paws, now feeling like he was wearing bulky, leather mittens instead of skin.

The raven color flew through Zane’s arms, gliding across his chest before venturing vertically. To Zane’s dismay, his unused tendons stretched intensely, expanding as they made room for the arriving muscular tissue. Biceps proudly emerged as their brotherly triceps erupted from underneath Zane’s flesh, causing him to writhe. His forearms gained some meat too before a tan wave swept across the surface of his skin. The classic shade darkened Zane’s pale skin as a field of hair was planted on top. Before long, Zane’s arms looked like an avid gym-goer’s, yet for some reason his mind told him they were from the farm.

After improving the upper appendages, the ink moved downwards, cutting through Zane’s chest. His deltoids pushed outwards as his collarbone expanded, barely extending his traps as his torso began to shift into the shape of a “T”. His pectorals ballooned outwards, forming into meaty packages with two perky nipples, obviously erect underneath his shrinking tee. After the pecs squared out, Zane moaned as a sturdy six pack pounded in, each abdominal packing a punch as it pushed forward. A light covering of fur erupted from his chest while the tan wave made sure to paint itself once more. Zane began panting for air violently, each breath sucking in a little body fat. It didn’t remove all of his fat, but enough to maintain something barely below a body-builder’s standards. His shirt also stitched itself back together, having been torn apart seconds before. The cheap concert tee grew black as it painted itself back onto Zane’s torso, the dusky color hiding its overuse.

Following were Zane’s legs, as the black blood dove deeper. His juicy thighs began to tighten, retaining their above-average size, but now containing more muscle than meat. After his quadriceps had hardened, his knees cracked violently, stretching out Zane’s calves to max him out at 6’2. The bottom of his sweatpants violently tore to reveal two meaty forelegs, both veiny, firm, and covered in a lathering of hair. His pale skin darkened as his legs were covered in a loose denim, locking away his lower appendages.

With Zane’s lower body now covered in an old pair of Wranglers, the ink took hold of his feet, which were currently snug in a pair of Sperry’s boat shoes, the only shoes he had brought with him. In an instant, the leather and cloth tore apart in the middle, blossoming open like a flower to reveal gargantuan Size 15 feet. Zane was appalled to see the hairy, meaty, and awfully rank monsters attached below his ankles, but to his luck, the shredded shoes began to reform. The leather gracefully became cowhide as it expertly resowed itself around Zane’s feet, traveling up to his midcalves to create two authentic cowboy boots. Zane however didn’t feel relieved, in fact all he could feel was the sweat of his massive feet filling up the shoes. His socks hadn’t reformed, so it appeared he was going commando in his boots.

The ink swam up to the top, touching up on any missed spots. After filling in Zane’s pits with a hearty amount of hair, the black blood filled in his neck, adding girth to support the maturing Adam’s apple. Vocal chords stretched as the Zane’s register reached new depths, causing him to violently cough and sputter as he adjusted, allowing the ink to shoot upwards. Zane cried out in pain as the black blood clutched his skull, pulling apart at the bones to give him a thicker head. While the baby fat was removed, his jaw was stretched horizontally, giving him a prominent chin just large enough for a cleft. His lips shrunk while his nose expanded, filling in along with his expanding brows. Zane’s eyes shifted from a bland brown to easy-going blue as his hair shaved away, leaving a no-effort buzzcut where a manicured mane once laid. The vibrant green color rapidly faded, giving way to a light brown that easily shaded in Zane’s new haircut and thickening chinstrap. Across his body, his skin tightened barely as his body packed on a few extra years. It wasn’t a noticeable difference, but Zane no longer had the same glow of young adulthood.

“Ah Lordee,” Zane grumbled, getting up as his language center reorganized itself. “What’d y’all do to me?”

“Well, there’s still one more thing to go,” Harry replied, watching Zane shakily ascend. When the other man stood straight, he now faced eye to eye with the other cowboy.

“What in tarnation is left?”

“Just give it a sec-”

“I ain’t got no time for games, I’m gettin’-”

Suddenly, Zane felt an electrifying pulse throughout his groin, the rest of the ink finally reaching his reproductive center. The black blood infiltrated his testicles, killing off the weak sperm as it overtook his pouch. Zane’s balls bloated as they became heavy with cowboy sperm, dropping dramatically due to the increased weight. The ink traveled into his medium-sized penis, engorging it almost instantly. At first, Zane felt like he was having the most powerful boner of his life, but he began to realize his dick was in fact growing. His member began pulsating with the foreign blood, elongating as it grew to a mighty 10 inches. In the back end, his buttocks blew up into two massive, hardened globes, pushing against the confines of one end of the jeans while his pouch took the other.

Losing all sense of reality, Zane furiously palmed himself through his jeans, the feeling of his newly-materialized boxer shorts rubbing against his sensitive tip driving him crazy. Precumming in seconds due to the pent up stress, Zane was too horny to realize what he was doing, or what he was losing. His prized Yale education evaporated like powdered milk into his ballsack. Next went his East Coast upbringing, his progressive ideas and urban lifestyle disappearing into the void that was his semen. In tow was his homosexuality, which was thrown into the fire inside his testicles. Even a sizeable chunk of his IQ was tossed into the mixing pot. Everything about Zane was sucked down into his sperm, ready to be expelled permanently.

“C’mon boy,” Harry shouted eagerly. “Ya know what ya want to do!”

Zane grunted as he groped himself once more, feeling a burst of static electricity coarse across his body. Grabbing a nearby fence, Zane steadied himself against the stable wall as he felt the rush coming.

“Wow-ie!”

A huge load of sperm coated the front of the Wranglers, causing the area beneath the giant belt buckle to darken dramatically. Not bothering to clean himself up, the young cowboy basked in the afterglow of ejaculation, truly content with himself. He adjusted his pouch one last time, with his other hand still secured to the fence.

“There ya go, that felt better, didn’t it?” Harry slapped a hand around the other man, securing the black cowboy hat on top of the other’s head while doing so.

“Ah yeah, Sir, that one was a goodie,” the other replied, the two slowly making their way back to the main grounds.

“Tell me, Wayne, where the wife and kids at? Shouldn’t they be at the rodeo?”

“They are, Sir,” Wayne responded quickly. “They’re sittin’ near the back of the bleachers with the other ranch families.”

“Ah I see.”

10.5 SECONDS! PETE’S WOWED US AGAIN FOLKS!

Harry paused in front of the main gate, shuffling his hand through his pocket to find his keys and some Copenhagen chew.

“I best be headin’ out,” he stated. “We got a long day at the ranch tomorrow, lots of hay bale shipments to move out.”

“Sounds good, Sir.” Wayne extended his hand out, “I’ll see y’all bright and early tomorrow mornin’.”

“See y’all then, Wayne.”

The two vigorously shook hands, with Harry delighted to see the disappearance of a certain black stamp. They waved each other off as Harry walked back to his truck. After watching his boss leave, Wayne was elated to go back to his family, with one beautiful wife and three handsome sons to entertain. Turning 29 in a matter of days (his birthday shared with Pete Sherman’s, or “Little Petey” as the town called him), Wayne had already accomplished his major goal in life, growing the Woods family. It only seemed like yesterday that he and his wife were high school sweethearts, but now they owned their own little home with three rowdy chaps running around everywhere. It was going to be Wayne’s job to teach them the right morals just like how his father taught him. Over the years, he’d teach them about Christianity, voting Red, being country men, and how to swoon ladies. But, with the oldest one only in first grade, he thought it might be best to wait a bit longer.

Inspecting the bleachers, it didn’t take Wayne long to find his family. He ran up to them and sat down immediately, ready to keep enjoying the show. He quickly explained to his wife what his boss had wanted him for, saying Harry had just wanted an update on the coming fourth child. Wayne then kissed his wife passionately before giving his attention back to the rodeo, applauding as the last participant finished off the night.

10.3 SECONDS! CHRIS ENDED THE NIGHT STRONG!

ANOTHER GREAT YEAR WITH A DARN GREAT CROWD! THANKS FOR COMIN’ OUT FOLKS, WE’LL SEE Y’ALL AGAIN NEXT YEAR!

#country #gay to stright #bottomtotop #age progression tf #nerdtojock #jock #Christian #dumber #political #lib to con

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thanatika · 25 days ago

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yeah i agree with your point about survival mechanics and i feel the same way about the lack of combat mechanics. "why would an educated city doctor need a weapon" because shit is hitting the fan in every way impossible and pretty much everyone is walking around armed... also why am i supposed to believe the the fact that he's a man of intellect will somehow provide him with food? i don't think anyone is going to be too eager to share food during an outbreak intellectual or not...

