#smells like fruit in here

[cherryfemm]

Bruh they all doing the gay hand thing.

(ID in alt)

[housewifebuck]

Torn between wanting Ryan and Oliver to do promo together, but also knowing that if we have that the accusations of queerbaiting will be up the roof 🫠

HUH

[pestilentbrood]

anyway it's time to post the soup drinker

[synonymroll648]

"And she [Sophie] couldn't help noticing how good he [Keefe] smelled—like wind and salt air and something a little citrusy."

hey guys remember when on page 646 of stellarlune shannon confirmed that keefe is a bit fruity (/hj)

[selenealwayscries]

in what fucking world would you need to put this frame in your stageplay trailer

[aggressionbread]

Me and my bf's con haul, as well as a few prints!

[rookesbane]

perfume moodboard: lattafa yara

the scent of creamy, pink frosting greets you as you float down from your bedroom. no one’s baking—that’s just how the air always smells. your car takes you downtown, the aroma of tropical fruits begin to fill the air as you near your friends’ beach party. to no one’s surprise, it’s another perfect day.

[sollilua]

pls dont judge me but i got MORE rose apples because i grinded so much for the exam weeks and my moth brain deserves a bit of Nice Stuff as a treat

[magioffire]

the fact that i know that the ‘rotting fruit’ scent in that perfume is likely supposed to the scent of death, because ive smelled enough death in my life unfortunately to know death smells like rotting mangoes/fruit. like thanks i would love to smell like death itself

[pochapal]

these are like. the most mundane regular lines but this is actually feeding into something i have noted down for my 1-10 writeup that's making me reconsider something

[lovedlovingly]

not to sound dumb but u literally have to want better for yourself in life for life to get better, and this has ZERO to do with what u originally deserve because u already deserve the world. but as long as u hold on so tight to the idea that u don't, bathe in the misery that u convinced yourself is all u should have, you WILL make sure u miss out on good things in life. not all of it, some will still worm their way into your life because it knows its for you. but like stop pushing the good in life away just because you or someone else decided that a false truth of suffering is safer than anything good life has to offer. literally just WANT better for yourself and see what that means for u. there's so many ppl ready to love u, and i bet a part of u is longing to love yourself anew as well, why is the comfort of known suffering better than the terrifying excitement of the multiple doors to the better unknown, why did u choose to keep this pattern as the once u force yourself to be comfortable with.

and if the ppl around u are the ones keeping u in said misery you have to make sure you do whatever u can to get out, whatever they think they're winning from keeping u down you are not! there is love and support around u and waiting for u, you literally just have to stop shaking it off because it feels different to what you're used to. want better for yourself, find out what that means, and try it even if it means just poking one little finger outside of your comfortable self loathing zone

because at least then it means you're trying, your focus has shifted, and you can then start actively choosing how much better life should be for u and how fast - because it's all waiting for u. stop not wanting it for yourself

[housewifebuck]

[rthko]

The straight woman is unsatisfied with straight studio porn. She wants to get off to something in which the actors actually emote and show passion beyond canned moans from the women and, at best, vacant grunts from the men. She turns to gay porn. She knows it's not "for her," but neither was the straight porn, and at least the actors look like they're enjoying themselves. And for a short while she is satiated by Sean Cody et al, but she runs into the same problems she had to begin with. She was not looking at sex but a simulacrum of sex, trapped in Plato's cave. Unsatisfied, she turned to vintage gay porn, harkening to a time when most gay bars still had darkrooms and reliably smelled of piss and Amyl Nitrite. Here was the real thing, in all its animalistic passion. But she still couldn't immerse herself in the fantasy. She wanted the media to engage with her own imagination and meet her half-way, rather than having it spoonfed to her onscreen. She turned to yaoi, with its elongated figures reminiscent of mannerist portraiture, then bara, including hardcore BDSM scenes. But the tactile sensations depicted in the pages didn't do justice to their real life counterparts. She turned deeper into her own imagination, this time reading erotica. No, not the poolside paperbacks sold at Barnes and Noble. The good shit. Why then, was she still not satisfied? She dug deeper, searching for the true meaning of eroticism. She studied the psychoanalysis of Freud, the cultural criticism of Susan Sontag, the feminist poetry of Audre Lorde. She took vacation time and flew to Europe, starting at the caves of Lascaux to explore the human urge to create, then traversed the Camino de Santiago on foot, along the way meeting a 56 year old carpenter from Burgos named Andrés, with whom she had an explosive affair. They both knew it couldn't last, which made them cherish each other's touch all the more. Upon flying home, she gave up. If her search for true eroticism never bore fruit this whole time, why would it now? It would take years before she stumbled upon the answer by pure happenstance: dubstep.

