#which is a massive shame and i hope op is able to get it back up eventually. there were a LOT of resources on there

[lokh]

dude. starting to wish id gone with the teach yourself series for language learning vs the hugo in 3 months series

[yamithediaperdork]

Maze Baby (Maze runner)

Thomas woke up and not for the first time, nor he doubted for the last time, he was in a shitty diaper. he half wondered if the smell of his diaper had awoken him or if it the was the dawning sun, but since he had no control either way he banished the thoughts from his head the bulky garment wasn't like the disposable diapers of old, this one had a massive expansion gimmick and so it already held the waste of yesterday and the wetting and was down to his knees as he sired about in his makeshift crib that the second in command demanded he lay in. By 'crib' it was sharpen stick's stuck in the ground, five of them on the left and right and 4 on the top and bottom and he was given a thread bare blanket and a moldy pillow to rest his head on. he was watched over by the cruel second in command, a boy named newt who even now was stirring and holding his nose. "Jesus, did you shit yourself even more in your sleep? and I thought you smelled bad before.. such is MY burden to bear." the blond said, as if he hadn't jumped at the chance to look after someone even weaker then himself. Thomas felt the urge to defend himself but the pacifier gag in his mouth made it impossible, and he just whined in the make shift crib. "I suppose we'll have to use one of your rare diapers to change you..I doubt this SHIT BAG will hold much more will it?" Newt asked and reached over the sticks, and massaged the bulky and mushy mess in the back of the diaper. Despite himself, Thomas spread his legs as newt massaged the mess, and felt his permanently locked up dick throb in his diapers. "God, your soooo disgusting aren't you, getting off on this?" Newt asked, though his own breath was going fast and he massaged fasted and harder. "Is this the day you finally cream yourself, or just gonna keep only wetting and shitting yourself like the fucking LOSER you are?" the blond asked. Thomas was of two mind sets to be honest on the question. GOD did he wanna finally blow his load after three months of together from newt, and god knows how much from down below? But on the other hand it was the sexual need, the verge of..that made all of his torment bearable. Newt squished and patted the mess a little while longer, and just when Thomas oped/dreaded he was about to release the blond took his hand away. "I suppose it's time to change the stinky baby." he sneered.

Changing the stupid big baby was the least favorable part of his job, but with the good came the bad. Newt knew that to be a rule even as he washed the diaper shitter down but Jesus, the smell! Lord knows he'd tried any and all food they had on him, but somehow no matter what went in Thomas, it came out smelling like rotten fruit left for 300 years. he knew, to be fair there was no way what came out of the brunette bitches backside was never going to smell good, but shit, did he have to go so far on the other end? with the bitch cleaned up and a painful injection to his balls that meant Thomas wouldn't be able to orgasm until a equal or more painful shock to his balls were delivered, Newt got him in his new big diaper of the day. Truthfully he could of changed him way more often, there was a surplus of diapers in storage, but letting Thomas think he had to wear his shit swelled diapers for as long as possible just made newt feel warm all inside. with the baby thickly diapered and in just a bib, Newt lead him out to a gathering of the other boys who while they kept their distance (Thomas stench was know to happen fast and hard) they laughed and called out taunted that made the brunette tear up even as Newt prepared his baby food. Picking two favors he KNEW the big baby hated, Newt made a cabbage and bean spout meal that would last Thomas the day, while making him gassy all the time. truthfully, this meant having to smell the babies gas all day and the shitty diapers that happened, but compared to the shame that would soon follow, as if Thomas's face while being spoon fed wasn't enough..this was a small price to pay.

Thomas swallowed the disgusting paste, knowing it was his only food of the day but he knew it meant he'd be a gassy boy shortly. Case in point even as he finished his meal he was burping loudly and letting out farts. Newt, ever the stern daddy (which with him locked up had him questioning if he hated or loved it) held his nose and complained about it as he lead Thomas over to how he earned his place. he was useless with his diapers in any other way, then being the bitch who cleaned everyone else's clothes. "Jesus, you are fucking ROTTEN today." newt complained, and took one of the clothes pins and put it on his nose. gesturing to the pile of landry that technically was newts to clean, Newt smirked. "well, the fuck are you waiting for, a written invitation? maybe if your good I won't pour wet sand down the back of your diapers today..but you better EARN that!" he said and laid out on the grass, relaxing. Thomas nodded and got to work. it took a conurbation of using a bunch of plants the boys had named soap weeds and hard work with the wooden tub they had given him to get the work done, plus standing there in JUST his diapers and hanging up all of their clothes. before he was even a third of the way done he had wet himself at least three times and with his mouth free, was clicking his touge a lot.

"awww is somebody thirsty?" newt asked, he'd been watching Thomas wash the clothes and smirked the whole time. Thomas whined and nodded. "WellI suppose I should let you have a drink." newt said, rolling his eyes as if ALL the worlds problem's was on him. Instead he knelt down, watching Thomas's eyes as he filled the baby bottle he had, with water from the wash bin. Thomas whimpered and his eye pleaded no, but instead newt filled the bottle and put the top on it. the water was super soapy and Thomas clearly didn't want to drink it, which only made newt harder as he handed him the ba-ba. "Drink up." the blond said. Thomas took the bottle but looked at it and looked back up to newt, shaking his head no. "Little man, you drink that or I'm gonna go and get one of the dust beaters and tan your ass with it, do you understand?" Newt asked, frowning and crossing his arms. "But..but.." Thomas mewed. "I've giving you to the count of five." Newt said, reaching and grabbing the beater that Thomas used on the sheets and blankets. "One..two.." Newt started. Thomas whined but put the fat nipple of the ba-ba in his mouth and started to drink, his eyes shut tight as the yucky taste. "Good boy! drink up and enjoy your ba-ba and MAYBE daddy will think about letting you have a good boy reward." Newt said. the brunettes eyes opened, and he gave a hopeful look. a good boy reward was getting to cum, and it had been MONTHS since his last good boy reward, Newt kept finding minor things to put it off. Of course Thomas could of humped his diapers and creamed on his own, but somehow newt always found out, and the punishments weren't worth the 10 seconds of pleasure. Holding the bottle with both hands, Thomas drank fast, looking like a greedy baby when all he was trying to do was get it over with. tears ran down his cheeks and he gagged more then a few times but he got the bottle drained then pulled it out of his mouth and let out a massive belch, which adorably made a bubble! "pfffttt.. wow didn't think that was even possible!" Newt chuckled and took the ba-ba. "but since you clearly loved it sooo much." he said and unscrewed the top, then filed it back up. "Here's anther." Thomas whimpered and started crying, but took the ba-ba like a good boy, chugging it as daddy newt patted his head.

The tummy cramps that followed from all the soapy water in his tum tum wasn't helped by the paste that had him blasting out poot and whining lots as he finished his work load for the day. Newt had at one point gotten some of the other boys to come and watch as Thomas let out a few more bubble burps. "I wonder if we took his diaper down if he'd FART bubbles?" one boy with red shaggy haired named Issac asked with a laugh. Thomas whined at that thought, picturing it in his head and shaking his head no. "oh man, I'd love to see that!" a dirty blond with a mushroom cut named Jacob hooted. Pouting big time Thomas was ready to tell them that wasn't happening when Newt spoke up. "Look guys, we'd all love to see the little soap sucking loser poot bubbles.but do you REALLY wanna risk him shitting everywhere?" He pointed out. That took the wind out of their sails, and as if to prove Newt's point it was right then that Thomas hunched over the wash tub and cried out as he unleashed a torment of wet sloppy farts. "Fire in the hole!" Newt called out laughing. most of the boys moved back so they could watch, but only get a slight hit of the stench as the back of Thomas's thick diaper started to balloon out and darken. the pain of the cramp and the force of how hard it was coming out had Thomas sink down to his knees, away from the tub and giving his audience a better view as he pounded a fist on the ground and was loudly grunting and pushing in a effort to get it over with. As his diaper sagged down almost to the back of his kneecaps the mess FINALLY stopped and shaking and sweating, Thomas looked over his shoulder as Newt and the other boys clapped. "Nice show. the visual effects and the performance was great, but gonna have to take points away for the smell. all in all, 4 stars." Newt laughed. "C-change?" Thomas mewed weakly. He could almost SEE the stink he was giving off but he was too weak to hold his own nose. "I'll change you before bed tonight, if you're good." Newt said, then laughed as him and the rest of the boys walked off, leaving Thomas to whimper and out down sobbing.