+ follow up for the previous ask but actually my favorite quest from the original pathologic is the day 11 bachelor quest that involves shooting down soldiers. i think it really drives the point home about how this random fuckass guy who is supposed to be battling a plague doesn't even have the time to do that anymore because the people in charge are asking completely irrelevant things of him now and he's at a position where he cannot refuse what is being asked of him. like i think it was good storytelling that even as the guy who lowkey wants to deal with the plague and solve its mystery you still have other, more pressing, less interesting and or pleasant tasks to complete

i agree! honestly, i feel this way about the combat mechanics even more than i do about the physical survival (food, health, illness, sleep) mechanics. because sure, i can see how it makes sense for daniil's position of authority to mean that his basic needs are somewhat provided for -- although i don't think it makes more sense than what we got in the original game. i've never seen anyone bring up "isn't it kind of unrealistic that the bachelor isn't given lots of food during a massive food shortage?" as a plothole that needed to be resolved. the townspeople generally don't like him much, and most of the people with power don't either, except for the kains. sure, maybe it's kind of weird that you can go see the kains while broke and on the verge of keeling over from hunger, and they won't do anything to help you, but... the kains are pretty self-centered, and they're so goddamn weird that maybe they forget that you need to eat food to live anyway. and it's half-implied that the powers that be are ultimately giving daniil this role as a convenient way to kill him, so it makes sense that they would put no pressure on the town authorities to keep him alive.

(and honestly, artemy is taken under the olgimsky's auspices as much as the kains take daniil's under theirs! which is to say, selfishly, with ulterior motives that are more important to them than the well-being of their healer, but... the olgimskys are set up as the wealthiest of the 3 families financially, as well as the ones with the most access to food, given their control over the meat industry. so if anything it's "weirder" that artemy isn't more materially provided for, though to be clear i don't think there's an actual plothole there either way.)

but anyway, you could handwave it and say that daniil's position of privilege and authority gives him more perks than he got in the original game, but the amount of fighting you have to do to get through town is... kind of an unavoidable physical reality? like you're given so many sidequests that you often wind up walking around town after dark, and that's when the bandits come out. is the idea that the bandits would be too scared to attack him because he's so important? because that doesn't make a lot of sense to me, and even pathologic 2 establishes that he's seen as a valuable target by the bandits:

and then there's the quests where combat plays a more direct role in the story itself, like getting involved in saving andrey from the firing squad, or killing guards to break artemy out of prison, or the quest where you have to kill var in attempt to stop the arsonists (which i include on the same tier as the other ones because i really like the quest journal entry he has if you complete it where he blames himself for willow's death. it's a good character moment.)

hell, even in pathologic 2 itself, one of the biggest Bachelor Moments is on day 11, when you have that big dramatic convo with him after he killed a soldier for the papers he was delivering. plus one of bad grief's idle dialogues in patho 2 is commentary on the bachelor being "quick on the draw" and that he "already shot someone". like he just straight up is not living a combat-free existence. and overall, combat isn't just a good tool from a mechanical perspective, heightening the stakes and placing pressure on the player (though it is), it's also pretty important for him on a thematic level imo, almost as important as artemy and his "rivers of blood". in patho classic, daniil has this early interaction with the inquisitor:

which, thinking about it from a doylist perspective, was probably the writers' attempt to make it sound more plausible that this random medical researcher from the big city was competent with multiple types of guns. and i appreciate them coming up with that hint of backstory to cover their bases a bit, but with those bases covered, i think the fact that daniil ultimately spends more time shooting people than he does prescribing medicines for them actually does a lot for him thematically? i mean, if his whole thing is that he's this "tempted destroyer", someone who frames his career as a combative battle with death rather than a quest to save people's lives, whose "default" solution is to raze the town with artillery because he's too limited by his rationalist worldview and military upbringing (and bitterness over being manipulated and sabotaged) to come up with a solution that saves the any remaining infected survivors on his own. plus the way that clara frames artemy and daniil as two sides of the same coin in being violent destroyers and killers, who without player intervention will immediately devolve to running around chasing each other down in what's either an insanely dedicated tom and jerry LARP or some really elaborate foreplay. imo, that whole dichotomy (which is pretty core to the game, as the idea of dichotomies are core to it in general) works so much better with the way they're both presented in classic, stalking around with gun/scalpel in hand. hell, not to mention the effect that spending 12 in-game days trying not to starve and getting killed by bandits or guards or worms or soldiers every day would have on the player, and the way it would make them feel about the town and their natural projection of those feelings onto dankovsky, who is a perfectly fitting vessel for them as the avatar actually undergoing those virtual experiences.

ultimately i think they are mainly going this direction out of a desire to do something more creative and original, which is fine... it just seems a bit silly to me that they keep saying "well obviously that doesn't really work for the bachelor's scenario", when, well... even as recently as patho 2 in 2019, they seemed to think it fit his narrative pretty well! i'm also guessing that a lack of combat won't be that bandits are just no longer roaming the streets at night. it sounds more like pathologic 3 is set to be more of a nonlinear experience, where you'll probably fast travel from place to place instead of having to walk across town so much? so you'll be avoiding bandits just in the sense that the gameplay will be avoiding them. i guess i'm hoping that at the very least, there's still the implication of the crunch of not getting enough sleep or food and the threat of being stabbed to death while trying to get through town occurring to dankovsky in the background, even if those mechanics are deemphasized in favor of more macro-level town resource management, time control, and sherlock holmes fruit ninja or whatever the hell they were on about back in 2022 lmao.

#pathologic #pathologic 3 #i probably sound insane talking about pathologic 3 i'm like pleaaaaase let there still be violence in it 🥺#and tbf i dont think thats going to be a major lacking area; they're stringing up 12 year olds like party streamers in the fucking trailer!#but even before the trailer came out i was like i think its important that he still has to kill some people honestly...#my other wishlist thing is that i hope there's still moments where he gets btfo'd and it fades to black.#like the moment with the guards in the cemetery when you try to desecrate a grave or with the termitary on day 8 #or with the soldiers on day 11 if you try to talk to them about andrey instead of reading a walkthrough and killing them in advance LOL #there's like 1 similar moment in artemy's route (when he gets put in jail) but i think its funny how much more often that happens to daniil #bro keeps getting his ass beat. and i hope it continues #on an upside i guess if they really are removing all combat it might bring a wider audience who hadnt played until now?#like i play plenty of combat-heavy games but a lot of times i get bored of it and a game having none of it is a selling point to me #like when i first heard about disco elysium it was marketed as this really cool game that had no combat and that's half of why i picked up #and tbh technically that wasn't true about disco but yeah...#also thanks for the ask!!!!#patho meta #patho #mine #asks

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utilitycaster · 22 days ago

Text

anyway this is obviously a wild shift in the topic of conversation, but I was talking about it in the group chat last night as a distraction and would like to continue the distraction if I am being honest, so, with the caveat that this is based off of Fandom Osmosis Observations and a few reads of reviews and I have at this time played neither of these games, some thoughts about BG3 vs. Veilguard and what I've seen. many thanks to @captainofthetidesbreath for actually knowing things about video games and answering my many questions.

also just putting this up front with all said caveats: if you disagree that is great, I am very open that this is an outside observation and I could be very wrong but I am going to block people who get hostile without warning, and make this nonrebloggable if too many people get hostile. You are always permitted to disagree but like, I don't really care about your opinion if you're not someone with whom I have a pre-existing rapport unless idk you're like, actually a BG3 or Veilguard official story writer who happens to be on Tumblr. If you're a player? You have all of your own biases and they are not mine. Save it for someone who wants to get in a fight about this; I am not that person.

Essentially, what I've seen in terms of criticism from Veilguard that isn't just rampant transphobia comes down to the following:

why am I not playing my previous character from Inquisition again

why am I limited to a fairly consistent through line for the story

But first, I'm going to talk about BG3. What's funny is I seem like a much more obvious candidate for playing BG3, as a longtime D&D player who has come around on Forgotten Realms as a setting. However, while I looked at it for a while, I eventually lost interest for a couple of reasons. One is that apparently all the characters are WAY too eager to romance you which is like, a fun fantasy for 10 minutes but would probably annoy me in the long run. Another is that everyone who watched early reviews and kept abreast with the game told me that there was a clear favorite companion (Astarion) and that many of the characters had most of their interesting flaws sanded down (eg: Wyll was apparently much cockier originally; Shadowheart even more petulant; and as these are perhaps the two characters I was most intrigued by, reducing them to something blander destroyed much of the appeal). But perhaps the most interesting one is that as a boring goodie two shoes sort of person, my thought back when I was like "yeah, perhaps I will play this" was "oh, I do not want to have a murderous urge within me."

It became very apparent, through watching people play through and post on my dash, that if you didn't specifically play as the Dark Urge, and didn't specifically resist that urge, the story didn't really cohere. I have to admit, I know the premise of BG3 very well (tadpoles), and I know a lot of shipping trends (put a pin in that), and I know some of the more obvious points within it (Astarion is a vampire, Gale and Karlach both have bombs in their chests somehow, Shadowheart bleaches her hair) but I don't really have a great sense of the ending, and I did not avoid spoilers.

