#to build a massive ikea

[huellitaa]

ikea youkea we all scream for ikea

[coldvampire]

anyway as soon as i pry myself off this couch im gonna share some screenshots of bg3 protags on my sideblog. just gotta like. reach the desk first.

[mrsbsmooth]

Smut writing 101: What I wish someone had told me when I first started.

So a conversation with @queen-of-boops and @longbobmckenzie sparked this post. Sarah already wrote a list of tips for writing a villa fic which was really helpful and people expanded on it a lot, so we thought it might be helpful to share a few tips for writing smut from some of the writers that do it a lot.

This is a long-ass post, because I've learned a lot over the years. So right at the end, there's a mini how-to guide for how to turn your smut from IKEA instruction manual into an explosion of sexual tension.

In addition, I would love for others to add on to this. This fandom is horrifically talented especially in writing brain-melting smut, and this is just what I could come up with in a few hours. But I'd love to hear from other people and have them add on extra bits!

A few resources before we begin:

The Smut Writer's Dictionary

The Ultimate Guide to Writing Smut Fic [HIGHLY recommend sections ii (Reaction words), iv (sexy alternatives to 'said'), xii (generally acceptable slang terms) and xvi (Some do's and don'ts of smut writing).]

OneLook Thesaurus is much better than other thesauruses at suggesting words for smut (I've found).

Now, on to the advice!

Tip #1 - It's normal to find it difficult and cringe to write. Own it.

Smut can be intimidating. It can feel really cringe and awkward and you might feel like people are judging you for it, and you know what? Sometimes they are. Smut isn't for everyone, and not everyone wants to read it, and that's why ratings and tags exist on Archive of Our Own. But you shouldn't be ashamed of writing it. Smut is fun and awesome and people who do like reading smut often love reading it, and will absolutely eat up whatever you give them. So go nuts. Write what you want to see, write what you want to read. That's advice for everything, but it's especially relevant for writing smut. Because if you feel awkward, it can sometimes show through. Lean into it. Let it happen. If you make yourself blush, you’re doing a fucking awesome job.

Tip #2 - Writer’s block.

I've written hundreds of thousands of words of pure, unadulterated filth, and I still struggle to push into it sometimes. The leadup comes so naturally, the tension builds, they're kissing, they're starting to touch each other, and then-- writer's block. I stare at the page and tap my fingers and go... huh. Same with writing really effectual kisses, or writing orgasms. There's all this pressure to make it the best written orgasm that's ever existed in the English language and it really doesn't need to be. Just put something down. 

If your doc looks like this:She clawed at the wall, knowing she was coming apart at the seams, the pressure building inside her. He didn’t let up. [orgasm bla bla bla]. She took a deep breath. She drew herself off him. She turned around. And she fell to her knees. [blowjob and he's loving it].

Then your doc looks just like mine.

Tip #3 - Pick the right words for everyone’s bits. 

See the resource above for suggestions! People have very different preferences when it comes to what to call a cock or whether or not to use the word ‘cunt’. Adjectives, adverbs– there are so many different opinions. Like personally, I have to physically restrain myself from throwing a fic across the room if it uses the word hole but that is my personal preference, and I am massively in the minority there. But my advice is threefold:

Read widely to find out what you like,

Write what you like,

Know your characters. 

Language will vary by fandom, by character, and by setting, and it’s an opportunity to really solidify their characterisation by carrying this into smut. An arrogant fuckwit who’s bedding his mortal enemy in a fit of hate-sex might use ‘into her slick cunt’, whereas a sweet, wholesome guy who’s desperately in love might say ‘pushed inside her’. But the more you read, and the more you write, the more you’ll find certain words or phrases you’re more comfortable with. 

The more smut you read, the better understanding you’ll have of what you like. The better understanding you have of what you like, the easier it will be to write. 

Tip #4 - POV can help you

Picking the right POV can make your life easier. For example, I once wrote a M/M/M threesome. That fic ended up being my very first ever 'first person POV' fic. Why? Because it turned one set of ‘his hand’ into ‘my hand’. Made it easier to understand the logistics of ‘his hand on his waist’, etc. Maybe it's lazy, maybe it's genius. I thought it was a bit of both. 