If there was one bonus to the horrible mess Thomas had made in his diapers (and he kept adding to it!) it was that the smell had gotten so strong with the additions and the sun beating down on him that it kept most of the other boys away. Even Newt was keeping his distance and normally he could at least tolerate the worse Thomas had to offer. He'd gotten his cleaning done and was just playing in the grass, pretending that some of the flowers he'd pick were different soldiers and the like, as most little boys have vivid imaginations. It was about mid afternoon when Newt came over to him. "I've got good news and bad news for you diaper dumper. what do you wanna hear first?" Newt asked, crossing his arms and having a clothespin on his noise and taking shallow breaths. "..Good news." Thomas said after thinking about it for a second. "Everyone agrees, your just too smelly to keep in that diaper any longer, so you'll be getting a diaper change, then burying your 'treasure' in a deep hole." Newt said. Thomas's eyes lit up, he hadn't of really expected even with how smelly he was that newt would of relented! Of course there was the fact that it was a group choice thing but STILL! "Thank you thank you thank you!" Thomas mewed and started to crawl over to hug Newt. His diaper had gotten to big and heavy for him to even stand up at this point. Newt stood back and then held up his hand. "Hannnng on poop factory. there's still the bad news." He said and wagged a finger. Thomas paused and then sat back on his squishy diaper. "I was actually gonna let you cum buckets tonight for suffering though that shitty diaper all day. WAS. But since your getting a diapie change guess who just lost his god boy reward?" Newt asked, finishing with a sing song voice. "But..but..I wanna make stickies!" Thomas started to whimper and whine. "I-I'll wait for my diapie change and prove I ca-" he added but was cut off. "Not your choice pamper packer. now come on, let's go get the little stinky pants changed into clean diapers so he can enjoy his blue balls in peace." Newt said and turned to walk away, motioning for Thomas to crawl after him. Thomas followed, eyes filled with tears. he hadn't actually believed that Newt was gonna et him cum tonight after the soapy bottles but now, knowing that he'd almost had multiple orgasms coming his way and had lost them he was sobbing well, just like a baby.

It never once crossed Thomas's mind that Newt was lying about how he had been planning to let him cum tonight. That Newt had decided if he had to change the baby early and lose his fun he'd make new fun. even despite the promise he'd made at the start of the day he hadn't meant it. He wanted to see just how blue he could make Thomas's balls go before the baby would give in and hump himself to a slight relief and earn punishments. Life in the maze wasn't easy, but if you could find a way to keep yourself busy and find some entertainment as well it was more then bearable. And Newt had his big dumb baby to play with now and forever.

the end

[justjessame]

Not A Loser Anymore Chapter 2

Morgan felt pretty damn pissed that she hadn’t followed Clay when he left the bar. She stood looking up at the burnt remains of his hotel. Fuck, she’d spent months watching him and his fellow assholes. Watching to make sure something idiotic and news catching like a fucking hotel catching fire. Shit. Oh he had made absolutely good on his promise that his team were responsible, she groaned and walked back to her own small hotel.

Where would they end up next? She had to think that they wouldn’t stick around after something this massive happened. After all, if they were found faking their own deaths, then they’d be up shit creek without a paddle. She was always their paddle in shit creek. Keeping their lifeboat above the rushing water, until they truly needed her.

She sat down on the crappy bed that her hotel provided. At least there weren’t bugs, she thought, holding her head as she considered what had gone so horribly wrong that she was sitting in fucking Bolivia doing recon to keep her former team safe from themselves.

WEEKS BEFORE THE OP IN BOLIVIA

“Fuck you, Clay!” She’d screamed, slamming the door of his bedroom as she stomped out to the main living area of their base. She didn’t pay attention to the open mouthed stares that the rest of her team were giving her. She wasn’t aware that she’d left every piece of her clothing behind with Clay and was stalking to her own room in nothing but her bra and the briefest scrap of lace that could barely be called panties covering her.

Morgan hadn’t wanted to be unprofessional. She fought against ever repeating their first meeting. He was her superior officer. Her BOSS for fuck’s sake. She’d left the note, as impersonal as it could get, and scurried from her apartment the morning after simply because that wasn’t her. She was a fucking doctor and a professional. So waking up next to him, even if he was the best sex she’d ever had, was a nightmare. She would have blamed the booze, but she hadn’t felt that tipsy when she pushed him against the building steps away from the bar. She definitely wasn’t drunk when he slammed her against her front door and fucked her senseless. Or the multiple other times they came together that night. When the light of dawn woke her, she’d been pressed against his chest, his arms holding her tight, and his head pressed against hers.

It felt good, but it was wrong. Wrong, wrong, and dangerous to her career. She booked it after jotting down that fucking note. The note they just fought over, again. After another slip off the wagon that she was on trying to keep from fucking her boss. Again. And again. And again. Worst recovering addict ever.

And every single time after that first night, Clay had to remind her that she ran. That she didn’t trust what they felt enough to stay and talk to him. Usually he waited until they were naked and at least partially sated, but tonight he started as they were taking their clothes off. And ruined it by making her feel like an idiot. Reminding her early the reasons she had rushed out that first morning. Reminding her how wrong their screwing around was, and as it was, how wrong this whole fucking situation was for them. For the team. For him and for her.

She was clothed and packing when she heard a knock on her door. Fuming, but certain it wasn’t Clay she grunted her assent for her visitor to come in. It was Jensen. Tech geek, and sweetheart, even if he was the most awkward human on the planet. Shame really, because he was very attractive.

“Mo,” he started, seeing her bags being filled with her shit. “Come on, Mo, this too shall pass.”

She rolled her eyes and glared at him. “No, Jensen, it won’t. That’s the problem. It never passes, not for long.” Morgan sighed and tossed the last of her possessions in her duffle. Zipping it up, she sat down on her bed and tried to smile at the computer nerd with arms of a Greek god. “Look, I can’t stay, not anymore. Cougar is a great medic, you guys don’t need me.” She forced herself to stand. “I have to go, fuck this stress is worse than putting aloe on the burned ass of monkey.” Grabbing her duffle and suitcase, she walked to the door of her room. “Don’t worry, Jen, I’m sure I’ll see you again.” He leaned down and she kissed his cheek. “Tell the others bye for me, would you?” He nodded and she was gone.

A WEEK AFTER THE OP WENT WRONG

Morgan could still see the commanding officer coming to her door. She couldn’t understand why they came to her, until he told her that Clay had named her as his next of kin. The officer stood in front of her saying all the usual platitudes that came from informing someone their loved one was dead in the line of duty. Even if it was unsanctioned. Even if it was a fuck up of massive proportions.

She had stopped the man, just as he was telling her that she would be given the folded flag, “What did they find?”

“Ma’am?” The officer asked, trying to understand her question.

“Of the bodies, what was found?” She asked, watching the man’s face. He looked uncomfortable. “They did find bodies, didn’t they?”

“It was a helicopter crash of sorts, ma’am.” He looked down at his shiny boots. “There wasn’t much left of anything, they found the dog tags of the team.”

She nodded, feeling that Clay and the team weren't dead at all. And she’d make it her mission to find out just what the hell had happened.

It had taken months. Months of bureacratic red tape and calling in every favor she’d ever made over her years of saving lives, or at least saving the shame of some idiotic decisions. She struggled, and fought against giving up, but in the end it had paid off.

The OP was requested on the behest of some shadowy figure called “Max.” Morgan couldn’t find much to prove Max was a human, but clearly he had to be. It wasn’t a mission she’d known about when she left the team, so it had to be one that wasn’t given much planning, which didn’t sound like Clay at all. The man was an asshole, but he was careful with his people.