It feels like BG3 is designed for people who have one of those massive spreadsheets of D&D characters they haven't had a chance to play that are meticulously kept and thoroughly realized...and don't really leave room for modifying to fit the campaign you will actually be playing in. It feels like an OC sandbox simulator unless you do actually pick the choice the writers actually wrote for (Durge), and while it's not technically playersexual...it kinda is. I mean, I am a big fan of the trend in video games towards making it possible to romance anyone because it conjures up the idea of a world of high-powered bisexuals running around, which is very enjoyable for me, but the criticism of the Mary Sue archetype originally was never "how dare you fantasize about being cool." It was "wow, the characterizations are all warped beyond recognition solely so that everyone is in love with this character, and that makes for a dull and unsatisfying story." If you're everyone's type, and it's for romance and not just sheer lust, then either everyone around you is boring and wants the same thing, or you are sort of bland and inoffensive, or else the story is bashing characters together without a good basis for a compelling romance. This is also compounded by the fact that the companions can't get together with each other if you're playing your own character and not an Origins character.

None of this is to say it's bad to like BG3 and again, I didn't play it; but it is why I ultimately said "you know, given the effort involved to play it for me, a person without a gaming system, it's not worth it."

Veilguard has specifically intrigued me for going against a lot of this. You have a lot of choices in your character build, but they're all fairly thematically consistent: you did something within your faction that was well-intentioned but upset higher-ups and so you need to step away for a while. This establishes a personality for you! We know why you're part of a faction but also something of a free agent at the moment. We know why you're here and why you might be a good candidate for the current mission.

I'm not going to go into detail for the choices because while I'm not avoiding spoilers I don't want to spoil a relatively new game for others, but a lot of choices are fairly parallel, not in an "illusion of choice" way - they have consequences - but in terms of hitting similar themes. You can only save one city and both are places you have seen and places your companions have connections to; while the exact details may differ you are telling a consistent story.

I also think the fact that the companions can romance each other in your absence is important too! They exist even when you're not there. They are not just here to woo you, and indeed, they might be a better match for each other. I've been informed this is true in Inquisition as well, and I think it's a much more rich world if you, as the player, as the person who can ultimately decide the fates of your companions, aren't the center of their personal life. I also think it prevents the ability to sand down companions to be more agreeable to you as a player if you have to make an NPC/NPC romance compelling (and I will freely admit that, in a move that is not at all like me, I was pretty well sold by a potential in-game NPC/NPC romance, which is usually not the thing that gets me into works of fiction).

I'm not the right person to speak to the Inquisitor not being a significant character because I did not play DA:I, and I get that 'well, this is a new game with a new protagonist, as there has been for every Dragon Age game' is still not necessarily an adequate explanation. Nor is "hey, maybe it's good to attract new players" even though as someone who is highly attracted as a new player that is my opinion. However, I want to go back to the point about Resist Durge being the strongest option in BG3 in terms of story by a long shot. When I was trying to learn more, I said "ok, so just like how you're Tav in BG3 and Rook in Veilguard, you're Lavellan in Inquisition, right?" and was told that you are not - that's just the elvish Inquisitor option. Obviously this is anecdotal, but the fact that one option was far and away the most popular and thematically resonant is an indication that perhaps bringing forth the Inquisitor is carrying over some of the limitations of that game, whatever they may be. The true argument is "they are trying to tell a specific story here, and it is about a different POV than the one you previously had."

And that's really my point. I know I'm not an expert here - in fact I'm usually quite hesitant to write meta about things in which I'm not highly steeped, and very critical of those people who do - but I think an outsider perspective is useful here. The thing that is drawing me to video games is a new way to experience a fictional narrative (the other game I have been meaning to play - and even own on Steam- is Disco Elysium). That's not what everyone wants! But it is what I want. And so I want to be put into a developed, thoughtful narrative, and I don't mind if my choices are restricted in order to support it, and if I am playing a person I did not entirely choose. In tech, there is a saying of "make it easy to make the right choice (and hard to make the wrong one)" and so if you need your protagonist to hit certain beats, you should make that the required protagonist.

I think a story is stronger if your choices matter but if there is something of a foregone conclusion because it gives the writers thematic throughlines. This might sound a little silly given that this blog is largely dedicated to Actual Play but the thing is, most actual play does have, if not a foregone conclusion, at least a strongly intended conclusion of "work towards uncovering this mystery and achieving this goal", though the success of said goal is not guaranteed. I would argue that when a campaign lacks that, it tends to suffer in all aspects. RPG video games almost always have a foregone conclusion, but that's its own liability. In actual play, lacking a forgone conclusion means you spin off in any direction and it's anyone's guess if it's coherent. In an RPG, having this conclusion but not supporting it through the rest of the game will make it feel contrived. I feel a lot of Veilguard criticism is focusing on small contrivances early on that really mostly matter to a highly specific subset of potential players that prevent much larger and less forgiveable contrivances later on.

Anyway. Again, I am an outsider here, and I'm not here to say that it's bad to have a more open-world, sandboxy game with a self-insert-y OC type; but I have to be honest, I'd rather explore that in a true sandbox of fanfiction or original fiction, which is significantly cheaper and in which I can actually tell the entire story I want to tell. I don't want to be given more choices if a lot of them will be profoundly unsatisfying as a narrative. I don't want to cut through the world like a hot knife through butter. I want to be affected by it, and that's very hard to do with a character whose only trait is "self-insert whom everyone wants to fuck" or "guy that already carries the baggage of years of personal headcanons and highly variable choices that are hard to account for for every single person who ever played the previous game."

#long post #i'm not tagging this for the games obviously in the hopes of preventing the people i mentioned in paragraph 2 #but for now; you can reblog.

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slyandelusive · 1 year ago

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Roommate fate.

Summary: you find happiness in the form of your mothers intern. Tigris Snow x Whatnot!reader (Fabricia Whatnot’s daughter).

Fic note: I made Fabricia Whatnot act nicer towards Tigris in this than how she does in the actual book, also according to the thg wiki the currency in Panem in “panars” so that’s what I used when talking briefly about money in this. Speaking of money reader is completely unaware of the Snow’s financial situation but it’s hinted that Fabricia knows.

A/N: Posting this then legging it lmao💀🏃‍♀️ I had so much fun writing this but in the same breath it’s been years since I tried my hand at writing fics so yeah, I’m not claiming to be Shakespeare here haha. I have proof read this but sometimes mistakes slip through and if that happens here rest assured I’ll realise at some point, be consumed by embarrassment and then fix it. Hope you like this even if it’s just a little bit, mwah! <3

Also the bottom lace divider was made by @plutism :)

It was hot and humid and you could hear her breathing.

It’s three months to the day since your mothers intern, Tigris Snow, had moved into your family home. Your mother had told you about the plan for Tigris to move in as casually as ever while at dinner, you can still remember how the hot tomato soup felt stuck in your throat as you began to cough in surprise. You had no idea why your mother would offer such a thing to a Snow, your family was far from poor but with your mother gaining her riches after the dark days you were classed as new money, why would a Snow want anything to do with that?

Your mother said it was nothing to worry about, that it was to do with some stylist guidance thing but the last thing you wanted was for her to accidentally offend a Snow.

You didn’t know what to think when it came to Tigris but she turned out to be kind, kinder than you ever expected. You hadn’t known her too personally before she moved in, only ever seeing her trailing after your mother or sat at a desk in your mothers studio completely engrossed in whatever was in front of her, you were convinced you could tap dance around her when she was in that state and she wouldn’t even turn her head. The night your mother told you about this arrangement you went to bed thinking about every time you’d heard someone describing the Snows as uptight and cold, you’d recounted every story, every rumour in your head before you made yourself snap out of it, your final thought about Tigris before she moved in was that if anything, you had to at least give the girl a chance.

The first month with Tigris was coated with a sense of giddiness, each time either of you saw the other it was like you were first years at school again, eager to make friends, eager to be comfortable and eager to know everything about the other.

You were out when Tigris first arrived but your mother was there to greet her and told her to make herself at home. Tigris got as settled as she could in a room that wasn’t originally hers, when she entered she was met with two seemingly untouched beds, she poked around enough to find that the oak chest of drawers had two left empty for her and the wardrobe also had room made for her. She stood in the middle of the room slowly turning trying to get a feel for it, her eyes fell upon two desks, one covered in books, notes and pens and the other touched only by a lollipop and a fashion magazine, Tigris smiled hard as she picked up the sweet and flicked through the magazine, she’d like it quite nicely here.

Unbeknownst to Tigris she had set up camp in the bed that was already yours. You returned home in the afternoon and as you walked into your bedroom ready to greet your new roommate you tried not to falter too much as you saw her sat on your bed painting her nails, you decided to go with it not wanting to make her uncomfortable or embarrassed in a situation that was probably harder for her.

As you walked into your room that night ready to go to bed you were ever so slightly taken aback seeing Tigris asleep in the bed that was bought for her, as you walked up to your bed you found a not laying on your pillow,

“You should’ve said this bed was yours and I would’ve switched sooner! Thank you for not being mad about it.”

The note was written in pink ink and she’d drawn a smiley face and a little butterfly at the end of it. You’d find out the next morning your mother had mentioned in passing how you loved staring out of that window watching whatever the world was offering, she said she couldn’t believe you’d given it up and that was when Tigris realised it probably wasn’t intentional.

Her note had left your mind till a few days later when you found that it had fallen down by the side of your bed, you picked it up and slipped it in a small trinket box not realising Tigris was watching you and not seeing the grin that graced her lips when she saw that your were keeping it.

