#I was writing on a mountain and then on a plane you guys

[lialox]

Ugh it’s doksoo week day 5 already!! Rushing I AM RUSHING AAAAAAAA AAAAAAA!!

I’m still not done!!!!

Somehow I used all three prompts (angst, neighbourhood AU, time travel) all in one story. Spoilers under the cut since I liked these lines:

[runaeveena]

Your dashboard if you were in a d&d fantasy world still involved in fictional erotica discourse part 2

⛰️ berenicesblade Follow

now that the new Mountain Angel volume has come out can we please tag spoilers, some of us are still waiting for our pigeon mail

🦚 faeynadaughter Follow

you can access the volume in full on TomePlane!

🎭 bardcampistrash Follow

until TomePlane acknowledges that its interplanar storage is made possible by binding aboleths to the plane and killing them then we are going to continue not using that platform, thanks

🦚 faeynadaughter Follow

aboleths killed my cousin who was a royal cleric. ill never understand why theres a whole movement to protect abyssal creatures when theyve caused so much damage to our kingdoms. and disliking a pocket dimension which provides thousands of people access to books? your attitude reeks of anti literaturism and mal-aligned virtue signaling and im not sure which is worse

🫒 tenthday237 Follow

Aliizya gets pregnant on page 62

⛰️ berenicesblade Follow

banished

620 Notes

🏰 finchtruther Follow

okay but the way that faelor finch writes every song that perfectly fits pennbiel liiike its giving closet fangirl

🧭 waywardwarlock

seriouslyy!! like what else is "give me your unmarked hand / in the shadowfell we won't be a secret" supposed to be about if not pennipher and corabiel

16 Notes

🌫️ cloudgiant-snailboy Follow

yall please dont fill up the unseen servant tag with your super fucking weird smut posts im just looking for tips on how to find my unseen servant

🪡 scç-writer

the search function on tomeblr does need to be updated but we dont have to kinkshame :)

🌫️ cloudgiant-snailboy Follow

the site is being overrun by virgin degenerates

🍯 treebarkhookhandwagondoor

sounds like you need Wilam the Wizard with Wandering Hands to help you summon the unseen stick in your ass

290 Notes

🗝️ crypt-princess Follow

so whose going to be the first to commission a painting of that scene with Aliizya and the beholder 👀

🍎 bloodmaledickening Follow

i already asked my local artisan he said he's gotten two other commissions for the same scene lmao

🐁 softbarbarian

girl i commissioned a tapestry

45 Notes

🕯️ andersfirelight Follow

friendly reminder that devil deals are a real thing that a lot of people fall victim too and that demons are malicious and do destroy peoples lives if theyre not careful so please be careful when consuming works like Hellionfinity which romanticizes devil deals and fiendish soul contracts

🌾entangled-farmer Follow

imo any work of fiction that involves a romance between any type of fiend is not just problematic but harmful

🕯️ andersfirelight Follow

i used to be indifferent to books that had devil romance interests because like thats their whole thing theyre seducing people to get their souls and the mc overcomes it, but reading through the replies i see that Hellionfinity actually ends with the devil character as the main romantic lead which is super problematic in terms of power imbalance and the fact that he has a redemption arc is so out of touch especially since our military is finally recovering from the azgurian assault

🧚🏻‍♂️arms-of-faelor

helliofinity also has a scene where the main character uses a soul coin that an imprisoned mortal gave him and he uses it to bring the devil out of avernus so he doesnt fully die and no one in the book mentions it or talks about how messed up it is to use soul coins and we never see the now bound to hell prisoner ever again

🕯️ andersfirelight Follow

hellionfinity officially cancelled on my end!

88 Notes

☘️ celest-ial Follow

moment of silence for all the customers waiting on drink orders while the tavern wench gets her back blown out by a new guy every night ✊😔

🦁 king-killa Follow

the gods work hard but Girthy Gladys gets worked harder

57,022 Notes

🎲 beholdersbeholdingme

paladin and warlock romances are OUT! cleric and necromancer romances are IN!

🪭 royalcoinpurse Follow

the only thing a cleric should do to a necromancer is beat him to death so she can revive him and kill him again

🎲 beholdersbeholdingme

❇️ arch-dryad Follow

i think we need to analyze why we're so quick to place women in categories of devious seductress or healer in romance novels as if that hasnt been the pervasive trope that holds magic-touched women back in our actual society

🍯 treebarkhookhandwagondoor

why do you assume these fictional tropes are mf couples only? can a gay cleric not beat his gay necromancer boyfriend to death?

🎲 beholdersbeholdingme

and off! beat him off cmon guys

5,275 Notes

🧀 weremouse Follow

yall ever be talking or whatnot and feel like no one understands you

🪨 sebrenenogdon Follow

ᛄᚠ ᛡᚢ ᚳᚪᚾ ᚱᛁᛞ ᚦᛄᛋ ᛡᚢ ᚺᚪᚠ ᛏᚢ ᚱᛁᛒᛚᚪᚷ ᚦᛄᛋ

🧀 weremouse Follow

say that shit fr (<- looking around clueless)

🪨 sebrenenogdon Follow

ᛋᛁᚱᛁᚪᛋᛚᛁ

60 Notes

🌠 crownofstars

remember when that person made a call out post for the author of ilairepeler for using a ghost writer and it turned out the author was an actual ghost. writing. like a literal ghost writer. like.

🍄gnomestool Follow

arent you the dwarf that fucked a slaad

🌠 crownofstars

how would you like to become a ghost so you can write more witty comments like this for eternity

301 Notes

[gotta-winwin]

(🎄) ... mirth and good cheer - xmas special teaser

⭐ starring: vernon

🎄preview: vernon used to fly back to new york every christmas for one reason only: his childhood best friend. christmas used to be his and y/n’s thing, until he got seemingly too busy to ever return. now, as y/n departs to korea for the first time, she can’t help but wonder if her and vernon would ever cross paths again. vernon, unbeknownst to her, has been wondering the exact same thing. as the boys set up their christmas tree in their dorm, he does his best to ignore how hints of y/n still seemed to linger throughout the holiday air. 

tw/cw: idol!vernon x nonidol!reader, childhood friends to lovers, estranged friends, slight miscommunication, fluff, slight angst, best christmas romcom vibes, features svt members, stubborn!reader, equallystubborn!vernon, use of y/n, flips between past and present day

🐻‍❄️ release date: christmas day

☁️ masterlist & a/n: dropping a vernon x reader fic for our xmas special! doesn't vernon just scream childhood bestie to lover (੭˃ᴗ˂)੭ i just know i'm going to have sm fun writing this cuz the dynamic is so interesting! its already giving christmas romcom vibes and omg you guys are not ready.

11 DAYS FROM CHRISTMAS 2024:

“That’s not how it’s supposed to work.” Mingyu slapped Vernon’s hand away from the tree they were decorating. “It’s supposed to be symmetrical, not whatever you’re doing.”

Vernon had to admit he wasn’t really paying attention. Their dorm auntie, the one who came around once a week to clean up the place, had baked them gingerbread men as a Christmas gift, and the smell felt like it had seeped into the walls of their dorm. It was a nostalgic smell, one that took him back to his childhood, new york and-

“Vernon?” Mingyu waved a hand in front of his face. “Are you even listening right now?”

He blinked, brought back from his thoughts. “Sorry, hyung. What?”

Mingyu could only let out a deep sigh, moving to place the bauble where he intended it to be. “You’re like this every Christmas. If you miss her so much, why don’t you just fly back?”

Vernon didn’t really know why he wasn’t flying back. He certainly could be, they were off work for the holidays and a plane ticket back wasn’t hard to find. He would be doing himself a favor, putting himself out of misery and finally seeing his childhood best friend. The thing was, he wasn’t really sure if Y/N wanted to see him. He shrugged. “I don’t miss her.” It was a lie and everyone in the room knew it. 

CHRISTMAS DAY 2003: 

Everyone who knew either of them would say they were smart kids for their age. Both only five, they whispered secrets to each other like little middle schoolers would on the playground. 

“My parents say I’m going to Korea.” Vernon whispered to Y/N as they watched a christmas movie. “Forever.” Vernon always had a dramatic, theatrical side to him, even as a child.

Y/N could only frown. “Forever? Why?” She couldn’t imagine her best friend moving anywhere without her. “Am I going too?” 

Vernon mirrored her frown on his own face. “I don’t know.” Sensing her sadness, he reached over and gave her a hug. “I’ll visit every year.” He promised. 

“Every christmas.” Y/N insisted. She had always loved christmas above all else. “So we can watch movies again.”

Vernon agreed. “Okay. Every christmas. It’ll be like-” He paused, his young mind searching for the word. “Tradition.” He smiled at her, proud of the big word. 

“Promise?” Y/N stared at him with wide eyes, reaching out with her pinky, extended. “Pinky promise me.” 

Vernon grasped her pinky with his, shaking it firmly. He felt like a grown up, making one of those important business deals. “I promise.” Turning back to the screen, he let out a whine when he realized they had missed the best part. “We missed the part where the grinch screams down the mountain.” He complained. “I wanted to watch that part.”

Y/N got up, searching for the remote. “I’ll turn it back.” 

Their dynamic never changed, even as they grew older. Vernon walked through life, Y/N following behind him with eyes filled with admiration, gently nudging the boy whenever he got distracted and began walking off-track. It stayed that way even with the distance, until one Christmas, Y/N woke up and Vernon had not returned. 

CHRISTMAS DAY 2016:

“Mom?” Y/N called as she walked slowly down the stairs. She had returned home from university for the holidays and was confused when Vernon wasn’t at his usual spot to welcome her home. “Where’s Vernon?” He was usually back from Korea by now.

She didn’t like the look of pity her mother was giving her. “He didn’t tell you, honey? He’s been so busy with work, looks like he can’t fly back to join us for christmas this year.”

She felt her heart sink. She had been looking forward to spending time with him, even if it was just a couple of days out of the year. “Oh.” Of course, she understood. His work was important and she was sure the kpop industry couldn’t be easy. “That’s okay. I guess he must’ve been too busy to tell me.” 

--

“What are you still doing here?” Joshua frowned at Vernon, who was lying down on his bed. “Shouldn’t you be in New York by now?” He was used to Vernon flying back to New York every christmas since they had met. 

Vernon let out a huff. “Not going back this year, Josh.” 

“Why not?” His friend pressed, confused. Vernon was usually so excited to go back. “Isn’t your friend going to be sad?”

“I can’t miss any more practice before our comeback. One Christmas should be fine.” Vernon explained, although his voice betrayed his disappointment. He had been looking forward to going back home, to be able to see Y/N again. He thought to himself that one christmas couldn’t hurt, right?

One christmas missed turned into two. Then four. Then the timing felt too long and awkward and Vernon just never got the confidence to ever go back.

10 DAYS FROM CHRISTMAS 2024: 

Korea was beautiful underneath a sheet of snow. Y/N had landed last night, having made up her mind to give living in Korea a try. Ever since graduating university and landing a job as a screenwriter, her friends and family had always urged her to try working for the Korean film scene. 

She supposed she had always just avoided the country because of Vernon.

Her new job writing for some K-drama started after New Years. She thought maybe spending Christmas in a new place would bring back the mirth and good cheer the holiday used to give her, but she knew she was here for a different reason. A selfish and pathetic one. It burned her, that a part of her still wished to bump into Vernon after all these years. She knew he was doing well, SEVENTEEN was soaring through new heights and she had kept tabs on his ongoing success. It was the only way she kept going: his large internet presence sometimes made it feel like he never even left at all.

It hurt her the most that he could be doing so well without ever seeing her again.

Rounding the corner to the coffee shop, she rubbed her raw hands to regain heat. Ordering, she was relieved to find out she could still hold a conversation in Korean. It had gone rusty, the only people she ever used Korean with back home was Vernon’s dad and sister. 

“Hello?” Someone from behind her tapped her on the shoulder. “Do I know you from somewhere?”

[extra-stout-stories]

First Date / Creepy Cookies

When a BHM in Florida decides to take the plunge on a long-distance relationship with a witchy SSBBW FFA in New England, their first IRL encounter goes even better than he expected. (BHM to USSBHM, magical rapid weight gain, SSBBW feeder. Romantic, but spicy and mildly explicit. Lots of sexy descriptions of food. CW: Immobility, mobility aids.)

My first contribution to Feedist Kinktober '24! Reblog if you like it, and thanks as always to the mighty @fatguarddog for blessing us with an inspirational list of prompts. Last year I bit off more than I could chew and ended up with a folder of half-finished story ideas, so this year I'm only writing the ones where I feel inspired enough to knock a full story out in one go. Here's a sexy supernatural mutual gaining tale.

--

His belly hang bounced against the steering wheel as he stepped with a grunt out of the rental car. A compact car wasn't exactly comfortable for a guy his size, but it was a chance to save a little bit of money on the trip. If this works out it's going to be expensive, he thought to himself. Long distance sucks.

He adjusted his jacket against the October breeze. New England was a lot different from Florida. He wasn't sure how he felt about the possibility of moving to somewhere he'd have to shovel snow in the winters, but he had to admit that at this time of year, the yellows and crimsons of the autumn foliage were beautiful like nothing he had ever seen.

And his date was like nobody he had ever met. It would be their first time meeting in person.

Dating as a 320 pound man was difficult enough, dating as a 320 pound man with a feeding fetish was more difficult still, and dating as a mutual gainer felt like the hardest thing of all. He was grateful that his last serious relationship had ended amicably; she was a Miami Beach gym bunny who loved the way her toned, tan body contrasted with his, and she had helped him break through a plateau at 300, but she grew increasingly frustrated that he couldn't reciprocate her attraction to him. Fortunately, they had managed to part without drama and stay friends, and he was happy to watch her pair off with a guy close to his size who was a much better fit for her. There was a text from her waiting when his plane touched down in Boston: "Good luck on your New England date! If she turns out to be a serial killer, text me and I'll come rescue you, k?"

But he wasn't too worried about that. Mostly he was worried that he wouldn't be as fat in person as his date expected. He was fat, of course, but he was also good at using camera angles to highlight his big belly and doughy double chin, making him look like a bigger SSBHM than he really was. And a part of him worried that the date would go too well. Plane tickets and a rental car weren't cheap, flying at his size was cramped and uncomfortable, and the drive north from Boston added another two and a half hours onto the trip. If things worked out, it wasn't going to be much fun trying to make a long-distance relationship work.

Still, it's worth a try. Nothing worth having in life comes easily. That's what he told himself as he took one last look at the scenery, the golden autumn colors mingling with evergreens this far north, the peak of Mount Washington in the distance already dusted with a layer of snow.

--

The Waterwheel Brewery was an old brick building at the edge of a ravine where a cold, clear waterfall splashed and foamed down a crack in the mountain granite. The rusty iron wheel that gave the brewpub its name was still there at the side of the ravine, a nineteenth century relic from a time when the building had been some kind of textile mill during the early years of America's industrial revolution. But that was a long time ago, and now the small factory town in the mountains was a self-consciously quaint destination catering to hikers, skiiers and leaf-peepers from Boston and New York City. The buildings on its main street had been transformed into upscale shops and farm-to-table restaurants, and the nineteenth century mill owner's stately Victorian mansion had been renovated as an expensive bed and breakfast. He had suggested to her that he book a room there for the night of their first date, but she had vetoed the idea. The Wilkes House is a tourist trap, she had messaged back. If dinner goes well, you'll stay at my place. She was nothing if not forward. He liked that about her.

Nervously, he entered the brewpub.

It was a busy Friday night. Middle-aged yuppies in fleece vests and college-aged hippies in hiking gear were clinking glasses. People really are skinnier up North, he thought to himself. It must be lonely being her size in a town like this. The Florida coast was full of tanned and toned beach bodies, of course, so he understood the struggle. Still, even in Florida, the South had its share of fat folks.