From what she could gather, it was supposed to be a simple in and out type of job. So why were so many people dead? And why did Clay take the team underground? Morgan had realized that she’d have to go to Bolivia. Finding out information on the ground would have to be easier than pulling teeth in the U.S.

Finding them was easier than she’d expected. She had set up her headquarters in a small rundown, but clean hotel on the edge of town. Walking down the main street the first night, and there he was. Dressed in that damn dark suit of his, with the white shirt gleaming against his tanned skin, she nearly tripped. He walked into the very dive bar she watched him in the night of the fire, and every night after.

She didn’t only focus on Clay, though she was itching to find out why he’d choose her of all people as next of kin. No, she found Jensen and Cougar working at a baby doll factory, of all places. Jensen was always easy to pick out of the crowd with his loud t-shirts that barely held together under the strain of his muscles. Cougar was also fairly simple to pick out of a crowd. Women flocked to the sniper who didn’t use many words. And eventually she’d seen Roque and Pooch, too.

Confirming they weren’t dead, she wondered about Pooch. His wife was due to have a baby, and soon. That had to make this self imposed “death” difficult on them both. She’d checked in on Jolene before making the trip. She found the pregnant woman as disbelieving as she was that they were dead. Her reason? Pooch’s wedding ring wasn’t with his dog tags. Why would he suddenly take it off the chain if he hadn’t been alive to keep it?

Morgan agreed with Jolene, and Jensen’s sister when she checked on her before leaving for Bolivia. Same story, with less proof and more of a feeling. Funny how only the women seemed to realize that the story didn’t mesh with the men they knew.

And so, Morgan kept watch. She knew her former team. Knew all of them well enough to know that one of them would fuck up, and she had hoped that she’d be able to swoop in and make sure the fuck up wouldn’t end up with them actually dying.

A WEEK AFTER THE HOTEL FIRE

Morgan was on her cell phone, rolling her eyes at the dickhead on the other end. “No, I don’t want to know about the endangered animals being smuggled into the United States. I’m sure it’s a terrible and horrifying situation, but what I TRULY need to know is whether there have been any strange shipments scheduled to come into the states that don’t seem ‘right’ to you.” She sighed, “Look Skippy, I’m sure that the plight of the average custom’s agent is just fucking the most stress a human could possibly experience, but if you don’t tell me what I want to know, the stress you’re feeling is going to be raised by one hundred percent.” She listened as he described the plane. The caskets. The number of caskets. Nodding, she jotted the information down on a napkin. “Well, thanks Skippy. I’m glad that we don’t have to meet face to face after all, but I promise, you and your team can expect a nice surprise for lunch.”

Guess I’m headed to Florida, Morgan sighed to herself. She’d been surprised when she learned that the team was coming back to the states. It wasn’t that difficult to get some information, but the U.S. isn’t exactly a shoebox, so she had to finagle more information, and Skip with US Customs was one of the tactics she had to use. Grabbing her duffle that she kept packed and lived out of, she was calling using it to find a flight as she rushed downstairs and into the open.

She hadn’t taken two steps before colliding with a wall of muscle. Damn it. Looking up she literally groaned out loud. “Roque.” She said, glaring up at Clay’s second in command. “What a pleasure.” She glanced down at her phone, locking the screen so he didn’t have a chance to see the flight information.

“You don’t sound surprised to see me,” Roque said, stepping back and crossing his arms across his chest. “In fact, you don’t seem shocked that I’m in this pissant town.”

Morgan bit her lip and looked up at him. “Did you guys really think that people who KNOW you would believe that a helicopter crash without the right number of bodies and just your dog tags left behind would be proof that you were dead?” She scoffed. “Pooch kept his wedding band. Jensen’s sister said the online view of the Petunia soccer games is showing someone watching faithfully from BOLIVIA of all fucking places. And Clay? He was dumb enough to name me his next of kin.” She unzipped her duffle and pulled out the folded flag and handed it to Roque. “I thought he’d like to have his flag.”

“Mo-” She shook her head, stopping him. He held the flag loosely in his hands. He knew that Clay and her relationship was complicated at best, and screwed from the beginning at worst, but this, her here?

“Look,” she said, another sigh and tipping her head back to look up at him. “I got used to keeping all of you in one piece. I had to make sure you were all alright. I-”

“Had to see him again for yourself.” Roque finished, pulling her into his arms. “Fuck, Clay and you, never quite understood it, but he shouldn’t have put this on your shoulders, Mo.”

She shrugged in his arms. “I wanted to be sure that all of you were safe. I know-” she stopped, giving up intel would suck, but she had to know their plans. Or at least something to keep her sanity about them staying safe. “I know you’re heading back to America. I know you won’t tell me anything, but-” She closed her eyes, pushing away the pain of not being with them, with HIM. “Tell me you’re going to be safe. Tell me that, and I’ll happily go back to my house. I’ll start up with the hospital that wants me so badly they can taste it, and I’ll move on.”

Roque’s arms stiffened around her. He heard her pain. The pain of being apart from Clay and from their ragtag group. Mostly, he thought, from being apart from Clay. He didn’t trust the new girl. He didn’t believe her story or her insistence about what she wanted. Clay could be completely fucking ridiculous, but this chick? She was going to bring them low. How could he promise Morgan that they’d be safe when he didn’t believe it himself. “I’ll promise that we’ll stick together, Mo. I’ll promise that I have their backs and they got mine. That’s all I can promise.”

She nodded and drew back. “Guess that’ll have to do, won’t it?” Her eyes were glassy and Roque realized he’d never seen Morgan cry. Pissed, screaming, and bossy he’d seen all that with her, but this? She was broken. He tried to hand her the flag, but she shook her head. “That’s Clay’s. Give it to him. Tell him goodbye.” He watched as she got in a waiting cab and drove away. He remembered the night she left them all behind. Remembered how it changed Clay. This? This was going to be the reckoning.

Clay looked up from the intel that Aisha had given them about the plan to be smuggled back to the states. He heard Roque walk in and was about to call him over when his second thumped a folded triangle of the stars and stripes down on the table in front of him. “What the fuck?” Clay asked, looking up at the glaring face of a man he’d count on anytime in his life.

“Mo thought you’d like your flag.” Roque growled, throwing himself into a chair nearby. He looked up at Clay’s startled face. “Don’t worry, she’s gone.” “Gone?” Clay was afraid to touch the carefully folded flag, afraid he’d smell her on the fabric. “She was here?”

Roque nodded. “She was checking on a feeling she had about us. Mo knew we weren’t dead, Clay.” He glared up at his commander. “She saw us, all of us. And she wanted to know why you named her next of kin.”

Clay closed his eyes and fought the pain in his chest at the memory. He’d completely forgotten about that. He’d changed it when she joined them. He knew she’d be the only person on Earth he’d trust with his body, living or dead. “Fuck.” He gritted through his teeth. “What else does she know?” He had to force himself to the task at hand. Killing Max, hopefully getting their lives back.

Roque shrugged. “Not much, that she’d tell me anyway.” He pulled out one of his knives and rolled it between his hands. “She wanted me to tell you ‘goodbye’. She said it was time to move on.”

“Move on?” Clay growled. “Move on? Is that a fucking joke? She’s the one who walked out on us, Roque. Her, not me. She walked out and told Jensen to tell us goodbye the last time. Morgan fucking Dean has walked out on me more times than I can fucking count. Move on, well fine let her fucking move on.” He pushed the flag out of his way and went back to the plan. “Aisha wants to have us unloaded here-” He was showing Roque the plan, but in his mind he was remembering that night. The last night he’d seen her in the flesh.

Morgan had worn a dress that would make any grown man fall to his knees. Then, as though she wasn’t a fucking walking wet dream already, she’d started stripping for him. Baring her shoulders, that fucking blue lily tattoo on her right shoulder blade shining against her pink skin, he’d watched mesmerized.

She got down to the wisp of lace she jokingly called panties, and a bra that barely held her breasts. And what had he done? He opened his fucking mouth and ruined it. Again.