After creating a foundation of stability the pair of you spent the second month exchanging every silly secret you’d ever kept. If you were getting paid every time one of you whispered “hey, you still awake?” across the bedroom you’d be accused of stealing from the Cranes, Tigris and you would stay up till stupid hours in the morning, till you had to relight the candles, talking about anything and everything, you both had the matching eye bags to prove it.

You liked talking to Tigris, she spoke like how you’d imagine a swan would if they could talk, her voice was soft and elegant, she spoke so gently yet still with so much conviction it made your head feel fuzzy. She’d give you her full attention when you were talking too, sometimes she’d look at you so intensely it’d make you forget what you were talking about completely.

All of that lead you to now, the third month came and plagued your mind with thoughts of why is it so hard to figure out if a girl likes girls and why does straight up asking a girl if she does paint your intentions out so obviously. It’s currently June making nighttime the sticky type of hot where you feel like you have to peel the sheets off of you if you even dare to use them, you’d spent around an hour tossing and turning before admitting you weren’t getting sleep any time soon, you decided on going to get something to eat, you know just incase tiredness could come in form of snacks.

You tiptoed out of your bedroom, careful not to wake the lucky Tigris who appeared to be sleeping and began to make your way down to the kitchen, now stood at the counter pooling jam onto your plate and trying to figure out which cheese you wanted before allowing yourself to think deeper. Far too much was at stake here, if Tigris didn’t feel the same and was uncomfortable about it not only would you lose a friend but she might want to stay away from you completely meaning your mother would lose her intern. You sighed and once more let your thoughts be consumed by sweeter things as you started slicing a peach.

Your eyes were focused solely on your plate as you made your back up the stairs and into your room, opening the door slowly trying to minimise both the creaking noises and the chance of you dropping your plate. Once inside you made a beeline to your bed not caring to look anywhere else, you sat with your head resting against the wall as you stared out your window, looking to see which neighbours still had their lights on, at the skipping ropes left on the curb by kids and the slightly drunk man that had tripped over them.

You were mindlessly reaching for a peach slice, eyes still on the window making your movements look somewhat robotic when a voice startled you.

“You not gonna share?” Spoken out of nowhere your head banged off the wall slightly before you snapped it to the other side.

“Jesus Christ Tigris!” You exclaimed in a rushed whisper, a scream kept stuck in your throat.

“What? Surely your mother told you sharing is caring and how to properly treat a guest.” Tigris stated casually with a small grin adorning her face.

“You’re not funny Tig.” Shaking your head as you spoke but holding no true offence in your voice.

Tigris let out a stifled laugh and threw her head back. “Actually I’m very funny, I’m a very funny person that wants in on your picnic.” Grinning again as she manoeuvred her way down the bed closer to you.

You rolled your eyes but shuffled down your bed too, holding the plate out and letting her take her pick. Tigris pulled away with the apple you’d already bitten, a slice of buttered bread and a sugared shortbread biscuit, you swatted at her hand as she stuck two fingers in the pile of jam you made and laughed.

You fell back into your regular routine of talking, well whispering, about whatever came to mind. Had you heard about the new drama with the Plinth prize? That a bakery had started charging nine panars for just one pastry? Or what about that man that’d dyed his hair for different colours had you seen him!? You told her about the drunk man you saw earlier and your night carried on with mindless questions.

“Hey I heard Festus Creed asked you on a date and you turned him down what’s all that about?” The line of questioning took you off guard even though it was spoken like every one of Tigris’ previous questions.

You stuttered slightly before fidgeting with the ends of your blanket in front of you and answering. “Oh uhm nothing really he’s just not my type.”

“What too young?” Tigris’ tone was still casual but slightly teasing, looking you directly in the eye.

“Yeah that and I’m not all that into guys.” You pushed the sentence out of your mouth fast enough before your mind convinced you not to, that decision was made on a mix of lack of sleep and not wanting to lie to her.

“Oh.” Her voice was somehow softer and she gulped slightly before replying. Tigris’ face was painted with confusion like she was expecting you to say anything but that.

“Oh?” Your voice held a sense of urgency, you licked your bottom lip to stop yourself from biting at it.

“No no no that’s like really uhm cool.” Tigris sat up as fast as she was speaking, head nodding in tow.

You let out a small snicker before speaking “It’s cool?” Your eyebrows were scrunched and your mouth had turned up into a grin.

“Super cool.” Tigris spoke like she was a high biology professor stating a proven fact.

Your hushed laughter filled the room you nodded in a agreement “Super cool.”

“Exactly.” Tigris voiced, you’d never seen her smile like this before.

Silence fell over the pair of you once again, Tigris lay back down and your attention returned to you plate, you both took turns trying to sneak glances at each other and then try to hold back your laughter when one of you would catch the other.

You were almost done with smothering the last bit of jam onto your last piece of bread when Tigris spoke up again.

“So, is there a girl you have your eye on?” Tigris spoke slowly, testing the waters.

The question caught you off guard, not wanting to look like a fool but also not wanting to misinterpret what Tigris was talking about.

“Uh well I’ve heard Vipsania Sickle’s older sister is recently single.” You gulped slightly before speaking and returned your attention back to your jam after stopping.

“You’d go out with a Sickle girl!” Tigris somewhat exclaimed, voice still held to a whisper but her shock was evident. The lengths the pair of you would go to to not wake up your mother!

“Yeah why not, I heard her family has their own box at the theatre and I’ve always loved the ballet.” You nodded your head to left, motioning toward your desk that held a stack of old tickets.

Tigris was left to think and the silence resumed, you finished your last bit of bread and situated yourself back laying down in your bed, ready to give sleep another go. Around twenty minutes passed before the last interruption of the night came.

“Hey y/n.” Tigris spoke softly

“Yeah Tig.” You whispered back

“If things don’t take off with that Sickle girl, I’d love to take you out some time.” Tigris spoke again before you could reply. “You know cause we’re both super cool girls that like super cool girls.”

You laughed in response at first, a laugh that felt like summer, more like a happy giggle.

“Yeah I’d like that a lot Tig.” You thanked your lucky stars that there was enough street light gleaming into your room so you could see the way Tigris smiled and laughed too.

“You just run your plans past Sickle and I’ll be here waiting.” Tigris proclaimed with the teasing tone back in her voice, nodding her head and pointing her finger at you, you both knew you’d never speak to Vipsania’s sister for anything romantic again.

#thank you for reading <333 #and they were roommates #the ballad of songbirds and snakes #tigris snow #tigris snow x reader #tigris snow imagine #tbosas fic #tbosas fanfiction #tbosas x reader

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ts1m1kas · 5 months ago

Text

Original Ask: goofy guy who loves life (aka our sweet baby boy kostas) showing a girl he likes his hometown and neighborhood, while she is on vacation and sparks fly 😏 (@findingnemosworld )

Word Count: 725 words

(author's note: nemo requests, i deliver 😉)

Ever since she was little, Y/N had always wanted to go to Greece. The culture, landscape, and food enticed her, strengthening her desperation to go to the country. So naturally, when she grew up and could go, the tickets were booked, and she was on her way.

Landing on the runway in Greece was an unforgettable moment for Y/N. All her memories about her childhood and the plans she had made flooded her mind, reminding her of how grateful she was to be there.

She collected her luggage from the airport and headed to her taxi outside. Sliding into the backseat, Y/N stared wistfully out of the window. She was finally here.

However, when she got to her hotel, dropped off her bags, and left again to explore the small city she was staying in, she realised she had no idea what to do or where to go. As she looked around helplessly, she failed to notice the man walking towards her.

“Excuse me, can I help you, I couldn’t help but notice that you look a little lost?”

“Oh- Hi, yeah I am a little lost. I just landed an hour ago and I’m not really sure what to do.” Y/N laughed awkwardly as she stared at the man in front of her.

He had longish brown hair that faded to blonde at the ends and was tied into a small messy bun. His arms were covered with tattoos, and his gold earrings glinted in the sunlight.

“How about I show you around? I’m Konstantinos but everyone calls me Kostas.”

“Really? You’d do that for me? I’m Y/N.”

Kostas smiled, “Pretty name for a pretty girl. And of course, I’ll show you around, it’s no trouble.”

“Do you always flirt with girls you’ve just met?”

“Nope, you’re the first,” Kostas said, winking at her.

Y/N laughed, and the pair set off down the street. They went into shops, walked along the beach, and finally, Kostas showed Y/N the way to the best food truck in town. He ordered them something to eat, and they found an empty bench to sit at.

“So,” Kostas began, “What brings you to Greece?”

“Well, I’ve always wanted to come, ever since I was a little girl. Everything about this place just has a certain charm. It’s a bonus that the men here are cute too,” Y/N laughed, staring at Kostas knowingly.

“It’s nice to know that people still appreciate my country, I obviously love it as I grew up here. But it’s refreshing to see others enjoying our culture.”

“Of course! I know I’ve only been here for a day, but I already know I chose the right place to visit. It also helps that I had an incredible tour guide.”