And he wasn't nearly as fat as she was.

Then a little voice in his mind seemed to whisper: Yet.

He shivered, his nervousness suddenly replaced by excitement. Don't get too far ahead of yourself, he thought. This is just a first date. She's cool online but you need to know if you vibe in person before you let her feed you for real. He glanced around the brewpub. When his eyes landed on her, there was no mistaking the woman he had come all this way to meet.

--

She was seated at the corner of the brewpub, on banquette seating behind a movable table. She seemed as wide as the table, fat shoulders in a loose white cardigan seeming to flow like lava into her breasts and belly rolls in a snug red cotton dress. An elegant antique necklace, a chunky Victorian brooch on a thick silver chain, drew his attention irresistably to her cleavage, then to the triple chins that seemed to rest directly on her chest and shoulders, her neck gone entirely, the chain disappearing beneath soft, pale folds. His attention wandered up her face just as she registered his presence and their eyes met. Her eyes seemed to flash with anticipation behind a pair of vintage eyeglass frames whose red matched the dress. Her fat cheeks dimpled as she smiled. Her chins quivered.

She was fatter in person.

--

Dinner went as well as he could have imagined. She was as clever as she was fat, a quick-witted conversationalist with a bright laugh and a keen sense of humor. They had spent so much time messaging back and forth that he already felt like he knew her, but she was even more charming in person. She had an endless supply of funny anecdotes from her job as an instructional librarian at the liberal arts college outside of town, the kind of school where rich kids spent four years as ski bums cultivating their weed habits. It wasn't where she had planned to end up, but her Ph.D. in anthropology from Miskatonic hadn't led to a tenure-track job, and she had grown to love the quiet beauty of the little mountain town.

The brewpub owners were graduates of the college, and the waitstaff all seemed to know her. They weren't fazed when she asked to see the menu for a second round of entrees, and while neither of them wanted to drink too much -- it would be another twenty minutes' drive up windy roads to her mountainside cottage, and besides, it was a first date -- the waitstaff were more than happy to pour small samples of the microbrews that the pub brewed on site. He told a few tall tales about life in Florida, exaggerating for dramatic effect. She knew he didn't really have to fend off wild alligator attacks on his way to work, of course, and she gave him a little coquettish smirk when he admitted: "…and besides, I'm too fat to outrun an alligator anyway."

It was all he could have asked for on a first date.

Still, it was hard to keep his mind from wandering to more primal urges, especially when she shrugged off the cardigan and he got a glimpse of her pillowy upper arms, as wide around as some people's waists, spilling like rolls of dough over her elbows, swaying irresistably every time she raised a fork or a glass to her mouth. Cool it, he told himself, biting his lower lip. This is a date, not a hookup. We're here to get to know each other, not just fuck. But the more he watched her stuff herself with gusto, polishing off a steak followed by a lobster roll and a series of appetizers that just seemed to keep coming, the more he found himself imagining what the mountainous rolls of her naked belly might look like beneath that red dress, how wide and soft her naked hips and ass would be when he wrapped his arms around her and squeezed her fat body against his.

"Distracted? They asked what you wanted for dessert." He blushed, suddenly realizing how far he had lost himself in the reverie. She gave him a wry smirk. "The bread pudding's good here. Get it with caramel."

The waitress looked at her, then at him, and didn't bother to ask him for confirmation. Soon he was tucking into the bread pudding. But by now, he thought to himself, the bill couldn't come soon enough.

--

He felt suddenly protective of her as she stood up from the table, reaching to steady herself on a stainless steel bariatric cane, face slightly flushed and breath slightly ragged from the effort of lifting her enormous body. He helped her slip the cardigan back on, and as he helped her navigate around the tables to the entrance of the brewpub, he found himself putting a hand on the small of her back to guide her, feeling her back rolls ripple with each step. She's really big, he thought to himself. But it wasn't his first time with an SSBBW, and he knew how to pace himself and help her feel comfortable, glancing and gesturing to signal to the other diners that they should pull their chairs in for a moment to clear a path. He caught one or two hostile stares from skinny couples eating salads, but when he glared back -- it helped that he was tall and stocky, muscular underneath his fat -- they looked away in embarrassment.

She smiled up at him as they reached the rental car. She was a few inches shorter than him, and the difference in height put just how fat she was into even sharper relief. "Think you can make it up the mountain?"

He laughed. "As long as you don't ask me to hike. That's what the car is for." He wrapped an arm around her waist and pulled her in close for a kiss, the fabric of his shirt whispering against the fabric of her dress as their bellies touched, a peck on the lips leading to a momentary touching of tongues before she withdrew.

"Good. Make sure you turn right at the covered bridge. Otherwise you'll end up in moose territory. They're even faster than alligators."

"Got it. I'll see you in a little bit." He smiled and lowered himself with a grunt into the rental car. Damn, he thought, exhaling suddenly as his belly hit the steering wheel and he reached down to scoot the seat back a little further. I'm really full.

Only the knowledge of how easy it would be to get lost in these woods on a wrong turn, and the thought that a tourist town like this would be full of speed traps, kept him from rushing even faster than he did up the road to her secluded cottage.

--

She had just gotten out of her own car when he pulled up, steadying herself on the cane as she reached into her purse for her keys. The cottage was picture-postcard cute, wood and stone, built (she had told him at dinner) by some now-forgotten artist who had moved up from Manhattan in the Fifties to get closer to nature. As the door swung open she saw that she'd had it fitted out with energy-efficient modern luxuries and rearranged to make space for her ample body, the open floor plan giving it a feeling that was simultaneously spacious and cozy. Through a wide picture window he could see the lights of the town and the college flickering down in the valley; he thought he could just barely make out the silhouette of the brewpub.

But what really enticed him was the smell of fresh cooking. She must have spent all day baking, he thought to himself. There were savory breads and sugary sweets, pies, cakes and turnovers, all mingling with the aroma of beef stew bubbling in a slow cooker and the scent of cinnamon from an enormous apple crumble.

He watched her enormous ass and thighs quiver as she slowly walked to the kitchen. All of a sudden all he could think about was sex.

She turned back to look at him, the folds of her chins quivering, her cheeks dimpling in that irresistable smile as she winked at him through her vintage glasses. "Hungry?"

He exhaled and patted his belly. It had been a lot of food at dinner.

He looked at her. She looked at him.

He smiled back.

"I could use a little something. That was a long trip up the mountain."

"Good boy." She ladled some beef stew into a dish, then reached to slip on an oven mitt and open the oven. He couldn't keep his eyes off of how her ass and back rolls jiggled as she bent slightly to reach past her belly, her breath quickening with the effort. She drew out a thick loaf of bread and cracked it open. Inside, it was still steaming.

Turning to face him, she locked eyes with him and smiled, setting half the loaf down and reaching for a knife and butter. Slowly, sensually, she buttered the bread. He watched the glistening fresh butter seep into the thick, soft dough. He watched her arms jiggle, her chins quiver, her belly ripple.

She dipped the bread in the beef stew and took a small nibble. "Try dipping it." She grinned and handed him the dish. "Go sit on the couch. I'll bring some desserts, too."

She rolled her own dish of beef stew in on a cart, accompanied by pumpkin pie, apple crumble, and a large tub of ice cream. She sat down next to him and began to eat. By the time they finished, he felt so full he could barely breathe.

Her belly seemed to engulf him as she rolled over to straddle him on the couch, slipping her arms around his shoulders and pinning him down with her bulk. He pulled her closer and slipped his tongue into her mouth. Soon she was unbuttoning his shirt.

--

They were naked by the time they headed to the bedroom. She had been teasing him underneath his belly, giving quick, eager strokes, first with the tips of her fat fingers and then with the tip of her tongue. But he gave as good as he got, his own fingers deftly exploring the sensitive undersides of her rolls, sinking in a fraction of an inch further every time he plunged them into the warmth where her thighs and belly met.

By now he was so motivated by desire that he barely bothered to glance around the living room as she led him to bed. If he noticed the shelves of books, the replica statues of paleolithic goddess figures acquired during her anthropology research, it was only as background decoration.

His eyes passed over it, but he didn't really see the altar. A circle of red candles, designs painted in luminous white on dark black velvet, a small stone figurine, this one not a replica. Fresh fruit and grain placed as an offering. Slices of each of the baked desserts she had made, another offering.

And by now he was so full of dessert that he really couldn't take any more. If his eyes glanced briefly over the plate of cookies at the center of the circle of candles, he would have registered them only as one more item in the blur of sweet tastes and textures, of a piece with the pies and the brownies and the turnover soaked in ice cream. He was so full.

He certainly wouldn't have thought to ask her why the cookies were still steaming as if freshly baked, even though they had been making out for over an hour and he hadn't seen her take them from the oven.

She guided him to her bedroom tenderly, but when she shoved him the last step into bed she was almost rough, her own lust evident now, her face flushed as she took off her glasses and unpinned her hair, long locks falling down past her breasts and the enormous rolls of her belly, moving slowly but deliberately, fat flesh pressing against fat flesh as she curled up next to him in bed and pulled him in for another kiss.

The sex was even better than he had fantasized. Both of them were crackling with lust, burning with desire, as if lightning was passing back forth through their skin everywhere their bodies touched.

There's nothing like the sensation of fat on fat.

--

He was dozing off to sleep, his arm wrapped around her shoulders, when he felt her stand up from the bed. He heard the clunk of her bariatric cane as she left the bedroom. After all the excitement, he was too sleepy to do much more than grunt.

"Still hungry, babe?"

He groaned. At any other time, those words from her lips would have been the most enticing come-on he had ever heard. But the plane flight and the drive had taken a lot out of him, the sex had drained the last of his energy, and he was still full.

"C'mon. Just a few bites." She was back at the bedside, lifting a cookie to his lips.

"Mmmph." The warm, fresh dough. The gooey chocolate. He let her feed him the entire cookie, then another, then another. Barely awake, his eyes closed, his inner eye was already seeing half-formed dream shapes.

"Good boy." She traced her hand across his belly. So full, so achingly full. This was the best night of his life.

"Just one more bite. You have to eat the whole plate." She watched him swallow the last of the cookie, reached across his chest to pinch a few stray crumbs between her fat fingers, stuck her fingers between his lips so he could lick them off.

He leaned his head back onto the pillow and was immediately asleep.

--

His dreams were as much sensations as visions. Sensations of warmth, softness. Heaviness. Candles and torchlight illuminating his body. Eating, eating, always eating. Heavy, so heavy. His belly swelling.

She was there, or was it one of the goddess figurines? Looming over him, lustful and loving. Hungry for him, hungry to feed him. The goddess was vastly bigger than him, impossibly bigger, filling the bedroom, filling a torchlit cave, filling the night sky until her rolls of fat obscured the stars.

But he was big too, so big. And getting bigger.

Gradually the sensations ended. The visions ended. He sunk into a deep, deep sleep with no more dreams.

--

It was a bright New England autumn morning. He could see clear blue sky and a riot of fall colors, the town in the valley below framed perfectly in the picture window of the bedroom.

He was hungry. He didn't want to get up. Surely she had left some food in the bedroom.

Yes. A blueberry pie. Fresh. He was suddenly aware that he was alone in bed. From the kitchen, he could hear the clatter of dishes and the thud of her cane.

He was suddenly seized by the urge to devour the pie with his bare hands. He was hungrier than he ever thought possible. He reached for it, and --

His arm was heavy. So heavy. Just lifting it was an effort. Rolls of fat cascading, heavy as gym weights, his arms never reaching quite so far that the spilling softness of his upper arms didn't still touch the equally soft and heavy rolls of his naked chest and belly.

My belly. He looked down. He could barely see past his moobs, and he couldn't see past his belly at all. He felt it against his --

Against his calves. His belly had become enormous.

He looked down. He reached, or tried to. He was as wide as the bed, his fat arms splayed wide against side rolls that were just an inch or two short of spilling over the sides.

He wriggled his hips, or tried to. He felt hundreds of pounds of fat -- how many pounds? -- quiver in soft ripples.

He didn't even bother trying to stand up.

He felt the rolls of his chins against his chest, the rolls of his chest against his belly, the rolls of his belly against his thighs. He felt his thighs meet to well past his knees.

He even felt his overstuffed fat toes.

And suddenly there was a hardness under all that softness. He gasped sharply, drawing in a deep breath, feeling himself quake with excitement. Feebly, he tried to buck his hips against his belly, full of desire now.

She was standing in the bedroom door, holding a cup of coffee in one hand and a plate of pastries in the other.

"Hungry?"

She grinned at him.

He could barely speak. "W-what happ…"

She wore nothing but a silk robe, open at the waist. Slowly, sashaying her enormous hips to make her massive belly sway from side to side, she waddled towards him and seated herself as best she could at the edge of the bed. She traced her fingertips down his belly.

"Magic. Don't ask too many questions. Do you want the croissants first, or the pie?"

"The pie." At least he had a ready answer to that one.

"Good boy." She began lifting forkfuls of the warm, fresh blueberry pie to his greedy lips. She stroked his hair and gave a mock pout. "I'm not sure you're going to fit on the plane back to Florida."

"Not unless it's a cargo plane." He smiled. "You didn't have to do this, you know. I would have stayed anyway."

Her mock pout deepened. "But it's so fun this way! You should have seen the look on your face when you woke up." She gave his belly a playful shove. "And I had to know you weren't one of those feedee fuckboys. Lots of guys online talk a big game but won't commit."

He lifted an arm as best he could to squeeze her thigh. "Come on. You knew I was serious."

"Mmmhmm." She leaned across him, her belly spreading over his. She was the skinny one now. "But I'm even more serious."

"Is that so?" He polished off the last bite of the pie, then let his voice get a little fierce. "More food. Now."

She blushed and giggled. "Okay, you're serious. That's what I like to see."

"I know it is." He sighed with contentment, wriggled his hips to get a little bit more comfortable, and let her lift the first of many chocolate-stuffed croissants to his lips. "Am I going to stay like this?"

She smiled. "Only if you want to. The spell is reversible." She paused, a smirk on her face. "But I think you want to."

"You're right. How do you know me so well?"

He smiled. Then he pulled her in for a kiss, grunting with the effort, the softness of his upper arm sliding against her naked back rolls.

--

An afternoon of eating. An evening of sex. A day passed. Maybe two or three.

He heard his phone vibrate, somewhere in the pile of clothes that were now much, much too small for him. "Could you pass me that?"

She stood up off the bed and reached down to pick up the phone, moving slowly. Slowly due to her bulk, slowly because she knew his mouth was watering at the sight of her enormous body in motion. She placed the vibrating phone on his belly, then left for the kitchen.

It was a text from his friend in Miami Beach. "You doing okay up there? Should I call the cops?"

He smiled. His fingers were so fat that it took him a minute to correct all the typos, but he texted back. "Even better than I hoped."

A moment later, the reply arrived. "That's great. Anything you need?"

He glanced over his gigantic belly at the stupendously fat woman who stood in the bedroom door, carrying a tray of fresh blueberry pancakes glistening with maple syrup. Through the door he could see into the living room, where an empty plate sat on an altar surrounded by the stubs of red candles. "Yeah. If I Venmo you the money, could you hire some movers to box my stuff up and send it here? I'm planning on staying in New England for a while."

He put the phone down and opened his mouth to take his first bite of the pancakes.

[endless-weightless]

Random nameless ghoul headcanons (SFW and NSFW)

I'm taking the piss with all of these. And remember, kids, this is fanfiction!

I mostly just wrote about the current ghouls but I'm more than happy to write about any past ghouls if you guys want!

TAGS/WARNINGS: mating cycles, CNC, weed mention, primal play, polyamory and orgies,

SFW✄

All of the ghouls have a specific scent but Mountain for some reason can emit any particular scent so long as it's earth related. He usually smells like pine trees and grass but if any of the ghouls are anxious leading up to rituals or just worried in general he'll make himself smell like lavender because he knows how calming it is.

