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ellaa-writes · 5 months

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konig and the reader are roommates; best friends with a slight attraction to each other. reader decides to go out clubbing with some girlfriends, showing off her tight dress to konig before leaving— which ultimately arouses him hardly ;))

konig let’s his dick get the best of him and goes through the readers pantie drawer (#pantiekink) and goes back to his room, jerking himself off to the reader’s panties.. and boom reader comes back early and catches him.

(show your post about writers block, though you could execute this idea perfectly)

So sorry this took so long to write. This ask was sent back in November. I got a little carried away while writing this. Love this prompt so much! Thank you for sending it in and hope you enjoy :) (not proofread) PART 2

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After a long week of writing essays, listening while your professors drone on and on and spending every waking second studying or working your part time job. Simply to say you were beat and exhausted. Wanting nothing more than to stay in, catch up on some z's and possible a few episodes of your new favourite show.

But atlas you received a last minute text from your BFF.

I'm picking you up at 8, better look cute.

Throwing yourself back on your bed, letting out a loud huff. Knowing damn well you won't be able to say no to her. A soft knock against the frame of the door brought your attention back to reality.

He was tall, brooding and all to yummy, as your friends say. Your roommate König stood in the doorway, taking up all the space. His head reaching right to the top of the frame.

"Hey, didn't here you come in." you said sitting up. You kicked your shoes off and began typing back your response.

"Got plans?" he inquired. Leaning into the frame, crossing his over his chest. Making every muscle tighten and bulge just how you like it.

"Hmm, Kate's dragging me to some bar most likely." you replied to him. "I better get ready now, knowing her she'll show up early." it wasn't a surprise that your friend group loved to show up at your place. They all loved to sit around and ogle your roommate.

After answering an ad in the university student paper, you found yourself being shown around a decently sized 2 bedroom apartment only a block away from campus. It was too good to be true and too good to pass up. The landlord explaining that the first room was already rented out. You didn't mind sharing with a male, he seemed more than tidy. And you needed away from the awful university dorm rooms.

First meeting König, that was one for the books. After hauling your belongings up the 3 flights of stairs. Of course the elevator would break the day your were moving in. Struggling to get the key in the door, only to be greeted by a 6'7 and 270 lbs man standing bare cheated in the kitchen. You damn nearly fell over. Needing a moment to catch your breath.

Kate went on and on for weeks about him. Telling you if you didn't make a move she will. You had to remind her she had a long term boyfriend and you were seeing someone at the time, which soon fizzled out.

"I don't understand why you never say no to her." he tried to rationalize. You pushed passed him on your way to the shared bathroom.

"It's better today yes than listen to her complain." you told him back. Shutting the door before he could say anymore.

You took a quick shower, making sure to shave every nook and cranny. Layering yourself in body butter and making sure to spritz extra perfume. You choose to leave your hair straight, and simple makeup.

Tapping your foot against the aged wood floor, having a hard time decided between a short tight black dress or to go more casual in shorts and a cute top.

"Go with the dress." König voice reached you from your door. Startling you out of your thought, causing you to drop the dress onto the floor. König walked right in, bending down to the floor and retrieving the skimpy black dress. Still on his knees he held it up for you to grab, his head was so close to your core which was now pulsing with desire. You cheeks were flushed as you snatched it out of his grasp.

"Thanks.." you said hesitantly, turning away from him. He left you in silence, closing the door on his way out. You pulled out matching pair of lace lingerie, the ones you buried deep in your dresser. A gift from Kate, you've never worn them so todays that day you do.

You took a deep breath before stepping out into the shared common area, König's attention was on the football (American soccer) game. The click of your heels drawing his attention away. You stood their, twirling your fingers around. Shrinking under his lustful gaze. König cleared his throat, adjusting himself in his pants.

"How do I look?" you asked bashfully, the heat of your blush rising up from chest and across your face. "You look...." he was lost for words, the way the dress hugged every curve. "You look beautiful." he stood from his seat, the fabric over his crotch pulling tight against his throbbing cock. He knew he shouldn't be having these thoughts about you.

But he couldn't help himself. From the moment he set eyes on you, he was entranced.

"Give me a little spin." he commanded. Taking two long strides, taking your hand into his and giving you a little twirl. The giggle that came out of your mouth went straight to his cock.

Bzzz BZZZZZZ

The apartment buzzer rang through the space, pulling yourself away you rushed to the com system. "I'll be right down." you yelled through it. Hearing a mixture of garble coming from the other end.

"I'll probably be home late, if not I might crash at Kate's. I'll try not to wake you." the words rushed out of you as you ran around grabbing the last minute items before shuffling out the door.

König didn't get a goodbye in, or a have fun. The pit of jealously boiling up in his stomach stopped him. He watched from the livingroom as you bundled into Kate's car, watching the tail lights disappear down the street. He turned his attention back to his football game. But he couldn't focus, the ache of his cock kept plaguing his thoughts.

Usually he reserved himself to either his or the shower. But he couldn't help himself, pulling out his throbbing cock. It was already hard as a rock, the tip angry and leaking just a bit. The first few strokes had him holding his breath. He needed more, abandoning his spot on the couch, dick exposed to the air. He found himself in your room. It was smaller than his, everything was messily thrown around. He made his way right to your panties drawer, digging in the back to find the black lace panties you hid.

He came back empty handed, the thought of you wearing them under the dress had his cock leaking down the front of his pants, making a mess. He settled on a satin pair, purple in color with a small rose in the front.

Seating himself back on the couch, panties wrapped tight around his member. Stroking himself with you panties, using his knuckles to muffle out his wonton moans. He was too focused on the duty at hand. He didn't hear the door unlocking and the soft click of your heals.

You walked down the hall towards the shared living area, seeing König still on the couch. Pulling the straps of your heels off you let the loudly clank to the floor. You were a little iratated but also thankful that the night didn't go as planned.

König's head shot around, eyes wide in horror to seeing you standing behind him. If you didn't know better, it was like you caught him in the middle of something. The closer you got, you understood why.

Konig had your favourite pair of panties in his fist. His leaking tip poking out the top, as fast as it happened he through a pillow over his lap to block your view.

Stumbling backwards you rushed out some apologies. Babbling on about giving him some space.

König didn't want space at all, he wanted you. His hungry eyes watching has the hem of your dress rose up your thighs, just about exposing you ass. He stood quickly, following you into your room.

"I'm so sorry." you kept repeating. The heat of the embrassment flushed on your face. König stood there, cock out as he tried to get you to look at him.

"OMG!" you screamed, quickly averting your eyes. "Doll look at me." he tried to get you to face him but you couldn't. "Can you please put it away at least." he found your question amusing. "Why? Does it scare you?" he asked back. You scoffed at him, but deep down it did just a little.

Yes you've seen a handful of cocks before but none of them compared to König's.

"No." you said quietly.

"Why don't you touch it a bit, it won't bite." he took a small step towards you. Your stained panties still in his hand.

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LMFAO ok he got a little pervy at the end. I kinda want to make a part two now.

#cod mw2 #könig #konig #könig mw2 #konig mw2 #konig cod #könig cod #konig x reader #konig x you #könig x reader #cod konig #cod könig #könig call of duty #könig x you

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poisonheadcrabsalesman · 1 year

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Master Chief drabble inspired by @bloodgulchblog and this post. John doesn't introspect often, but when he does, it's a bit like heartburn.

It's late when John heads back to Blue Team's quarters. Briefings, reports, responsibilities; all the things Team Leader is used to shouldering seem to weigh a little heavier these days. Bad news pours in from all sides and allies seem fewer and far between.

Restlessness is not a luxury he can usually afford, but aboard the Infinity is the closest he's felt to safe in a long time. It also still means he'll patrol if possible. Even among his team, John doesn't want to spend any extra time in small rooms, and there's always work to be done.

He's not alone as he travels silently down gunmetal gray halls, but by this time most of the crew is changing shifts or used to Spartans moving. John's aware of how they look at him; the IIs move differently than the IVs but to the techs on their way to the hangars he's just another 7ft tall, 350 lbs of muscle to stay out of the way of.

Funny how being out of the armor helps him stay invisible.

There's movement down an auxiliary hallway that catches his eye, but he dismisses it when he sees troopers huddled together, handing off contraband and the like. John pauses and notes the cameras, the vents, and the blindspots. Not amateurs then, though it's hard to tell these days. They all look so young.

His eyes catch flashes of packaging before it's shoved into pockets or down shirts and the group disperses. Tobacco gum, self-lighting cigarettes, and other nicotine sources disappear along with nondescript datachips and small flasks. They don't notice him - he would have lost his touch if they had - and the group splits off, nonchalance a little too forced.