Consider whose POV is going to be the most impactful. If you’re not sure, try writing a paragraph from each. You’ll figure it out quite quickly. 

Tip #5 - Dialogue

You don’t have to include dialogue in your smut, but it can really help with pacing things and showing when the ‘end’ is approaching. Anyone who’s ever read any of my smut ever knows I’m a huge fan of cutting people off mid sentence in smut dialogue. 

They start out with “Oh yeah? You think you can make me X?” And the other person goes “Sweetheart, I’m going to make you X so hard you don’t Y for a Z.” 

But then by the end it’s “You feel–” and everyone’s gasping “Oh, fuck–” and sobbing out “I’m so– I’m gonna–” 

To me, this helps to build pacing and tension and show without telling that the end is approaching. But honestly, that’s just me– I enjoy reading people being very vocal in smut, so that’s how I write them. If that’s not your thing, then don’t do it. Simple as that. 

Tip #6 - Don’t skimp on the finale

Orgasms are hard to write. We all know that. There’s all this pressure to write the best most explosive monumental earth-shattering orgasm that’s ever existed in fiction, and honestly, it probably won’t be. But you still need to give it the time it deserves. 

As an avid consumer of smut, there is nothing more frustrating than five pages of buildup, incredible smut, tension rising, rising, rising– and then the orgasm happens in two lines and they’re immediately having a conversation afterwards. This is, no pun intended, the climax of your scene. Give it a paragraph. Hell, give it two paragraphs. Give it four. The climax is something you can write in excruciating detail and it will almost always be better for it. You can decide whether they come at the same time, or whether one comes immediately after the other (personal fav so we get to read two orgasms. Yay! Two cakes!) You can hyper-focus on every single sense. Here are some examples for writing orgasms:

Feel/Touch

The feeling travelling through the character’s body/ zones: up their spine, through their thighs, ‘deep inside them’

Their partner continuing to thrust/move

Their partner’s grip on their body, or maybe a kiss

Fingernails digging into shoulder or raking down a back

Legs squeezing

Smell

Personally I think this works better for the leadup and afterwards, but if you want this in here you absolutely can. Pheremones, cologne, aftershave, perfume, sweat, hair gel– whatever makes them smell like them. 

Sight

Their partner’s face and get detailed! Lips parting, brow scrunched, eyes closed, face in beautiful agony, wax poetic as fuck about their partner's face! What is hotter than making someone come and watching their face while you do it!??!!?

Darkness (blindfolded 👀)

‘White light behind their eyes’ is a cliche for a reason (fucking love this one)

Seeing stars/heaven see above lol

Taste

Harder to put into an orgasm but salty skin, lipgloss/lipstick? Whatever you want really

Sound

Big one. Their partner’s breath or moan as they watch/feel character’s peak

Their own breath/moans (or lack thereof can be just as effective, a ‘sudden silence’ as their breath catches in their throat can work WONDERS)

Bodies slapping together (doesn’t always work but when it does it does)

External sounds, especially rhythmic ones. A train clacking or a club baseline could simulate a heartbeat/shockwaves that you could lean into.

Pick multiple senses and focus on them. This will fill up a good bit of your climax writing. 

But you should also let them come down from it! DON’T SKIMP AFTERCARE (or after-hate??)

Tip #7 - Aftercare!

I missed this so often when I was new to writing smut and I didn’t realise how effective it could be! I always just faded to black immediately afterwards because I didn’t want to deal with the ‘cleanup’. And you don’t have to go into detail, but at the very least, give them a few minutes– a paragraph or so after the sex. The immediate aftermath of the act itself when you can really focus on the relationship. 

If they’re mortal enemies who’ve just fucked and are now horrified? Have them panting into each others’ skin. Their breaths suddenly become sharper and more reserved. They pull back from each other. Someone glares or someone says something snarky or awful. Someone showing aftercare or affection here (or being particularly cruel) reveals a lot about their character.