Mountain is also victim to clothing robbery because he smells so nice and is SO DAMN TALL.

They're some of the most open-minded and accepting people you'll ever meet.

Full moons tend to have a weird effect on the ghouls. Not as bad as say a werewolf but they definitely become a bit more... feral. The less extreme effects would just be heightened senses and craving gamey meats more while the worst of the worst would be bordering violent and definitely nsfw (see nsfw for more on this). They'd probably call it a hunter's moon (badum tss).

All of their eyes glow very faintly in the dark.

Their pupils are like a mix of feline and just regular ol' human.

They all have claws but Aurora and Sunshine are the only ones who actually have them out because everyone else needs short nails to play their instruments.

They all purr when they're happy or they're experiencing physical affection, though the volume and intensity varies depending on the ghoul.

Mountain sleeps like a log unless he's sharing a bed, then he's everyone's teddy bear and always has an arm around someone whether he agreed to it or not.

Rain absolutely HATES throwing up.

Swiss and Sodo convinced Mountain to grow marijuana by letting him try some. The ghoul den now constantly smells faintly of weed.

All of the ghouls have their own bedrooms but prefer to cuddle with each other and usually just make a nest out of blankets and pillows in the main common room area and turn it into one giant bed for everyone.

Cirrus and Aether tend to take on an almost parental role in the group just to keep the newer ghouls in line which can be draining at times but rewarding in the end.

They all have black tails and horns that are pretty much identical with the only difference being everyone has a slight tint to theirs depending on their element (Sodo's are red, Rain's are blue, Phantom and Aether's are purple etc).

Their fangs aren't actually too sharp. Could be because they've just become blunter over time with less need to bite actual people.

Most of them straight up act like cats depending on how new they are to the mortal plane. Since Omega’s been on earth the longest, he acts more closely to a human than Phantom, who is fresh out of hell.

Zephyr gets really bad chronic leg pains which is why he's always sitting while performing and so quick to sit back down after finishing the Mummy Dust solo.

Aurora has super painful cramps leading up to her heat so Sodo has taken it upon himself to use his hands as a heating pad for her (which he will do for anyone in need of a heat pack).

NSFW✄

If you had to make a spectrum of all the ghouls from most submissive to most dominant, it'd be Sunshine, Phantom, Rain, Cumulus, Swiss (ultimate power switch), Aurora, Ifrit, Sodo, Mountain, Zephyr, Cirrus, Aether, Alpha and finally Omega.

None of them are strictly doms or subs, they like experimenting and switching things up every once in a while to keep things interesting but they certainly have preferences.

They all enjoy both monogamous and polyamorous sex equally. Sometimes they just want soft intimate sex with one person or they're just craving multiple people.

Full moons don't make everyone horny in an "I need to impregnate someone/be impregnated now" way, they make the ghouls horny in a primal way...

Some of the ghouls that are more affected by the full moon or just enjoy primal play with a bit of CNC will sometimes ask some of the siblings of sin and/or you if you'd all be comfortable with letting them "hunt" you down.

Aether and Cirrus have sleepy and lazy sex when they're tired from dealing with the ghouls and need a break and some relief.

Mountain is always looking down the sisters of sin's and the ghoulette's tops to see their cleavage. In his defence he's pretty fucking tall and can't help that he has to look down to talk to people.

If anyone in the group, including you, are feeling lonely, stressed or just exhausted and in need of some kind of relief, all of the ghouls are more than willing to give head to anyone for hours, making sure they cum at least four times before they let them have a break.

All of them have a marking kink because of their need to mate during heats and ruts.

They all go just a teensy bit feral when they pick up on the scent of a virgin with Swiss being the most dramatic about it.

And if someone doesn't smell like a virgin but instead like ghoul, they still go feral because ghouls like sharing when the moon isn't full.

Aether feels the constant need to slap every ghoul and ghoulettes ass possible, even Sodo.

Aurora, Zephyr and Phantom the most handsy out of the ghouls.

Heats and ruts are already hellish enough, but what makes it worse for the ministry is how only half of the ghouls get their heats and ruts at the same time while the other get it the other half of the time, which basically means twice as many heats and ruts in a month.

＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚

that's all my lovelies, lmk if you want any more!

[artists-ally]

would you write a one-shot about harvey and reader on their honeymoon? like, he rented a villa for them in the mountains and then is snowing for the first time in the season and reader gets excited like lorelai gilmore on winter fjvjkfdfmk

{Scenes from the Cityscape} Reader x Harvey Specter

I feel like honeymoon Harvey would spoil you to no fucking end. Like he might even have someone that secretly follows y’all around and everything you touch he buys for you and then it’s just there when you get back. Anyway here’s my two cents on the matter <3 title from this song that I highly suggest listening to.

Word count: 1,619

Warning: none, very fluffy

~~~~~~

“Will you please just tell me where we’re going?” 

“No.” You could hear the smile. “Just be patient.”

You huffed, pinching the bridge of your nose. You knew you shouldn’t have let Harvey plan the honeymoon. Sure, he let you take care of the whole wedding; everything from the flowers and the cake, to what boxers he wore under his pants. All of it was planned and precise. 

This was most certainly not how you wanted to kick off the next two weeks. The two of you compromised: you plan the wedding, he plans the honeymoon. You got on a plane at six this morning and all you knew was it was freezing outside.

You trusted Harvey enough to not plan something you hated, because then both of you would be miserable. The cold was a good sign. 

And being blindfolded didn’t necessarily make anything better. Especially this rickety bus you guys got on which was wobbling side to side as you drove for about an hour. It seemed to drive on and on and on and then there was a steady pace up and up and up. 

You wanted to take a peek to see where you were heading, but Harvey had his hand in yours so you knew you weren’t getting away with it. 

“Alright, we’re here. Nope, you’re not allowed to take it off yet, don’t even try,” He muttered, taking both of your hands and leading you out of the bus. 

The gravel stones crunched under your boots and the chill of the air stung your nose. You took in a big breath and exhaled. “I smell snow.” “How can you smell snow?” Harvey asked, very obviously annoyed that the surprise was slowly starting to be revealed.

“Because I can,” you shrugged. Your mind began to wonder about where you were. You knew it was out of the country because you needed your passport, but other than that you had not a single clue. Harvey took your boarding pass and wouldn’t let you anywhere near a navigation screen. He somehow even convinced the flight crew to not say anything either. 

“Mr. and Mrs. Spector, welcome! Please, follow me and I will show you to your residence,” you can only assume it was some hotel staff that greeted you. It did warm a place in your heart to hear Mrs. Spector. 

Hardwood floors creaked under your boots as you stepped up with Harvey’s guidance. When you were inside, the warm scent of a fresh fire greeted you, as well as the sound. Harvey told you to just stand there for a moment, and you could hear a muffled conversation in the other room. 

“Okay, are you ready to take off your blindfold?” Harvey asked, pressing up behind you.

“For the love of god yes,” you giggled, letting your hands fall over his when he wrapped them around your waist. His hand came up to the back of your head and tugged the fabric off. 

Through squinting eyes, you looked around the room.

Wood floors, a comfy sofa, and a raging fireplace sat in front of you. The kitchen was off to your left and so was a dining room. You gasped, looking through the kitchen to see a window with huge trees, coated in a small layer of fresh snow. 

“Harvey-”

“We’re in Banff,” was all he said. You made a mad dash around the couch to get to the kitchen, exploring all the hallways of this cabin. 

“Harvey oh my god it’s beautiful.” Banff was a town in Alberta, Canada. With the most gorgeous mountain views of the Rockies, frozen over lakes and historic castles, it has been a bucket list place for you for pretty much your entire life. And you were here. 

You ran up the stairs, ditching Harvey to find a balcony or something to get outside and look. Through the master bedroom at the end of the hallway, there were a double set of doors that overlooked a forest. When you opened them, the bitter wind bit your face in the most refreshing way possible. 

The deck wrapped around, and you followed it to a breathtaking view. 

There, right in front of you, were some of the biggest peaks you had ever seen. Coated with white and jagged cliffs, the treacherous beauty of the mountains welcomed you. And the lake that was frozen over was dazzling with people skating. 

Tears almost formed in your eyes, but they quickly turned to ice in your lashes, clumping them together. It was just so perfect. Most couples enjoy a trip somewhere warm, but not you. You couldn’t stand the sun. This was your place. The one place that didn’t seem to put any pressure on you to do anything but enjoy it’s raw, natural beauty. 

“It’s supposed to snow tomorrow, first of the year,” Harvey said from behind you. When you turned, he had a few snowflakes in his hair, leather gloves out for you to take. “So, you think this place will do for the next two weeks?”

“Harvey… this is just- how did you even pull this off? Banff is impossible to get to at this time of year.” Mid November was prime time for visiting, and prime time for snowfall. And when it snowed in Banff, it was several feet at once. Made for perfect skiing, snowboarding, and tubing experiences. 

“I have my ways,” he smirked. “I just wanted us to be able to enjoy just that. Us. No one around to know who we are, no one around to bother us. It’s peaceful and quiet and secluded for us to do whatever we want.”

You gazed up and around again, “I can’t believe this. I don’t think you have any idea how excited I am, Harvey.”

“I think I have some idea,” he laughed. “I don’t think you have any idea how excited I am to spend this time with my wife.”

You blushed, resting your head on his shoulder. “I can’t wait to spend this time with my husband. Can you promise me something, though?” “Anything, my love,” he kissed your temple, then your forehead when you locked eyes.

“Will you please have a snowball fight with me in the morning and then cook me breakfast while we warm up by the fire?”

Harvey just laughed, hugging you tightly to him. “Yes, I would love to beat you in a snowball fight and then win back your love with pancakes and bacon.”

“What makes you think you’re going to win?”

“What makes you think you’re going to win?”

“Because,” you scoffed. “I am one hundred percent better at making snowballs.” “Which one of us played baseball?” Harvey gave you a cocky look. “I did. I’m gonna win.”

“We’ll see about that,” you pointed at him, heading back inside. “Any other surprises I should know about?” “Of course there are, but they’re surprises, Yn. That’s kind of the point, I’m not supposed to tell you anything. But, one of them is tonight. So we should start getting ready.”

Harvey had packed everything for you, so you had no idea what you actually had to wear. Curse him and his vague-ness. He wouldn’t tell you, no matter how many times you tried. Harvey just ignored you and your poking when he wouldn’t tell you. 

When he went to get dressed, you fixed your hair and did your makeup. Music was floating through the room as you sat at the vanity in the bathroom, Harvey off in the bedroom somewhere. There was a soft knock at the door and he stood there, leaning against it in a new suit you hadn’t seen before. 

It was all black, even the shirt was too. No tie, which was a dangerous look for him. His normally spiky hair was smoothed a little more since he had been growing it out a little. He had on a gold watch and cufflinks to match. 

“This is for you.” Harvey pulled a garment bag over his shoulder and hung it on the back of the door. 

He walked out, and you eyed the bag suspiciously. When you unzipped it, a gold clump of fabric flowed out. It was shiny, made from silk. When you got a good look at it, your jaw dropped to the floor. It had one strap and the fabric carried across your waist to the opposite hip, parting for a slit all the way up. It was almost a corseted top, it had some sort of boning in it to keep the neckline up. 

It was a little difficult to get on with all the folds, but you managed. 

“Harvey, can you come zip it up?” “Of course, my love.” His hands drew up your back, placing a kiss to your shoulder when he was done. “You look stunning, Yn.”

“Where on earth are we going?” You had to ask one last time. 

Harvey grabbed your hand, spinning you around in a circle to get a full look at you. “To a ball.”

“A ball? Seriously?” He just nodded at you, your obvious excitement pouring out of you. “Like, a real ball? With dancing and mingling and looking hot and mysterious?”

“Yes, especially the hot part,” he wiggled his eyebrows. “Are you ready to go?”

You practically running to the door was enough of an answer for him. A limo was parked outside and when the two of you got settled, there was some champagne poured. 

“To us,” Harvey said. “And to my best friend, and the love of my life. I cannot wait to do the rest of our lives with you, Yn. I love you so much.”

“I love you too, Harvey.”

~~~~~

Harvey's suit

Reader's dress

Views of Banff

[clockwork-ashes]

All You Have Is Your Fire - Part XXII.V (Eris Vanserra POV)

Summary: Eris Vanserra spends most of his evenings attending to important business, although he does occasionally believe he deserves a break.

Note: I had to include a small side story within this larger fic, and Eris is one of my favourites!!! This is a short Eris x OC (Cora) one-shot! Next update will be back to regular elucien chapters, so I hope you guys enjoy!!! SMALL WARNING, this will be a little spicy ;) A huge thank you to the lovely @sad-scarred-sassy who deserves all the credit for the post that inspired me to start writing this :)

Tag List: @anishake / @nocasdatsgay / @mybestfriendmademe / @talibunny30 / @halfbutneverwhole / @wishfulimaginings / @goldenmagnolias / @emmers-bens123 / @cauldronblssd / @xirose / @rarephloxes / @thehighlordishere / @the-darkestminds /

Eris tilted his head, wolf like, as his ears caught the gentle sound of keys going into the lock of the room’s door. He frowned, not having heard any footsteps, but even in the dim lighting, he knew it was simply Cora returning to her chambers for the evening. 

Eris sat up from where he had been sprawled across her small bed, leaning his elbow on her pillows, setting down the sketchbook he had idly been flipping through until the Night Court female had returned. 

She was humming a musical tune softly to herself and Eris could not help but find it endearing, especially as she fumbled to strike a match, her eyes not having adjusted to the dark. 

“I forget,” Eris began, smiling involuntarily at her yelp of surprise, “that you can’t light the torches.” He willed the smallest bit of his own magic to do so, shadows falling across the room, highlighting the sharp planes of Cora’s lovely face as she scowled at him. 

Her glare could level mountains, Eris thought, nodding his chin at her in greeting. She crossed her arms, raised a brow in question. “Can’t go an entire day without me?” Her accent was thick with the rhythms of the Hewn City, the vowels short and the consonants striking. 

I can’t. 

Eris would have rather cut out his own tongue than admit such a thing to the wicked creature standing before him. He lifted a shoulder, “I usually get what I want.” 

“You’re spoiled,” she snapped, her ever present bite to the words were without an ounce of patience, although she did not ask him to leave and Eris fought to maintain the uncaring expression on his features. 

“You were with Elain.” He knew that his brother’s mate was worried about the quickly approaching equinox, and while Eris had ensured she remained safe, he was hardly going to concern himself with the disastrous predicament she had gotten herself into when she had told his father that she and Lucien were to be married. 

Eris had been confident that Cora’s response would have been a resounding yes, but she shook her head at him. “I was with your mother,” she corrected. “I was helping her with the floral arrangements for the wedding.” 

Eris could not help but frown. “And she needed you for that?” He would have preferred the Lady of Autumn to stay away from Cora. For selfish reasons, since his mother could be meddlesome, and because he did not entirely trust Elain’s friend. 

Cora locked the door behind her, not looking at him as she placed the keys onto the mantle of the fireplace. “I think she must be lonely.” There was an edge of understanding in the tone she used that suggested perhaps she was familiar with the feeling. 

Probably, but Eris would never admit that the loneliness could be a noose for everyone within his family, its hold tightening around the necks of the Autumn Court as time passed and there was no shift in power. 

Without Lethe and Kai — without Callum — Eris might have been lonely, too. His frown deepened and he tried to shake the thought from his mind, he and his mother were not on the best of terms, not since Lucien had been born, but his chest ached when he considered the isolated life the High Lord’s wife led. 