He'd make a comment, spook em a bit while he's this nameless Spartan who caught them. Some old, ugly sonuvabitch with weird eyes, too many scars popping out of the shadows wasn't a fun encounter or so he'd been told.

At least he would have if he didn't freeze in place as someone lit up and the too familiar smell of a Sweet William cigar hit his nose for the first time in over five years.

The pungent odor - old boot-sock smoked over a dung-fire - hit him full force even if the marine smoking it was down the hall. It sat in his sinuses, and the scar on his chest hurt as he jerked away.

John had known several people to have smoked those cigars - most of them were dead now. And with his luck he was there when it happened.

There were a lot of memories tied up with that scent. Johnson, of course. He had always seemed to have them on him, always smoking so much John often considered commenting about him giving them away. It was a scent that was tied to the man's presence, be it in a dropship, on the ground, or stopping by to drop off a tank. The first time John himself had tried one of the cigar, he had been 15 years old and ended up coughing so hard from the first draw that he reopened his neck wound.

Johnson had showed him how to be a leader then.

Mendez had smoked them too, and Captain Keyes. Mendez had them in his desk in his office on Reach. Halsey hadn't liked them, and like with most things, she would make her opinions clear. But that had been a lifetime ago. John didn't like to dwell on how he became what he was today. It was necessary, but the reminders of the human elements, the smoke drawing up old memories, made him uncomfortable.

He'd lived his whole life around foul-mouthed, paranoid, contraband using marines and ODSTs. He had been honored to serve with those men and women. Tobacco was passed around as often as MREs no matter the campaign. It was familiar even after all this time.

Even Captain Keyes had his pipe, the lingering scent of tobacco on the bridge of the Autumn. Cigars weren't his main staple, but John had come to associate him among the men who smoked them.

It had been forever and only a few short months since he had been in the presence of a lit Sweet William.

His chest burns, something more than regrown skin over the burn scar. He leaves - as silently as he arrived. The crewman continues to enjoy his contraband, smoke rising into the vent above, going to be scrubbed and recycled back.

Thanks for reading! There's an updated and finished version of this fic here.

#my writing #John 117 #Master Chief #halo fanfic

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art-that-fucks-you-up-tournament · 7 months

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Extra commentaries for "Untitled" (Portrait of Ross in L.A.)

a work that creates a metaphor for the loss of the artists partner by AIDS. There's a mass of candy equal to Ross at a healthy weight and gallery visitors are invited to take pieces of candy, dwindling the weight of the work to mirror Ross' drop in weight as his illness progressed. (cesiousblue)

I had to just kind of sit there trying to remember how to breathe for a few minutes after seeing it for the first time (courfeyracs-swordcane)

The themes of consumption in this work really get to me. It can be made by anyone, using the instructions of the artist, collecting a number of pieces of candy that weigh a total of 175 lbs, the weight of his partner who died that same year. This art hits me like a brick. (envelopedbyoblivion)

untitled (the one with the pile of candy) especially fucks me up bc of the extremely varied interpretations of it. my art history teacher told me that it represented someone spreading joy through ppls lives. a friend of mine said they viewed it as someone deteriorating due to aids-related complications. et cetera. either way it just feels so emotionally intense. (anonymous)

so this isn’t going to be articulated well especially since I’m not that familiar with conceptual art but I’m gonna try because I think it’s so incredible!!!! For a long time when I was younger I dismissed art like this and many pieces that fell under the modern art umbrella because I couldn’t really see the value in like, a dot on a piece of paper or what seemed like a random object placed in a room that someone decided was art for no particular reason. I never examined it and kinda dismissed it for being “low effort”, but this piece completely changed my mind and I was like holy shit I get it now! To elevate the seemingly ordinary, a pile of candy, into something so heartbreakingly meaningful, a portrait of his lover Ross who he lost to AIDS, is so meaningful! I feel like that’s so often what grief is, not the delicately crafted tributes that remind you of who you lost, but the ordinary objects that suddenly become imbued with so much meaning and sadness because they remind you of what’s been lost. It’s not to say that it’s not a delicately rendered portrait, because it is! But it’s like, not a portrait in the painting sense? It’s a snapshot of living with grief, without it it’s just a pile of candy, but when you carry that grief it becomes so much more. Another thing that I really like about this piece is that to me it’s less like a typical visual art piece and more like a song kinda? and as someone who was unfamiliar with conceptual art before seeing this, I think that’s so cool!? There is no “original” or one canvas that is The Art. If you place a pile of wrapped candies that weighs 175 pounds in a room, you now have “Untitled” (Portrait of Ross in L.A.). I realize a lot of conceptual art is like this, but this piece opened my eyes to that. I want to say more about the meaning of creating art that can persist anywhere when so many artists effected by HIV/AIDS were silenced or diminished, and how this piece also uses the audience in a really interesting way, but this is already way too long (sorry for rambling!). I really recommend reading up on this piece and it’s history. (anonymous)

A popular compliment/comment on art (at least in my tumblr circles) is 'i want to eat this art' and often it is illustrated or worded in a hedonistic tear into it wildly and animalistic eating way and thats great but this art is one I want to take one single 'bit', and let it savor on my tongue, put a hand on my stomach and think about how thankful i am to have gotten this bite. As a queer person its one of this installations i cant think about to long and not cry. I am young, too young to have lived through the AIDS crisis (as in the crisis of governments actively working against their people). Its an interactive piece of art and this kind of art always make me crazy the most (of course all art is interactive. the act of looking changes stuff already as we know from physics. looking and thinking about it is interacting) - you are invited to take one of the candy bits symbolising Ross. and on one hand that may sound horrifying to eat away a person who already had so much taken away, you take the part of the sickness of the government neglect. But as a queer person interacting i think about how matter never really goes away, things just transform. You take a piece. You eat it or share it with someone and you remember. You make him part of you. Queer community lost a lot because of AIDS but not all is lost, this work and others like the Quilt are remembrance, the galleries are stipulated to have the pile replenished - so Ross stays 'alive' and able to share bits of his history with people as long as the art work remains - and that makes me emotional (anonymous)

#art that fucks you up tournament #bonus content

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black-rose-writings · 4 months

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I've had this idea about how the show would have been massively improved by making one little change.

The show, especially it's second season, feels boring, pointless. The only driving point of the whole season 2 is to yell "Darkling Bad". They obviously don't care about established characters, the worldbuilding or lore. Definitelly not about Grisha oppression.

So, what small change would give even the slightest hint of a point and theme to it all, a theme that transcends the creators' need to shit on their most popular character?

Make Alina Aleksander's daughter.

Narratives about cycles of abuse and generational trauma are really popular these days, so instead of making it a story about shitting on the Darkling, make it a story about how Ilya being a shitty father and a mad scientist literally fucked over the rest of the world. Instead of making the show a story about destruction of Morozova's legacy, make it a story about it's redemption.

(Again, my ideal version of the story would be one that works with the themes, characters and plots of the original books and expands on them in a way LB was too much of an american lib to do, but this is "how to make the show better with as few changes as possible")

First, some tweaks to Alina's backstory to account for this change (well, giving her a backstory pre-Keramzin):

There was a more open conflict with Shu Han like 25 years ago, that required Aleksander's presence. During his stay, he spent a few nights with a local woman (possibly anonymously initially, but she did end up finding out who he was, this is important) of Shu descent (though she considered herself Ravkan). The conflict ends and much of the Dva Stolba valley falls under Shu control, giving more explanation for the tension and racism Alina experiences later. Alina's mother stays in Ravkan territory, because, again, despite her ethnicity, she considers herself to be Ravkan, and a few months after the end of that conflict, she gives birth to Alina. She does attempt to contact Aleksander, wanting him to claim the child, but he initially doesn't, both because it's impractical and because he doesn't really believe he is her father, though he does arrange for her to recieve some money.

A few years pass and Alina starts showing signs of Grisha powers, and her mother attempts to contact Aleksander again, telling him of this. She is unable to explain Alina's powers, because she knows relatively little about Grisha and has no idea how Sun Summoning would present. Aleksander does respond this time and urges Alina's mother to take her to be tested and that it would be safest for Alina to keep her parentage a secret (he still doesn't fully believe Alina is his daughter). Before Alina can be tested, however, the family gets caught in the middle of a Shu raid and Alina's mother (and maybe stepfather) are killed, and she ends up in Keramzin, now having an extra trauma reason to hide her powers (taking some inspiration from Alina's cut pre-Keramzin backstory from season 1).

Now, for the changes in season 1, those would be largely in the form of Aleksander's flashbacks and slow realisation of who Alina is. You can still keep the make-out scene/"romance" bits if you really want, because GSI (genetic sexual attraction, a syndrome/phenomenon where closely related people who have been separated for the vast majority of their life, like through adoption, deadbeat/cheating parents etc. upon meeting as adults develop an attraction to each other) is a real thing, incest in media is also unfortunately popular, of course this fucking family would do it, and antis will enjoy getting even more reason to hate Aleksander.