“You aren’t gonna run away as soon as we’re done, are you?” He’d been teasing, that’s what he told himself, but he didn’t believe it anymore. He was harboring the pain of waking up in her bed that first morning with the stupid note. He watched the pain flit across her face at the reminder. A reminder he gave EVERY goddamn time she gave herself to him. EVERY fucking time, but this time they didn’t even get to the giving part.

She glared at him, hands on her hips and feet shoulder width apart. A soldier, through and through. “Every time, Clay, every time.” She shook her head as he tried to tease the stupidity of his own fucking mouth away. “You know what, Clay?” She started for his door, and turned back long enough to give him that heated look that could either ignite his fire or douse it. “FUCK YOU, CLAY!” She slammed the door behind her.

Clay had sat on his bed, back against the wall, waiting. Usually she’d force herself back, to have even more of a verbal match, but she never came. He fumed that she’d just walk away, again. She always walked away. Always. It wasn’t until morning, when Jensen gave him a sad, but terrified look that he knew. She was gone. This time she wouldn’t just walk back in and get back to work.

His team had looked at him like he was the biggest fucking loser of them all. And for a while, he had to agree. As the other men joined Roque and him at the table, he tried to convince himself that he didn’t agree with the feeling like he’d ruined something. That he hadn’t pushed her right out the door that she’d slammed. That it wasn’t his butthurt pride that ruined his last time with Morgan. That looking at the flag they’d given her upon his death didn’t pierce right through him. Because that flag meant what words and screaming matched never did. She was done. Finished with him. And he had to blink away the pain, because she was his medic and she wasn’t here anymore.

[doof-doofblog]

"Their Mum Isn't Even Here, Jean!"

Monday 18th May 2020

Good Afternoon folks! I hope you've all had a good week, I'm sure you've all been made aware of the recent EastEnders news! For those of you who haven't heard, the soap writers and the rest of the team have been given the green light to start re-filming again, this is due to take place some time next month. However, it does mean that EastEnders will be taken off air for a few weeks until the time will come for them to start re-filming again. This is fantastic news that we've all been waiting for, we won't have to wait much longer than expected for us to get our usual 4 episodes a week back. How long the soap will be off air still remains unknown. It also has been revealed that script-writers will include characters talking about the current pandemic. I for one, feel it's amazing news to hear that plans are in place for our favourite actors and actresses to walk through the Square again! Crew will still make sure that everyone follows the rules and for them to keep 2 meters apart and the recording/editing team will use techniques to make it look as natural as possible for the viewers.  I also realise this post is a bit late, due to me being in work again, but today I will post 2 blogs covering both last night's episode and tonight's episode.

I also have some other news for you, it has been revealed that EastEnders are planning to film an episode which will focus entirely on Ben and his hearing loss. The soap will feature subtitles and muffled audio for the audience to get the idea and/or experience what Ben is currently going through. I for one, am REALLY looking forward to seeing this episode. It will be something completely different and something that we've never seen before. I love when soaps jump in the deep end and decide to show something completely different, it was the same when Bobby kept seeing Lucy and also when Stacey went through her breakdown a couple of years ago. I just find it fascinating! I'm sure it'll be a momentous moment for EastEnders and it'll get rave feedback! Are you looking forward to seeing this episode air? The episode will be shown on Monday 1st June! I can hardly contain my excitement!

Now, let's make a start on last night's episode, a lot to cover from last night I think. Let's start with Isaac, still moping about finding out about Patrick being his biological father. Denise has done everything she can to keep him from making a mess of himself. She knows he's struggling but skipping work and making up excuses and drinking until he's nearly having a pee in front of children, is definitely not the way to be coping. All I can really say is, thank you to Bailey! What an amazing child she is! Amazing that it's taken a child to actual make a grown-up realise he hasn't really got it all that bad! Yeah, it would be a shock to him, but what Bailey said was absolutely inspirational and it really spoke truth to him. She's absolutely right in the fact that the guy who Isaac thought was his Dad, never left his side till his death. He was with him every single day and treated him like his own, now he's got another Dad to help him with his future, he could really make a go of building a relationship with Patrick if he gave him the chance. When Bailey spoke how lucky she was to have had two Mum's, I just thought it was absolutely moving, really sweet. I'm hoping now Isaac will realise he hasn't got it all that bad and he'll be able to move on, perhaps when Patrick and Sheree come back, he'll be able to ask them any questions he wants answering and maybe then, he'll feel ready to move on and accept Patrick is his Dad.

Oh Keegan! I feel like he's just not dealing with things well at the moment. I mean, did he really need to post up the video to his social media, inevitably putting Jack's job at risk! Jack told him to keep it to himself as their could be consequences, and its as if he didn't care. He was selfish and wanted to uphold his reputation. I mean, I get he wanted to prove he was innocent, but that would have happened in time and the police would've admitted their mistakes, but it's as if he can't let go after the way they treated him. I personally, feel sorry for Tiffany in all of this, she's being stuck right in the middle of it all. She's trying her best to support and understand her husband, but also her uncle put his neck on the line for her husband. What's going to happen now? Could Jack be in deep trouble with this colleagues? Will Keegan get the justice he's so desperate for? Or will he come to regret posting the video in the first place? I know it's awful to say, but I'm kinda getting a bit bored of this story-line now, I have a feeling this will change Keegan's personality completely and it may lead to further story-lines involving him fighting against the police, fighting for equality and stuff like that? I could be completely wrong, but I just have a feeling that might be the direction it'll take, who knows? I am concerned for Jack now though, is he going to lose his job now though due to Keegan's actions? Will he be able to explain himself or will he do as Keegan suggested and keep quiet? What do you think is going to happen? Do you see this story-line dying down eventually or could it take a whole new direction? Let me know what you think guys, I'd love to hear your thoughts!

Ha! She may be a bit gullible, but I do love Habiba! She brings a lot of comedy to the soap, which is what we really need right now. At first I thought she was going to get away with it and be able to get the information for Rainie! I loved the look on Ian's face when he thought she was serious about getting to know more about the business. It was only when she dropped all her papers and Ian saw her paperwork it was all going to go downhill! I just loved the fact she didn't seem to click, not even knowing what "Sweet FA" meant! God bless her! Haha! But now Ian has made Max aware of what is going on, what does it mean for Max? Will he still give Rainie the divorce she wants? Or will he be able to give her the divorce and still be able to keep the majority of his money! Even Ruby mentioned he should be careful with money, considering he wanted to take her out for a meal even though he still has a divorce to pay for. Did anyone else see the flirtation between Ruby and Martin?! Okay, let me just say ... where the heck has Martin been?! With everything happening with Jean, surely he would've been there to help Kush out ... hmm maybe now he'll start helping? Anyway, there was obvious flirtation and sexual attraction there between Martin and Ruby ... Didn't they sleep together once a while back?! And they've not mentioned it to anyone or to each other since? Now Ruby has offered him a job, could there be something on the horizon for them? And will Max start to feel jealous around them and begin to notice what's going on?!

So, due to Ben having a temperature, his operation has had to be postponed. It's a bit of shame as I feel everyone wanted him to get it done there and then, obviously Ben more than anyone! Callum was there to support his partner, after having their argument the episode beforehand, he knew he had to be there for him. It was massive blow for Ben to be told he couldn't have the operation, he just wants everything to be back to normal. But now the question is, when will he have the operation? Will it still be a success? But most importantly, will he have the operation in time before he has to do the dodgy deal with his Dad? Something is telling me, No! Even Phil was eager to know when they'd reschedule his op for, and Kathy noticed it was the exact same way that Ben reacted! Is she going to click on that something is happening between the two of them and will she find out what they're involved in?! I'm really looking forward to seeing what the future holds for Ben, the episode that's going to be completely focused on him is going to be epic! We know that Ben is still meant to come across someone who is completely deaf, a young girl named Frankie will come into the soap, will she be able to help Ben come to terms with his hearing loss? I do hope his op will be successful, but of course, we will all have to wait and see!