Eris was not going to spend the rest of his evening talking about his mother to a female he barely knew, so he began to idly stroke the edge of the sketchbook. He flipped between the pages, the paper rough. He hummed in response, to let Cora decide if he was agreeing with her observation or not, and tossed her sketchbook onto the nightstand. He focused on the way she began to take the braid out of her hair, followed the column of her neck with his eyes, the flames of the fireplace making her skin seem smooth as stone. 

“Your drawings are nice,” Eris offered into the silence. Cora had sketched the forest, the library, his hounds — even his bedroom — near perfectly. “You would have made a better artist than a lady’s maid.” She snorted in response, scrunching her nose at his words. “Have you considered switching professions?” He meant it sincerely. From what he had seen, she was quite dreadful at her job, to the point where Eris truly believed she was Elain Archeron’s personal guard. 

Cora was certainly blood thirsty enough for it, a fact Eris quite liked about her. She had her secrets, he was sure, everyone did. He tugged at the little golden hoop on his earlobe as he waited for her to answer.

Cora combed gentle fingers through her hair, considering his question seriously. She frowned in thought, and Eris took a moment to admire the way her full lips turned down into a pout. “I could never be an artist.” 

“Why not?” He might have been more curious if she had not decided to lift her skirts, flashing the skin of her ankle while she slipped off her shoes. It was his attempt at learning more about her, allowing her the chance to speak, since she shared nothing without a bit of prompting. 

You talk so much, and yet you say so little.

Eris had huffed a laugh at her remark, the only thing she had snarled at him as he had escorted her to Elain on their first day in the Autumn Court. He had found Cora startling, when most things at his age were simply to be expected. 

Eris had since learned that he was a raging forest fire in her presence, and she seemed to be the wind breathing more life into the flames. He could hardly look away from her when she was near, his eyes falling onto her when she entered any room. 

He had been half hard at the thought of her lips, at the promise of her kisses, before he had even opened the door to the small space he was now in.

Eris watched as Cora raised her shoulders in a shrug, as she made her way with elegant steps across the carpeted floors and towards the bed. His breath caught in his throat as she sat on the edge of the mattress, he could hear her steady pulse in his ears. 

“They wouldn’t let you, in the Hewn City?” He said softly, remembering she had been responding to another one of his questions with her shrug. 

Cora placed her hand so close to where his rested on the blankets, and he silently urged her to reach out, to let her fingers inch forward ever so slightly. She did not, choosing instead to blow a strand of her dark hair away from her eyes. 

Cora shook her head, “They have more need of musicians.” 

Eris’s mind turned to the solstice balls he had attended in the Night Court, the lilting music that everyone danced to as the evening went on. “So you don’t play an instrument,” he concluded. 

To his surprise, she laughed, the sound echoing in his skull. 

Lovely. 

“I’m very old,” she moved towards him suddenly, their noses nearly touching as she got onto her knees. “I play three.” 

Eris breathed in deeply, the scent of spruce trees and mountain air lingered and he felt drunk, his thoughts slow. “Very impressive,” he murmured, falling onto his back as Cora crawled towards him, her intentions clear. She placed a hand on his shoulder, using him for balance, one leg going over his waist so that she could straddle his lap.

Cora hovered above him, and while Eris had been expecting a kiss, he froze as she raised a hand towards his upturned face. She let scar-flecked fingers trail along the sharp line of his cheekbone, her thumb stopping on his lips. 

They stayed like that for a moment, before Eris broke the heavy silence. “Kiss me,” he ordered, but even to his own ears the words were breathless, the illusion of control. Cora ignored him, choosing to instead unlace the strings at his throat. She traced his jaw gently, and he stilled as she reached for his neck.

“Getting into fights?” She murmured and Eris winced. He had forgotten about the bruises, about the punches thrown between himself and Ronan moments before he had gone looking for her. 

It would have been too much to explain that he and Ronan always argued about the war camps now settled further into Spring’s territory, especially since Cora’s loyalties laid with the High Lord and Lady of Night. 

Eris decided not to answer, pulling her down so that he could nip at the skin between her neck and shoulder. His hand grappled for purchase in the fabric of her skirts, pulling them up so they could pool closer to her knees. He let his palm travel up the smooth curve of her calf, kissed her neck as he brushed his canines against her pulse. Eris paused at the knife strapped to the inside of her thigh, pulling away to raise an auburn brow at her. 

Cora blushed, her brown cheeks darkening a shade at the desire she must have spotted in his amber eyes. “For later,” she said, a mischievous smile gracing her stunning features. He felt himself further harden at the thought, pants straining as he wondered how she might put her blade to use. He would let her draw blood if she wished.

“Planning my murder?” Eris asked as Cora made herself comfortable, knees on either side of him. She pulled up her skirts further and his eyes tracked the movement, his hands followed along, touching every inch of skin she revealed. She was teasing, fully aware of the effect she had on him. 

Cora hummed, the sound making him shiver. “I do love treason.” 

Eris breathed a small laugh, a dreadful mistake on his part. The scent of her arousal lingered around them and he found himself growing tired of her games. He needed to taste her, had been thinking about it all day. 

Tightening his grip on the back of her thighs, Eris pulled Cora forward, perhaps more roughly than he intended. 

She threw out her hands, catching herself on the headboard, looking down at him with disdain. He had forgotten for a moment how small she was. Her dark hair fell around them, it was long, so long, as though she had not cut it in centuries. “Was that necessary?” 

Eris grinned up at her from his place splayed out along her pillows. “Sit.” 

Cora glared at him, as though she simply would have left him there, to annoy him as much as to prove that her will was stronger than his own. 

If it had been anyone else, Eris might have gotten up and left, to make a point that he did as he pleased and the faeries he dragged to his bed were merely a nice little distraction. 

He was, after all, a prince. 

Instead, he ran his hands up her thighs, feather light, before he repeated himself. “Sit.” 

And Cora did. 

Eris was used to the males and females of Autumn, vicious in court but shy when it came to their own pleasure. He knew it was because they were afraid, wisely so considering the reputation Eris had built for himself. He would thoroughly seduce them, bring them back to his chambers, and watch as they trembled, unsure, hands at their sides. 

It had been fun at first, but Eris was dreadfully bored, and Cora was interesting. She knew exactly what to do with her hands, dragging curses and moans from Eris’s lips with nothing but a simple twist of her wrist. She was also absolutely gorgeous, her dark eyes haunting him so he could not have a moment’s peace. 

He breathed in deeply, leaving a trail of kisses up the inside of her thigh. The dagger was still there, the metal cool against his cheek, and he licked just above the hilt with a long swipe of his tongue.

When his mouth brushed over the spot he knew would bring her the most pleasure, he paused, waiting for her permission. She shifted impatiently above him, and although she could not see him through the curtain of her skirts, Eris smiled. 

He pressed the flat of his tongue against her, and he felt as her nails scratched at the skin of his scalp, as her fingers tangled into the auburn strands of his hair and she kept him in place. Eris decided he would have gladly spent the rest of his life between her thighs, he groaned at the taste, pressed her more fully to his mouth, tongue moving. 

The one hand keeping her balanced, Eris spread her thighs further apart, inviting her to move if it would please her. His booted feet drew restlessly against the fur blankets, he wanted her to come on his mouth. 

He wanted her. 

Eris knew Cora was close as she clenched her thighs around him. He kept his hands on her, felt her muscles tense and he made a soft sound as she pulled away entirely. 

There were skirts in his mouth, he realised, just as Cora’s knee roughly knocked into the side of his head, a short burst of pain shooting into his temple. She kicked him in the gut in her effort to move away and Eris grunted at the contact of her foot against him. 

“The torches,” she breathed, her voice a whispered hiss. 

Eris barely understood what she was saying, his mind a mess, desire making it hard for him to think straight. She was adjusting her skirts, fixing her sleeves.  

“What about them?” Eris asked, eyes tracking her movements as he sat up. He licked his lips, fighting the urge to moan as he tasted her on his tongue. 

“They did something strange,” she was content to ignore the burning gaze he cast on her, looking instead towards the doors and paying attention to the flames flickering rather normally on the other side of the small room. 

“The fire reacts to me,” he said, a snarl entering his tone as he placed a broad hand on her small waist and pulled her towards him. His chest was rising and falling like he had been drowning and was drawing his first breath of air. “It reacts to me, reacting to you.” 

She rolled her eyes, as though she did not believe a single word he said. She ran a cool finger under the fabric of his collar. “I worry someone might see us.” 

“Don’t,” Eris mumbled as she deliberately began to undo the buttons of his waistcoat. She did so expertly, dragging it from his shoulders where it fell onto the mattress in a careless heap. 

Through the lighter fabric of his shirt, Eris felt as Cora’s hand lingered on his back. Her nails caught on the raised skin there. 

Lashes. 

He had whispered the word to Cora when she had paused at the feel of them the first night he had gotten her into his bed. She had pulled away just enough to hold his gaze, had searched his face for answers but was met with the expressionless mask he had long ago mastered. 

Punishments.

Cora had correctly guessed, he had witnessed the shift in her demeanour at the realisation, although she had said nothing. The lovers he took were usually Autumn born and raised, were usually well aware of the way the High Lord treated each of his sons. Still, Eris had felt as though Cora had become a bit more gentle, that she had held him like he was a piece of glass, easily breakable. 

“Eris,” she said softly, pulling him from his thoughts as she placed a kiss just below his jaw only to tug the shirt from where he had carefully tucked it. Her fingers traced the muscles of his stomach as he cupped the back of her head to keep her close. When she reached the laces at his pants, undoing them swiftly, he felt his lips part as she touched him. 

He wished she would say his name again, but he did not complain as she kissed him deeply, their tongues fighting for dominance as she wrapped delicate fingers around his length. His hands once again went under her skirts, fingers searching when he heard his best friend’s voice in the corridor. 

“Lady Elain Archeron,” Lethe said loudly, the name echoing with a hint of magic. It was his request for her to keep watch, but Eris instantly regretted it. 

Cora pushed herself away from him once more and Eris snarled his annoyance, wishing his little brother’s mate had retired for the evening. 

“I told you the torches had done something strange,” Cora accused, tossing his waistcoat for him to catch. She stumbled on the edge of the carpet as she rushed to put on her shoes, cursing him under her breath.

Eris ran fingers through his hair to ensure that no strand was out of place, adjusting his clothes to perfection and using his magic to scatter the scent of their still burning arousal. 

“Find me when she leaves,” Eris offered, hoping Cora would join him later. He would have hated to use his hand to find pleasure after their encounter. He unlocked the door, pausing with his fingers gripping the handle. Cora shuffled behind him, skirts ruffling, and he waited with bated breath for her response. 

Cora walked towards him quickly, each action rushed so she could throw him out of her room before Elain arrived to knock on the door. She reached out, no hesitation in the gesture as she grabbed onto his arm. Eris watched as she got onto the very tips of her toes, following her lead when she pulled down on his sleeve. He had to bend at the waist, practically bowing for her, so that she could place the softest of kisses onto his cheek. “I make no promises,” she murmured, letting her fingers trail down towards his wrist, her thumb stroking the skin there absently before she moved away from him with a playful shove in the direction of the hallway. 

Eris felt his entire face heat, and he bit the inside of his lip, frustrated with his uncommon lack of self control. He hoped Cora could not see the scarlet blush he was sure would reveal his slight attachment to her. 

Eris could hardly remember the last time someone had been so gentle with him, could hardly remember needing anyone’s affection. He said nothing, was unable to face her, so he merely schooled his features into a serious mask. 

Eris opened the oak door roughly and stepped past the stone archway, mind whirling with thoughts of Cora, only to crash bodily into Elain Archeron.

[imaginethezeldaverse]

The Desert's Moon (Ganondorf x Reader) (NSFW)

Welcome, welcome to the 100 follower fic I set all those polls for! You all chose and waited so patiently, so please allow me to give you the winner: a good fic with our big bad guy, Ganondorf (Tears of the Kingdom version). This will be nsfw, and just to be safe, be wary of any spoilers below the cut, okay? For this fic I'm running with an idea that was dropped in my inbox - initially I had planned to make it a simple headcanon post, but since he won, I'm writing it as a full blown fic instead. Thank you all for voting, it sincerely means a lot, I cannot believe even more of you have followed me since then. The comments and appreciation from you all truly makes my day. 🥹 As for the theme: you are inexperienced (we'll even say virginal) and Ganondorf here is going to be your first. Let's explore that together, shall we? Reader is gender neutral for all to enjoy. I sniped some fictional Gerudo language from here because I mean Ganondorf is a Gerudo man...he definitely should be able to speak the language.

Ganondorf is intimidating, this much is true. His demeanor exudes power in all things he does: fight, lead, and even fuck. He's had many a partner, his skills as a lover growing with each encounter of his past. He is not unfamiliar with experienced partners - and he will show you the patience and slowness you deserve.

The key is for you to be honest with him. Should you try to front as though you are experienced in sex, just know that he can see right through you. Ganondorf's read on body language is exceptional - so the slight shake in your body or the quiver in your voice is an immediate alert to him that you aren't what you're trying to portray yourself as. To your benefit however, he'll most likely find this cute. You attempting to be brave and take him head on is adorable, even though you have no idea what you'd be getting into (or really what would be getting into you). Being upfront however is not without its loss - you'd gain his respect and potentially a chance to call him an equal, he likes the idea of a long-term partner who can be honest with themselves as well as him.

For a man of his size and status, he's quite gentle. He offers to hold you first in your nudity, get you used to feeling his body against yours. Ganondorf will most likely seat you in his lap, with your legs splayed open over the length of his hips and thighs. Should you shy away or find yourself embarrassed by the less than polite way you're sat on him, he'll simply chuckle, reiterating that this is to acclimate you. His hands will find a place on your thighs, unmoving, but present. "Touch me anywhere you'd like," he offers, the rich amber of his eyes meeting your own. Setting the pace in your favor will help ease some of your apprehension. Your hands explore the planes of his body: his adept, powerful hands; the sizable, muscular curvatures of his forearms and biceps; over the thickened bands of his shoulders and down to the broad expanse of his chest. He's a mountainous man in size and that alone has you a tiny bit afraid, but you also can't deny that being able to trace your fingertips over the patterned tattoos that stretch across his muscles doesn't elate you.

When your hands finally cup the wide angles of his jaw, you find the pluck to once more lock eyes with the Gerudo chief. There's something unreadable swimming in them: whether it's tenderness or restraint you aren't wholly sure. His arm wraps around your lower back, bring you ever closer to him in a swift push. Your hands remain on his face, lips inching closer. Ganondorf doesn't kiss you. No, he wants you to be the one to take the honor of taking the first step. The world talks of his lust and greed for power, and make no mistake, the rumors are very much true. But this - intimacy with you - Ganondorf knows better than to rush. Taking you by force serves him little, and there is humanity in him still that bars him from wanting any harm to come to you. To feel your body yearn for him willingly only makes that much sweeter. Your breaths mingle momentarily, your heart pounding in your chest until you finally take the plunge and seal the gap. You're chaste in your kiss, timidity holding your tongue. No matter, the sensation of his thick digits roaming over the curve of your ass has you gasping enough against his mouth for him to coax you into a deeper kiss. Unbeknownst to you, your head tilts naturally, angling so that you can continue the kiss comfortably. You let go of his face, your fingers sliding into his long vermillion locks. There's a sound vibrating at the back of his throat that hits your ears so pleasantly - the simple soothing sensation of your hands in his hair delights him, so naturally he wants you to know it. The kiss builds heat, your body slowly beginning to want his hands to move beyond your backside. You lean into him, pressing your chest to his and linking your arms around his neck. The smile that curls his lips upward is something you can feel, and you almost smile back - but his hands that have now occupied a space on your hips are dragging your body over his lap. Ganondorf parts from your mouth, watching you bite your lip as he slowly grinds you over what you realize is his length beginning to grow rigid beneath you. Breaths slowly starting to come in shudders you snap your eyes shut, focusing on how his length slides teasingly over where you biologically know he's going to be soon enough.