If we go the non-ew route, there would be some changes to the tent scene (to account for Alina being a living amplifier) and perhaps expanding/adding scenes to the journey to Os Alta, giving room to vocalize some of these differences (like explaining the living amplifier thing earlier). Maybe having Alina saying something that prompts Aleksander to be reminded of her mother, and being confused as to why at first.

Their interractions in season 1 would need to be reframed through the father-daughter lens, but it wouldn't be all that dificult, because it already has mentor-mentee undertones. Ideally, there would be a point somewhere before the Winter Fete, possibly as a catalyst for Alina's breakthrough with her powers, when he tells her who she is. It would give Alina a personal stake in the story, because she clearly doesn't give a fuck about her duties/responsibilities as a Sun Summoner in either version. She doesn't have to destroy the Fold because she's a Sun Summoner, but because she's the descendant of the Black Heretic. She's not just the savior of a country she doesn't give two shits about, but the redemption of her family.

If we want to go the "shit on Aleksander" route, nothing about his interractions with Alina would change all that much and the reveal of her parentage, at least to Alina, would come through Baghra, giving Alina more obvious emotional reason to run away and feel betrayed (especially if the almost-sex-on-the-big-map still happens, because "ew, I almost fucked my dad, who know we're related" would be infinitely more understandable of a reason to run away than what Baghra actually tells her).

Either way, the information that she isn't just a distant descendant of the Black Heretic, but his actual child, that she has a grandmother he didn't bother telling her about, that he told her they were going to redeem their family, when he only planned on continuing his work and using her for it, hits Alina like a truck. Alina going though StuffTM emotionally makes her decision to run away make a lot more sense.

Anyway, there would be very little change plotwise, just some dialogue adjustments, maybe mentioning how the Stag is her legacy, her heritage.

It would reframe Alina's fear of becoming like Aleksander, that permeates the second season, have some basis. It would give a reason for the "fuck Ilya and everything he touched and made" narrative Baghra is spinning. Baghra telling both Mal and Alina the story of her family, of why she believes now that it all much be destroyed, how her father's greed drove him to create abominations, to twist the world in unnatural ways, and she looks pointedly at the two as she says it.

Make Alina's stand against Aleksander her way of saying "the cycle of abuse in this family ends with me. I will make our family better.". Make her and Nikolai's political marriage a symbol of a new begining for Ravka in more ways than one - redemption of the Morozov(a) and Lantsov families. And bonding over "I can't tell anyone who my real dad is because it would cause trouble."

But of course, at the end, it fails, because both of them misunderstood the fundamental reason why things became as bad as they did.

IDK, I just think that changing Alina to Aleksander's daughter would improve their dynamic and a lot of the surrounding narratives massively. Even in variations other than the show.

#grishaverse #shadow and bone #shadow and bone au

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andopandor · 6 months

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On Thick Ice

My first gay gainer story, let me know what you think. Sorry for low quality images :(

After hockey practice, Oscar exits the locker room and makes his way to the exit of the arena. He's exhausted but satisfied after a hard day's practice. Standing at 6'2", Oscar is the epitome of a college ice hockey star. His long dark hair is messy from practice and his eyes are intense and focused. He has a toned athletic build, with broad shoulders and well-defined abs. But despite being known for his physical prowess, Oscar secretly wishes he could let it all go. He wants to be able to eat whatever he wants and put on the pounds like the rest of his college friends.

On his way out, Oscar bumps into Clay, who's busy closing up the arena concession stand where he works. Clay apologizes profusely, but Oscar waves it off with a smile. Both of the men had noticed each other previously, and were eager to exchange a few friendly words. As they small talk, Oscar's stomach suddenly rumbles and he realizes that it's time for his post-practice snack. Turning to Clay, he asks, "Hey, I'm really sorry, but I'm starving. Do you have any food left?"

Clay nods, always enthusiastic to help a hungry guy out. In fact, he took special pleasure in watching the college hockey team bulk up during the off-season - if only they didn't always cut again before October. "Take a seat, I've got just the thing to hit the spot after a long day of practice." With that, Clay turns around and heads to the back room of the concession stand. He quickly assembles two large, juicy cheeseburgers and a mountain of thick-cut fries. As he returns to the front counter, he can't help but steal a glance at Oscar, wondering how much he could make this handsome hockey star eat.

As Clay sets the food in front of Oscar, the athlete can't help let out a moan of delight. "God, that smells amazing," he breathes, his stomach rumbling loudly. He quickly digs in, taking huge bites of the burger and swallowing fries two at a time. He lets out satisfied grunts between each bite, feeling the weight of the food settle comfortably in his belly.

As Oscar tucks into his meal, Clay feels a little thrill watching him enjoy it so much. He clears his throat, suddenly feeling a bit bold. "So, you know, if there's anything else you're in the mood for, just let me know. I mean, we've got soda, shakes, ice cream... it's on the house." He smiles, hoping he's not being too forward.

Oscar pauses mid-chew, his cheeks still bulging with food. He swallows and looks up at Clay, a mischievous glint in his eye. "Oh really? You know, I've always had a thing for your banana milkshakes... and I wouldn't mind having it nice and thick, with extra whipped cream." He licked his lips, his gaze never leaving Clay's. "Would you be able to make that for me?"

There's an electric charge in the air as Clay holds Oscar's gaze for a second longer. He wonders if Oscar is as into this as he is, feeling a rush of excitement at the idea of this handsome hockey star throwing away his toned body over Clay's food. A flush creeps up Clay's neck as he mentally pictures Oscar 50 lbs heavier. He nods, unable to form words for a moment.

"Yes, yes, of course! I'd be happy to make that for you." Clay hurries to the counter, grabbing two glasses and a pitcher of ice cream from the back. He pours the thick, creamy mixture into the glasses, topping them off with whipped cream and a cherry. He places the shakes in front of Oscar and lingers a moment, watching Oscar take the first sip. The way the athlete closes his eyes in pleasure, softly moaning around the straw... it's all too much for Clay. He returns to the service counter, trying to regain his composure.

As Oscar takes another sip of his shake, he notices that Clay is a bit flustered. He decides to tease the concession worker a bit, seeing how cute he looks when he's turned on. With a satisfied groan, Oscar takes a big stretch, his jersey riding up to reveal his expanding stomach. He slaps it a few times contentedly. "Mmm... that feels good," he murmurs, grinning at Clay's wide-eyed expression. "It's amazing any of us are still fit enough to play, with you working here." He takes another deep sip, savoring the taste and the power he has over the concession worker.

Clay's heart pounds in his chest as he watches Oscar slowly rub his stomach. He's almost certain that Oscar is purposefully playing with his emotions, but he needs to make sure. "So, Oscar," he asks, "did you have plans after practice, or...?"

Oscar only smiles and lifts an eyebrow, inviting Clay to continue.

"Or do you want to hang around and... I can show you around the kitchen?"

Clay knows it's a transparent excuse to move somewhere more private, but when he sees the spark in Oscar's eyes, he can tell that the athlete understands his implications exactly. With a nod and a grin that promises all kinds of mischief, Oscar stands and follows Clay to the back room of the concession stand.

As Oscar walks, he can feel his newly bloated belly filling out his compression shirt in a way it's never done before. As the fabric brushes against the smooth skin, Oscar is surprised to feel a hard-on growing against his pants. He's already stuffed to his limit, yet strangely he wants more.

The back room is dimly lit and quiet, offering the two men some privacy. The air between them crackles with anticipation, both waiting for the other to make the first move. Clay speaks up first. "You can sit down over there, I've got something for you." Clay has noticed the athlete's round belly and developing erection, and decides that it's his turn to take charge.

Clay disappears into the shadows for a moment, only to emerge with a large flat box in his hands. "What's in there?" Oscar asks.

Clay smirks. "I have all these warm chocolate chip cookies that won't be any good tomorrow. If no one eats them, we'll just have to throw them away..."

Oscar peers inside the box. There are around two dozen in there. His erection presses harder at the thought of eating them all. He laughs, a warm sound that sends shivers down Clay's spine. His voice is husky with desire. "Well, I guess we should find a way to get rid of those cookies then. Good thing I always have room for dessert."

Suddenly, Oscar pulls Clay onto his lap with surprising strength. Clay gasps, feeling Oscars growing body pressed against his own. He can feel the athlete's erection warm against his thigh, and he knows his own is equally obvious at this point. He takes one of the fresh, buttery cookies and holds it up against Oscar's lips. Oscar chews and swallows it greedily, and then another. And another.

In between devouring cookies, Oscar peels off his practice jersey and pulls up the shirt underneath, allowing his distended belly to breathe. Clay begins to massage Oscar's stomach, feeling its warmth and solidity. "Don't eat too much," he warns, his voice teasing. "You don't want to get fat, do you?"