[motomamita]

fugitive!konig × naive!farmer!reader

warnings: smut, +18, no condom, innocence kink, breeding kink, baby trapping, virginity loss, female reader, dub-con!!

fugitive!konig who managed to escape the law, after committing several crimes, and now travels throughout the country hiding his identity.

On one of his many trips he ends up arriving at a small town, almost lost in time, where its few inhabitants live off their animal farms and orchards. Apparently no one had televisions, and the few radios only broadcast music that was overshadowed by static. This ensured that no one there would be able to recognize him and gave him the opportunity to stay and rest for a few hours.

Tired of walking and extremely hungry, Konig sat down in a small cafe to have a drink. The people around him looked at him strangely, not only because they didn't know him but also because of his intimidating appearance. His back was broad, he had long legs, and the muscles in his arms were noticeable even though he was wearing a wind jacket that covered him. However, no one seemed to be bothered by his presence, the people there loved tourists and Konig seemed completely like one.

When it was time to pay, he noticed that he had ordered and consumed more than he could afford. He was about to offer some of his "camping" knives in exchange for the money he was missing until a figure approached him.

"Don't worry if you don't have the money to pay." you spoke with a sweet voice and doing everything possible so that Konig would not feel embarrassed. "I sell the fruits to the owner of the place so I'm sure I can reach an agreement with him."

Konig was fascinated by you. Not only because of your timely friendliness but also your very natural and almost unique appearance that was very difficult to find in other places. You were wearing a jean gardener, some comfortable shoes and you were carrying a basket that minutes ago was full of fruits and vegetables from your garden. Konig looked down, somewhat shy and not knowing how to react to you, the truth is that during his escape he had not met many friendly people.

"Don't worry, I'm not going to ask you for anything in return." You smiled when you saw that no words came out of his mouth. "Here we greatly appreciate tourists and travelers, after all they are the ones who keep this small town from turning into a ghost town."

You invited Konig to take refuge in your small house for as long as he needed before leaving again for another place. Konig accepted, surprised at your remarkable naivety in letting a complete stranger into your house and providing him with all the care.

When he arrived, you showed him where the shower was and what his room would be where he could rest. You left a clean change of clothes on his bed and selflessly went off to make dinner. Once he cleaned, Konig followed the delicious smell and came to the kitchen where you were on your back stirring a large pot of what seemed to be a stew. You were so focused that you didn't notice the presence of the big man behind you. he thought about how easy it would be to cut your neck with one of those long knives you had there. But the idea quickly disappeared when you turned around and a wide smile formed on your face when you saw him.

That stew was the best he had tasted in a long time, so much so that he served himself 3 plates, leaving you totally pleased. The next morning, Konig didn't really know exactly what to do. He could stay one more night and wake up in the middle of the night to raid your entire home, even leave after having a trip with you. He was hesitant, and that hesitation turned into doubt when you offered to cut his hair and trim his long beard, which he accepted.

That same afternoon Konig sat down to drink a lemonade made by you while he watched you harvest super large, red strawberries from a distance. He fixed his gaze on the way your pants hugged your butt in a tempting way and how you hummed a melody quietly that he couldn't make out. A tingling appeared in Konig's tummy and he suddenly noticed an erection growing inside his pants. You looked so pretty, so innocent. It was obvious from afar that you didn't kill a fly and that your care for him was sincere.

The days passed and Konig seemed to have no intention of leaving, that didn't bother you at all. Now he helped you with the heavy work on the farm, carrying large amounts of hay on his shoulder and feeding the animals. His favorite activity was watching you milk the cows, fantasizing about your hands and the way the milk dripped from them.

His approaches to you intensified, taking advantage of the slightest opportunity to touch you or rub against you. he soon discovered that you had no idea about any sexual activity, acting confused at his double meaning words and insinuations. You were the perfect muse to fulfill all his fantasies without anyone being able to stop him.

Your parents had died a long time ago, leaving you alone in charge of the big farm and all the obligations of the adult world. That led Konig to think that life on that farm couldn't be bad. He knew how to handle hard work well and you did everything you could to teach him and please him. The idea of ​​starting from scratch, with you there, totally convinced him.