"Do you feel me?" he purrs, dark tiger eyes trained on your flushed features, "Do you feel my want for you? My desire?" Your thighs are seeking one another to lock this feeling between them, but his hulking mass keeps them widely separated - your center at the mercy of his ministrations. Seeking purchase, your nails dig into his shoulders, earning a pleased rumble from the man. His lips find the hollow of your throat, easing pointed kisses and gentle bites to your sensitive flesh. Soft moans sound angelic to Ganondorf's ears; with ease he lifts you into his arms, your legs still very much wrapped as best as possible around his torso. Smooth, crimson silks caress your back as you're laid across the stretch of his bed. He doesn't stop kissing your body, only proceeds to move down it. Your collarbone, your nipples, the softness of your stomach: all places his lips tease and touch. He drinks your whines and whimpers in as though starving, an innate need to hear your voice call out to him ever growing. Still, he keeps slow. Rough finger pads glide down your body, stroking and fondling a pathway until he settles on his knees, with your legs splayed open by the sheer width of him. Those kisses that traveled now dot their way from your knee and inward. Your breath hitches, you know where he's going...you desperately want him there. As he reaches closer and closer, you shudder out, "P-Please...Gan..." Those initially amber slits, now ochre with hunger, slide up to see your face. Your cheeks are stained with reddish hues with your chest rising and falling faster than before.

"Is there something you need?" the timbre in his voice makes somewhere your stomach clench. How is it just his voice makes you feel this way? What kind of spell has he cast on you? Though your mind tries to wrack itself with answers, it always circles back to the lips that are nipping at your inner thighs. He places a kiss just close enough for you to feel his breath over your sex and you swallow thick with the gasp that tries to free itself.

"Your...mouth..." says you in a shaky whine, "Please..."

Like satin and fire, his chuckle is both suave but with the promise of something vile. A strong grip parts your legs further, holding you wide open. You try desperately not to look at how he drinks your nudeness in, fearing that you seeing the sheer lust flashing across his strong features will have you curl into yourself.

His mouth descends.

You gasp sharply.

Hot and wet is his tongue against your opening, circling your responsive flesh, his eyes never leaving your face. Ganondorf watches on as his silver tongue devours you, each lap and suck at you surging pleasure through your limbs. With one last scoop at your hole, he drew back. There was a question at your lips when you felt him retreat, but before you could even get a word out, you felt his finger carefully slide into you.

"A-Ah!" you mewled, then hissed. Given the size of him overall, even his fingers were substantial in filling you somewhat.

"Shhhhh," Ganondorf hushed your seizing frame. A hand came to your thigh, his thumb stroking in soothing circles the same time his opposite finger exited you, "Relax, my va'ina, you'll need to be much more open if you plan to take me." Your body shudders as you breathe, willing yourself to relax yourself in his ministrations. Having already gave you some slickness there, his finger meets less resistance than normal. His eyes roam your figure slowly, watching all of the small shivers and shakes that begin to build as his digit steadily works in and out of you. A spark of want pulses up your hips, with each coax of his finger you felt tiny rivulets of desire multiply inside you.

"Ganondorf..." came your gentle plea. This feeling was slowly starting to feel inadequate, your hips moving ever so slightly to try and chase the sensation of fullness. Chuckling at your urgency, the Gerudo chieftain withdraws his finger - adding another and sliding back into you. Eyelashes aflutter, you mewl at the sensation of being filled once more.

"There we are," he mused, smirking at the way you're snatching your bottom lip between your teeth. Gradually his fingers stretched you open, separating minutely as he fed your body each stroke. As soon as you had acclimated, you found yourself once again needing more. His hand, though making you feel good, was simply proving not to be enough. Ganondorf recognizes this as your features scrunch with some frustration. You need him, don't you? You need more than just two measly fingers to give you the passion that you seek.

"Your body seeks more than my current attentions I see," he says matter-of-factly, withdrawing his now very wet digits.

You turn your head away to blush, being read like an open book made your body burn with some embarrassment. Yet Ganondorf understood. He lifts your leg by your calf, pressing a kiss into the muscle there. "No worry, I'll give you everything you seek." He sits upright now, towering over your supine frame, a hand at each of your knees. You know what comes next, and though you tremble under him, there's a fire in those eyes of his that keeps you brave. Fingers descend upon his. He catches your gaze, doe-like and nervous, but no sign of withdrawal within them.

"You'll go slow, won't you?" you ask him, your heart mere seconds away from jumping out of your chest. There's an expectation for him to laugh at such an innocent, if not naïve question - but he surprises you when his hand takes your chin between two large fingers and keeps your eyes to his. Softness unlike you've ever seen in him stares back at you. "I wouldn't dream of bringing you harm, va'ina, you're safe with me." His words bring you comfort, allowing you shut your eyes in readied bliss. To reflect this, you spread your legs further apart, "Then I am yours, Ganondorf."

His lips find yours, hungry in its kiss. As his tongue melds against yours, he slips a hand down to grasp himself. You feel the slight shift of his body on yours, strong thighs flush to the backs of yours. He parts from the kiss, though his face remains close, "Ready?" Unable to trust your voice, you simply nod. His muscular frame surrounds your body, encasing you in his warmth. With your hands braced on his shoulders, you inhale sharply when he presses into you. Considerable length and girth stretch you far more than his fingers could even attempt. He's slow, methodical in his pace. So much so that he stops, just past the head of him, the second you tense in his arms.

"Breathe..." coaches Ganondorf, his voice showing the tiniest hint of strain. Though shaky, you try to follow his advice, and it calms your body enough for him to advance. Your mouth drops open from the pressure, hands gripping his shoulders for purchase as another inch fills you. The man above pecks loving kisses to your face as he sneaks a hand downward. He revels in the pleased gasp you let out when his fingers stroke your sex, "That's it...open up for me..." With him steadily plunging into your depths and the deliberate tease of his hand at your most sensitive area, you recognize that same spark from earlier.

Want. Need.

He slides in further still, about at halfway down the whole of him now. His hand doesn't relent on your flesh, easing over you with the intent to build the ecstasy he knows you're absentmindedly chasing. Ganondorf has every intention to bring you to rapture, but again - at your pace. There's a tremor in your thighs that shakes against his hips, he gives you more of him; but the noise you let out this time is a moan muffled only by the barrier of your bitten lip. He grins at this, supply your body with just a bit more. No reaction this time - you were getting used to him. His fingers stroke you for a few more counts, this being just enough for you to take him all the way to the hilt. You keen slightly, so impossibly full and almost dizzy from how overwhelmingly large he feels inside of you.

"Stay with me, love" he whispers, his opposite thumb stroking your cheek. The deep octave of his voice and the tender caress soothe you enough to lean into his touch. Ganondorf captures your lips once more, this kiss slower than the last. His hips remain still though his tongue ravages your mouth, and it pulls a licentious moan from you; the knowledge of him locked deep inside you as he kisses you so fervently has you yearning for what you know you want most. His mouth moves into your neck, and without hesitation your fingers bury into his fiery mane. There's a slight withdrawal of his hips, and you welcome the feeling now, the minor shift of friction feeding into a feeling at the most basic level of your instincts.

"More," your quivered voice speaks in his ear, "P-Please."

He's touched at your politeness, though it's unnecessary. You are a being to be worshipped in this regard, though you didn't realize it, you would never need to beg from him. Touching his forehead to your own, Ganondorf rumbles deep in his chest, pulling almost all of the way out of you before sliding all the way back in. "Nnngh, yes..." Ah, all he needed to hear. Adept hands place themselves at two points: a fist near your head for steadying, and a hand bracing underneath your back to keep you there. Leisurely, shallow thrusts easily evolved into deep, harder strokes. Your body would transform - blossom from tightly wound and tense to fully open and wanting.

The Gerudo male knows you're fully spellbound by your lovemaking when your nails begin to bite into the muscle of his shoulder blades - a most welcome pinch of pain. He's fully working you into you now, his hips immovable pistons to fuck you fully now. Your sweet and soft moans were climbing in crescendo, his name tumbling in slurred syllables off your honey covered tongue. Unable to stop himself now, Ganondorf growled into the junction of your neck and shoulder, pulling your body as flush to him as he could.

"Ah, ohh, mmf! Ahhhh G-Gan," you whined, clinging to him, "My body's on fire...I nghh I...!"

He feels you tightening around him, his pants are harsh as they dampen your skin, "Let it happen...let me have all of you." With only a few strokes of him you fall apart in a scream, your body winding up impossibly tight and then loosening entirely. The orgasmic pulse of your slickness around him milks him with an ungodly grip. He fucks you as fast as your body will allow, a few resounding claps against your flesh combining with the cries of your slight overstimulation that finally bring him to his own end. His strong fingers dig into you as he cums, hot and fast, in a wildly indecent roar. Your hands hold him in his place on your body, welcoming every drop of the licentious liquid that he spills inside of you. His hips begin to slow, still sliding in and out of your now sopping hole, and though you were already long finished, you moan at the sensation of his cock pulsing and feeding your body even now.

When he finally can take no more, he pulls from you entirely in a rough grunt. You feel the weeping of his seed from your entrance, but you are far too exhausted to care. Your body hums in pleasured bliss, but your limbs, so worn from a use you'd yet to experience until today, feel akin to lead. Never an issue, however, as Ganondorf carefully maneuvers you both so you can rest comfortably: with you at his side. His fingers traced the curves and lines of your body in silence, your hand and head rest at his chest.

"Gan...?" your voice barely above a whisper.

His eyes lazily move to you. Your heart flutters with candid bravery, "...I love you."

He smiles at this. Fitting words for a connection as deep as this. His hand covers your head, pressing you closer to his chest in a protective maneuver. Ganondorf is anything but vulnerable...but even a man as mighty as he isn't incapable of feeling.

"You have my heart, va'ina. You are mine as I am yours."

You hum contentedly, happy to fall asleep in the arms of the man who loved you.

[cjlouwho]

Fic authors self rec! When you get this, reply with your favorite five fics that you've written, then pass on to at least five other writers! Spread the self-love. 💕

Oh I love a self promo:

Tommy Begins: When Tommy and Buck's plane is shot down, what was supposed to be a romantic weekend away turns into a fight for survival. You would think being stuck on a mountain with radios down, harsh weather conditions, and severe injuries would be the worst of their problems. But, sometimes memories from your past are what hurt you the most.

The Ultimate Treasure Hunt: When the opportunity to go on another treasure hunt comes up for the 118, they all join together for the adventure. However, this hunt may be life changing for a certain member of the team.

Husbands: Getting hit on was fun. Getting people's numbers was fun. But, there was something else that was even funner now. He'd been able to do it for exactly three months, to the day. Not that he wasn't flashing his ring beforehand, but something about being married sounded even better than being engaged.

“Sorry, guys,” Buck said, smiling as he lifted his left hand into view, “Im flattered, but I'm married.”

As some disappointed, and some still interested, looks broke out over the group, a familiar voice sounded behind Buck. “Damn, I was just about to shoot my shot.”

What It's For: Thomas Kinard is eighteen years old and he just graduated basic training. He's standing among nearly two hundred other graduates, all filled with some form of anxiety and excitement. They're all standing at attention, although Tommy knows everyone's eyes are searching the audience. They've all been given their orders.They stand at attention until a family member or loved one comes and taps them out. Only then can they be at ease.

...He shouldn't have expected anyone to show up anyway.

Meeting the Parents: This is actually a 4 part series so oops! But I really enjoyed writing about Tommy meeting the Buckley's, and Buck meeting the Kinard's.

[seekforwarmth]

hello and welcome to the first fic rec of 2024 featuring my favourite works from what i’ve read during the past weeks. as always, please check tags before reading. if you liked the fics please reblog their posts, leave kudos and write a nice comment. happy reading! rec tag | more rec lists

— harry/louis —  

໑ Red Wine/Long Nights by lucky28 (G, 1.3k, strangers to lovers, infidelity, fluff) When Louis goes to surprise his boyfriend with an unexpected dinner date, he's nothing but excited. That is, until he runs into his boyfriend's boyfriend along the way.

໑ Abundance by @rockstarlwt28 (M, 1.7k, established relationship, breastfeeding, failure of conception, fluff) The Tomlinson-Styles' family are blessed with their own Christmas miracle, Tallulah Jay. A lifetime of happiness follows her birth, her mother, Louis and father, Harry are instilled with hope and an abundance of love to double their already blossoming marriage.

໑ make my wish come true by localopa / @voulezloux (NR, 2.4k, friends to lovers, flat mates, christmas, angst with happy ending) the one where all harry wants for christmas is lou

໑ heaven in these sheets by @thepolourryexpress (E, 3.5k, established relationship, bunny hybrid louis, pwp, fluff) Bunny Hybrid Louis has it out for his boyfriend’s phone.

໑ powerless (and i don't care) by localopa / @voulezloux (E, 4k, established relationship, canon, fluff, slight angst) everyone on tour calls each other daddy, don’t ask why. and louis is so used to calling everyone “daddy” that, when he finally comes home, naturally he calls harry that.

໑ now you hang from my lips by teenytinytomlinson / @hs3lt2 (E, 6k, red herring, implied cheating, read tags and author’s note) Louis goes out and finds exactly what, or rather who, he’s looking for at the hotel bar.

໑ You're like a Sponge (Abrasive and Colorful) by LadyLondonderry / @londonfoginacup (T, 6.5k, coworkers, university au, hate to love sort of) Louis's flirts look an awful lot like insults.

໑ Behind Smoke Stained Curtains by @jaerie (E, 19k, strangers to lovers, a/b/o au, truckers, secret identity, one night stands) The worlds align when Louis meets an alpha from the road with as many secrets as he holds himself.

໑ i feel like this is the beginning, though I've loved you for a million years by puppyvirvinloui (spanish, NR, 22.8k, established relationship, marriage, sunshine/grumpy, trophy wife louis, pregnancy) Louis quiere un bebé, no está muy seguro de que Harry quiera lo mismo.

໑ sunshine (you temptress) by @petitommo (E, 26.8k, acquaintances, complicated relationships, age difference) Harry had everything he'd ever wanted in life. Well established, in love, and on the very precipice of the rest of his life, everything goes wrong. The road forwards is paved with difficult emotions, firm denial, and a complicated relationship to the strange teenager he'd snorted coke off of that one eventful night at the club.

໑ the mountain between us by happilylarry (NR, 31k, strangers to lovers, plane crash, surgeon harry, photographer louis, injuries, angst) Harry is a surgeon and stranded at Salt Lake City International Airport. He is to perform a surgery in fourteen hours in Boston. Louis is a journalist and stranded at Salt Lake City International Airport. He is to be married in ten hours. They decide to charter a private airplane to Denver, where they will get on their respective flights and part ways.

Or so they thought.

໑ You Ain’t Gotta Feel Fear Just Mingle by LadyLondonderry / @londonfoginacup (T, 32.7k, co-workers, advent fic, library au, christmas, fluff, humour) Harry has been at his dream job for less than three months, and he knows two things for sure; first, his project manager doesn't know what he's doing, and second, someone in the office is apparently pure evil, and no one will tell Harry who it is.

Oh, and the guy who works in conservation at the other end of the building is the most beautiful man Harry's ever seen, even when wielding a hot iron as a weapon.

Happy Christmas, here's to many more.

໑ I Really Like Your Styles: The Baking Advent-ure by @homosociallyyours (T, 34k, strangers to lovers, advent fic, coffee shop au, barista louis, baker harry, food, american au) Louis isn't much for frills, and the coffee shop he co-owns with his best friend Liam is evidence of that. Yes, it's got a decent sized, well-kept industrial kitchen, but Louis insists that people come to coffee shops for coffee, not mediocre pastry and plastic wrapped cookies. When Liam's campaign for serving treats turns into watching a few baking accounts on whichever popular app he's on, there's one that really gets on Louis' nerves: "I Like Your Styles." With his chipper demeanor and over the top descriptions of the food he makes, Louis is sure that the (unfortunately cute) baker is full of it. Nothing that adorable could possibly be worth the hype.