Ooooh poor Jean! I just want to give her a big hug and tell her everything is okay. She's found out that both Kush and Shirley were slipping her medication into her food and drink, which actually caused her to have her fit. They'd accidentally given her too much and she'd been poisoned by the vast amount they'd given her. Of course their intentions were caring and loving as they both care very deeply for Jean and can see that she's not being herself recently, they were literally trying to do their best at caring for her. It just turned out so drastically wrong. I hated the fact that Suki had to get involved, she was more bothered about her cardigan!! She is going to be so smug now knowing that Jean also has bipolar and that she was there to help and even stop the hospital from getting both Kush and Shirley in trouble. Jean owes her nothing and I hope Jean knows that! What is Suki getting out of this? I don't understand, why can't she just keep her distance from Jean and leave her alone! I feel sorry for all of them, I feel sorry for Jean, I feel sorry for Kush and Shirley. Everyone is just trying to help and poor Jean can't see that, and now she feels as if she can't trust them and has decided to throw Kush out, as well as the kids. I'm worried that her living on her own is going to cause her more problems, how will she be able to cope? I think now is the time for Stacey and Kat to come back, Jean's mental state is only going to get from bad to worse and without Kush or Shirley being there to look after her, who's going to let them know?! Maybe Kush and Shirley can keep an eye on her from a distance? Will Kush finally inform Martin about is happening? Either way, I just hope Jean will be okay, although I do fear it's only going to get worse for her before it gets better.

I hope you've all enjoyed reading, if you have anything you'd like to talk to me about regarding EastEnders, feel free to send me a message. I'd love to hear your thoughts and opinions on the current story-lines. I'll be back again this evening with a second post following up tonight's episode! Thanks folks! xXx

[evdarcy]

An Unusual Hero C7S2

Please remember, this is unedited and unfinished, but will hopefully fill in the holes that were left and answer some questions without leaving too many others. HOWEVER I will answer all and any questions if you want to leave me a comment.

Next update - Tuesday 11/05/2021

‘Pardon me, ma'am.’

Sarah rolled her eyes at Luc as he charmed some young sales assistant with his version of a British accent. She had to admit it was actually good. Rather than a generic British tone American actors tended to use on TV, he was hitting a relatively authentic London accent. Or should she say accents? It did move between areas of London with each sentence. A true Englishman would be confused as hell as to where the star was supposed to be from and call bullshit on him, but to a young American girl his accent was as genuine as she’d have ever heard.

She was probably also working out how to get him into the back room to put that mouth to other uses. Sarah was.

At six foot two, Luc Truman was the epitome of the prefect man. His broad shoulders and tapered waist made you feel he was strong and powerful, able to lift you up and throw you over his shoulder. His handsome face stopped your breath as you marvelled at its perfection, strong jaw, straight nose, a picture of near-perfect symmetry. Da Vinci couldn’t have drawn a more perfect specimen.

And when those rich green eyes turned to you, there was no question of if you’d drop your knickers it was a matter of where could you disappear to in order to get the deed done.

Sarah swallowed as Luc chose that moment to turn said panty-wetting eyes in her direction. He threw her a wink and a lopsided smirk before he turned back to the girl. He rested his weight on his hand against the wall, blocking the woman in with his body as the tiny thing leant back, her small, perfectly pert breasts thrusting out.

Sarah dropped her gaze to her own ample pair; their large round shape held down by a minimising bra. Jack had told her it was to help her be able to move around easily, to stop them getting in the way or getting sore during training. Sarah had a feeling it was more to do with not having tops to fit her. They’d be stretched so tight the men on base probably wouldn’t have seen her as anything other than a massive pair of tits.

She glanced back up in time to see Luc throw his head back in laughter, the girl had her hand on his chest, her smile bright and beaming under his attention.

Once, Sarah had had a dream similar to such a sight; that was how their first meeting was supposed to go. She’d say something witty and make him do that world famous laugh, he’d flirt outrageously and she’d bat her lashes at him. He’d reach up and tuck a stray strand of hair behind her ear before he tilted her face to his as he lowered his own and captured her lips in a searing kiss.

Instead, Sarah had lead a terrorist to him, made him almost piss himself, run for his life and leave behind everyone he loved after dragging him halfway across the country.

Sarah sighed. So much for dreams.

The sales sales girl lowered her head and looked up at Luc through her lashes.

Right, time to put a stop to the little charade. Hopefully, the star had the information he needed, she didn’t want the girl actually thinking she had a chance with the man and come looking for him later…

More like you don’t want her getting your dream, her mind taunted.

‘Darling,’ Sarah called, her accent far more polished-British than Luc’s. ‘The young man’s taking everything to the till. Are you done?’

She sauntered to his side, her hips swaying in an exaggerated manner—most men loved it when she did that and Luc didn’t disappoint. His eyes dropped to her waist, watching her as she neared; she could feel his gaze on her, her body warming under it, as he took a step away from the little chit, cleared his throat and nodded his head, his demeanour immediately changing. But Sarah kept her eyes on the younger woman who was frowning in confusion at the interruption.

‘Of course,’ he said, and Sarah was surprised by how his voice once again changed. He mirrored her own clean cut British tone in a way any BBC newsreader would be proud to duplicate. ‘Willow here was explaining to me that we’re too early for the cabins; we’ll have to get a tent or rent an RV.’

The sales assistant’s eyes went wide as Sarah came to a stop at Luc’s side. Sarah turned her head towards Luc, but her eyes still remained fixed on the woman as her TV star slid his arm around her waist and pulled her close against him. Sarah totally played into it.

Curling her body in towards his, she pressed herself against him from shoulder to thigh marking him as her own. She hoped it screamed back off bitch to the girl, because it was exactly what she wanted to say.

If anyone had said to her at in her early twenties, when Luc had broken out into the movie business, that she’d be in such a position, she’d have laughed in their face and asked how much would it cost to have it happen. Of course, this was before conventions became a thing, giving everyone such an opportunity. Unfortunately for Sarah, they never seemed to fall during the school holidays, which meant unless she won the lottery she was never going to be able to meet her stars and be wrapped in their arms for a hug during a photo op.

This was just as fake as any photo call, but with the way the girl was now looking between the two of them, disappointment and jealousy burning in her big brown eyes, it was so much better.

God, she wished she could somehow kiss him. Just press her lips against his and make all her dreams come true.

‘What a shame,’ Sarah said pouting as she glanced up at Luc through her lashes. He smirked down at her as he reached up and took her chin between his fingers and thumb, turning her face up properly. Her breath stuttered in her throat as memories of fantasies she’d nourished over the years swept through her mind and she went crossed-eyed when lowered his head to hers and… dropped a kiss to her nose! She had to suck her pouting lip between her teeth to stop herself from both squeaking in excitement and wailing in disappointment.

‘Don’t pout, Duchess,’ he grinned as he pulled back. His eyes dropped to her mouth briefly before meeting her gaze again. It was almost as if he could read her mind. Did the bastard know what she was thinking and was screwing with her?

‘I’ll get us a really nice RV. What’s that mean again?’ Luc turned his attention back to the other woman as he pulled Sarah closer to him, the hand around her waist slid down to her arse and gave it a squeeze. Sarah had to stop her eyes from going wide at the action, had to cover the squeak that bubbled at the top of her throat with a cough, before disentangling herself from his arms and looking up at him with what she hoped was disappointment in her eyes.

What she really wanted to do was scream in your face! at the girl who was now stumbling over her answer, before dragging Luc into a backroom somewhere and doing exactly what she’d always dreamt of.

She felt a deep desire to log onto to Tumblr and post that Luc Truman had felt her up, with a couple of hundred gif sets of arse groping followed by a picture with her and Luc in the store fawning all over one another.

Sure, it was a step backwards for feminism, but she’d gladly take that step and a few hundred more if it meant feeling those lips against hers or those hands somewhere else on her body.

Instead, Sarah looked back at the sales assistant with utter disdain, hoping the girl would recall her face far clearer than Luc’s merely for the contempt she held for the young thing. ‘Hurry up and finish playing here’—she waved her hand dismissively at the woman—‘I’m going to go and pay for our purchases.’