If they’re deeply in love and it’s comfortable for them to do so, maybe let them just lay there for a second, enjoying the feeling of each others’ bodies and letting breaths fall warmly and smiles tug at cheeks. Soft kisses, laying in silence, affection, etc. 

If they’re best mates who just fucked by accident, have the silence be awkward and have no one breathe at all. It’s tense and awkward and one has to ask the other to go get a towel or something and the other is like ‘oh, yeah, um, right’. 

Don’t skip this! It can be so impactful!

Overall Tip - Beware the ‘IKEA Instruction manual’!

The #1 most common mistake, in my opinion, in writing smut is ‘Insert Tab A into Slot B’. It’s things like, 

He moved his leg A, she touched B. He lifted her arm to C, holding her D’s, before slipping down to cup E. She ran her hands up F, touching his G, feeling his Hs caressing her I as she lifted her J and draped it over his K.

When I read this, I’m not focusing on the smut. I’m doing mental gymnastics trying to keep track of what position they’re in in my head because I’m assuming that it’s important. If you feel yourself doing this, stop. Refocus. Remember whose POV you’re in. This isn’t to say you should never tell the reader what’s happening. Just make sure to break it up a little!

Balance actions with senses. 

Let’s say you start with a basic action. (The example is buildup to smut, not actual smut, but the idea is the same)

“His hand moved from her knee to her thigh.”

-> Instead of writing what they’re doing, write what they can sense.

“His hand moved from her knee to her thigh” becomes “She felt his warm hand slide from her knee to her thigh.”

-> Now, make the phrase active. Instead of ‘she felt’, make it a description.

‘She felt his warm hand slide from her knee to her thigh’ becomes ‘Warmth erupted on her skin as his hand slid from her knee to her thigh’.

-> Give it details, and draw focus to them.

His fingertips skimmed her inner thigh as his hand slipped from her knee and moved higher. The silk of her skirt gave way to the warmth of a coarse, rough palm. Her skin seared beneath it. But every other inch of her shivered with anticipation.

In three steps, you’ve gone from IKEA tab A to slot B to a pretty good section for building tension. 

Examples of writing senses:

What can they feel? - ‘She’d never been so pent up, so wired, so on edge, and every flit of his practiced fingers on her waist had goosebumps shooting up her spine’.

What can they taste? - ‘She could taste the sweat on his skin, the coconut suncream on his shoulders, the salt of the ocean on the hints of stubble at his jawline.’

What can they smell? - ‘Her forehead pressed to his, that smokey, heady cologne engulfing her; curling her closer in time with his arms around her.’

What can they hear? - ‘He watched her every move, breathing quickly, so she looked him directly in the eyes as she undid his belt. Belt. Button. Zip purring as she tugged it down towards her.’

What can they see? - “Then, they opened, and he was treated to the sight of her looking up at him from her knees. Her eyes said fuck me. Her mouth said fuck me. Everything about her. Fuck me. Fuck me.”

I hope this was helpful in some way. I really would love to hear any other tips and tricks that writers would like to add to this. Obviously Mo and Sarah are already tagged, but this is a full and open free-for-all.

Add your thoughts! Add what you've learned! Add what you wish you knew!

I'd love to hear it <3

[manheimsmuse]

thinking about domestic life with jj.

as soon as his dad leaves and his life returns to somewhat normal he’s moving you in. little by little your presence becomes more noticeable in the house. for one, it’s tidier, little ornaments you’ve found while thrifting decorate the rooms.

pictures proudly decorate the walls, you and jj, the pouges, even a photo of little jj and his dad that you managed to talk him into keeping, even if you hated luke.

you have to cook, naturally, jj’s culinary talents end at instant noodles. jj does what he calls ‘the boy jobs’, like catching bugs and building ikea furniture. the house isn’t massive, you’re living on top of eachother most days, the two of you squashed together in the bathroom when jj barged in on you in a rush because he woke up late again.

it can be hard sometimes, you’re both people who appreciate alone time which is hard to come across now you’re cramped into the tiny little house, but neither of you would change a thing.