You were a healthy, hard-working woman and you needed someone like konig with you. But Konig needed to have something that would force you to keep him there with you, forever and that would confirm the mutual love that you both had to give each other. That's when he found the solution: he had to get you pregnant.

That afternoon he made a point that you wouldn't leave the stable until you were full of his cum. He started by complimenting your dress and how pretty that color looked on you. Then the caresses that increased in intensity until he managed to let you be carried away by him and his carnal desire. Now he had you under him, with your skirt up and your underwear hanging from one of your feet. Out of desperation, Konig only lowered his pants to his heels, even with his work boots on. You were on a large pile of hay, sweating from the great summer heat and moaning loudly.

His thrusts were brutal, making their way inside you that you barely had time to understand everything that was happening. The pleasure was so much that you could barely think about anything other than Konig's gaze and the way his balls slapped your ass.

"Oh, baby. You're so so tight.. And wet, shit" Konig groaned, sighing loudly at the pleasure your pussy was giving him. "Tell me, how did a cute little thing like you stay a virgin for so long, huh?" You opened your mouth to answer but only moans came out. "Uh? Talk to me, sweetheart, talk to me.."

"I.. I don't know.." you managed to say, overstimulated by everything. Konig's rough shirt rubbed against your clit, giving both pleasure and pain. Konig was so big that he covered you with his entire body, leaving you with almost no place to breathe air other than his breath.

"Uh? Don't you know? These farm boys are idiots... They wouldn't know how to please a pretty thing like you..." Konig cut off his sentence to get even closer to you and kiss you, putting his tongue inside your mouth. You tried to keep up with him but that triggered the kiss to be even wetter and hotter for him.

"Konig.. Give me more, please!" He smiled as he heard the urgency in your broken voice. You looked so pretty like that, almost not understanding what was happening but still pleased and eager for him to give you even more.

He, ready to please you, grabbed your legs and raised them to your shoulder, adopting a new position. His thrusts continued, his fat cock forcing its way into your no longer so virgin pussy and the simple sound of your skin slapping together made your warm walls embrace him. Not really knowing what to do, you brought your hands to Konig's big, muscular shoulders, feeling a few scars on them.

"Oh, my pretty little thing.. I'm going to fill you inside and you're going to be the prettiest mom in this whole damn town.." You dug your nails into his shoulder and your gaze was filled with confusion. "You like it, huh? You're going to make me so happy, isn't that what you want?"

You hesitated for a few seconds, not sure what he meant but his cock rammed even deeper into you leaving you almost without any thought. Tears formed in your eyes from the pleasure and absolute adoration with which he looked at you.

"Come on, mommy.. Make me happy, carry my precious baby.."

In the same way that Konig had managed to get his way in prison, he had gotten his way with you. Now you both lived together as a couple on the farm, happy and with a baby on the way inside your fertile womb.

[actual-changeling]

crowley avoiding the bookshop like it's consecrated ground is definitely one of my favourite options for how he deals with the break-up but have you considered the opposite?

he returns to tell muriel how to take care of it (don't sell books, get rid of customers, dust, drink tea, read, nothing else), and then he sinks back into his chair. it is still in the same spot as he put it while waiting for aziraphale to return, still catches as much of the sunlight throughout the day as possible, still smells like earl grey, and vanilla, and a hint of cinnamon.

still smells like his angel.

crowley sits down, takes off his shades and leaves them in their usual spot, and then he allows his human form to fade away until a smaller version of the serpent of eden is curled up on the cushions.

muriel knows, of course they do, and as their time on earth forces them to mature like it does with any celestial being staying for an extended amount of time, they ache for crowley. they make sure he's warm and protected, and that is all they really can do.

he doesn't quite sleep, it's more of a hibernation or whatever imitation he can manage, and he waits. maybe it's stupid, maybe it's hopeless, maybe it is useless optimism, but he has to cling to the possibility of aziraphale coming back for him.

crowley dreams of eden. damp earth and lush plants, sweet fruit and humming insects, and an angel offering kindness to someone who fell from grace

-

edit: continuation here

[mari13606]

If I ever met God I would kill him.

But first I would thank him for two things.

1. For having a hand in creating all the people that I love and cherish.

2. For creating such decadent fruit to be enjoyed at two am, so juicy I end my fervor licking from wrist to fingertip, knife to edge, and the droplets off the cutting board too seeking such sweet nectar.