She heard the girl give a little gasp of disgust as Sarah turned on her heel and headed towards the counter to pay the bill. Yes, in the other woman’s mind, Luc’s face would be given a soft focus, slightly hazy with the ideals of perfection and lust, mixed with a hundred other notions of what made a man handsome. Sarah would be the one sharply in focus if she was ever questioned, and Sarah had enough wigs, glasses and prosthetic makeup packed away to walk back in here tomorrow and receive nothing but love from Willow.

The store clerk, who’d actually done his job running around collecting everything on the list Luc had made earlier, tried to hand back her change just as the star came up behind her.

‘Keep it,’ she told the clerk with a purposefully forced looking smile. ‘At least someone is working in this place.’ She said it just loud enough for the manager at the other end of the counter to hear. The man glanced over and she pointedly looked towards Willow who was still watching Luc as he swaggered towards the counter.

‘Well, that was pretty mean,’ Luc said as they each grabbed a paper bag and headed out of the store. Sarah shrugged, but held her head a little higher. She had a little bounce in her step as they headed back to the car, feeling as if she were walking through the clouds as her bum cheek still tingled where Luc had touched her.

‘Duchess?’ she asked, changing the subject.

‘I gave you a back-story.’

‘Really?’ She stared at him over the top of the car as they put the last of their parcels on the back seats. They’d visited half a dozen shops that morning and she prayed he hadn’t been recognised in any of them. But it would have been far riskier to have left him sat in the car on his own. ‘I needed a back-story?’

‘Yeah, you’re the one with the money and I’m your plaything. Only with you so that I can benefit from your wealth.’

The clouds parted and Sarah fell back to Earth with a thud at the idea that someone like him would only be with her for a reason other than what he could get out of the relationship. She frowned as they climbed in the car and she began the process of twisting together the wires to restart its engine.

Okay, so she wasn’t the most beautiful woman in the world, but she certainly wasn’t ugly. She hadn’t needed money to snag Jimmy and he’d been just as hot as any TV star—although she squashed the thought of her former fiance quickly. She had no time to go back down the grief-well she’d had months of therapy to escape.

Luc hummed as they drove back through the town, heading north to the 191 again and the cabin he’d spied earlier. If perky-tits was right about the Season not yet starting, they’d have a bit of time to gather themselves together and formulate a plan of what to do next.

She glanced at Luc out the corner of her eye; she had to remember that the man next to her was an actor. She couldn’t afford to get caught up in any fantasies or roles he conjured up for them to play when in public. He was an award winning Star and she was just a teacher. They lived in separate worlds and had only been thrown together in this limbo they were now straddling as they ran for their lives.

She took a deep breath and rolled her shoulders as she turned back onto the highway and put her foot down.

She could do this. She could do this—

Patrick’s Swayze’s “She’s like the Wind” crooned from the speakers as Luc switched the radio to a golden oldies station. He instantly picked up the tune, singing perfectly alongside Swayze’s voice.

Sarah groaned quietly as she turned to look at the star. His green eyes were bright, a smile playing on his lips, and he sung as if he were free and easy with their situation.

He chose that moment to turn to her, his smile beaming brighter as he raised his voice to sing louder, drowning out Swayze…

She ripped her eyes away from him, focusing back on the road ahead.

Life was not fair.

Any questions, please drop them in the comments. Next update on Tuesday!

[feliciamaisey]

I Shat Myself In the Forbidden City!

As vacations go, a twelve-day vacation to India and three-day extension to China seemed ideal, especially because my eldest daughter was gifting me the experience simply because I had expressed an interest in joining her on her first journey to India.  She had always had an interest in the music, dance, and artistry of India so when she had mentioned it to me, I found a solid tourist opportunity and before I knew it, we were buying luggage and clothing suitable for such an exotic location.

India was magnificent. There was so much to see, taste, and smell that it was almost sensory overload at times, but it was undoubtedly one of the most amazing things we have ever done together.  For one thing, the country is self-contained –the Indian farmers literally grow and cultivate all of the foods and spices they use in their many dishes, which means that they need not import/export goods.  People can be quite kind and also quite pushy, as the usual stateside boundaries between people means very little in a country that boasts over a billion people, many of whom are simply bartering services or trying to sell tourists something. Colors and scents permeate every single available space like the abandoned cows, meandering water buffalo and elephants, corralled camels and homeless dogs draw one’s eye.

Before we left for our trip, I was consumed with worry that I would not be able to eat in either India or China, having given up meats, never having eaten Indian dishes due to allergies, and having abandoned Chinese food due to a poisoned shrimp roll years beforehand.  I need not have worried though, because the foods on offer were astounding; not only was there an array of fresh fruits and vegetables, but I discovered that grilled veggies and hakka noodles are literally one of the most splendid offerings that any tourist could hope to be discovered! In addition, the desserts and bread easily eclipsed the most notorious of Indian dishes.

I must say that India surprised me at every turn– from the tiger preserve with over 200 native species of birds and tigers in hiding, an outdoor shower and the rich aroma of local fauna, to Jaipur with its pink stone structures, Dehli with its systemic caste norms and its astoundingly intricate traffic patterns, dancing with locals during Holi Festival to a private tourist party where we really cut loose, India amazed. Witnessing the genius of the Taj Mahal, the mini Taj and elephants on parade, marching 30 miles to the top echelon of his majesty’s interior courtyard and visiting the royal chambers, learning about India and Pakistan,  and the most amazing tour guide made leaving India quite difficult–in fact, getting out of India was simplistic whereas getting into the country had taken several hours in the middle of the night.

China awaited, but our quaint group was now in disarray because few people vacationed forward for the three-day excursion.  Chinese officials at the airport made entering the country horrific.  It is one thing to be cautious, but the group found themselves re-writing clearance documents and opening every piece of luggage, and we stood paralyzed by the shock of unopened items being confiscated for no apparent reason, hotel maids removing complimentary boxes of everything from sewing thread to soaps and lotions from the hotel rooms once we had finally arrived, and there existed a very specific sense of being tourists–well at least compared to being in Indian where every single person, no matter their station made tourists feel welcomed and valued for being human beings (and sometimes a meal ticket).

In the three days we spent in China, we ate a “gourmet” meal in a mall, visited the Olympics Park and saw the birds’ nest stadium, still in practical use. As Americans, we were advised to how useful the Chinese people are about using what they create as opposed to the waste of Americanism.  We walked the streets in Beijing and were astounded at the weight of the sooted air and the immaculate streets that one dare not drop a dime upon, lest they find themselves whisked away by the hordes of police officers that stationed themselves on any given walkway.  There was a jade factory and museum trip and dinner insulated between the Olympics Park foray and Tiananmen Square, and the Mao Tse Tung gateways, but the part of the trip that will never let me forget China is our last day.

We awoke in a breathtaking hotel room, high above the Olympic Park–who knows which athletes must have awaited their turn to shine on the international stage, but I am sure that at least one or two enjoyed our room at one time during the Olympics tournament. Breakfast, like all meals in China, is one in which one must be certain of their food choices and portions–it is extremely rude to partake of food and waste it, specifically in Chinese culture, so I was excited when I saw what looked like an Americanized side of the buffet breakfast bar.  There were waffles and eggs, beautifully prepared and I was famished, having been quite sick the day beforehand and my legs were starting to show signs of revolt; I suffer from poor cartilage and damage to my knees as well as bunions that cause my back and legs a lot of pain in addition to my feet–damned flat feet.  Anyway, breakfast looked promising and even though I gulped down my vitamins and allergy pills, and charcoal tabs to curb poisoning should it happen, I made a terrible mistake….

Did you ever notice how much soy, heated in a vat on a breakfast buffet, looks uncharacteristically like syrup?  Well, good for you, but guess who did not notice its rancid stench and erroneously drizzled “lots” of syrup on the waffles??  I was immediately overcome by the realization of my mistake, but there it was, plain as day on the plate. I was not going to be “that” wasteful prick of an American so I tried not to breathe as I gulped down the now-spoiled meal and ran silently to the room where I tried to brush away the lingering taste on my tongue.