[hertzwritings]

You spin me right round (baby, right round)

A/N: Am I alive? Physically, yes. Am I okay? Probably not. Did I miss all of you guys and writing? YES. Honestly, it’s been weird not writing and keeping in contact with all of you, but I’m trying to get back to it – and that brings us to here. Also, I’ve been listening to Sleep Token on repeat, so I’m feeling things.

I don’t have a set schedule right now, mostly because I have no idea if I’ll be posting regularly or just on a whim, but for now, I’m just getting back in the groove of things!

Your comments, likes, reblogs mean the world to me and would definitely help me stay on it, so if you’ve got anything to say, say it, my loves.

Remember English isn’t my first language, so if there’s errors in grammar or language, try to overlook it. Love you all!

Also, please be gentle wit me on my first day back – it’s like being nervous to start a new school, really.

MASTERLIST

Ask me anything/requests/tag list requests

Pairing: NotFamous!Henry Cavill x female reader

Warnings: Language, dorks being dorks, meet cute, strangers to lovers, neighbors to lovers, smut (18+, minors DNI), dirty talk, slightly dom/sub, spanking, p in v, tongue on v, blowjobs, slight Msub to Mdom, unprotected sex, semi-public sex, creampie, petnames

Wordcount: 4633 (whoops)

You spin me right round (baby, right round)

  Laundry day. Probably the worst of days, especially considering the hefty trek from your 5th floor apartment to the basement, which would be bad enough in and of itself, but carrying the massive load of laundry down without a functioning elevator without spilling half of your delicates did seem like an almost impossible task.

At any rate, you were going to do it, and you were going to be a strong, independent woman, who could definitely carry it down and back up again without dropping a thong or three (like last time, where Pete from 5D was lurking).

You heaved the blue IKEA-bag higher on your shoulder, silently cursing yourself for not actually doing the damned laundry more than you did, and began the descent into the musty basement, your trusty laundry-tokens jangling in your pocket of the loose shorts, you were wearing.

It took longer than you’d like to admit, and you almost did drop the entire bag down a flight of stairs, but you made it and with a loud grunt, you pushed the door to the basement and laundry-room open, almost stumbling inside.

“Oh.” You locked eyes with a very handsome stranger, who looked up from the only dryer, hands still buried pretty deeply in there. “Oh, you need this one?” He asked politely, and that voice – smooth velvet, mixed with a deep rumble that settled nicely in your chest and between your legs. The accent didn’t help at all with how attractive you found him, either, and you shifted your weight slightly. Fuck.   “I-I… I’m… Not right…” You squeaked, silently cursing yourself for wearing your gray, tattered t-shirt with a faded logo on it, that definitely did not do anything nicely for your shape. You cleared your throat. “No, I’m sorry, no. I’m still in the early laundry-stages.” You said with a smile, and immediately wanted to die. Laundry stages?? He grinned, a fanged tooth catching his lower lip. “Alright. New to the building?” He asked, casually loading a basket with his clothes.

  “Sort of. More of a recluse, that have been living here for a month, and just never do laundry at normal people-times.” He chuckled and stood up to his full height. He was an impressive man, easily towering a head and a half above you, and he looked enormous. Muscles rolled under his perfect skin on his arms, and you couldn’t help your brain going in all other directions than polite talk with a neighbor. “Well, nice to meet you, recluse. I’m Henry.” He balanced the basket on his hip (a beautiful move, if you were honest) and extended his hand, which you cautiously shook. “I’m Y/N.” You said with a small smile. His hand was warm and the grasp was firmer than you had expected, small callouses on the tips of his fingers that graced the inside of your wrist deliciously. Fuckedy fuck. “Y/N. Good name.” He winked at you. “Oh, don’t use the second washing machine…” He pointed to the washer with a bright red 2 painted on it. “Stinky Pete from 5D used it, and I don’t want to imagine what on earth he washed, but it still smells vaguely like rot.” He winked at you. “Bye, Recluse Y/N!” And with that he left, leaving you slightly shellshocked and a scent trail of hazel and wood behind.