Oscar groans, his belly tingling against Clay's soft touch. "I will be, if you keep feeding me," he manages to say through a mouthful of cookie. He takes another bite, and another, relishing the feel of Clay's hands over his expanse of skin. The athlete moans deeply with desire, enjoying both the soft, creamy cookies and Clay's gentle touch.

Not long later, to both of their shock, there are only four cookies left. Oscar's belly is solid as rock and feels like it has doubled in diameter. "Fuck, I'm full... I can't eat any more," he complains, but Clay lifts another cookie to his lips. He can tell that Clay won't stop feeding him until he's eaten every cookie in the box - and deep inside, Oscar wants to give up all control to Clay, to let him destroy his athletic body.

Clay smirks, relishing the power he has over Oscar at this point. Another two cookies move from the box into Oscar's stomach. "Maybe just one more," Oscar murmurs, closing his eyes and opening his mouth in anticipation.

As Clay feeds Oscar the last cookie, his other hand finds its way down to Oscar's crotch, feeling the heat and hardness through his hockey shorts. His fingers move to undo the straps and strings.

As his pants spill open, Oscar's round belly swells, finally free to take up its proper space. With the release in pressure, Oscar moans in pain and pleasure. "I'm fucking stuffed," he gasps, his voice thick with lust.

Clay's hand finds its way to Oscar's cock, hard through his boxers, teasing it. Oscar arches forward, offering himself to the other man. He is unbelievably aroused. "Please," he whispers, "let me fuck you.

Clay's fingers dance across Oscar's tight belly, tracing patterns that ignite a fire in his groin. Clay leans in, kissing Oscar's neck, his lips trailing down to his collarbone. "You're so fucking fat and gorgeous," he whispers, "I want to feel you on me, feel your weight on top of me." He continues to massage both Oscar's belly and cock, moving faster now, his touch more urgent. He pulls down the waistband of Oscar's underwear, revealing his cock, hard and ready. "I want to feel you inside of me."

Their eyes meet, and in that moment, the tension snaps. They both know what needs to happen next. With a growl, Oscar grabs Clay's hair and pulls him close, their lips crashing in a fierce kiss. Clay feels Oscar's swollen body against his, feels the hockey player's inflated torso against his own. He gasps as Oscar's thick cock slides inside him. He pushes back against Oscar, meeting his thrusts with equal fervor.

Yet his hands remain on Oscar's thick belly, exploring its girth. He can't believe that this is really happening. He did this. He made Oscar grow like this. He has never been so turned on in his life. He can feel the other man's control slipping, feel the desperation building inside him. He wants it to go on forever, but he knows neither of them can last much longer.

With a final urgent thrust, Oscar releases inside of Clay, and Clay finishes moments later, spilling across Oscar's smooth belly. Oscar pants heavily to catch his breath, his gut heaving. Clay leans forward to kiss Oscar, feeling his massive dome of a belly underneath him. They remain there for a while, feeling the weight of each other, the warmth of their skin, the rhythm of their breath.

After a moment, Clay carefully disentangles himself from Oscar and helps him straighten up, a challenging task with his belly in the way. Oscar leans into Clay, kissing him softly on the lips. "That was... incredible."

Clay flushes, but can't help the smile spreading across his face. "See you next week after practice, then?"

#gainer fiction #gainer stories #gay gainer #gay belly #gainerstory #male weight gain #wg story #stuffing

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littlelyarts · 1 year

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Haha hey funny post to make, but

(and could maybe use some help!)

So, a bit of background. Me and my gf have been together for almost 4 years now, and we've been long distance that whole time with sparse meetups. Recently though, my gf got some help in getting an apartment!

I've been doing my part here to get ready to move in with her, getting a 2.5 lb breast tumor removed, finally putting in my 2 weeks at my job, and sorting out what to ship and how. I booked the flight the other night, ready to go, but my parents needed me to move it to a date 2 weeks later. I already had everything set up to move sooner though.

This means I have an extra few weeks without a job and being stuck at home

This is where the help comes in though! Due to all this, I decided to set up my Ko-Fi for donations and commission info! Course money will help a lot since the job issue, but commissions will be nice too since it'll give me motivation to wake up and do things while being stuck here until the big move

Here's a Ko-Fi link right to my commission page, but I also have commission info here on my tumblr too! (Or you can click here if you're on mobile)

It's okay if you can't donate or commission me, warm wishes will do me wonders too <3 this is my first step as an independent adult, and i'm very excited for it!

(check out below for some of my art examples! :) )

(Make sure you click my links up there for my TOS! they're not too serious really but they're helpful!)

$5 for chibi icons/discord emotes (can have colored lineart with no polish fee)

$10 Symmetrical busts

$15 headshots/busts

$20 halfbodies

$25 fullbodies

$35 bust/headshot animations

$40 Chibi animations (can't be shaded)

$50 fullbody animations

Any piece you get can become polished for an extra $10! Polished means you can choose to get an effect with your lineart or get shading! You can get one of each, or just one! however you want to see your art done!

(while wobble lined art cant get shading, it can have colored lines and minimal highlights!)

thanks for reading this far! i hope you consider getting some art! :3

#my art #commissions open #oc #furry #anthro #monster girl

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pangtasias-atelier · 1 year

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Can I make a request for Gilliam and Garcia mutual gaining in a domestic setting (without ross of course) both at around 500 lbs, with Garcia having a bigger gut and Gilliam being chubbier all around, appreciating each others gains? Thank you

Ahhhhh I definitely struggled with this one ajsnjsb. I do very much like the pairing, I just think I've legit never used either of them in like all 7 of my playthroughs lmao.

I hope you enjoy it regardless cause I did have fun writing it after looking up all their supports ajnjbhns

Warning: This is a fetish story!

In a small yet lively cottage that mostly everyone in the bustling border town knows of, its two residents are the very cause of such an atmosphere. The residence is nearly the exact same as all its neighbors; like all the rest, the house is built from a combination of Frelia's fine lumber from its abundant forests and Renais' rich minerals derived from its vast mountains.

Despite the average appearances, its occupants are anything but average looking.

The two married men are busy in the kitchen. The room is currently being made a mess while also being cleaned up at the same time with both of the men working together.

Gilliam has his back to the stove. Clearly enjoying the peacetime in Frelia, his figure has bloated out. His trusty pants cover up the entire expanse of his blubbery rear. Standing at an impressive stature next to even tall men, Gilliam's height is made extra impressive with his weight. Weighing 508 pounds —last he checked two weeks back— that came about from extensive sessions involving food and groping. The entire shape of his ass is outlined by his tight clothes, every fold and roll of his plump, shapely ass visible for Garcia to gaze upon just by turning around. Gilliam's entire figure is rotund, his lovingly stuffed figure eagerly accepting the extra weight everywhere. The width of Gilliam's hips are almost the same measurement as the kitchen sink; his thighs fill out his pants. Gilliam's large thighs bulge from his weight, the upper half of his thighs straining against the fabric much more than his smaller yet still doughy lower half of his thighs and calves. His thighs squish together from Gilliam’s feet brought together.. It’s a bit difficult to see just how smushed Gilliam’s thighs are with his plentiful ass fat blocking the view, though.

Not that Garcia minds, turning away from his task to give it a playful smack. “You almost done? I’ve got a couple more things ready for you,” Garcia asks. Two turners in his right hand, he reaches around Gilliam to dump them with the last remaining dirty dishes. Garcia gets a handful of Gilliam’s stomach, his own flabby arm covered and sinking into his husband’s blubbery gut as he hugs him with his right arm. Garcia also gets to feel the back of his husband but his gut does most of the feeling. Garcia’s stomach is absolutely immense; the large flabby sack of fat is the retired warrior’s largest feature.

“I’m getting there. It’s a bit difficult,” Gilliam faces down at the last few utensils left despite his husband’s distractions. Gilliam’s difficulty comes from his own size. With him being rather tall, he always had the issue of several things not being made with people his own height in mind. And now with his growing waistline from too many binges —sessions that involve being fed or feeding or both more often than not— Gilliam’s troubles with things being too small are only doubled.

The kitchen sink forces Gilliam to stand at a slightly awkward angle. His thighs come up to the countertop which didn’t use to be too much of a problem before, nothing that a slight hunch or bending couldn’t fix. But his bigger, rather large belly makes it a bigger problem. His large belly sags down to rest on the counter despite it being tucked behind his shirt. Which, when combined with cleaning dishes makes for not the best of combinations. So Gilliam takes his time washing dishes and stands an extra few inches back from the counter. A few drops of soapy water do manage to collide with his belly and the lower roll of his stomach flab is damp from the splashes of water that manage to wet the countertop that his belly does inevitably touch whenever Gilliam reaches forward to grab something.