It doesn't actually take much for him to eat his words…and some quality baked goods, while he's at it.

— rare pairs —

໑ for the rest of my life (for the rest of yours) by localopa / @voulezloux (louis/zayn, M, 1.5k, exes with benefits, canon au, song fic) zayn and louis are exes. they still sleep together.

[clementine-thedestroyer]

Aroura Borealis - König x reader - Part 1

Series master post- Read on Ao3

This is a multichapter fic so just to clarify, not all of these tags apply to this chapter (in fact, almost none of them do) but I do want to give people a heads up of what they're getting into, especially because this is a lot darker than my usual writing.

Part 1, part 2, part 3, part 4, part 5, part 6, part 7

Warnings/Tags: Fem!reader, eldritch!König, kidnapping, manipulation, gaslighting, violence, minor character death, end of the world, apocalypse/post-apocalypse, potential dub/non con. Dead dove, do not eat. It may not seem like it now but you've been warned. Based on/inspired by the Lemon Demon song by the same name. Alt summery: your boyfriend turns out to be an immortal being beyond your possible comprehension, but all he really cares about is making sure you're safe through the end of the world. /j but not really.

“Let’s take a month-long impromptu vacation we can’t afford to the Canadian Northern Territories.” Your boyfriend said.

“It’ll be fun,” He said.

You shouldn’t have agreed to this. You should’ve raised more questions at König’s sudden insistence to take a holiday.

But no, you’d let him bring you out here. You’d let him pack way too much for this trip. You’d let him convince you that he had the money for it. You’d let him take you somewhere so remote that you had to fly in to the closest “town” (town being a strong word for the small collection of buildings he’d shown you on google maps) on a bush plane, just to get some guy König knew from the military who knew the area to drive you up to the place you’d be staying. You let him do all of it. You’d pushed past your unease and just tried to enjoy yourself for once. And for a brief moment, everything had been fine. König had been right, you were just being weird about it.

The area was beautiful. The town was the only civilization for miles, and it was situated on the northern bank of a large, frozen river and surrounded from all other directions by boreal forest and rising mountains. 

The buildings were a charming hodgepodge of styles, sizes, and colors. The rural, unplanned community was so different from the cookie cutter suburbs and high density urban areas you were used to.

The ground was covered in dense layers of snow- packed down into makeshift trails where people would walk from building to building or towards the tree line. The wind whipped across the flat, icy plane of the river, gathering speed and picking up tiny bits of snow and ice so when it hit your skin, it felt like a thousand tiny pinpricks all at once. 

The people you met were lovely too. There was a small general goods type store towards the center of the town that König had directed you to go wait and warm up in while he talked to the guy he’d known from up here, and the elderly couple who ran it were sweet as could be. You’d bought a few basics for dinner and a cheesy little souvenir keychain from them. Not necessarily because you needed it, but because the couple who ran the store were as sweet as could be.

You chatted with the woman as she rang up your items, telling her about how König had decided to bring the two of you up here and listening when she tells you how during the summer, the cabins on the mountain side are rented out regularly for vacations, but that she’d never seen the owner rent one out during the offseason.

“Strange young man, that one.” She mutters, shaking her head and looking out the window at the man talking with König before turning back to the small register and punching in the code for a can of chili. “He’s lived up here for god knows how long and I hardly see him. Never heard him say more than a few words or take off that mask and sunglasses either.”

You frown, watching the König and the man talk outside for a moment. 

It wasn’t snowing at the moment- although the locals had assured you that you’d probably be sick of the snow by the time you left- and König and the other man stood stiffly facing each other. König had his hands stuffed deep in his pockets and wore a tense expression towards the other that didn’t quite fit the narrative of “old military friend” he’d given you. The other guy seemed much less on edge- as he was leaning against the side of the bed of what you assumed to be his truck with his arms crossed loosely over his chest. He was shorter than König and wore a fabric face mask, hat, and reflective sunglasses like the ones you’d see at outdoor stores like REI or Bass Pro Shop.

König was wearing a face covering of sorts too- as was typical for him. You knew that, on the field, he almost always wore a sniper hood (he liked to keep his work separate from you- he tried not to let you see him in full gear or anything of the sort, but as far as you were concerned, the “sniper hood” looked like an old T-shirt with eye holes). But in public, it was usually just a disposable face mask. The cold had given him an excuse to switch it up a bit though, and he’d taken to wearing a hat and scarf- with one of the scarve’s loops done loose enough that it could be lifted up and over his nose and ears to cover the bottom of his face.

The two painted a stark contrast, with König wearing carefully chosen sets of layers under his windbreaker and snow pants and looking like someone properly dressed for the weather, with the other man wearing a dark leather bomber style jacket over what looked like no more than a sweater underneath.

It reminded you a bit of when you’d see how people from warmer places would dress for the cold as opposed to people from those areas- and you’d never admit it to König, but you did find it a bit funny.

König’s friends have always been a bit odd. The face covering isn't the most out of place thing you’ve seen among them. König, himself in fact, could probably be considered a bit odd. You’ve always just chalked it up to his military career.

Once the woman had rang up your things, you bid her farewell with a smile and promised to stop by again before you headed back home.

König had made quite a fuss about your purchases when you came back out, asking why you took so long and insisting that the cabin would already have everything you needed in it, and that there was no need for “backup canned chili”, as he called it.

He had seemed nearly glued to your side that day, always keeping you close by with a protective hand somewhere on you or directing you exactly where to wait for him as he sorted out issues. Hence, you being told to wait inside the store.

After finishing with his lecture on the backup chili, König sighed and took your hand, telling you to come meet the friend he’d told you about.

He starts to lead you toward the man and his truck, and as you get closer, you can see a heavy duty set of snow chains in the vehicle’s tires. When you get close to the man, König stops, pulling you tight against his side by your waist, introducing the man to you as Horangi.

For a moment, the man was silent. Simply looking you up and down before turning his head back to König.

“This is her?” He asked, not giving you so much as a second look.

You can’t see it, but you hear the rustling of his clothes as König nods his head in response. The exchange filled you with a mix of embarrassment at being spoken about like you weren’t present and awkwardness at the palpable tension between König and Horiangi.

Another second of silence passes and Horiangi gives you another look before stuffing his hand in his pocket and pulling out his keys.

“Alright. Get in.” He says, apathy audible in his tone. He pushes himself upright from where he’d been leaning against the side of his truck and turns around, walking around toward the driver's side without another word or glance.

The whole exchange had struck you as odd, but König simply patted your back, directing you towards the passenger door.

“Sorry, Schatz. He doesn’t get out much.” He says, giving you an apologetic smile before opening the passenger door of the truck and folding down the passenger seat.

You hold back a groan at the sight of a jump seat, knowing that you’ll be stuck in the undoubtedly cramped back seat for however long the drive is. You weren’t quite sure where you were expecting to sit, as the truck only even had two doors- and König certainly wouldn’t be the one climbing into the back, but the sight of the tiny, low to the ground bench seat was enough to make your legs ache just thinking about it.

You step one foot up onto the floor of the truck, using it as a step so you can squeeze through the small space left by the folded down front seat to get into the back.

You try your best to do so gracefully and not fall face first into the back, but König resting his hand on your lower back to steady you (and not at all just so he could slide his hand down towards your ass) startles you and makes you lose your footing, leaving you to slide into the back and land on your knees with a soft “oof” sound.

You shot König a small glare, not missing the smirk he fails to keep hidden- even with the scarf covering half his face.

Once you’re situated in the backseat with your seat belt buckled and your backpack handed to you, König sits the front seat back up, and you find yourself crammed into a space that’s really only meant to hold children. Leg room as a concept is nonexistent. The seat is only half a foot or so off the truck floor and there’s barely enough room for you to sit with your feet flat.

The drive had been long and quiet, but not uncomfortably so. Horangi seemed comfortable to focus on driving, navigating the snow covered roads expertly even as they wound and doubled back on themselves, and you were happy to just enjoy the scenery, watching through the window as spruce, firs, and pine trees- all with their beaches sitting heavy from the weight of snow- pass by.

Your legs ached to be stretched after sitting in such an uncomfortable position and you’d found yourself beginning to doze off during the drive. Not quite falling asleep, but leaning your head against the window frame and letting your eyes glaze over. The flight had taken a toll on you - flights, actually. Plural. Because first there was one just to get to Yellowknife, then there was another on a bush plane to actually get to the area. And the jet lag was, frankly, a bitch. 

You were jerked out of your daze when the truck stopped and König reached back, using the shoulder of the driver's seat to brace himself, and you felt his hand envelop your shoulder as he gently shook you awake.

“Schatz, we’re here.” 

You let out a groan, sitting up and waiting for König to fold forward his seat so you could get out. 

Horangi had opened his door and gotten out the moment the car stopped, jerking the parking brake up and putting the car in park before yanking out his keys and tossing them in the cup holder, not bothering to take them with him. You stared at the keys for a moment, brow furrowing.

It was easily explainable enough. You were in the middle of nowhere, there was likely no one but you three for miles. But even then, Horangi leaving his keys in his truck made you do a double take. 

Most people would’ve slipped them in their pocket out of habit at least- but maybe your and König’s presence was simply disruptive. It was clear that Horangi either wasn’t in the mood for other people, or König calling them two “friends” had been a stretch… or maybe it was you. You wouldn’t blame him for not wanting to be a third wheel.

Regardless, you got the sense that Horangi wanted to get the two of you settled as fast as possible, even if for no reason other than to get you out of his hair.

When König folded the front passenger seat down, you first helped to hand forward the stuff that’d been put in the backseat with you for the drive before climbing out- nearly falling on your face in the process, courtesy the burning in your legs from the cramped space.

Outside of the truck, you caught your balance and looked around. Horangi was nowhere in sight and König was already moving away from the car, walking towards a narrow path that cut through the conifers. You took it as a sign to follow, reaching down to pick up two bags from where they sat in the snow.

The area where the road ended was densely wooded with spruces and firs, and the fluffy snow that blanketed the ground was undisturbed aside from your little trios’ footprints and the truck’s tire tracks.

It was cold, but König had apparently known what he was doing as far as getting winter gear for you, because the temperature was manageable, despite the wind burning your face whenever you made the mistake of looking into it.

You’d hardly had the chance to take two steps before the bags you were carrying were plucked out of your hands, making you jump and yelp as you turn to see Horangi beside you.

You hadn’t heard him approaching- a feat considering how loudly the snow would crunch as anyone walked across it. You stood frozen for a moment, watching as he took the bags from you with no more than a grunt. 

“You startled me-“ you said, trying to keep a stutter from your voice. “I didn’t hear you coming.”

“People usually don’t.” Horangi says, not giving you another look or a chance to respond before he starts down the trail.

You’re left standing there, staring at the space Horangi had disappeared to. The odd response left you drawing a blank.

You were really starting to think he didn’t like you… either that, or maybe you still weren’t used to the weirdness that came with König’s friends.

[mad3lyncline]

𝑻𝑬𝑿𝑻𝑺 𝑭𝑹𝑶𝑴 𝑴𝒀 𝑭𝑨𝑴𝑰𝑳𝒀 𝑮𝑹𝑶𝑼𝑷 𝑪𝑯𝑨𝑻 . starters from a variety of real texts that have cursed my family group chat .

[ 𝒔𝒎𝒔 📲 ] i didn't see that [ name ] is holding his junk until after i sent the pic

[ 𝒔𝒎𝒔 📲 ] just ate some fig newtons , the extra long ones

[ 𝒔𝒎𝒔 📲 ] fuck yeah , go give that beer your dick !

[ 𝒔𝒎𝒔 📲 ] maybe he'll let you down quicker if you give him an open mouth kiss

[ 𝒔𝒎𝒔 📲 ] you'll want to keep the gondola operator alive but everyone else is dispensable

[ 𝒔𝒎𝒔 📲 ] we have parked our lard asses under displays for souvenirs and we are both NOT MOVING .

[ 𝒔𝒎𝒔 📲 ] no more mountains you've lost your mountain privileges

[ 𝒔𝒎𝒔 📲 ] we still have our sense of humor , but [ name ] may lose theirs at any moment .

[ 𝒔𝒎𝒔 📲 ] we are safe . we think . no need to worry . i don't think .

[ 𝒔𝒎𝒔 📲 ] it's funny now , but i can feel myself getting a bit cranky .

[ 𝒔𝒎𝒔 📲 ] i'm really sick with icantgotowork disease 🦠 it's rough

[ 𝒔𝒎𝒔 📲 ] have you guys gotten diarrhea yet ?

[ 𝒔𝒎𝒔 📲 ] i hear [ name's ] ex is writing a diss track

[ 𝒔𝒎𝒔 📲 ] okay getting food bird pooped on me

[ 𝒔𝒎𝒔 📲 ] i just ate a cake that said 'happy birthday baby jesus'

[ 𝒔𝒎𝒔 📲 ] the autism is strong today

[ 𝒔𝒎𝒔 📲 ] there will be no butt cakes and please take me off this thread

[ 𝒔𝒎𝒔 📲 ] i'll start growing my pubes !

[ 𝒔𝒎𝒔 📲 ] [ name ] is making us celebrate president's day with a cake

[ 𝒔𝒎𝒔 📲 ] my favorite thing is explaining slang that mom will absolutely hate

[ 𝒔𝒎𝒔 📲 ] their old dog looked like a cigarette

[ 𝒔𝒎𝒔 📲 ] yeah it's really hard being really good looking all the time

[ 𝒔𝒎𝒔 📲 ] i'm about to be that asshole that brings their leftovers on a plane

[ 𝒔𝒎𝒔 📲 ] i have to focus on one weird thing a day or i'll die

[ 𝒔𝒎𝒔 📲 ] congrats bunghole i'm proud of you 🥰

[ 𝒔𝒎𝒔 📲 ] just so you know : penis .

[leonstoenailunderhisbed]

Insurgency: Front Lines

Summary: A totalitarian regime reigns over a South American country in which the virus is being distributed to its citizens at the pretense of a “cure.” Leon was sent to retrieve a sample of the virus mutation when he stumbled upon a group of anti-government activists whose main goal is to overthrow their government. Will Leon help the cause or will he fall down with the government as well?

Warning: Mentions of mature themes. Read at your own discretion. Slow burn. Age gap (Leon is 38 and reader is 21+). Reader is female.

Word count; 4,848

A/N: can you guys tell i love writing?

[part one][part two][part three][part four][part five][part six][part seven][part eight][bonus]

“The most effective way to destroy people is to deny and obliterate their own understanding of their history.” - George Orwell, 1984

Leon woke up early the next following day, he had a special mission to accomplish and he’d rather do it sooner than later.

His footsteps were heavy as he walked towards the private plane. He was armed with his weapons and vest as the other soldiers walked ahead of him in similar outfits.

Once he was inside the place, he put in the seatbelt and stared out the window.

As the other soldiers settled in, a chief commander stepped in and began to address the group.

“Good morning soldiers. Today we are to fulfill our duty as not only Americans but as aiders. We are to help and be on our top game, this isn’t like any other battle. We are fighting against rebels and we must ensure the safety of the innocent. If any of you do not feel fit for the job, leave now.”

No one stood up, they all watched in silence as the commander continued, “I will be your commander. Call me Commander Pittman. That’s all.”

The commander left towards the front of the plane, leaving Leon and the other soldiers dwell on his words.

“The Leon S. Kennedy is joining us on our trip,” one of the soldiers taunted. Leon didn’t pay much attention, only giving him a brief look before looking back out the window as the plane took off.