It went on like that for a few weeks; you showed up, he was already there in various states of undress (once you even came face to face with him in just boxers, because he had spilled what appeared to be red wine everywhere) and you exchanged pleasantries before leaving the basement and going back to your apartment, sighing deeply over the fact, that you never actually talked to the handsome stranger.

----------

 A while later, a little past midnight, you were back at it (still no working elevator) and found yourself face to face with the very handsome British man, who this time was wearing fucking gray sweatpants and a tank top, that definitely didn’t leave anything to the imagination. You could see every single muscle underneath the shirt as he loaded the laundry.

“Ah, look who’s back!” he grinned at you. “I saved the best washer for you, but don’t tell Mrs. Selton on the fourth. She can’t know I play favorites, or I’ll never get cookies again.” You laughed. “Alright, your secret’s safe with me, sir.” You said and stood next to him, before starting to load the washer. He tried to say something, but almost bit his tongue and groaned at the sensation. “Are you always this smooth?” You asked, laughing slightly, as he began coughing. “Inhaled… Spit…” He coughed again. When he was finally breathing normally, he raised an eyebrow at you. “I’ll have you know, this is in no way an indication of how I handle normal interactions with people. It’s late, and I’m slightly flustered.” He said with a small smirk.

“Mhm.” You nodded, while mindlessly stuffing your washer. “Sure, I’ll believe you.” “Hey, you don’t know me.” He said, leaning against the dryer and crossed his arms. “Maybe you know my name, and probably the color and general state of my underwear, but you don’t know me.” “I never said anything.” You grinned and closed the lid on the washer. “Wait, that’s not even close to full.” He tsked at you and opened it again. “You have to really stuff it in there, or you’ll be down here until morning.” “Excuse you, can you get your hands off of my laundry, you weirdo.” You slapped his hand away. “Maybe I don’t want my clothes overly wrinkled, have you considered that?” You asked. “Pfft. That’s the charm of communal laundry. It’ll always smell a little like other people and it will be wrinkled.” You guffawed. “Sure thing, Henry. Any plans for tonight?” you asked, mindlessly pouring detergent into the container. He looked at you with his head tilted slightly, a few stray curls bouncing onto his forehead. Goddamnit, it should be illegal to look like that when doing laundry. “Eh, not really. It’s Sunday, Sundays are for me and my boy.” You raised an eyebrow. “Your boy, huh?” “Oh, didn’t I tell you? I am indeed a parent. I have a child.” He said proudly, leaning over you to press the on-button for you. You jumped onto the counter behind you and sat down on it, insistingly ignoring the creaking of the wood beneath your butt. That’s an insecurity for another day. “Really?” He nodded. “Would your boy happen to be a giant dog?” he frowned. “How the hell did you know that?” You pointed to the unwashed load of laundry, where a suspicious amount of hair had settled on pretty much everything. “Why are you pointing at my... Yeah, well, that is a lot of hair…” He looked back at you with a furrowed brow. “Why are you even looking down there? My laundry should be sacred!” He said teasingly, covering the basket with his arm. “Well… That’s… Uhm… Anyway.” You laughed. “Are you just down here for fun, or did you wait for me?” You asked with a grin. He shrugged. “Oooor… Did you wait for me down here, because we’re the only people in this building that are somewhat close in age, and you are trying to befriend me, which is why you’ve hidden a bottle of wine in your laundry?” “Stop making assumptions that are astutely accurate, it’ll turn weird soon.” He groaned, and – as you thought – pulled a bottle of rosé out of his laundry. “I’m not astutely accurate, I didn’t know it was rosé.” You grinned. He laughed lightly and cocked an eyebrow. “To be fair, it’s mostly because I have nothing to do, and I have a feeling you never celebrated moving here. So…” He opened the bottle with a swift move and pulled two red solo cups out of the basket. “Drink?” You laughed.