I would have purged the breakfast too, but it was time to leave for the Forbidden City, something that I was really excited to do, so I made my way to the group and off we went.  To put it into perspective, the Forbidden City is literally miles upon miles of courtyards and walls, statues and guard posts, long before one gets to the inner workings of the palace.  There are many guards and four checkpoints, but only one bathroom near the first checkpoint promised Americanized toilets in addition to squats, and as I am of an age that requires such checkpoints, I made my way to the bathroom.  However, the line was long and breakfast was swiftly churning inside of me.  We had walked from the hotel to the Forbidden City, taken several photo ops, and bid our time as we made our way inside the first gate, a massive set of ancient doors that could easily scare the bejeezus out of any invading army, and all that movement not only irritated my legs, but I was really starting to feel sick.

There I stood, waiting and making small talk with others from our group, until there was just myself and one other person from our group ahead of me.  When she realized that these were, in fact, all squats and only one precious Americanized toilet, she dug her heels in and began commiserating with another person. By this point, I could feel my insides churning and I was ready to cry because every toilet stall was in use.  I was trying to do something between shimmying n place to standing deathly still for fear that my insides would betray me.  I was worried about an overly loud intestine rumble or a fart to rock the ages, but just then, I felt a panic that I had b never even felt during birth-a task that I took on 4 times– I felt my body mocking me and my stupidity for mistaking soy with syrup.

I pushed past my complaining companion and ran into the first available stall, one 6 doors to my right and across the aisle.  I opened the door and the trashcan was overflowing with sanitary napkins and toilet paper. The squat was in the middle of the floor and like most stupid American jeans, my fkg pants refused to unbutton and the zipper decided that this was the moment to get stuck.  I almost screamed in agony at the pressure of trying to un- wrangle my ass from my clothing and unpack sanitary wet wipes and the realization that I would never leave this stall if the slime from within seeped out before I got my pants down and positioned over the squat. The hole in the ground was far out of my visibility at this point as I was trying, unsuccessfully, to control the lava that exploded from my anus into the squat’s opening. The floor was wet where people had used water bottles to cleanse themselves and because of my bag and jacket, I could barely keep my garments clear of the deluge of what I was sure was poisoned Chinese foods.  

At last, I was able to get the wipes in position to cleanse myself and that is when it happened…when I looked down and realized that I had positioned myself so as not to fall into the hole’s opening, but I completely missed the damned thing and soiled the toilet’s rear perimeter in a manner that even a baby’s soiled diaper would whimper from comparison.  I barely managed to get myself wiped and dressed without falling into the slime, but just then a stranger yanked at the door. I begged her to get help, to save herself and back away, to stop staring at me as the tears welled heavily against my lids and slid down like a dam’s breaking against my crimsonly embarrassed cheek, but her pretty asian face clearly misunderstood and she stood there, staring at the disgusting filth that was inescapable.  

I ran to the sinks and scrubbed my hands, waving away anyone who dared to follow her gaze and I tried to find someone to help me, but I recoiled at my shame and finally ran to my daughter in tears.  She had no choice, but to hold back he natural inclination to burst into laughter as I cried into her ear, “I shat myself in the Forbidden City!” As is her way, she consoled me and made sure that I was not wearing any of the soil on my person before we crossed the immense vastness of the courtyard and lost ourselves in the palace’s secrets.

Even the Great Wall of China, blowing my knee completely on its steep incline, and finding an Americanized bathroom for my daughter on the premises that night paled in the shock and horror of being “that shitty American.”

[aarcee321]

PM'S VISIT TO LADAKH : PURPOSE AND INTENT

PM's visit to Ladakh while even pullback process has not commenced, must have come as a surprise to many; media, analysts, politicians, the general public Armed Forces including.

Modi Ji has been the PM since last six years, not a small duration but not too long either, but his grasp of the subject at hand has been thorough indeed and to the minutest details.

We saw how quickly he understood the need for lockdown and he lost no time in implementing it, this proves his resoluteness and decisiveness to deal with crises at hand.

While the battle with Corona was still in its most intense phase, the supposed originator or inventor of COVID 19, China, moved its Army in massive strengths to the LAC in Galwan valley.

What happened thereafter needs no repetition. Suffice it to say, the way our Army fought would have sent chilling shivers down the spine of Red Army, from the lowest rank to the highest commanders.

But there is a different problem which I wish to delve into, and hence this little longer backgrounder.

Not because I am an Army Guy but every one including those who are working hardest to ensure that Army is reduced to irrelevance as an organisation, know it more than everyone else that, when everything fails, the Army is there to take care and as always, turns 'defeat' into 'victory'.

Just an addition, "Army" here be taken as Indian "Armed Forces".

From the inputs received about the incident at Galwan, there is no shred of doubt that it was a fight between Indian and Chinese troops without use of conventional personal weapons, it was a hand to hand fight which we all are trained to fight using our bayonets fixed to the rifle when we reach the objective. But it was not even that either, it was in a way an unarmed combat of sorts. Chinese had improvised some things but more than anything else, they had planned for it and had catered for improvised lethal non-firearms of sorts. Pebbles, stones and similar objects seem to have been accumulated by the Chinese for this unconventional treachery. They seem to have planned using these DESI weapons to 'push'/'throw' back Indian Army.

This is where they went wrong. They possibly thought the present Indian Army to be Indian Army of 1962 and the country to be Nehru's India. And this is where they went wrong.

16 Bihar or for that matter all Army Units considers their CO, in this case late Col Babu, more than God. They would assault even God if He touched the CO. Injuring and killing the CO was the tipping point. Now the next factor was ability to fight. These Bihar boys or those of the Arty are village folks where fights erupting due to land/property disputes are very common. And these disputes converting into Galwan type of fight happen as swiftly or even much faster than it happened at Galwan. Back in village, the only weapon at the disposal of both the parties are "laathee" or sticks, Bhalaa, sword, Khalsaas would have Kripana and of course the stones and pebbles and the like are also available as it were at Galwan. Courage and resolve is embedded deep down in every Bharat soldier in abundance. How could the Ghataks and the next door Arty unit not respond when their fellow Biharis had been assaulted by Chinese troops. Each Bhartiya Jawan fought for the "land" as he or his kins fight for the land back at home. They all knew that they had families back home but defending the land and the comrades took higher priority and they once again made *SUPREME SACRIFICE* for this ungrateful nation, India.

The IAS would be having the last laugh and so would be Defence Civilians, that joining Armed Forces is like being caught in the mouse trap from where death is the only way out. If our soldiers would not have fought the way they did, Chinese would killed them. If just in case they would not have fought well, there would have been inquiry and study as it happened after OP VIJAY.

Fact is that our Army fought in most exemplary manner and the bloody nose that Chinese got will be difficult for them to forget for all times to come.

PM also came and showered praise which was more vacuous, high on rhetoric low/zero in substance/intent. Unlike many PMs in the past, since Modi has good command of Hindi, he showered the lolly pop of praise in abundance, "not costing any money" and in addition was the most befitting method to be used as a ruse in his quiver for misleading the Armed Forces. This ruse he offered to not only those present before him but also to also the mothers of the soldiers back home. Emotional blackmail at its best. This art of misleading, Modi not only appears to have learnt from Congress but has gone too far ahead of Congress.

Has this Government given any thing to the Armed Forces in last six years, the answer would be a big capital NO. Buying guns, missiles, aircrafts, tanks Arty guns, helicopters and so on are not for the families of the Armed Forces who face the danger of becoming a widow, children being orphaned, parents destitute and helpless when the son makes the "supreme sacrifice", these are meant for survival of the government of the day. Why MIG 29 or Sukhovi were not bought or ordered for earlier when our pilots were being killed using obsolete and vintage aircrafts, why placing the orders when not only Chinese have come to Galwan but even incurred havy casualties on the soldiers including a CO being killed. This government has used police to lathicharge the veterans who were peacefully protesting for OROP. This government has not only diluted the OROP to One Rank Five pension, it has gone back or a written agreement of every five yearly review of OROP. The first review which was to take place in May/Jun 2019 has not made any headway and the CGDA is sitting over it. Can CGDA neglect such an important commitment without tacit approval of the this untrustworthy government. Sooner than later, the OROP which presently is on the back burner will be buried deep in files consigned to cold storage. But come elections and the same PM and his lackeys will continue adnaucium harp, "we have GIVEN the Armed Forces the long pending OROP", which Modi should be saying "we, that is BJP have successfully killed the OROP".