“Yep, the one and only,” Leon replied begrudgingly.

“Did you practice your Spanish? Get it? Because you went to Spain to save the president’s daughter?” The soldier snickered and Leon, one again, didn’t pay much attention. He’s gotten used to all the comments- good or bad ones. Right now he had to focus. He was put on a very special and secret mission and he couldn’t afford to screw it up.

As the plane took off, the sky began to turn dark. Pruye was an island hours far from the U.S. It was located right in the middle of the Atlantic Ocean.

Leon closed his eyes and decided to get some rest before hell started all over again for him.

-

You were now sitting around a campfire inside the underground system of La Sénte Mountain. The Insurgents had built a system inside the mountain that led them underground, where they lived.

As you sat in front of the fire, you couldn’t stop thinking about Franco, Esme, and your bother. All taken away from you by the government. You were angry, sad, infuriated. You felt a lot right now.

One of the men who had pointed their guns at you came over and sat next to you, offering you a bowl of warm soup, “For you. Yarina wants you fed and rested for tomorrow- says you’ll need it.”

You took the bowl of soup and took a small sip out of it. It tasted good, pork with vegetables.

“Thanks,” you mumbled as you kept eating.

“My name is Josue, sorry about earlier,” he nodded at you and then gazed at the fire.

“No, I get it. Can’t trust anyone in a war, right?”

He chuckled at your statement as he shook his head, “At least you get it.”

Silence overtook the two of you but you still kept eating. It’s been a while since you’ve last ate and you were grateful to have been given some food and shelter.

“Here’s the plan, novata,” he started quietly, “I’ll teach you how to use a gun and in exchange you do something for me.”

You nodded slowly, “Okay.. what do you want me to do?”

Josue pulled out a picture of a young girl that looked exactly like him. Brown hair and green eyes.

“This is my sister, Victoria. Right now she’s in San Bandero. She’s a medic, she worked with us for a couple years but then got captured by la presidenta,” he explained in a hushed tone. Josue looked around before leaning to whisper in your ear.

“If you bring her back alive, I promise I can get you out of Pruye.”

Your body froze at his words. He could find a way of out of this island?

“That sounds risky, Josue. You heard Yarina, there are soldiers are every port. There’s no way neither of us wouldn’t get spotted,” you looked back down at your half eaten soup before looking back at him. The flames of the fire illuminating his facial features.

“I’ll bring her back. But I get to hold on for a favor in the future.”

Josue stared at you, thinking about your deal. After some time he nodded, “Fine. I’ll agree to that.”

Josue looked around once again before giving you his handgun, “We’ll start small and work your way up to the big ones, okay?”

You nodded and took the handgun, placing the now empty bowl of soup on the floor. Josue motioned for you to stand up and follow him towards one of the rooms inside the underground system. Composed of metallic hallways and sliding doors, he led you to a door with the number 279 imprinted on it.

He slid the door open, “Ladies first.”

You walked into the room first as he followed behind you and closed the door.

“This is El Rango de Disparo,” Josue explained as he stepped forward. The shooting range was made of metal and so were the mummies. There were only three since the room was so small. The dim light barely illuminated enough of the room to even make out the targets on the dummies’ chest. But still, it was better than nothing.

“Now, I want you to aim your gun at any of these three unfortunate dummies. Don’t pull the trigger, it doesn’t have any bullets yet,” you stepped forward and face the middle dummy.

You pulled out the handgun from your back pocket and aimed it at the dummy’s chest. The circular target that was hand painted was colored in a bright red, the same one from the map you saw earlier. These people made their own resources.

“Okay, nice form. Your arm is tense, relax. Put your left leg behind, create a strong stance in case the enemy decides to throw you off balance.”

You nodded at his words and did as he said.

“Good, now give me your gun,” he put his hand out as you handed him the gun. He took out a pack of bullets and began to show you the basics.

“This is a bullet,” he held the silver metallic bullet between his thumb and index finger, “Small but deadly.”

He then pulled out a magazine, “This is a maganize- no, not the paper ones you see on the stores. This one contains bullets.”

You took the magazine and felt its weight, “You need to put this,” he pointed to the magazine, “inside this,” he then pointed to the gun.

“Just pull on this tiny lever,” he pointed to the top of the gun near the end where it had a small lever pull, “It should release the empty magazine.”

You pulled on the small lever and watched as the used magazine fell down into your palm. It was empty.

“Okay, now put the new one inside, should be easy,” he mumbled the last part as he watched you insert the loaded magazine into the gun. He clapped quietly.

“Good job, novata, now pull on the slide,” he tapped the slide on top of the gun. You gently grasped the top part and slid it backwards and watched as I slid forward with a clinking sound.

“You’re all set, now shoot that dummy,” you took a deep breath and aimed the gun at the middle dummy. Your index finger slowly curled into the trigger before pulling on it.

The sound of a gunshot fired echoed through the room as you watched the bullet go through the center of the red circle target. Josue whistled and then crossed his arms over his chest.

“So you can shoot… nicely done,” he patted your shoulder.

You smiled softly as you actually saw the way you perfectly aimed the dummy’s target. Who knew you had an affinity for gun shooting?

-

It was a long morning for Leon. The different time zones made his brain become a little mushy before he finally realize where he was.

It was morning when he left and it’s morning at he arrived at Pruye. It seemed like this morning lasted for an entire day.

He groaned as he woke up and stretched in his seat. He looked around and saw that he was the only one away so far. Leon sighed and walked over to the restroom of the plane.

He stood in front of the sink mirror and splashed water on his face. As he stared back at his reflection, the pilot began to speak over the speaker, "We will land in 45 minutes. I repeat, we will land in 45 minutes."

With a heavy sigh, Leon checked his weapons while still being in the restroom. One thing about Leon, although it may not look like it, is that he always made sure his guns were prepared. Maybe it was because he worked such a dangerous job all the time, maybe it was also because he liked to have some sense of control in his life.

He went back to his seat and noticed that all the other soldiers had started to wake up. The closer they got to Pruye, the more horrible his gut feeling became. He knew something would happen once they stepped foot in the foreign country. But maybe it was the PTSD talking.

Leon sat back down and kept staring out the window as the view of the country began to set into place. It was a small island with a lot of buildings.

-

You were with Yarina as she briefed you on the latest news, "We've received a plane signal up in the sky. American Airlines are approaching and are about half an hour from landing. I want you and four other people to make your way over there and extract as much information in this USB," she handed you a black USB port.

"Y/n, the future of our country depends on whatever you find inside that building," She took a step closer to you, "If you must, shoot anyone who gets in the way. We cannot afford to fail, not right now when the opportunity is too good to ignore."

You nodded slowly, "You got it... I'll be back in no time."

"Good luck and thank you for helping us. We really do appreciate it, she whispered in your ear.

You gave her one solid nod before stepping towards a gate where the four other Insurgents stood. They all had their weapons strapped on their back, their uniform had a makeshift shield on their chest, arms, and legs.

"Ready, novata?" One of the male Insurgents asked as the other three entered a grey van. You nodded and followed them inside, The gates of the underground system opened, letting the driver drive the van out of the Insurgent camp.

-

"Prepare the anti-aircraft artillery and make sure to track the Insurgents going to the location, i want eyes everywhere, got it?" Yarina stated firmly as she walked around the Insurgent control room where TV's were displaying information about the plane radar as well as a camera following the van you were currently in.

"Yes ma'am, anti-aircraft ready for launch in three... two... one."

-

Leon's held on to one of the seats of the plane as they were met with turbulence. An alarm went off and the lights flashed red inside. Oxygen bags dropped down each isle of seats as the co-pilot spoke, "Everyone take a seat, we're experiencing unexpected movements from land. I repeat-"

The co-pilot got interrupted by the sudden sound of explosion against the plane. One of its wings had been hit by the anti-aircraft artillery. Leon immediately walked towards a window and sat that the wing was destroyed and on fire.

"We need to get off!" He yelled to the other soldiers. Leon walked towards the emergency exit and with brute force, he forced the door open. Wind entered the plane, causing everything to fly out.

"Come on!!" He yelled as he pushed some soldiers out of the door. Parachutes opened as the soldiers started to fall down the sky.

Another bomb hit the airplane, splitting it in half. Other soldiers got sucked out of the plane as Leon held on to the door's handle, The plane shook terribly as the alarm kept on blaring.

Just as Leon was about to jump out, he heard a pained scream of one of the shoulders. He turned his over his shoulder and saw that a female soldier had been stabbed in the abdomen with a metal rod. As she yelled in pain, blood spluttered out of her mouth. Leon let go of one hand from the door's handle and tried to reach the soldier.

The plane had been hit again by another bomb. This time, it caused the entire plane to explode.

-

You were running behind your team as they ran through the forest and towards the meeting location. As the bombs blew off, the ground shook and you turned your head towards the sky.

A plane had been hit and you watched as it exploded. You were able to see how some people jumped out of the plane with their parachutes.

Your heart began to beat faster as you realized how dangerous everything was turning out to be.

"Let's go, we've only got so much time before they call reinforcements," The leader of the team said. The team resumed their path towards the building.

You and the team approached the backside of the building, noticing how it was indeed heavily guarded by soldiers.

"Okay, this is the plan. We've got smoke bombs and hand grenades. We are to only use them when necessary, the point of this mission is to be as stealthy as possible. Everyone got their silencers?"

The team nodded as they clung on to their guns, including you.

The leader gave a solid nod before turning his attention back to the building. With his right hand, he signaled two soldiers off to the right side of the building. He did the same thing with the left side as well. He turned to look at you, "Stay here. Keep an eye out, those Americans could still be alive, and we need someone to signal us out." He handed you a red flare gun, "Remember, only when necessary."

You took the gun and nodded as you tucked it back into one of your pockets on your uniform. "Wait-" You suddenly spoke up, "Yarina wanted me to gather the data, I need to go with you guys."

The leader shook his head no, "No, you'll get yourself killed. Give me the USB and I'll take care of it." He put his hand out.

This was a mission given to you specifically by an ally. But you agreed to it anyway. With a sigh, you pulled out the USB and handed it to him, "Make it quick," you whispered to him.

He nodded and put the USB in his breast pocket. He got up and letf for the building.

The sun was still up and shinning its bright heat down on the island. You turned around and stared out towards the forest to keep watch. Taking your gun from your holster, you held in your hands and strained your ear to listen for any sounds.

-

Leon groaned as he woke up. He lifted himself up slowly from the ground. Slowly opening his eyes, he looked around and saw that he was currently in a forest. With furrowed brows and a confused expression, he stood up and looked around his surroundings. He looked up and sat his parachute stuck on a tree.

Right, his plane got bombed.

The last thing he remembered was a massive explosion and a parachute.

He must've fallen from the plane right before the impact. One step closer to death, he always thought.

Leon huffed and began to walk through the forest, trying to find civilization.

He still had his gun and knife, he checked to make sure.

-

As you waited for your team to finish up, you heard gunshots come from within the building. Your eyes widened and your heartrate increased. They've been found.

Just as you were about to go help them, you heard rustling coming from the forest. You gripped on your gun and aimed it at the rustling bushes.

With a concentrated look, you remained silent and watched attentively as a man appeared from the forest.

-

Leon's eyes burned as he stepped out of the forest and into the bright sunlight. He was too blind in the moment to notice a young girl aiming her weapon at him.

Once his eyes adjusted, his eyes fell on her. He quickly pulled out his own weapon and pointed it at her.

"Put your gun down," He demanded lowly.

-

Your eyes twitched as you gripped the gun tighter, "No."

The man kept his serious face before taking a step towards you. You took a step back in response.

Your attention was directed back to the building as the ground shook from an explosion. The hand grenades...

Without notice, the man ran up to you and kicked your gun away from your hand. You gasped in shock and quickly shielded yourself with your arms.

The man swiped under your feet, causing you to fall down to the floor. He ran up behind you and wrapped his arm around your neck in a headlock position.

Your hands found their way to his forearm as you tried to pry his arm off. This man was strong and muscular and compared to your figure, you were surprised you haven't died from the lack of oxygen.

With a swift motion, you swayed to the side, causing to fall down on the floor. His grasp loosened as you slipped away. You ran towards your gun, you picked it up and kicked his gun away from his reach.

The man groaned in annoyance and looked at you before taking his knife from his sheath. He held it in his hands and began to approach you.

"Don't move or I'll shoot!" You threatened.

He scoffed and narrowed his eyes at you, "You've had plenty of chances to do that, sweetheart."

You mimicked his expression, "Stop or I will."

He stopped walking and stood up straight, staring at you dead in the eyes. He scoffed again, "Go ahead. Try."

He ran up to you with his knife. You barely had enough time to duck away from him, his knife grazing your arm. Causing a wound to open up and bleed. You hissed in pain and glared at him. With your other hand, you aimed the gun at him and pulled the trigger, only to miss the shoot by an inch on his thigh.

"Jesus-" He mumbled as he moved to the side to evade your bullets. He ran up to you again, this time to punch you.

You jumped out of the way and hit him in the abdomen with your foot. He stumbled back but quickly reached for your leg and pulled you down to the floor. Your back hit the grassy floor with a thud as you groaned in pain. He quickly kicked the gun out of your hands and watched as you scrambled to your feet to fight him with your fists.

"You sure you want this, princess?" He raised a brow as he saw your stance. He exhaled through his nose loudly before he also got in a stance. You were relentless, he thought to himself.

You nodded, "I can fight just fine."

"Could've fooled me," he mumbled and began to throw punches at you.

You could only avoid some of them and the ones that you couldn't hurt so much. Just as you were about to launch a punch, the man fell to his knees and to the ground.

You furrowed your brows confused and looked towards the building and saw that the team leader had shot him with a dart gun. The man passed out on the floor unconscious as he succumbed to the sedative.

-

"Madam President, there's been an attack on the American plane. There were no reports of survivors so far," The female assistant said to the president as they stood on the entry of the building.

President Mendez had an angry look but didn't say anything yet. She simply walked back inside the building and motioned for a Pruyanian to walk up to her. She slapped the soldier and gripped his jaw, "Tell the commander that he is responsible for those Americans. If I find that there are no survivors, I will kill everyone in this godforsaken country."

She let go of his jaw and watched as he scurried off to somewhere. Then she turned to look at her assistant, "I want you to put a warning announcement for tonight."

She cleared her throat before continuing, "We will publicly execute anyone who defy me. If anyone is associated with any sort of rebellion, they will be publicly shot."

-

Leon slowly opened his eyes, adjusting to the dark night. It had turned night during the time he'd been asleep. He tried to move but found his wrists tied up to a tree. He looked around and saw that there was a campfire in the middle of the forest.

And then his eyes fell on you. You were sitting in front of the fire, away from the other Insurgents as they were asleep. You kept watch, he thought to himself.

You seemed so focused as you stared down at the fiery orange flames that you didn't seem to notice that the man had woken up. You took your gun and stood up, ready to walk out of the forest. He narrowed his eyes at you as you walked out of the forest and towards the building.

With a heavy sigh, he reached for his hidden pocketknife and began to cut the tie on his wrists. He'd have to give it them, they put up one hell of a fight.

Leon patted his pockets and realized that they had stripped him of all his weapons. He groaned quietly and rolled his head back against the bark of the tree.

-

You walked through the forest as you tried to reach the building once again. This time, you wanted to rescue Victoria- Josue's sister. As you stealthily walked through the forest, you hid behind a bush and watched as more soldiers surrounded the perimeter of the building. There were helicopters flying above with their search lights in lookout for any intruders.

Just as you were about to bounce, the sound of a night announcement interrupted your thoughts and actions. The TV screen on the tall tower turned on and began to broadcast the president.