Garcia also makes washing the dishes a bigger issue than it usually is.

His husband cooking behind him, the two’s kitchen was clearly not made with two obese men in mind. Garcia pigging out just as much as Gilliam, if not more, left him at around the same weight as his husband. At least a whole quarter tonner of a man according to last month’s weigh in, Garcia’s slightly shorter stature has him looking much rounder than Gilliam. A large portion of his weight went to his over bloated stomach, the large gut representative of his new eating habits. Garcia wears his white shirt untucked. His gut spills out from his shirt, the hairy expanse of his lower gut exposed. His chest isn’t that far behind his gut in terms of size. The two large breasts spill out of the shirt’s extremely low neckline; his doughy, hairy chest pressed up against the neckline that struggles to hold back his meaty chest. Not that Garcia minds, the warrior proud of his weight. Though he does move around carefully while he cooks, always mindful of his wobbling belly as he takes slow waddles to adjust himself. His thighs help him move around slowly, the two thick legs crammed with enough fat at his weight to make sure he has to swing one meaty thigh past the other just to walk now. His thighs are free for the most part; Garcia wears a pair of ill fitting shorts. The fat on his thighs curve inward from the tight fit along with his ass. His ass bulges out from the small clothes.

Next to Giliam, Garcia is completely underdressed. A fact that he takes a complete advantage of.

“The food’s almost done. Shouldn’t you be hurrying up?” Garcia slots himself right up next to Gilliam. He bumps his husband with his large hip. Like gelatin slapping gelatin, neither of the now jiggling men end up moving from their spot. Garcia’s gut spills onto the counter, the cool material nice on the underside of his belly that envelops and smothers the countertop.

Gilliam keeps scrubbing at the used pan. “You slow cook everything. The meat won’t be ready for another thirty minutes,”

“And it’ll taste great cause I made it. You don’t get to be this big without knowing your way around a meal,” He pats his belly, the large pile of blubber wobbling in return. Garcia reaches for a kitchen rag and starts drying at all the pans and utensils Gilliam has washed. He makes sure to dry extra vigorously; his blubbery arms that are still as big as his days as a warrior wobble, his biceps filled with lard instead of muscle now.

Gilliam keeps a straight face as he now rinses the sink, all the dishes now washed.. But, he does glance over to see Garcia’s nonsense every once in a while.

Garcia dries the larger dishes now. He uses his gut for leverage, his doughy stomach sinking under the weight of the pans as Garcia makes sure to remove every last drop of water. Clearly not careful to remove most of the water immediately, Garcia’s already tight top is wet. His skin begins to show through the translucent fabric.

Gilliam pats at his forehead with the hand towel as he finishes his task of cleaning. His task finally complete, he focuses his attention over to his husband. Which he nearly snorts at with a grin.

“You’re finally taking some time to look at what a handsome husband you have?” Garcia grins right back. He also puts down the pan he dries, already done drying it some time ago.

“I always have time,” Gilliam brings himself closer. He pushes at Garcia with his gut, slowly using his bulk to turn his husband while also guiding him with his blubbery left arm. “But if I don’t do the chores my husband asks me to do, then what does that make me?”

Garcia allows himself to be guided by Gilliam. Their guts touch up against each other, both of their stomachs smushed as they take slow waddles. “It’d mean you're not such a hard-ass,” Garcia smiles when he sees a blush form on Gilliam’s face.

“Then I guess I won’t listen when you tell me to eat another plate,” Gilliam quips back.

“Like you need the encouragement,”

“Neither do you,”

His retort thrown back at him, all Garcia can do is laugh. “Guess all we can do is blame ourselves then. Not that I have any complaints,” Their left hands still interlocked, two sets of pudgy fingers happily held together, Garcia uses his free hand to grasp at the other’s belly. His thumb in Gilliam’s belly button, Garcia’s palm is smothered in belly flab as he holds the underside of such a doughy gut.

“I have no complaint,” Gilliam’s smile widens as he reaches the wall, well, as Garcia reaches the wall, his husband’s ass pinned to it. He himself stands a couple feet away from it with both of them so round and taking up so much space. Gilliam uses the extra couple of inches of height he has on his husband to pin him to the wall. Which he doesn’t even need to use, Garcia allowing himself to be in such a position.

“You thinking what I’m thinking?” Garcia asks. He gives Gilliam’s belly a small shake, staring at the way his husband’s belly slowly jiggles like waves crashing onto a beach.

Gilliam does his best to reach around both his and Garcia’s guts to grope his husband's ass. “We are tied once again. You want to break my winning streak?”

Garcia grins at the touch before suddenly becoming stiff. “Not if the food burns!”

Giving his husband a kiss, Gilliam presses both his hands on Garcia’s gut, reaching underneath his shirt to rub at it. But only for a brief moment, pushing himself off his husband by using his massive belly as leverage. As swiftly as he can move out of the way, lugging one large thigh past the other, he does his best to make enough room for Garcia. “I’ll set the plates,”

“Good, I’m starving so I’m sure you must be too,” Garcia rests a hand on Gilliam’s belly as he waddles past him, his fingers slowly grazing over the soft, blubbery stomach.

After Garcia makes his way through, Gilliam waddles over to the cupboards. “Make sure you eat everything,” He pulls out extra large dishes, the set purchased to allow them to eat more per serving.

“I’ll gladly eat my fill as long as you do. I know you can’t resist my cooking,” He slowly brings the pot roast over to the already set table.

The table really mostly meant for the two of them, the furniture is made extra long for the two to sit side by side. Though now they have to sit across from each other, the poor bench most likely not able to withstand an entire half ton of weight. As Garcia places the pot roast and goes back to retrieve the other side dishes, he smiles at his eager husband already sitting down.

As Garcia sits down and makes himself comfortable —after adjusting his gut multiple times— the two grin at each other in anticipation.

Neither wait for a single confirmation. Instead, they dig in and start their competition, both somehow even more eager and competitive now when it comes to eating compared to their arm wrestling so many years ago. Not that either mind, the obese married men content with each other.

#my writing #fat emblem #ssbhm #feeder emblem #fat fiction #male weight gain #maleweightgain

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iatethem · 18 days

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THANK YOU TO @skzoologist AND @dean-a-mean-tae !! THEY BOTH GAVE ME IDEAS AND TIPS :]

☆ General ☆

Name: Asher Hutch (애셔 허치)

Stage Name: Ash (재)

Nickname/s (used by members/family/friends): Cuddles, Ashy, Koala

Nickname/s (used by STAY): Hutchy, Teddy

Date of Birth: June 26, 2003

Zodiac Sign: Cancer

Place of Birth: Bonn, Germany

Ethnicity: German-Korean

Height: 5’6” (167.64 centimeters)

Weight: 137.6 lbs (62.4 kg)

☆ Face ☆

Hair (length and original color): Black, prefers to keep mid-neck

Eyes: Left: blue, Right: green

Extras (blemishes, scars, etc.): Freckles sort of like Felix’s; all over his cheeks and nose, a mole on the upper right corner of his lip

☆ Facts ☆

He’ll mindlessly bounce his leg up and down or tap his foot, when he comes to his senses though, he’ll stop, fearing he was bothering someone with the constant subtle ‘click click’ noise

He has a kitten and is always looking forward to seeing him when he gets back to his home

He was 15 when Skz debuted

He trained for 2-ish years

He loves listening to girl groups and giving them support, his favorite is (G)I-DLE.

He has a very feminine sneeze but no one really knows why nor do they really mind, they just find it funny (his siblings and friends)

Ash has a younger brother and 2 older twin sisters, his brother is named Parker and his sisters are Tatum and Hayden

He used to wear brown contacts because he was self-conscious of his heterochromia

He has naturally pink cheeks

He has a baby-blue bunny that he can’t sleep without

When he got a phone for the first time, his sister Hayden, got him a Miku phone case so when that phone died for good, he was really sad but only because of the phone case (luckily though, he got a similar, if not better, Miku phone case and has it on his phone now)

If he’s sick in bed with nothing to do, he’ll mosey into the living room or a room with a comfortable laying place with a TV and either binge The Seven Deadly Sins or South Park

He keeps his 3 friendship bracelets on from his best friend whom he met in 6th grade and will often call that friend despite the time difference

If he had to marry a male idol who wasn’t in his group, he’d pick Beomgyu from TXT

He’s very afraid of any bug unless it’s the common beetle which isn’t very common for him because he’s only found them about 1-2 times

He kept most of his essays from 7th-8th grade because he missed all the teachers from those grades

He’ll cry for no reason whatsoever and will likely cry more when someone asks him what’s wrong because he has no idea why he’s crying, he just is

Once, in 7th grade, he jokingly asked his science teacher for a Diet Coke and she gave him one but she told him to not tell anyone or let anyone see it because she technically wasn’t allowed to give soda to students.