In addition, this Government is fighting a legal battle with the same Army who have sacrificed themselves to defend this ungrateful nation and the government.

I only fear, this bureaucracy advised/controlled Government, more or less a hostage, may just not take away some facilities from the Armed Forces which the Armed Forces and the Politicians will not be able to realise in the prevailing din.

It will be worth mentioning that Armed Forces pension was reduced from 70% to 50% and of the civilian's raised from 30% to 50%, it was done by Congress government after historic unprecedented defeat of Pakistan at the hands of Indian Armed Forces, the BJP government doing the same should therefore not come as a shocker.

Why did Army lose its sons now fighting for a wasteland where "not a blade of grass grows", it didn't grow in Nehru's time it doesn't grow in Modi's era either. By the way in the same area an ITBP DIG gets more pay than an Army Brigadier. Shouldn't ITBP therefore have actually been fighting the Chinese and not the Indian Army. The Army and the sister services have been denied NFU which has been given to CAPF on a platter. And what a shame, Armed Forces officer cader are not even considered as Group A service.

SO, FOR DYING AND GETTING KILLED IT IS ARMY AND FOR NFU AND BETTER PAY AND OTHER BENEFITS IT IS IAS, IPS ALLIED SERVICES AND CAPF.

To hell with such a country, government and the people.

Hope IAS is not getting some cuts imposed on Armed Forces as Indira Government had done after our Armed Forces captures East Pakistan, a feat no Army has been able to even remotely replicate.

[newlaptopreviews]

'Far Cry 5' review: Destruction and doomsday in America

‘Far Cry 5’ is a chaotic blast through the American West.

The “Far Cry” series is known for dropping players into huge, open-world settings and letting them sew chaos and destruction as they take on each title’s menacing villain. But those settings and enemies have always been based in largely poor, tropical areas of the world, leading to criticisms of the franchise serving as a tourism simulator gone wrong.

For it’s latest entry, “Far Cry 5,” however, developer Ubisoft Montreal took the tried and true staples of the series — massive, explorable worlds and sandbox-style gameplay — and dropped them in the heart of Big Sky Country: Hope County, Montana.

That change in scenery, pays off in a big way for “Far Cry 5,” which is one of the most beautiful titles in the franchise to date. It also allowed for the game’s creative team to build a story about a doomsday cult that has taken over the region in the hopes of building its own religious outpost in the middle of the U.S. at a time when the country is dealing with a resurgence in white nationalist hate groups.

But while the narrative initially captures your attention with the charismatic cult leader Joseph Seed, it never truly reaches its potential.

America, the beautiful

It’s impossible to talk about “Far Cry 5” without mentioning just how spectacular its world looks. The team at Ubisoft Montreal built a version of Montana that allows the player to genuinely feel like they’re experiencing the grandeur of the American West. Traversing forests, running through open fields, fishing in streams and exploring small towns are a joy.

‘Far Cry 5’s’ expansive game world let’s you explore small mountain towns, pristine rivers and beautiful forests.

Driving an ATV across a mountain trail reminded me of the summers I spent biking through the woods with my brother, while riding around in a pickup truck on dirt roads and crossing rickety bridges took me back to road trips in the mountains around western Pennsylvania with my family.

The fact that “Far Cry 5” was able to coax such specific emotions from my memories is a testament to how impressive this game looks and plays.

That said, there are occasional pop-in issues, and load times are long even on the PlayStation 4 Pro. I also  wish Ubisoft added more variability to the cultists’ character models. At this point I’ve taken out so many shaggy-haired men wearing white sweaters that I’m starting to think the game is about a cloning experiment gone horribly wrong.

Peggies and preppers

Of course, that’s not the case. “Far Cry 5” revolves around a cult, the ominous-sounding Project at Eden’s Gate, run by David Koresh stand-in Joseph Seed and his siblings John, Jacob and Faith.

At the game’s outset, you, a deputy with the Hope County Sheriff’s Department, another deputy, the county sheriff and a U.S. Marshal try to take Joseph into custody on a warrant. But after slapping the cuffs on him and get him into a waiting chopper, Joseph’s followers manage to take the craft down and rescue their dear leader back.

Arresting Joseph Seed doesn’t quite go as planned.

After escaping the wreck and evading capture by the cult, you meet up with a prepper named Dutch who helps get you started on your mission to crush the Project at Eden’s Gate cultists, or Peggies, as the townsfolk call them, who have taken over the county.

How does a cult take over a county in modern day America without drawing the attention of, say, the National Guard? By buying off the police, blocking the roads and cutting off all communication to the outside world, that’s how.

It’s a hard pill to swallow, but at least the game tries to explain how and why the cult wants to take over. What it doesn’t do, though, is make you feel any kind of emotion for the endless number of cultists you kill.

The Peggies in ‘Far Cry 5’ are often forced to join the cult against their will.

It’s a shame, because “Far Cry 5’s” atmosphere and environments seem purpose built to tackle the issues of drug addiction, manipulative leaders and the existential fear Americans seem to feed on. The game’s big bads are interesting, and the side characters are fun to chat with, but the narrative never really takes you anywhere particularly new or insightful. It’s not a bad story, but it hits many of the same notes we’ve seen before.

Leaning on its strengths

Where “Far Cry 5” excels is in the open-world combat that is a hallmark of the series and allows you to tackle virtually any task as you see fit. Need to take down an outpost? Why not sneak up on it and eliminate the enemies with your compound bow? Or, you could lure each enemy away one-by-one and take them out with your bare hands.

Not enough action in this scene? Don’t worry, it gets even more intense.

Not destructive enough? You could always go in with guns blazing, or run over every enemy you see with a big rig. Heck, “Far Cry 5” even gives you the chance to pilot WWII planes armed with rockets and bombs, letting you rain destruction down on the Peggies. Sure, the planes’ controls are incredibly simplistic, but nothing is more satisfying than jumping into your plane to down the annoying helicopters and enemy pilots that have been harassing you on the ground for the last two hours.

Further upping the firepower level, is “Far Cry 5’s” new Gun for Hire mechanic that allows you to hire non-player characters to serve as your backup. You can hire everyone from a sniper to a pilot to a very good dog named Boomer to help you pulverize the Peggies. Co-op availability also lets you fight through the game with a friend or friends.

Naturally, it wouldn’t be a “Far Cry” game if you didn’t have to capture a seemingly endless number of enemy outposts. But unlike previous series entries you never feel like you’re capturing the same plot of land over and over again. That’s because each outpost has its own unique characteristics whether it be a junkyard or pumpkin farm.

That plane in the background is actually there to help you.

If you don’t want to spend your time blowing up a small chunk of U.S. soil, though, you can always turn to recreational activities like hunting, fishing or simply taking in the beauty of rural Montana.

Should you get it?

“Far Cry 5” is a fun, downright gorgeous game to play alone or with a friend. The combat is fast-paced and the ability to pilot a plane or helicopter adds new levels of verticality to the this insane game world. But while there are plenty of interesting characters ranging from alien-obsessed preppers to townspeople excited for the local Testy Festy, the game’s plot doesn’t quite reach the heights it sets out to.

Fans of the “Far Cry” series should absolutely dive into this entry, while more casual players will have a blast exploring the game’s open world and then blowing it to smithereens. Just don’t expect a particularly moving story.

Reviewed on the PlayStation 4 Pro

What’s hot: Gorgeous environments; chaotic sandbox-style gameplay; face-paced combat

What’s not: Narrative falls short despite promising setup; enemy characters lack variety

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‘Far Cry 5’ preview: Exploring cults and terror in the American West

The 10 best iPhone and Android games of the month

Email Daniel Howley at dhowley@yahoo-inc.com; follow him on Twitter at @DanielHowley.

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