“Well, I can do you one better, how about you let me take you on a date tomorrow? I can show you some more of my favourite places?”

Y/N blushed bright red, “You want to go on a date with me?”

Kostas looked puzzled, “Yes?”

“I mean I’d love to. It’s just, what if it goes well? I have to leave at some point, and I might not be able to afford to come back-”

“You don’t have to worry about that because I don’t live here either.”

“What?”

“Yeah, I work in the UK. I’m a footballer.”

“Are you lying? Is this just you trying to convince me to go on a date with you?”

“No, I promise, look it up!” Kostas insisted.

“I believe you,” Y/N thought for a second, “Okay, I’ll go on a date with you.”

Kostas’ face broke out into a huge grin, “Perfect. I’ll meet you outside your hotel tomorrow at 6?”

Y/N nodded.

The pair cleared away their rubbish and stood up. Kostas walked Y/N back to her hotel and then stopped outside the entrance.

“Thank you for making my first day here so memorable, I appreciate it.”

“No thank you, I’m always eager to show off my home country. I’ll see you tomorrow, yeah?”

“Yeah, Goodnight Kostas.”

“Goodnight Y/N.”

The pair parted ways, and Y/N headed back into her hotel, a small smile on her face. She knew she was going to love it in Greece, she just didn’t know she’d love it this much.

#football #fanfiction #fanfic #hot footballers #request #kostas tsimikas x reader #kostas tsimikas #kostas tsimikas blurb #kostas tsimikas imagine #by ts1m1kas

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galexibrain · 7 months ago

Text

Something that bugs me a little is the insistence that Gohan actively hates to fight period. Bc that's not true!

(This ignores everything that happened outside the original manga/the DBZ anime)

Yes, he lacks Goku's or Vegeta's laser-focus on all things martial arts, but let's be real, all half Saiyans do. Goten & Trunks sure have more passion for fighting than Gohan does but they're much more "human" about it than their dads and have other interests in their lives too.

But while Gohan originally became a fighter out of necessity and had little choice in the matter there are instances when he clearly shows that he is totally capable of enjoying himself in a fight.

For once there's obviously his fight against Cell - once he snapped his "Saiyan side" took the lead and he was enjoying himself a little too much (and ruined it, like a good Saiyan must).

But it also becomes clear in the early Buu arc. Yeah, initially he's not rly interested in the tournament and wouldn't have participated if not for Videl forcing him.

But once he was in he was in. He even got a little annoyed by Videl interrupting his training, and he did want to win. If he really hated it so much he could have entered with the plan of failing the preliminaries, or losing in the first round. But the thought never crossed his mind. I think if you'd suggested he botches it deliberately to get out of it he'd been horrified.

He was going to have fun with it! I think his most "Saiyan" trait is that he's a bit of a showman lol. He likes to be flashy! And he likes to boast! He COULD have just used a plain costume and mask to hide hid identity but nope, Great Saiyaman it is! He likes being seen and being known as a crazy strong superhero. Maybe he'd have been into pro-wrestling with their fancy costumes and showmanship

Even before things went off the rails at the tournament and Buu arc was set in motion he was ready to go. And yes his crush on Videl might have served as motivation: "haha cool she won't be disappointed if someone beats her dad! (I can date her if I beat her dad)" -> he WOULD have thrown Satan out of the ring if he'd gotten to fight him, no questions asked.

And once he, Goku & Vegeta are in Babidi's spaceship it gets even clearer: now, no one is forcing him to fight. Ofc Gohan always wanted to fight when it was necessary, even at 5yo he wouldn't stay home, he made it very clear that he was going to Namek.

But while they were going through the levels in Babidi's ship this still wasn't a serious thing. Pui Pui and Yakon were a joke for them. Vegeta was getting pissed, ok, but aside from that it was just fun and games for them, and Gohan could easily have said "nah have at it you two, I'm sitting this one out" but never once did he so much as consider NOT taking part in rock-paper-scissoring it out to decide who gets to go first.

He was eager to fight Dabra! Dabra told them to take him on 3:1 and Gohan flat out told him "no way, this is MY fight!". And if Vegeta had interfered with that fight to end it quicker I'm 100% sure Gohan would have decked him in the face and told him to fuck off. (Maybe that would have cooled Geets' mood a little lol.)

The problem isn't that Gohan hates fighting from the bottom of his heart. He doesn't. The problem is he grew up with a dad who was 100% a fighter and a mum who was 100% into education, and he didn't find a balance. He didn't even know that might be an option! He thought he'd HAVE to choose one thing, and one alone, and so he chose education.

Who could have taught him otherwise? Maaaaybe Piccolo (post-reunification with Kami), but tbh I think he didn't want to give Gohan the feeling he had to fight. I think Piccolo feels a little bad for putting 4-5yo Gohan through the wringer so much.

Like idk. Let my boy be both. Let him have Goku's legacy as well as make his own!

(I've read about Dragon Ball Online a little and tbh Gohan writing a book on ki and making it widely known? Perfect. I love it. Best idea ever. Probably the best thing that happened to DB since the original manga and Z anime ended. I am accepting this as canon 100%.)

#dragon ball #dbz #dragon ball z #gohan #son gohan

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hurricane105 · 1 month ago

Note

💖🖊️🧠

For the fanfic asks

💖 What do you like most about your own writing?

I write really good dialogue. Snarky, sweet, formal, funny - one of my favorite things to read is well written dialogue, so it's really satisfying to write it well too.

🖊 Post a snippet from a current WIP.

This is several chapters out, in Two Different Worlds (TP Zelink marriage of convenience). Waffles is Link and Zelda's cat.

Link goes to his room and brings out a paper-wrapped box the size of Waffles. He knows this because he found Waffles sitting on it the other day. Zelda apparently notices the size too, because she raises one eyebrow at him.

He loves her eyebrows. Is that weird?

Yeah, it's probably weird.

He holds the box out to her and smiles. "Happy birthday."

Zelda takes the box, setting it on the kitchen counter. He probably should have waited until she was in the living room to give it to her. But it's too late for him to worry much, because Zelda's already undoing the ribbon around the box with careful fingers.

She unwraps the paper in the same methodical way, careful not to tear or crease it, and Link wonders if she always unwraps presents like this. He's impatient for her to open the box and see her reaction.

Zelda finally lifts the lid off the box and reaches inside, lifting out rough, dark blue fabric. She shakes it out, holding it arm's length. Waffles sniffs the hem, as if critiquing Link's gift.

"This dress is pretty, Link, thank you." Her polite smile is fixed in place, but one eyebrow is slightly raised. She's confused.

"I know it's not like your other dresses, but that's on purpose," he hastily explains. "It's a disguise."

"Oh?"

He has her full attention now. "Tonight we'll go out for your birthday, but just as regular people, with Shad and Ashei. We'll all wear disguises, and eat from food carts, and go to a bar or two, and nobody will know you're queen. You won't have to worry about what everyone else thinks."

She doesn't say anything, and Link's worried he overstepped. "Uh, if you want to, that is. I hope the dress fits, Ashei had to guess on the size. We figured it would be less suspicious if she got all our disguises. And, we don't have to go tonight if another night works better. Or at all, if you don't want to." He shuffles his feet. "Not everything has to be political."

Zelda hugs the dress to herself, looking at him with as unguarded an expression as he's ever seen. Her voice trembles. "It sounds so nice. I'm so happy, I could hug you."

"I take hugs." Does he sound too eager? He probably does, but Zelda either doesn't notice or doesn't care. Still holding the dress in one hand, she throws her arms around him.

Of course he reciprocates, he's not a monster.

🧠 What’s an idea you have that you can’t quite call a WIP yet?

I'm planning a TP modern au featuring handyman Link, historian Zelda, and a sentient Snowpeak. It'll probably be crack-ish the way Link Goes Undercover is, but I haven't decided how the sentient manor will work. Maybe it'll try to ship Link and Zelda (hides all the beds so there's only one bed?). Honestly it's probably next in the lineup after Two Different Worlds is done, but I don't have anything written for it yet, just a few vague notes.

Thanks for the ask!

Original post here

#ask game #two different worlds

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sugoi-and-spice · 6 months ago

Note

I want to hear your director cut on your beach episode (aka the company Pool party)

Ooooh glad you specified since there are technically two beach episodes in this series (so far lmao).

I assume you're talking about Chapter 8: Sink or Float

And what a fun choice!

First little Director's Note, I 100% came up with this chapter concept and wrote it all, forgetting how weather works. And that maybe a waterpark luncheon in NOVEMBER actually was kind of a stupid concept.

This didn't bump me when I was first writing it, because I'm born and raised in Southern California - Amusement Parks and outdoor pools don't close seasonally here. Technically I think the bigger water parks like Hurricane Harbor and Raging Waters close in October through December, but a lot of the smaller local ones stay open year round. And the outdoor pools certainly do too.

(I actually only found out that Amusement Parks close seasonally at all when I tried to go to Coney Island in November about two years ago... Whoops lol)

Shit's a lot colder in Tokyo in the fall though - trust me, I've experienced it.