He hates wearing clothes so he’ll often wear shorts and a tank top unless he’s outside in fall-winter

Speaking of seasons, his favorite is Fall

If he had to pick between Pepsi and Coke, he’d easily pick Coke, specifically Wild Cherry Coke

Back at his home, he has almost 3 walls of squish mallows and even more that are crowding under his bed and on his bed

He used to be horrified of thunderstorms but after he hadn’t had one in a while, he was really happy when he found out that around his area, a very gnarly one was going to hit in a few days (but soon regretted it and went back to being scared)

If he could, he’d adopt a bear cub and raise it as his own baby, preferably a brown bear

His friends make fun of him (playfully of course) for cosplaying so many female or feminine characters like Felix Argyle/Ferris, Elizabeth Lionis, and Grelle

He gets his nails done professionally every few weeks and if he gets bored of the design but doesn’t have time to get them done professionally, he’ll ask on of the other members to help him paint them because of how shaky he is

He gets really happy whenever he finds a Cotton Candy Bang energy drink because he can never find them anywhere

He uses the 🩵 emoji the most

He gets really happy when he sees blue as it's his favorite color

I would add so much more but this is getting long

☆ Skzoo ☆

Representative Emoji: 🐻

Skzoo:

(Ignore the goofy ah skzoo art, I got mad at it and almost dropped the idea)

#skz #stray kids #skzoo #skz oc #art #skzoo art #oc #original character #kinda based off of someone...#the korean might be a little wrong bc I used google translate...#I could rant abt him for AGES

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where-theres-smoak-2 · 1 year

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I have a question: if the books were written today, do you think the author would have a bigger inclination towards Alina and the Darkling actually ending up together? I don’t know if you’ve seen the original promo for those books, but it used to be called A Gathering Dark. The promo was in the woods, with shots of our iconic Darklina quotes and then it ended with an image of the Darkling with the line A Dark Heart and then of Alina with the line A Pure Soul and then it closed off with “A Love That Will Last Forever. Forever.” I mean if this was truly the original vision then people who ship darklina aren’t crazy after all. Maybe the show runners are poking that possibility a little bit? For characters to lean into their dark sides, become more morally grey. It is the trend after all with these books nowadays. The Darkling is like one of the OG, if not the OG, tall dark handsome powerful man in fantasy fiction no?

Honestly I don't know if the books being written today would have made a difference or not, there does seem to be this strange questioning over morality in fiction that I've never seen before and the morality police can be very loud and tv producers and authors etc do seem to be extra cautious with not having anything that could lead to bad press or controversy. But on the flipside there is still a love for the morally grey characters as well, like magneto, loki, damon, klaus, the mountain etc, and of course Aleks himself. So who knows if it being written today would have made an impact or not.

I do think you raise an interesting point about the original promotion of the book though. For those who don't know or haven't seen it the shadow and bone book was originally called 'The Gathering Dark' and this was the original cover:

That had that tagline, 'A dark heart. A pure soul. A love that will last forever.' There is also a youtube promo video from waterstones from 10 years ago promoting the book under its original name that as Anon mentioned had a series of darklina quotes such as 'I've been waiting for you for a long time.' 'You and I are going to change the world.' 'The problem with wanting is that it makes us weak.' Followed by that dark heart, pure soul, love that will last forever tagline. It's here if anyone wants to watch it for themselves: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=yocxvTZ1gp0. Considering it is only darklina quotes its obvious that they were using darklina as a romantic pairing to promote this book. I've seen a few antis making comments about how LB always planned to have M*lina as endgame and that can be seen because she starts the books with the whole the boy and the girl prologue and ends it with the boy and the girl epilogue. But they seem to fail to see how if this is the case, that the author always meant to have M*lina as the centre of the story and be this epic love and endgame, then it makes them using darklina in these promotions even worse, darklina fans were baited and used to sell the books, plain and simple. Honestly the more I see of the promotion of the books when they were first released the more I understand why darklina book fans were upset and angry at the ending, because they really were baited hard. It's crazy to me that antis can see these promotions and still not get why darklinas were upset and still say they were crazy for thinking darklina might end up together. I mean if somebody puts a load of romantic quotes from a ship together with a tag line love that will last forever any normal person is going to assume that its in reference to that ship and that ship's love is in fact going to last forever.

As for the showrunners maybe poking at the possibility of darklina, its possible, I do think they have put alot of effort into making Aleks more complex and human, plus they are adding the corruption arc for Alina so all of this could be to open up some doors to explore darklina a bit more.

#darklina #anti malina #anti leigh bardugo #answered

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tvrningout-a · 8 months

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body headcanons | ft. chiyoko hisakawa

height: 5'1'' or 155 cm

weight: 120 lbs or 54.4 kg

chiyo has little muscle other than whatever she's gained from day-to-day activities, so it isn't visible or defined -- in other words, she's all soft lines and squishy thighs. she has an hourglass shape with more or less even proportions, though her stomach, butt, and thighs tend to take on any extra weight that she might gain. of course, if interacting in a universe in which chiyo is forced to train her body ( such as her isekai au, s.piderverse au, d.gm au, etc. ), things change a little.

cup size: b cup

butt shape: a-shaped

measurements (bust, waist, hips): 34in, 26 in, 36in (86cm-66cm-91cm)

daily exercise: heavily varies upon verse; in main, walks to most locations, so we'll say a few hours most days.

as mentioned, chiyo's measurements are nearly equal with her waist being the most narrow part of her body; as such, she has an a-shapped butt, meaning her waist tapers and the fullest part of her rear is the bottom. somewhere between an endomorph and mesomorph, chiyo will gain and lose weight somewhat easily, which is why as she grows older, she tries to be more conscious of what she eats ( though, she isn't really complaining if her thighs get a little bigger ).

nsft.

most sensitive area: thighs, especially the inner thighs

sensitive area(s): scalp, mouth/lips, and hands

shaves or waxes? waxing scares her asdf so chiyo shaves.

stole this from @vonerde!

#i'm not great at imagining very specific body types for my characters so this was really helpful!#tw suggestive #just in case bc of the last section uvu #headcanons | chiyoko

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bobbinacrossafricatake2 · 7 days

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En Route

May 14-15, 2024

We thought this day would never arrive…..wheels up! Hurrah, we’re on our way!

It’s not clear who was more relieved to be done with all of the trip prep, Jillebob or Sebbie. The worst of it, of course, was making sure our respective jobs were fully covered while we are gone. For Seb, that meant finding coverage for her clients, whether in the middle of a real estate transaction or not. Because in real estate, things happen all the time so being ready at the drop of a hat is the name of the game. Updating and collecting records, passing relevant information to the colleagues backing her up, making introductions, ugh - it’s a lot! For Jill, it meant spending a year working extra time to offset a full month of flexible time off (the new policy of non-accruing leave her company imposed, just as we finalized plans for the trip) and making sure her various tasks were at a point where she did not feel too bad walking away and leaving them in the very capable hands of her terrific colleagues.

But that’s just the beginning. Yikes, the packing! Our most restrictive weight limit is 33 lbs, luggage and carry-on together. We managed to coordinate some electronic stuff, to eliminate redundancy of things we could share. But even so, the priority items are heavy so 33 lbs adds up quickly: cameras, binoculars, iPad and keyboard, sunscreen, bug spray, etc. And even though we plan to use the soap and shampoo provided, there are still personal toiletries that are a must. And all that’s before clothing. Sarah was talking about this packing dilemma to (her neighbor) Lauren’s friend, Ken, to which he replied, “oh, so it’s a clothing optional trip, huh?” Indeed, if not truly clothing optional, it was extra shirts, packing cubes, a few extra socks and such that went into the reject pile. Pack-weigh-remove a few items and repeat… and repeat… and repeat. And a lot of commiserating and consulting with each other. You get the idea. In the end, we’re each pretty close to 33 lbs. No major shopping on this trip! Well, until the very end.

After a few days of Sarah spending time with her housemate for the summer, Elizabeth, to get her situated and Fergie passed to Kim’s loving care for a month, Sarah jumped into an Uber with duffel and carry-on, and headed toward Jill’s place. Jill was waiting at the door and onward we went to Dulles. Richard, our Uber driver, was delightfully chatty. We were giddy with anticipation and it made the journey fast. Jill found it quite therapeutic to wave at her office building as the Uber drove by. We were super early, plenty of time for a glass of wine and catch up on our last preparations and excitement over the trip. We found ourselves pondering what if we never took that first trip to Ireland when we barely knew each other. Would either of had made the trips we’ve done — India, China/Tibet, South Africa/Botswana/Rwanda/Kenya, Churchill, and Galapagos/Costa Rica? We could agree… maybe we would have, but we would have missed out the best travel buddy thing going, and it wouldn’t have been as fun.