“Love to.”  

 “Okay, come on, why on earth are you keeping these?” He asked, holding a very old thong between his fingers. “Shut up, and stop fondling my underwear, you freak!” you quickly grabbed it from him with a laugh. The bottle had been emptied, and a new one had been brought down and for some reason, in your tipsy mind, it was a great idea helping each other folding each other’s clothes while you were waiting on the load that was currently spinning in the dryer. “I’ll have you know, some clothes are sentimental!” You said, throwing the thong into your blue IKEA-bag. He snickered. “How on earth is tattered and holed thongs sentimental? Besides, to be quite frank, at this point it’s just… Like… A string.” He laughed. “You’re the one to talk! You threw a pair of his socks at him. “I have never seen so many pairs of boxers with holes in them!” He shrugged. “I call it the surprise.” You frowned. “The surprise?” “The surprise.” He moved closer to you, and every single hair on your body stood up, while your breath hitched. He whispered into your ear, closely enough for you to feel his lips touch your earlobe. “If I’m feeling very saucy, I’ll simply rip them off and yell surprise!.” He said and laughed, sending vibrations through your entire body. “Ah, why of course. That’s a totally normal thing to do.” He pulled back slightly, his eyes a little darker than usual. “As opposed to being sentimentally attached to a thong?” he asked, his arms caging you in – it wasn’t an unpleasant experience, but it did make your thighs shake a little. His scent enveloped you completely and made it almost impossible to think. “Many tings are sentimental. Underwear, stuff…” You answered lamely. He laughed, a low rumble in his chest and cocked an eyebrow at you. When did his face get so close? “Ah, of course. Stuff and thongs. Nothing better than relieving the good, old days of… Black thongs?” He said softly, his breath fanning over your face. It was intoxicating. “Right. Besides, you have no right to judge me when your underwear looks like it could’ve been made during World War two.” You retorted, shifting slightly in place. He chuckled. “Well… Maybe I have to get new ones, then.”

His lips were so, so close to yours, all it would take was just a little nudge and you would be connected. He was intoxicating as he had you caged, muscles rolling in his arms, his scent of wood and something inherently Henry fully filled your brain, and you almost moved your head, but the sound of the dryer going off pulled both of you out of whatever that was.

“Second load done, one more to go!” He said a little breathlessly and pushed himself away from you – you let out a breath, you didn’t know you were holding and jumped down from the counter. “Great.” You whispered, bending down to grab whatever was in there – you would’ve just kept going, if it wasn’t for the small groan that sounded behind you. You turned your head around and caught Henry looking at your ass. “Excuse you.” You smirked. He cleared his throat. “Were you just looking at my ass, Henry from 4C?” “Uhm… No, I… I-” He groaned. “Fine, I was, but you can’t blame me! You’re bending down like that, and you’re wearing those fucking shorts… I can’t help it, you’re fucking gorgeous, darling.” You shivered. “Oh.” A thick silence fell between you, and you slowly stood up, laundry be damned. “Yeah, well… It’s an unfair advantage, I really tried to be proper and all that, but... Jesus Christ, Y/N.” he groaned again and closed his eyes – the small twitch in his gray sweatpants did not go unseen by you. “Respectfully, are you wearing anything underneath those sweatpants?” You asked, slightly out of breath while heat and wetness were pooling in your panties by the mere idea. “Maybe, maybe not. Are you wearing anything under that?” He asked, opening his eyes slightly. “No, my sentimental thongs are in the laundry.” Wherever the confidence came from, you had no idea, but his reaction to you was more than enough for you to keep going. You were slightly shaky as you moved a step closer to him. “Y/N…” He whispered. “Henry…” You were chest to chest to him now, his lower back against the counter. It was slightly exhilarating to have the control, especially over such a big man as Henry. “Henry…” You whispered his name again, and a fucking whimper fell from his lips. Yeah, fuck this.