So I flirted very heavily with the idea of scrapping the episode, which was really devastating since I had a lot of fun with the scenario, and I think the episode has some of the finest Shigaraki/MC banter in the fic.

But then I remembered that there are a lot of indoor amusement parks, and specifically waterparks in Japan, so it worked out!

(You have Ouran High School Host Club to thank for that reminder, lol)

Next Director's note! Back when Play Nice was only going to be about a 10 to 15 chapter fic, this chapter was actually earlier in the lineup - it was originally Chapter 6. I actually wrote it before the current Chapter 7: Getting Steamy, and the current Chapter 6: Struck a Nerve was originally slotted to take place after the water park episode.

Buuuut, when I was reading it all together (Chapter 1 to Chapter 6).... ehh, it just didn't feel right. It felt like this playful banter and more friendly, teasing dynamic between the two of them was happening just a little too quick. So I swapped chapter orders, and speed-wrote Getting Steamy in about 3 days so that I could still make my upload schedule (lol, remember when I had a biweekly upload schedule?)

Truthfully, re-reading the series now, I wonder if the shift in their dynamic still happens a little too fast. If I were to do this fic all over again, I'd probably add a couple more chapters between Sink or Float and Chapter 10: Tomurau, extend the exploitation dynamic for longer, and add a few more of the relationship-shifting moments between the two. Buuuut, I also was really freaking excited for Tomurau (which is still one of my favorite chapters), and I also had so much fun writing a friendly/teasing dynamic between the two in Sink or Float, I think I was eager to do more of that, so I get why I made the decision that I did at the time. Oh well! You live and you learn!

Another director's note about this chapter - I changed the ending of it about three different times lol.

There definitely was originally a locker room sex scene, and then in another version, the episode ended with MC storming out on Shigaraki, rather than him storming out on her, but ultimately, I decided that this final version was the best way to keep up the theme of vulnerability that I was building in this chapter, as well as to develop sympathy from MC throughout, that would serve as a better turning point in their relationship, rather than a brief moment of understanding that is ruined by Shigaraki's horniness. When I had that version written, it just felt like it set them back too much in their relationship, realistically. It also would've doubled the chapter length (like that matters now though, hello my new standard of 30 page chapters 😅)

So yeah! Those are my big Director's Notes on Chapter 8: Sink or Float!

This was a lot of fun to write and reflect on, considering this Chapter came out, gosh, coming up on two years ago now. (WTF?!)

So yeah, if this was interesting to y'all, feel free to send me other chapters or fics that you'd like to hear some commentary on! Original prompt is here!

#spice chats #play nice fic #tomura shigaraki #shigaraki tomura #tomura shigaraki x reader #directors cut

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tarisilmarwen · 1 year ago

Text

Rebels Rewatch: "Flight Of The Defender"

We go for a fly and a ride, and the ancient guardians of Lothal awaken.

Live reaction version.

KITTIES! :DDDDDD

We're revisiting allll the familiar locations this season aren't we?

The bright bouncy tones of the opening cue and this particular area of Lothal still looking relatively pristine and untouched are bit of a mood whiplash from last episode. (But then of course the Empire can't have mining crawlers getting too close to its landing strips, the smoke would interfere with pilots' visuals.)

It's vaguely implied that Ezra connects with these Loth-cats, possibly even calls them? They're immediately eager to help when the Rebels need a distraction and it's definitely possible they read Ezra's intentions and were like, "HELP FRIEND."

"The Empire has been fortifying their anti-aircraft defenses." Ha ha yeah you run afoul of those later don't you?

"And there are some new fuel tanks near the factory." *SOBS ENDLESSLY*

Also:

This contrast is immediately horrible. "Zero Hour" was three weeks from the start of this season. "In The Name Of The Rebellion" a couple days out from their victory at Mandalore. It's not clear how much time elapsed between then and "The Occupation" but it can't have been too long, Ezra was already agitated about Lothal after parting with Saw and his words still seem fresh on his mind in "The Occupation". (And as a side comment, I love how deeply connected to Lothal Ezra is, that he could sense the danger Ryder's group was in across that distance.)

This complete burnishing of the grasslands happened within a few weeks to a couple months.

I noted in my original liveblog that Ezra uses "Phoenix 6" randomly here, instead of the usual "Spectre 6", that Hera also calls him. I'm still confused about if that was a mistake or not or if they use the callsigns interchangeably.

I cannot emphasize enough how well they portray the TIE Defender Elite here. It is so fast, so maneuverable, they manage to make it move like a fighter jet. It never looks clunky or unwieldy, just sleek and quick and able to turn seamlessly on a dime.

And predictably my ship will be spending a lot of quality time together this episode, as Ezra immediately assigns himself to come with Sabine onto the dangerous Imperial-filled airstrip. <3

Yeah no I think Ezra definitely connected with the Loth-cats prior to this and they decided they liked him enough to volunteer. He didn't specifically call them or influence them but I like the idea that he's just... open enough in the Force to them right now, so connected to Lothal itself, that they became his allies anyway.

Possibly it was this general openness that called the Loth-wolf to him too.

Anyway, let this be a lesson to never antagonize the cats. Or any of the local wildlife for that matter.

Snippets of the Imperial March as the shuttle sets down, and then a couple blaring notes recalling "Thrawn's Web". Something interesting musically I've touched upon in my commentary but I'm reminded of again hearing this: Thrawn is nearly always musically represented in the score with organs. The organ is an instrument we basically never hear in the Rebels score until Thrawn enters the picture, so any time you hear the hint of an organ note, you can immediately recognize Thrawn's presence.

Aaaaaand there's "Thrawn's Web" playing out more fully.

There's an interesting chime here that plays when the wolf first catches Ezra's eye, it's overlaid by strings and synths and the little vertigo effect the camera uses on Ezra and the way the music abruptly cuts out when Ezra's discovered almost makes it seem like the wolf drew him into some kind of brief trance.

My son just rolls with it, decides to absolutely embrace the chaos he's capable of generating, love it.

"Well Ezra, you certainly got their attention." "I'M GLAD THIS IS WORKING FOR YOU!" I laugh every time I swear, lololol.

I remarked on it before but this is a lovely use of the environment. I love when action setpieces do that. This whole sequence is just such a lovely demonstration of Ezra's skill and competence. <3

And the little shit has the audacity to casually "Hey!" Thrawn, I love him so much.

Ooof with how Ezra ordered Zeb and Ryder to leave with the info and how he told Sabine to get out I think he may have possibly been planning some kind of Jedi self-sacrifice? In which case ow my heart.

This bit here where Thrawn stands unflinchingly in front of the oncoming TIE Defender is a visual reference to a shot from the movie Patton I'm pretty sure. Fitting, as it's German general Erwin Rommel, who clashed with the titular General Patton in the WWII theater, that was one of the inspirations behind Thrawn.

Aaaaaand there's Thrawn sacrificing pilots to prove a point again. Ngl, he's one of the better Imperial commanders to work under but you still get a raw deal if you're too low-ranking, the man will throw you like a meat shield at his enemy to test their mettle and be completely unconcerned when you die.

Ezra: *tells Sabine to hang on*

Sabine: *literally clings to the back of his chair*

Also, do note the sonic boom. The Defender Elite is supersonic.

Oh, this shot where the Defender just threads the gap between two stone pillars? *chef's kiss*

Even Ezra looks a little stunned by how maneuverable the thing is.

Think I noted it before but Sabine sounds really stressed about the kill switch. 'course she experienced it firsthand.

Their banter this episode is amazing I love it.

Hera looks really worried here. Given that her two youngest Spectres were (essentially) kidnapped and taken off into the unknown by Saw just recently maybe it's warranted.

Yeah uh, y'all were never going to make it far enough away from the crash site lugging that thing. Hiding it was a way better plan.

Subtle animation appreciation moment: The mist drifting over the ground here.

Sabine not seeing the Loth-cat we can maybe chalk up to her just not seeing it, because unlike the wolf the cat is definitely an animal that normies can see. (Ryder in "Legacy", for example.)

Another semi-random musical score note: Snare drums are used primarily for the Empire, probably owing to their usage in militaries and marching bands. Hear a snare drum in the score? Audio shorthand for the Empire.

"Ezra and Sabine have each other. They'll find their way home." Kanan says, to comfort a worrying Hera, and I awwww.

Ezra continually getting distracted by the Loth-wolf reminds me of how his attention kept drifting with the purrgil.

Sabine's barely able to help him keep focused lol.

Of course Sabine remembers the wolves from the artwork of them, ha ha.

YEAH NO THAT'S NOT A SIGHT I'D BE COMPLETELY COMFORTABLE WITH EITHER.

The Loth-wolves as a concept are pretty basic but also not quite fully explained. We know they're guardians over Lothal and strongly connected to the Force, motivated to protect it from the Empire in general and Palpatine's machinations with the WBW in particular. But the show also kind of just lets them... do things and doesn't explain them.

Like I'm still not entirely clear on why this wolf had to knock Sabine out with a sleep suggestion. Is it that they're not quite ready to reveal themselves to the mortals yet?

Despite doing so literally the next day?