Man, it’s a long way to Johannesburg, South Africa! Seven hours across the pond to Amsterdam and another ten going south. When one factors in transportation on either side, it’s over 24 hours door-to-door. We each slept very little on the first flight and more on the second, seemingly more comfortable flight. The layover in Amsterdam was easy - such a nice airport and good opportunity to get at least a little walking in! As our pilot walked up to the gate to board our flight to Johannesburg, a flight attendant asked everyone to give him a hand for his last flight before retirement! We were clearly in good, experienced hands! Movies to entertain, a few magazines, pretty good food, and we made it to the other side.

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kariachi · 5 months

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A common domesticated species on Kinet is a hibernating reptiloid kept primarily as 'winter' fare.

Well, technically it's not one species but several related species (imagine if every continent had their own distinct type of 'dog' that had each descended from a local canine species, similar thing but with something more akin to if a tortoise and a tegu had a little too much to drink at the valentines dance) but people tend to just lump them together as variations of the same thing.

These mostly solitary critters protect themselves from Kinet's storms by being a burrowing species, feeding primarily by consuming roots from below, pulling small plants into their burrows, and snatching up passing critters. Most wild specimens of these species patrol territories with multiple burrows within them, but a few and the domestic versions more often have just one burrow. For the domestic species these are typically provided by Kinecelerans, who'll bury burrow structures with ceilings to each room that can be removed for easy access. The central 'tunnel' portions will be more loose construction, made up of permeable material that things like roots can work down through over time, with fields and gardens typically planted over the lot.

This allows you to plant things they won't eat with things they will, feeding your livestock, guarding the crops you want from land pests, and engaging in companion planting all at the same time. Very efficient.

Aside from checking their health and leaving out food at the start of 'spring', ensuring there's water access, the critters mostly tend to themselves from there. Sometimes you have to bury large rocks around the lot at preferred digging depth to discourage them building their own rooms you can't easily get to, or drive off predators before they can start trouble, and you may want to leave out extra food before the weather gets cold to put some more weight on them, but for the most part you can just let them be.

In areas without harsh winters they're more kept for their eggs, and the breeds you see reflect that, but through most of the planet they're kept for meat. As winter carries on, these critters are used as living larders, dug up and eaten over the course of the season until food becomes more readily available. It's common practice to keep track of which burrows which of your critters are using, prioritizing young males that don't show noteworthy promise, under-performers, and elderly animals.

While typically kept for meat or eggs, they're also sometimes kept as pets or show animals. Breeds dedicated to this tend to smaller, and there are some 'bantam' as we may call it varieties of non-dedicated breeds. In the pet trade females are more popular if one is keeping multiple animals, as they're less aggressive towards each other while males become very aggressive among themselves during mating season. Overall, however, males are more popular for show and pets both, due to more vibrant coloration, used as a way to display for females. This factoid does not, however, apply to one species, where in every breed the males and females are both colorful, their wild ancestors having engaged in batesian mimicry.

Sizes can vary widely based on species and breed, with the smallest males growing to 4 ft and weighing about 30 lbs while the largest females grow to be 8 ft and nearly 300 lbs. Females tend to be 15-20% larger than males.

#kinecelerans

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hernando-valdez · 1 year

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"Did you get a contractor or you did this all yourself?" Hernando's smile was soft as he walked around Parker's apartment and took it all in. It was a little surreal to be spending time with Parker without a time limit. Without the inevitable end of the summer looming and their friendship going back to AIM messages and emails. But now that he was actually living in Tonopah Falls, he was finding that maybe he had more friends here than anyone else. It was hard to think of a time when he didn't know Parker. She was one of the few people he could be around and truly forget about the rest of his life. Of course inevitably something would come up but somewhere along the way they had this unwritten rule that they didn't have to talk about anything Sons or LB related. They could just talk about the simple things, the every day things, the things that reminded them they were actual people living and breathing in the world. He didn't know how much he was craving that until he was standing in her apartment now. He loved Los Bandoleros, more than anything in his life but with his father's absence, an unsettling feeling had made a home in the pit of his stomach and he didn't know how to get rid of it.

"I'm just asking cause we may need someone for the B&B. I love doing shit with Penny but I'm sure some extra hands would speed it up and make sure it doesn't topple down on us, you know? My house I've been doing on my own. I can't wait to have you over, you're gonna love it. It's kind of wild to have my own house, you know?" Back in New York Hernando had been splitting his time between his parents apartment and his own little apartment in Brooklyn. It was nothing compared to the space he had now. "Anyway, you ready to go? Time for you to be my Tonopah tour guide," he teased, throwing his arm around her shoulders and pressing a kiss to her temple. "You miss me?" @parkerana

#c: parker

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sweetsmellosuccess · 2 years

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TIFF 2022: Day 5

Films: 5 Best Film Of The Day: Aftersun

The Whale: The hype out of Venice about the lead performance of Brendan Fraser (where he was regaled with a six-minute standing ovation) is absolutely on-point. Playing Charlie, a 600-lb. online English teacher in Darren Aronofsky’s melodrama, set entirely within a dumpy Idaho apartment, he is the anchor, so to speak, of the film’s emotional core.The screenplay, adapted by Samuel D. Hunter from his own play, retains much of the type of uber-emotional bloodletting that tends to play better on the heightened intensity of a live stage than on celluloid (or the digital equivalent). There are monologues laced with a variety of undistilled emotions, wild swings from joyous laughter to unbridled fury, and, as a means of dispensing information, near-direct question and answer sessions, where important details are imparted. There is also Ellie (Sadie Sink), the angry, unbridled 16-year-old daughter of Charlie, who arrives in his apartment for the first time since he left her and her mother for one of his male students eight years before, and comes across as a fierce, white-hot playwright device (“How much will you pay me?” she demands when she first shows up). Fortunately, these melodramatics don’t seem to infect Fraser, who’s performance is so understated and unblemished you care like hell for his character despite the script's verbal contortions. When we first see him, Aronofsky (a diretor not at all averse to putting his characters through the wringer, physically and otherwise) has positioned him in the worst possible light: Sitting on his ratty couch, pleasuring himself to gay porn, and nearly killing himself in the process. Interrupted by a kindly missionary (Ty Simpkins), who wants to win his soul over to the lord, we begin to take in a more complete idea of the character: For all his impossible girth, and despair, he turns out not to be voracious just for the buckets of chicken and meatball subs with extra cheese hand delivered to him by his friend, Liz (Hong Chau), he’s voracious for everything, including literature and other peoples’ stories. He’s an exceedingly kind and compassionate man — to everyone, it would seem, other than himself, whom he punishes with great masses of unhealthy food and pitiless self-hatred — which makes his plight, as the script makes it abundantly clear, a response to the death of his life-partner, who couldn’t deal with his father’s estrangement and starved himself to death. Naturally, over the course of the five weekdays the film is subdivided into, Charlie must rectify his relationship with his estranged daughter, filled with rage and hate towards him, as well as the world at large, and make his own peace before his congenital heart failure finally kills him.

Alice, Darling: A film that feels possibly more like a personal catharsis than an actual narrative feature at times, Mary Nighty’s film start Anna Kendrick — who just gave an interview where she talked about being in a verbally abusive relationship — as a young woman in just such a power dynamic, who needs an intervention from her friends to pull herself out of her emotional death spiral. Kendrick plays the titular Alice, who lives with her successful but neurotically needy artist boyfriend, Simon (Charlie Carrick), whose smug, knowing smile tends to dominate his interactions with other human beings. She reluctantly agrees to go on a girls’ trip with her two best friends, played by Kaniehtiio Horn and Wunmi Mosaku, one of whom a gentle soul, who tries to be respectful of Alice’s life choices, even when they are clearly misguided; and the other, an artist in her own right, albeit unsuccessful, who takes on the more combative role of realist. Lying to Simon about needing to leave for work, Alice takes off with the others to a lake house somewhere out in the Ontario countryside. Naturally, a few days with her friends, and the real Alice begins to resurface (an analogy the film trades in pretty heavily). She stops literally yanking the hair out of her head, and allows for fun drinking to excess again. Of course, Simon, ever-vigilant, eventually glams on to what’s going on, and makes a surprise appearence at the cabin, finally leading to a confrontation in which Alice has to choose between the forces in her life. Trite as it often can be — the women bond, in part, by singing an acapella version of Lisa Loeb’s “Stay” at the top of their lungs — and forced as the giggling comradarie might get between the women, Alanna Francis’s screenplay is dealing with a worthy topic: The ways in which our self-deception can overpower our survival instinct, allowing other forces to dictate our own terms. It’s possible to accept the film’s faults, and instead view it as a sort of plaintive survival cry. It’s too slick to be primal — as solid as Kendrick is, rawness is not something she seems quite able to access — but the sentiment is, as they say, at least well met.