You pounced – as best as you could, height difference and all – and the moment, he realized what you were doing, his arms wrapped around you and lifted you slightly, so your lips could connect. It was electric. No, not electric, it was like a symphony of colors, feelings and it was like plunging into cool water, when his lips touched yours. You moaned against his lips, and he gasped, letting your tongue glide against his. Deepening the kiss, he straightened up slightly, allowing your legs to wrap around his waist, holding on for dear life. Your lips and tongues slid against each other fervently, a slight groan reverberating from his throat send you over the edge. You bit his lower lip, pulling a soft moan from him, and wrapped your hand in is hair, tugging it slightly. The reaction was better than you could’ve ever imagined. His hands moved from your waist to your ass, squeezing hard, while a mix of moans and your name tumbled from his lips to yours – you could feel his hard length pressing against the sweatpants and your shorts, and you were sure you were leaving wet spots on his pants. “Fuck, Henry…” You mumbled his name, and he turned around to place you on the counter, before going to your throat, kissing and biting. You moaned at the feeling and threw your head back. “Harder.” You moaned, and felt him smile against your skin, before his teeth sunk deeper into your skin, his large hands tightening their grip on your thighs, causing you to roll your hips. “Fucking hell, darling, I can almost taste you from here…” He whispered against you, his hands moving upwards. “Hmm, really?” You moaned, rolling your hips again. “Nobody’s stopping you.” You tugged his hair again for good measure. “No, you’re right about that.” He mumbled, his hands dancing up, up, up, until they reached the waistband of your shorts and gently pulled them down, letting the fabric slide down your legs – you lifted your ass from the counter, allowing them to fully fall off of you, and he groaned at the sight in front of him. “Fuuuck, darling… I can see how fucking wet you are… Can I taste you?” He asked, his darkened eyes finding yours, chest heaving. You cocked an eyebrow. “Ask nicely.” He chuckled, a thick finger gliding along your hip, slowly inching towards your mound. “Please, Y/N, please… Fuck, I need to taste you, please, let me taste you… let me eat you out until you cum on my tongue.” For a seemingly proper British man, he was filthy. “Yes.” He didn’t wait a second before moving down your body, teeth catching both fabric and nipple on his way down, before he stopped, licking his lips, while looking at your exposed, dripping pussy. “Y/N…” He mumbled your name like a prayer, and before you even had the time to breathe, he licked a thick line along your lips, parting them with it. He moaned at the taste and dove in like a man starved. You mewled at the feeling, his tongue moving around your clit, fingers still on your inner thigh, and you could barely hold your upper body up as his tongue dipped inside of you. “Fuck, yes… I want to feel you cum on me, darling…” He mumbled against you, his hips rutting slightly into nothing. “Fingers. Please, fingers.” You managed to moan as his tongue went back to your clit, hardening against it as he began to eat you out with an intensity you’d never experienced before. He obeyed silently, adding two thick fingers into your dripping pussy, curling them upwards. You bit back a scream as they filled you, slowly sliding in and out, hitting your g-spot over and over, while his tongue did magic on your clit; you’d forever be ruined by this man, and he hadn’t even been inside of you yet. “Fuck!” You bit back a scream as he sped up, tongue and fingers working in perfect unison to pull you closer to the edge; he chuckled darkly against you, the vibrations sending shockwaves through your clit. “Be quiet, little bird, or someone will hear.” He said slowly, taking a small break from your clit. “Fuck off, it’s like three in the mo-or…” You didn’t finish your sentence, as he dove back in, this time with a speed and intensity, that could’ve killed you on a different day. “Shit, I’m gonna…” He moaned as you tightened around his fingers, and he slurped your juices from you, keeping the pace as best he could. “Fuck, you’re so fucking tight, baby… I want to feel you cum, can you cum for me, please…” He whimpered as your pussy pulled his fingers deeper inside of you, and you shook slightly.

You couldn’t stop it, even if you wanted to. Your orgasm hit you like a fucking train, white spots appearing in your vision, and you felt, more than heard, his moaning as you rode your orgasm out on his face and fingers.