IDK whatever the motivation it did provide me with these lovely bits:

The fearful warble in his voice when he asks, "What did you do to her?!" How he reaches for his lightsaber and doesn't let go of it until the cat appears and the wolf clearly shows it's aligned with it through the little ear wiggles.

How even though the wolf has tentatively gained his trust he's still all *anxious noises* about it handling her. (Watch how many times he looks back and forth from the wolf to Sabine.)

And they way he is so gentle and careful with Sabine, handling her so tenderly this whole ride.

There's something kind of Miyezakian about this cue in the score, it sounds reminiscent of the theme from Princess Mononoke. (Which I'm pretty sure must have imprinted on Filoni as a wee mini young'un to inspire his lifelong wolf obsession.)

*side eyes the writers*

*whispers* If no supposed to ship... *gestures inarticulately*

Kanan believes Ezra about the wolf though, even if he gets all weird and cryptic about it. Frankly I think the "All paths are coming together now." line maaaaay have just been inserted in this scene for trailer purposes lol. It does seem a little out of place.

Another solid entry. The animation is beautiful, the fur on the Loth-wolf is a vast technical improvement from the wookies all the way back in the pilot, with several individual tufts and segments operating independently to move more naturally around the animal's body. The design is basic, just a normal wolf shape with the tooka chicken feet and scaley foreheads, but solid.

Thrawn remains unflappably intimidating. Pryce continues to prove the more hotheaded of the two, which will come back to bite her hard this season.

Aaaaaaaand of course Ezra and Sabine have the most adorable interactions this episode. From the sharply-written banter to their genuine concern for each other, to Ezra's absolutely tender cradling her for the duration of the midnight wolf ride. I was spoiled and I enjoyed it, sue me.

I do maybe wish we could have had a bit more explanation behind the Loth-wolves instead of having them be mysterious for the sake mystery but that's about it.

#star wars #star wars rebels #ezra bridger #grand admiral thrawn #sabezra #rebels rewatch #liveblog

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annaphoenix1994 · 1 day ago

Text

When the World Fades

Previous Chapter - Masterlist - Next Chapter

»»-------¤-------««

I sat in the kitchen area at the end of the hallway, sitting alone as I recalled the last several hours, Valeria's words seeping into my mind like a bad infection. "You tell me. You're the contractor, no?"

That question replayed in my mind like a broken record, and I possibly was overthinking the question, but I knew better than to brush it off due to my gut instinct telling me to look into it more. Why did Valeria call him a contractor? Because contractors plan and execute ideas. Why would she call him a contractor if she didn't know something?

Immediately, I pulled out my phone to check for new notifications, a sigh of relief leaving me when I got an email notification from Kate, stating that she was now okay and was able to confirm that the guidance systems for the missiles were originally in Spain and were now on the missiles. I had my confirmation with something to branch off of for more research.

I took another drag from my vape pen, exhaling through my nose before I stood to my feet, making my way towards my room before locking myself inside. I was so fucking tired now that my adrenaline was wearing off, a faint soreness invading my limbs after I sat down at the small desk, opening my laptop and notepad to begin my research, the small piece of paper I had written on during Hassan's interrogation pressed beneath a paperclip on the first page of my notebook.

I was going to do more research, remembering how Kate mentioned why she was tasking me on this in the first place.

Starting off, I did a background check on both Graves and Shepherd, seeing that there wasn't anything to use for potential evidence.

That was, until I started digging a little deeper...

0511. That was the number on the missile Soap told me about when his team found the first missile in Al Mazrah.

"What was your intention on sending missiles to my land?" I remembered Hassan asking Graves the night of his interrogation, the same question written on my scrap piece of paper.

I began to start my research with the number on the missile, finding that I was able to track it by seeing its history of being assembled in Alabama at the MFC (Lockhead Martin Missiles and Fire Control), which is where most American missiles are manufactured, seeing that it was then transported to Arlington, Virginia, coincidentally along with two other missiles out of Texas, which is also where Graves called home. After that, I was able to track a shipment from Virginia all the way to Urzikstan without the proper stops and checkpoints required for transporting missiles overseas. This was off the books.

A Black Bag Operation.

Conducted by Commander Graves and approved by General Shepherd.

Oh, I've got you now, motherfucker.

I quickly dialed Kate's phone from my burner phone, a smart move considering anything could be tracked nowadays. "Kate, how are you?"

She sighed, "Better than how I was. What've you got for me?"

"I started with the number on the missile Sergeant MacTavish found with the team in Al Mazrah. I traced it back from Alabama where it was made and sent to Virginia before it was transported out overseas. Never once made a mandatory stop at checkpoints."

"Any names?"

"Yeah. Conducted by Graves and approved by Shepherd."

"I'm going to do some digging. I'm due back to the Pentagon tomorrow morning."

"Okay. We also found and interrogated a sicaria posing as El Sin Nombre. I'm going to link up with Graves and see what he was able to find out all while gathering intel on my own."

"Okay, Kiera. Report back to me with what you can find out."

"I will. Stay safe out there."

"Always. You too."

I locked my laptop and put it away along with my notebook before deciding to take a shower, eager to rid my skin of the thin sheen of sweat that consumed the top layer of my skin.

Relieved and relaxed, I left my hair down over my shoulders after I had changed into a new set of attire that were designed to keep me cooler in the Mexican climate, strapping a thigh holster against me just in case.

Until we gathered additional intel, the Task Force, me, and Mexican Special Forces were on rest for the remainder of the day. Most took advantage by taking longer showers, having fun on utility vehicles to explore the desert, or engaging in P.T. As for me, I found myself on top of a hill that was mainly used for a lookout, but I found myself enjoying the isolation and take advantage by listening to my favorite playlist, cracking open a can of Dr. Pepper, and taking a few drags from my vape pen as I gazed over the landscape Mexico had to offer. The live version of Kate McCannon by Colter Wall played lowly from my phone's playlist, drowning out the silence that surrounded me.

The strong chords and low voice reminded me of Wyoming, and I wished I was home – far better than where I currently was.

"Interesting music taste." A voice startled me, nearly making me jump out of my skin. Ghost – standing there as if I had taken his lookout spot.

"It's real music if that's what you're asking." I smirked.

"You say so," He shrugged. "Never heard it."

"Not surprised. Didn't think music like this would exist in the U.K. You're missing out," I teased. "You look like you're here to take a post. I'll get out of your way—"

"No need. I usually come up here to do the same thing you're doing," He cut me off. "Care for some company?"

"You didn't seem the type to like company."

"It usually doesn't bother me. Unless it's Soap, then I like being alone." He shook his head, taking a seat close by before removing his balaclava from his head, running his fingers through his hair with a deep sigh.

This man was beautiful, and I wondered why he chose to conceal his identity. He had deep brown eyes with dark blonde hair and light stubble with a build that I couldn't help but get butterflies over. He was a prime example of a military man, and my stomach twisted into a knot when I realized that his sleeve concealed an arm full of tattoos on his left arm.

I couldn't help but take another hit from my vape pen when I watched him roll up the sleeves of his ACU jacket, desperate to rid my mind of realization that this man was insanely attractive, and I knew I would have no chance.

"How'd he acquire a callsign like that?" I asked him.

"I really don't know. To be honest, I'm afraid to ask."

I chuckled, "why's that?"

"You know what they say about don't drop the soap. He strikes me as the one who has, and it just stuck."

"Great, now I can't look at him another way even if he does eventually tell me why he chose Soap as his callsign." I shook my head, taking another drag before I offered it to him. "Want a hit?"

He shook his head, "I'm alright. I don't smoke unless I'm anxious."

"If you're anxious, it must be serious, because I've been anxious ever since I've been here." I giggled.

"You'd be surprised," He huffed. "Can I ask you something?"

"Sure."

"What you said about Graves a couple days ago. Why'd you say it?" He asked, his tone of blunt curiosity, which surprised me. I haven't known this man long, but I did know that he was a reserved, observant type, and if something intrigued him enough to ask a question that he knew he probably shouldn't, he was genuinely curious.

"I'm afraid it's classified information, Lieutenant."

"Okay."

We caught each other's gaze, looking into the other's eyes for a few seconds, seeing that he was genuinely wondering what I was doing here if I wasn't a part of the Task Force or Special Forces. He knew I had worked alongside his Captain before, yet we had never met prior to our assignment. He knew I worked closely with Kate, and he seemed to be trying to put together the pieces as to who I was. Not for intel, but his own curiosity, perhaps interest. I felt like I could trust him, but I've learned a long time ago to not trust anyone fully, especially a man, and that was of no fault of his own, but it's unfortunate that a few bad encounters I've had with men aside from enemy forces had ruined that for me.

"I'm here for the same reason you are, following orders."

"Fair enough."

A moment of silence fell between us, and I was oblivious to how much I relaxed while in his presence. He was mysterious and intimidating, yet I felt the safest when around him. I felt the world seem to fade around me when I was with him, and I knew that I was thinking too far and giddy from the excitement of having an attraction to someone.