The Eternal Daughter: What are ghosts, but memories? Joanna Hogg’s film, about a ebulient daughter taking her elderly mother to an ancient hotel that she used to go to as a child, seems filled with both. The fog swirls around the place, set deep in dank woods, with gargoyles overlooking the topiary garden. Unsurprisingly, few, if any, other guests are to be found. In fact, the place seems nearly deserted but for a snippy young woman (Carly-Sophia Davies) at the front desk, and a kindly older gentleman (Joseph Mydell), who worked there along with his wife, until she passed away a couple of years before. The two women, mother, and daughter, Julie (both played by Tilda Swinton) spend their time wandering around the dark hallways, or walking their (adorable) pooch, Louis, out on the grounds. At night, as the older woman sleeps, Julie fits about in bed, hearing every creak and moan of the empty rooms above them, and the howling wind whipping about the shutters. There are other bad portents — an elderly woman’s visage, who peers out at Julie each time she approaches the front of the place; her mother seeming to slip further and further away from her, even as she tries to do everything she can in order to give her mother a wonderful experience for her birthday. But the memories her mum has of the place don’t turn out to have been universally positive (she lost a pregnancy there, among other things), and as much as Julie is keen for her mother to bask in her love, there is something that remains ever elusive about her, something she can’t seem to grab hold of, no matter how much of an effort she makes to do so. Hogg washes the film (shot in 35mm!) out in greys and flat tones, adding to the pervasive sense of apprehension, and the dialogue between mother and daughter — consisting of shot/reverse shot sequencing and no two-shot cheats with the formidable actress facing herself directly — turns on the elliptical side. There is, of course, a point to all this subterfuge and apprehension, having to do with memory, and the creation of art, among other things, but it’s largely a film of mood and ambiance, at which Hogg has proven to be almost eerily adept. Like some other films of its ilk — you might be reminded of both The Hound of the Baskervilles and Swimming Pool, among other things — the ending comes at a point you might not have expected, but can still find surprisingly satisfying.

Aftersun: Memory can be famously tricky to represent in film. It’s one of the ways in which the novel, with its ability to engage deeply into a character’s subconscious, would seem to be the preferred medium to capture that particular process. Make it too literal, say a series of frequent back-and-forth flashbacks, and you can end up with wheezy, laborious bore (a la My Policeman, which premiered at this very festival); go the other direction, keeping it ephemeral and esoteric, and you can lose the emotional core in favor of an over-intellectualized exercise. Charlotte Wells’ devastatingly brilliant debut feature is crafted from snippets of memory and metaphor and stitched into an informal collage of grief. Primarily, the film’s narrative is centered on a holiday trip to a Greek resort in the mid-‘90s, taken by a young father, Calum (Paul Mescal), and his 11-year-old daughter, Sophie (Frankie Corio), as partially relayed by the home movies they both shot on Calum’s video recorder. In those, grainy, hand-held shots, the camera swoops around, capturing the loose mood of the pair, as they go about the business of their end-of-summer holiday. There is also the sense of these old tapes being edited as we watch — the images suddenly freezing, as if paused, stuttering forward and back — before we plunge back into the regular scene work that fleshes out their experience. Spending time at the pool, or diving off a boat, having their meals at outdoor tables, wandering around the grounds of the resort, playing pool, and goofing on each other, information about their circumstances comes in small, tiny bits — we learn Calum’s dream of opening a cafe has been deferred; that he’s taken up Tai Chi, and that, despite her mom splitting with him for another woman, he’s still enthusiastic about her happiness, and so on, but in more subtle ways, we begin to grasp the circumstances of this particular trip, why it would stand out to the adult Sophie (Celia Rowlson-Hall) the way it does. We only see her in fleeting glimpses, and mostly in flash-strobed moments in a darkened nightclub, Wells’ (incredibly adept) metaphor for the obscured flashes of memory we get to hang onto in our lives. Wells’ extraordinary film shows just enough without telling us anything directly, an incredibly potent way to register grief and loss, and to display how much we will still never know about the people we love dearest. “You can tell me anything,” Callum says to Sophie at one point, as they sit on a diving platform off a Mediterranean beach, but as we all know, it’s the things remaining inexpressible that will go on to devastate us the most.

The Menu: As if the uber-riche hadn’t been socked to it enough with the palme d’Or winning Triangle of Sadness, director Mark Mylod takes it to them again with his film, about a wildly extravagant dining experience set in a restaurant on its own island, that proves to be the culminating work in a grandly audacious culinary career. As the patrons all gather on the pier, we meet all sorts of social visigoths — a washed-up former movie star (John Leguizamo); the brash, young tech-tycoons (played by Rob Yang, Arturo Castro, and Mark St. Cyr); the snooty food critic (Janet McTeer) and her toadie assistant (Paul Adelstein); the old-money blue-bloods (Reed Birney and Judith Light); and the genuine foodie (Nicholas Hoult), along with his hired female companion (Anya Taylor-Joy) — all there to treat themselves to the audacious dining installations by the incomparable Chef Slowik (Ralph Fiennes). Over the many, many odd courses (including a “breadless bread board,” and a ‘taco night’ installment that features tortillas laser-printed with memories of each of the guests), it slowly becomes clear that the Chef, and his assistant (Hong Chau), have prepared this extraordinary feast as a final act, with the intention of taking all the diners down with him as a final statement on the dining experience. Fans of HBO’s “Succession” might recognize the tableau (Mylod is a veteran director for the show), albeit several steps more ludicrous in Seth Reiss and Will Tracy’s scorning screenplay, but Mylod’s film is even more no holds barred than the scorching TV series. As it becomes gradually more and more clear to the patrons what is happening to them, at least one diner still considers the possibilities — a chance, after all, to have the last such dinner Chef Slowik will evidently ever perform is an elevated experience of such rarity, dying seems more than worth it.

Wherein the author contemplates this year’s offerings and the past decade of covering this fabulous film festival, as he’s poised to embark on a new career path that will more than likely involve him standing up in front of a group of sullen teens, espousing the glories of the Russian masters, rather than taking in a beatific week of international cinema in the early days of September.

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fitgothgirl · 7 months

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I've been a little quieter here unintentionally. It's good reasons though - just been more inwardly focused lately and making great progress with my fitness and weight loss (I just passed the 20-lb loss mark!) and just doing other self-improvement stuffs.

One thing though is since I'm going to Costa Rica for 10 days at the end of January/beginning of February, the threat of weed withdrawal has been weighing on me a lot and I know I need to taper down and take a break before we go so I'm not just completely preoccupied with anxiety and night sweats and inability to eat, etc... So I made a whole plan of how to very slowly wean and eventually take a break for almost two weeks before we even leave (that way I'll be sure there won't be withdrawal by the time we're there). Having it all written out, with 2-3 weeks to adjust to each step, and the actual deadline/possible consequences all help so much.

Right now I'm in a stage of just "practicing" using my kSafe, regardless of how much I smoke before or after. This way I just get used to putting my weed away each day, and having some moments where I want it and remember "nope, can't have it right now." Then I'll progress to lower strength weed, not using my vape, stopping the morning smoking, and of course gradually lowering the quantity I smoke overall - including transitioning from my bong to a pipe (I love smoking with a bong over any other way, but you use a lot more weed too).

I've usually tried to take a break the cold turkey way, or the few times I've tried to taper it's been quickly abandoned due to lack of planning. I've never had such a detailed plan like this, especially all written out. Seeing it like this is so helpful. And I can do extra things if I want of course (like the current rule is kSafe for 4 hours a day but today I did 5), but as long as I'm just doing what's on my plan at least, I can rest assured that I'm on track.

Then after Costa Rica, I want to keep my break going to hit the 8-week mark. And after that I do not want to come back to these ways! I will not come back to these ways! When I want my weed and it's put away, I've been thinking that, first off, if I'm feeling some discomfort, then that means it's working. Secondly, I remind myself that this is going to be the new me, this is going to be the way it is from now on. This is actually it, finally. I'm not going to be a huge stoner anymore, that is not my identity anymore. So I need to get comfortable in these weed-less moments because they're only going to progress. After I think these things during a craving, I'll relax/settle into it more.

Also, therapy helps so much. 🥹😌 Instead of feeling too weak or too addicted to take a break and always thinking "I can't, it's too hard, I can't I can't I can't" I have this attitude of "no, I can do it." The Wellbutrin has helped there too I think, just in general giving me the attitude of "I can do the thing, and I can do it right now," even though that's usually more about tasks. And at the end of the day, even if I have a slip up, I just move on and try again without pointless guilt or negative self-talk.

Here's my lil plan:

#mine

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