-

"Dear citizens of Pruye, it has come to my attention that there's been recent violent activity targeting not only your brothers and sisters but also strangers from other allies. We must terminate such behavior and make sure that our country remains peaceful. Those who show resistance and insubordination will be terminated."

Leon's face scrunched up at that announcement, the older Insurgents woke up and stared in horror, "She's going to kill us..." one of them whispered in fear.

It was justifiable to feel scared at the sudden target on your back. It was no longer safe being out in the streets without getting murdered.

-

"But with bad news, comes good news," the president as she had an unsettling smile on her face.

"We've distributed our medicine to the four city states surround our base quarters. We will no longer fall behind to the other countries."

Footages of people appeared on the TV. But they weren't people anymore. They had turned into monsters, flesh eating and violent monsters.

Your eyes widened and your jaw fell slack as you witnessed the way the government had turned some of its civilians into things that were far from human.

-

Leon was just as shock; he immediately recognizes what was going on. The government had given its citizens a mutated branch of the T-Virus under the pretext that it was medicine. And it caused many innocent lives to be turned into B.O.Ws. His expression was one of shock and anger.

The four city states were now contaminated of zombies and B.O.Ws. And he dreaded ever being sent here.

-

You took this opportunity to quickly climb through the window of the building, sneaking inside quietly as you tried to find Victoria. There was no time for grieving, you wanted to save as many lives as possible as well end this government once and for all.

You held your gun up as you quietly walked up the stairs. As you neared the fourth floor, you could hear faint sobbing coming from the end of the hall. There was a door halfway opened that allowed for the sounds to echo through the hall. With slow and quiet steps, you approached the room and peeked through the opening.

Victoria.

You quickly entered the room and lowered your weapon. She had been tied up to a chair as she was covered in blood and sweat. They'd been torturing her and you can see the exhaustion in her eyes.

"Victoria, your brother wanted me to rescue you. He's safe and he's alive," you quickly murmured as you untied her. Her wrists were free and she hugged you tightly. You slowly wrapped your arms around her. Poor girl has been here for god knows how long.

"Let's get you out of here," You pulled back and began to descend down the hall and down the stairs to where you snuck in.

Once you and victoria made it safely outside, you dragged her to the forest where the other Insurgents were currently camping.

-

"Wait... where's Y/n?" one of the Insurgents asked as he looked around and saw that you were gone. He looked over at Leon and walked up to him, scrunching up his shirt as he got right up in his face, "You saw her, didn't you?" the insurgent seethed through gritted teeth.

"I saw the direction she went but not exactly where she went," Leon grumbled under his breath.

The Insurgent was about to punch Leon until rustling from the forest began to sound all throughout. The insurgents drew their weapons but then lowered them as they saw you run back to them with Victoria.

"Vic?" One of the female insurgents asked, "We thought you were dead-"

"I'm okay," she replied weakly, "She saved me," Victoria pointed to you and you gave the other Insurgents a curt nod.

"I hate ruining special moments like this but we need to leave, they'll send a search party for us. Let’s go now!” The team leader said as he began to walk back towards where they had parked the van.

“Wait, what about the American?” They all turned to look at Leon who was still tied up on the tree.

“We take him back to base, he’ll be our key to President Mendez.”

Two insurgents nodded and began to untie Leon and drag him behind the leader. You and Victoria walked behind them as you tried to comfort her.

-

Once you all had reached the van, you entered the backseat with Victoria next to you and the American in front of you. You kept a close eye on Victoria as she seemed to not be doing too well.

“She’s got a wound on her arm,” the American mumbled as he looked at you. You furrowed your brows and looked back at Victoria’s arm.

He was right. She’d been bleeding. You took a medkit from the van and began to treat her wound as best as you could, all while getting flashbacks of Esme and how you couldn’t save her.

But now wasn’t the time to think back on everything. Right now what mattered the most was making sure Victoria and the rest of the team made it back to La Sénte.

You leaned back against the wall of the van, staring right at the American in front of you.

He stared right back at you.

“So…” he started quietly, “What‘s your name?”

You scoffed and crossed your arms above your chest, “Why do you want to know?”

“Well, y’know, since you guys are taking me captive and are planning to use for whatever reason. I thought I’d at least have some info on you guys,” he replied as I stared at you with a slight smirk.

You furrowed your brows and sighed, “My name’s Y/n L/n, yours?”

“Leon S. Kennedy,” he nodded once at you before looking at Victoria.

“You said you saved her?” He looked back at you with a raised brow, to which you nodded.

Hu hummed lowly in response before letting the silence overtake the atmosphere.

This was going to be a long ride.

[ghoultrifle]

it's mushy may time, bitches !! thank you @forlorn-crows for the prompt list and general organisation <33

prompt: cuteness aggression

relationship: sunny/swiss

word count: 750

summary: sunny sleep talks and swiss finds it unbearably sweet. it's very silly.

please be kind, i am not very practiced with writing anything that isn't porn. rbs are appreciated and will hopefully mean i do more than one single prompt in the whole month sdjhfskjfhk (feel free to play the game of 'what funky word did i learn today ?' eheheh)

read on ao3 or below the cut :))

“No you can’t delete the watermelon, it’s in the desk!” Sunny mumbles, her mouth partially blocked by the pillow she’s unceremoniously shoved under her.

Swiss awakes, ready to whack his love with said pillow. “Shine, it’s early, go annoy Mountain please?”

“The shoes can’t go in the wall, they’re too hot!”

A smile creeps onto Swiss’ face. It’s a uniquely vulnerable experience, being on the receiving end of a sleep talker. Sunny has no idea what her unconscious brain is feeding her- or perhaps vaguely catapulting towards her in the hopes that something will stick. Yet Swiss has the honour of being there for the barely-formed, mismatched set of words that leave her mouth. He knows they’ll giggle about it in the morning as they always do; Sunny attempting, to no avail, to connect Swiss’ feedback to her hazy memory of the dreams her brain concocted for her viewing pleasure. It never works; the nonsense she spouts seemingly untethered from reality altogether, plucked from a different plane of existence, perhaps one where footwear temperature is a real concern for its occupants.

Sunny continues to lie fast asleep, the tendrils of sleep latched onto the depths of her mind, keeping her peaceful while her brain whirs, stirring her thoughts but not her vessel. She’s sprawled out on the bed. Head to the side and mouth wide open, in what looks like an effort to chew the pillow. In reality it’s acting as less of a neck support and more of a drool-catcher as spit tumbles its way out and onto the floral design.

Swiss only looks on in admiration, the moonlight creating a shimmer in the puddle as it soaks into the fabric. His smile grows wider, fangs catching on his bottom lip. He likes to think Sunny’s body wouldn’t let her talk in her sleep if she didn’t on some subconscious level feel safe with him. It’s a testament to the bond they’ve created topside, inseparable since the day Sunshine was summoned; partners in crime, wizards of whimsy, goofy guys. All silly ways of saying ‘I love you’, which is exactly what Swiss wants to shout from the rooftops.

“It’s not my fault you flew into the glove,” she snarls.

“Is too! You had the map, sunflower,” Swiss tuts under his breath playfully. He’s careful not to wake her when she’s like this but he can’t help joining in on the shenanigans once in a while. He’s imagining a tunnel, for fighter jets- or perhaps drones would be more suited to his skillset- it’s got one entrance and five exits, each one representing a finger on a glove. In his on-behalf-of-Sunny-dream, he’s in control while Sunny’s frantically trying to unfold a comically large map that supposedly holds the secrets to navigating The Glove. He’s asking her where to go but the map is unfolding ad infinitum and before they know it he’s flying through a finger hole (the middle one of course) lest they crash into the purlicue (The webbing between your thumb and forefinger, Swiss, how do you not know that? He thinks back to Aether and his endless list of things you didn’t know had names).

Jolting out of his trance, Swiss realises he may not have been as awake as he thought during his own dream-like sequence. He leans into his weary state, the dumb smile on his face returning. As he shifts on bed, carefully trying to manoeuvre his mate’s hand, Sunny decides she has other plans. A small hand with not-so-small claws abruptly finds itself on Swiss’ face, nipping him ever so slightly.

“I really love him, Lus, he’s always there for me,” she whispers, and Swiss can’t take it anymore. His internal jar of love is spilling over and his nervous system is screaming at him to let some out. So he does what any normal person does and bites Sunny, in the little nook that’s just the right size for him to gently sink his teeth in. 

“It’s a purlicue!” He mocks in a hushed tone, as best he can with Sunny between his teeth, hoping his wave of quintessence is strong enough to puncture Aether’s sweet dreams with a million images of weird hand parts.

In the morning Sunny will admit to Swiss that she did remember the dream where she was talking to Cumulus. She’ll leave it there though because she doesn’t have the heart to tell him it was actually about a sentient grocery bag that followed her around to carry her shopping.

[darth-mortem]

I'm trying to learn English by writing short texts on various topics. I'm writing them about Ghost, Soap and other COD characters. So, here is text about travel and rest (613 words).

“Hey, Captain, did you miss us?” Soap asked cheerfully, looking at Price.

“Honestly he didn’t.” Gaz answered and smirked snidely. “He said how quiet and calm it was without you two this whole week.”

“You’re a jerk!” Soap pouted. “It can’t be true!”

Captain Price sighed heavily and turned the page of the newspaper he was reading.

Ghost carried their backpacks to their rooms and came back to the dayroom. He started making tea for himself, Price and Garrick. Johnny didn’t like tea, so he made coffee for himself and grumbled something about fucking Brits.

“So where have you been?” The Captain asked, lighting his cigar.

“We traveled through the Carpathian Mountains by quad bikes.” Ghost said and sat opposite Price. “We stopped for the night and slept in a tent.”

“Wow, sex in nature is cool.” Garrick interrupted. “Hope you stocked up on wet wipes.”

“No need to be jealous, mate.” Soap sat next to Ghost and rested his head on his shoulder.

“Were you hunting?” Price asked because he was tired of hearing stupid jokes about personal life of his subordinates.

“Hell yeah!” Soap nodded and smiled. “And fishing! I caught a huge trout! And Simon cooked a gorgeous soup with mushrooms and grilled fish steaks.”

Johnny told how Simon and he were picking mushrooms and all his prey was poisonous. It was the first and the only time Ghost allowed Soap to pick mushrooms. Kyle was laughing a lot and Johnny kicked him once or twice.

“Where your route had started?” Price asked when the Sergeants calmed down.

“We flew to Slovakia by plane,” Ghost answered, drank his tea. “Then we rented quad bikes and went through it, Poland, Ukraine and Romania.”

“And Transylvania!” Soap interrupted.

“Did you see vampires?” Garrick smirked.

“No, but Johnny was attacked by a bat,” Ghost raised his balaclava and lit a cigarette. “It was at night when he left the tent. I was already asleep, but his screams and shots woke me up”.

“Soap, did you really shoot a bat?” Gaz stared at Johnny.

“Oh, fuck you, guys!” Soap got angry and pouted. “It was a bloody big bat! And very aggressive!”

“So did you kill it, son?” The Captain looked at Johnny with interest.

“Maybe,” he answered. “It was fucking dark there!”

Soap started showing photos and videos. There were a lot of beautiful pictures of nature; their camp with a comfortable tent, camp table and two fishing chairs; their food cooked by Ghost. Soap was in many photos and videos too. Price and Garrick saw how he was riding a quad bike, fishing, trying to help with cooking, jumping from the waterfall naked, even sleeping in the tent. Simon has much less photos and he was in his balaclava there.

“We have brought gifts for you!” Johnny smiled and ran to his room.

He came back very soon, carrying several packages. Price and Garrick received postcards from Slovakia, magnets from Poland, handmade leather wallets from Ukraine and vampire clay mugs from Transylvania.

“Now it’s your turn to go to leave,” Soap said to the Captain and Gaz. “Where will you go?”

“On the seaside,” Price answered. “I want just to lie in the sun, to swim in warm sea and to drink cocktails all week”.

“And I’ll go water skiing and spearfishing,” Kyle said.

“So you will go together too?” Simon asked, bowed his head.

“No, just at the same place,” Gaz answered quickly, and Soap smirked.

“Well, I’m going to sleep,” Ghost said and got up.

“Me too,” Soap smiled. “Good night!” They left together and Kyle got up to make another cup of tea for him and for the Captain.

[melisusthewee]

In my ongoing attempt to convince people to watch this movie (because it is so fucking good you have no idea), I put together this list of reasons why you need to watch this film. Sorry, but I can't be normal about this:

None of the backgrounds or environments are CGI! Those mountains? Those are the Andes! That's the real Valley of Tears! While filming with the actors was done in a different location (I believed they filmed in the Sierra Nevadas?), location photography and filming was done in the Andes and then spliced accordingly into the film.

It's an ensemble piece! Until now, most movies/docs/books have (understandably) focused almost exclusively on Nando Parrado and Roberto Canessa because of their 10 day trek through the mountains. But the group was more than just the two of them and this film shows that by emphasizing everyone's importance and roles in their survival.

Having said that, NANDO PARRADO IS THE FUCKING GOAT. This guy fractured his skull during the crash which caused his brain to swell. Everyone thought he was dead at first and only brought him back inside the plane when someone noticed he was still breathing. Even then, he wasn't expected to survive for very long so the others placed him where it was coldest which ended up saving his life as the cold temperature along with dehydration helped bring the swelling in his brain down. He was in a coma for three days, woke up to learn his mother was dead and his sister was dying, and decided, "Fuck this, I am getting off this mountain and you're all doing it with me." AND THEN HE DID, part of which involved hiking for 10 days across the Andes with NO GEAR.

The decision to make Numa Turcatti the narrator was brilliant. I cannot say more due to spoilers but iykyk.

Speaking of other films (looking at you, 1993's "Alive"), this movie cast exclusively Uruguayan (and some Argentinian) actors in order to give it proper authenticity.

This movie does not fuck around, with the crash happening within the first 15 minutes of the movie. And it is horrible in that it is probably one of the most accurate portrayals of a plane crash? I don't like flying, and I was incredibly anxious watching it to the point where I thought initially I might have to turn it off. But despite this, it never feels exploitive or anything. Just... real.

The entire movie was shot chronologically in order to give the make-up team an easier time with getting the actors to look increasingly gaunt and disheveled as well as adding a tighter consistency between shots and scenes. Many of the actors lost upwards of 50 lbs by the time filming was concluded.

For the avalanche scene, the actors were buried under nearly 8 inches of real snow. Because of this, the redness of their skin isn't the work of make-up or special effects but is very real.

Michael Giacchino's score. But even more importantly, his use of silence.

Honestly, this movie feels genuinely cold in a way that most movies and tv shows never quite capture. The sound of frozen clothing crunching, the frost that covers them, the clear impact of cold and frost on hair and skin, the shaking and shivering. It's really hard to describe, but like... it didn't feel like these were just actors on a set walking around. It felt genuinely cold.

The payada (rhyming/rap battle) was entirely improvised by the actors.

Enzo Vogrincic (Numa) looks like a young Adam Driver. You know you want to watch him stare soulfully into the camera for two hours. (But really, the acting in this movie is phenomenal.)

For Cold Boy fanciers, Gustavo Zerbino is basically the group's Goodsir - a cinnamon roll doing his best.

Fito Strauch's homemade sunglasses!

I could write an essay about the way the film confronts and portrays the cannibalism. Since I've rambled on long enough, let me just say here that it feels authentic in the way it's handled and not like you typically expect to see in stories like the Franklin Expedition, the Essex, or the Donner Party. (My only criticism is that it looks like they used raw chicken as the meat? And I unfortunately happen to know that human meat very much does not look like chicken.)

MOST IMPORTANTLY, this movie gives voices to those who didn't survive the mountains. And yes, it is a story about survival (and is a wonderful portrayal of positive masculinity) but it is really a story about love. Love for one's friends. Love for each other. And how love is the only way we survive.