I couldn't help but hum along to the next song that played from my playlist, Zach Bryan's song Dawns featuring Maggie Rogers. "It just dawned on me, life is as fleeting as the passin' dawn..." I thought that my humming was low enough to keep him from hearing the words I was singing along to, but I guess I wasn't as oblivious as I thought.

"I take it you like to sing, yeah?" He asked.

I couldn't help but smile. It was a genuine smile that appeared very briefly throughout my life – a smile that was innocent and vulnerable when all I was used to was being dominant and intimidating. "I do, but I'm not a professional or anything. Just a talent that I occupy my time with."

"Any favorites?"

"Any song I like is a favorite," I chuckled. "I mumble just about anything."

"You've got to have a favorite that you can't help but sing every time you hear it, no matter where you are."

"Eh, you'll think it's silly."

"Try me."

"You know that movie with Bradley Cooper and Lady Gaga?"

"Who? I don't really watch a lot of movies, love. Don't have the time."

"Do you even know who they are?"

"No."

"Well, they're in a movie together called A Star is Born. There's a song in that movie called Always Remember Us This Way, and I've loved it ever since I heard it. It's one of my favorite movies."

"I'm assuming it's a love story type of movie?" He guessed.

"Yeah, not surprising, huh?" I laughed. "I've always loved that song, but it was catchy with no meaning behind it for me. Never had a reason to sing it and actually enjoy it."

"Why?"

I never expected to hear him ask that question when I figured he'd just drop it and not pry, so I was caught off guard and surprised that he wanted to know.

"Stupid reason. Had a man who I thought loved me, but I wasn't good enough, I guess. I caught him cheating on me, and when I confronted him about it, he got defensive and tried to gaslight me into making me think I was crazy."

"You shouldn't let that affect what you love to do."

"Easier said than done, Lieutenant—"

"Simon." He corrected, his tone sounding of regret after correcting me. I saw how tense he was, letting down a wall of his own because he wanted me to know. I showed him a smile of vulnerability, something that I rarely ever did because of my own trauma and past experiences as I didn't want to give him a chance to take advantage of me, yet he gave me his name when it was obvious he went by Ghost for a reason.

He was being vulnerable with me, even if it was just an ounce of it.

"Simon." I repeated, a faint smile spreading on my face.

"Simon Riley." He choked out. Another ounce of vulnerability. I finally knew this man's name, sharing the same information that possibly very few people knew.

"Kiera Dutton."

"Strong name." He complimented, unaware that I was able to realize that he forced out the compliment as it was something new and rare for him, obvious that it wasn't common for him to express a compliment to anyone besides saying "good work" or "nice shot."

"Thank you. You need a strong name for living in Wyoming," I giggled, easing the tension before looking down at my watch. "Well, I gotta get back to the base. I asked Alejandro to sit down with me for a briefing before turning in for the night." As I went to get up, a rock that had shifted under my foot caused me to lose my balance, and Simon didn't hesitate to reach his arm out and prevent me from falling on my back, but he was a second too late. I laughed as I embraced my embarrassment, accepting his offer of helping me to my feet to keep me from falling again.

"Clumsy today, yeah?" He teased me, keeping a firm grip on my bicep until I was stable on my own two feet.

"I sat for too long, and my leg is still hurting from that terrifying cliff jump, ya know. My leg fell asleep and did me dirty."

"That wasn't even a far fall."

"I beg to differ!" I scoffed. "That was a first-class ticket straight to hell if I had to name it!"

"You must've not jumped out of planes before, then."

"Believe it or not, I have. I felt safer because I had a parachute, but when we jumped off of that cliff? I had to rely on positivity and luck not to hit a jagged rock."

"Fair enough."

"Here," I said, handing him my iPod I kept as a spare just in case I broke my phone. "Listen to all of my good music that you're missing out on. You won't regret it." I giggled.

"I might."

"You never know. Might find a song you like."

»»-------¤-------««

For the rest of the day, Kiera and I haven't seen each other since we split off from the lookout post. I got a good look at her face in the golden hour of a Mexican sunset, and she didn't fail to make my breath hitch. She was so bloody gorgeous, and only having the interaction from earlier and not being close to her since we separated, it was a bloody tease.

I had gone off to bed early, taking the advantage of a day off to get much-needed sleep, but my body was against me as I suffered through usual insomnia. Kiera's iPod was sitting next to me on my cot, yet I hadn't even listened to any of her music that she suggested. In fact, I didn't even touch it because I didn't want to drain her battery, but perhaps she had a song on her music list that could possibly help me fall asleep. I never had a particular taste in music, listening to a random song on the radio while I was back home in Manchester.

Deciding to give this iPod a try, I held it above my head, pressing the button and seeing that her background wallpaper was a family photo – all on horseback with a rugged mountain backdrop behind them. She must have a perfect life.

I knew I shouldn't have tapped on her photo album, not wanting to invade her privacy, but I figured it was harmless curiosity as well as keeping my embarrassment of having to ask her more questions about her personal life. I figured that I could get to know her better this way. I was horrible with communication and self-esteem, and I knew that trait was what ruined my former relationships, my most recent being a lass named Sarah. We had been broken up for a couple of years now, but we were both toxic for each other. It started off as a mutual no-strings-attached type of relationship and had a few night stands before I started developing feelings for her. The first couple of months were perfect until I had to go off for a deployment. She didn't like that, but I didn't care. She knew from day one about my work but couldn't handle the fact that I would be gone. She ended up getting more than "clingy." It was borderline stalker behavior – always around my flat, asking my friends where I was and when I'd be coming home, and even reaching out to my own Captain and asking him to release me.

It was bloody ridiculous, and I wasn't having it anymore.

By the time I eventually came back, she was suffocating to be around. I tried to make it work – tried to understand her behavior, but it wasn't working. She didn't understand that I needed my space after coming home to decompress from the violence and carnage I participated in. It got to a point where I would take longer showers just to have time to myself because she wouldn't leave me alone.

I tried not to fault her for it or consider her crazy, because she wasn't. She was just insecure – too insecure with herself to not leave me alone in fear of losing me.

It was a mistake, and I never should've pursued a relationship when I knew that there was a possibility that it wouldn't work or that she would lose me.

And now here I was, wishing that something could end up working between me and Kiera because I had a strong interest in her. I didn't intend on a one-night stand with her or a no-strings-attached sort of relationship. I could see myself with her, and that was a ridiculous thought considering I haven't known her for more than a week, and perhaps I was so lonely and lovesick that I saw an opportunity with every woman I came across.

I ended up tapping on the photo album, seeing many various photos of her personal life that I had no business looking into, seeing photos of different horses, dogs, her and her parents, food, and landscapes – no personal photos (or selfies as younger people call it) or anything inappropriate. She was classy and full of life outside of the military, and I grew attracted to her even more.

Especially when I didn't see any evidence of a relationship waiting for her back home.

I had no problem attracting women, but impressing one that I really had an interest in was a severe skill I lacked.

My favorite photo of her was a portrait of her with a palomino horse, her eyes sparkling with happiness and peace with her long hair blowing with a breeze. I wished I could print it off and keep it to just look at when I was wanting to look at her, but I guess looking at it was enough.

After I had looked through every photo, I eventually tapped on her music app, seeing various playlists with a lot of songs within them. There was a playlist titled 'Daily', which contained the obvious, I guess. Another was titled 'outlaw country', and the last was titled 'foreign.'

I curiously went through every one, seeing a lot of songs from a band named Rammstein. I had heard their music before, but I barely understood German, so I never listened to them on my own free will. One of my comrades listened to Rammstein and Eisbrecher while doing P.T. when we were in Austria for a mission years ago.

I'd be lying if I said Bestrafe mich wasn't a good song.

I didn't know what it meant, and it could've been about worshipping Satan for all I knew, but I liked the sound of the song.

Her 'daily' playlist consisted of various different genres and different artists like Bon Jovi, George Straight, Alice Cooper, Nickelback, Johnny Cash, and Slipknot. I didn't find any song that I was curious about listening to, so I found my way to the 'outlaw country' playlist, and I was happy with my decision when I found one of the songs she had been listening to while we were sitting at the lookout post.

Within that playlist was a lad named Colter Wall, and he had some pretty good music he put out, The Devil Wears a Suit and Tie being my favorite one so far.

I wasn't even aware that I was falling asleep, until my eyes shot open at the sound of muffled singing coming from Kiera's room. My cot was right against the wall, and coincidentally, the wall was the only thing separating us from laying alongside each other. She wasn't trying to sing loud – just something to occupy her mind. If I had to guess, she wasn't realizing how good her voice sounded even if she was singing at a low tone.

"That Arizona sky; burnin' in your eyes; you look at me and babe, I wanna catch on fire; it's buried in my soul; like California gold; you found the light in me that I couldn't find..."

I felt bad for curling my finger against the wall, delivering a soft knock to the drywall before I heard her immediately stop, likely out of embarrassment, but I wanted her to keep going.

Dammit, Riley, if you would've just stayed quiet, she would've sung for you! Bloody idiot!

It was when she knocked back that I knew she wasn't embarrassed, but she still didn't continue singing when she knew I'd be listening.

Instead, I knocked back.

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