“Fuck, baby, look at you… You squirted for me, didn’t you, darling?” he looked up at you with a devilish smirk on his face, that was shimmering with your cum under the low fluorescent lights. You moaned – his fingers were still going in and out of you. “Now…” he whispered, his voice dangerously low. “You get on your knees, darling.” E stood up and wiped his face gracefully, putting a single finger in his mouth. “You taste fucking amazing.” He grinned at you and stood to his full height, a sense of authority filling the room. “Knees.” He commanded, and who were you to deny that? You slid down from the counter on shaky legs and landed on your knees, looking up at him. “Fuck, darling, you can’t look at me like that, I’ll fucking cum here and now.” He groaned. “Well, where’s the fun in that?” You said while your fingers grabbed the waistband of his sweatpants and pulled them down, letting his cock spring free. You almost salivated at the look of it. Thick, throbbing slightly, a thick vein running down the length of it and a drop of precum sparkling under the lights. He was huge. “Well, what are you waiting for, little bird?” he chuckled, before he cut it off with a moan, as your lips wrapped around the tip, and you slid down as far as your jaw and throat allowed you to. He moaned as the tip hit the back of your throat and you choked slightly on it – you were dripping wet, as you began to move back and fort on his length, swallowing as much as you could, reveling in the taste of is precum. He twitched slightly and a choked moan spilled from his lips, as he thrusted forwards. “Fuck, baby… Shit, you’re really... Fuck… Good at this…” He moaned. You smiled around his length and moved faster, hearing the choked moans above, spurring you on. “Fuck, baby, stop, stop, stop… Stop, I’ll cum if you keep going…” You whimpered as he pulled away from you, a line of spit connecting you, and you looked up at him with big eyes. He groaned and held your chin with a large hand. “Good girl. I want to feel you before I cum, darling.” He whispered, gently guiding you up to your feet again by your chin. He kissed you deeply before turning you around, bending you over the counter. “Fuck, this ass… You’re a fucking wonder, baby…” He reveled, a hand falling on your ass. You moaned at the sensation and your hips bucked, exposing yourself more to him. “Oh, look at you, doing so fucking good for me already, aren’t you?” he whispered. You moaned again. “Henry, please…” You whimpered his name and tried to push back to get him inside of you, but he chuckled and held you tightly in place. “No, baby girl, you’re going to stay right there.” He ran a hand down your spine and slapped your ass again, forcing a whimper from you. “Now, you ask nicely, and I’ll fuck you right here, right now.” He said darkly, his hand gently running circles over your ass, sometimes dipping between your legs. You coked on a moan, and barely had the wherewithal to create a coherent sentence. “Please, please, p-please, fuck, Henry, please… Please f-fuck me, I’m begging you-u…” His finger dipped inside of you. “You want to feel my cock slowly slide inside of you, baby?” He asked, dragging his finger in and out painfully slow. You whimpered a broken yes. “Want to feel me dragging against your walls, huh? Want me to fill you, let my cum drip out of you?” You were a shaking mess as another finger was added. “Y-yes…” You felt like crying. It was so good, but so torturous to feel his fingers glide so fucking slowly. “Ah, you can do better than that, darling.” He said, bending over you – you could feel the tip of his cock against your ass, as his mouth found your neck again. “P-please, Henry, please… I want to feel your cock in me, please…” “Mhm… I want to fill you up, darling… I want to watch my thick cock slide in and out of your tight pussy, seeing you take me…” He rambled, fingers moving faster now, and you groaned at his words. “Fuck, y-yes, Henry, I’m b-begging you, please…” you mewled. He withdrew his fingers too quickly for your liking, and he spat on your already soaked pussy, before lining himself up. “You think you can take all of me right now, baby? Let my thick cock go as deep as it can, huh?” He asked, rubbing the tip against your entrance, smearing the wetness around. You nodded, desperate for anything at this point. “No, no, that won’t do, little bird.” He tsked at you and his free hand wrapped around your hair and tugged slightly, arcing your back as your head got pulled back. You moaned loudly. “Mhm, keep the sound down, we’re in a public area, sweetheart.” He said with a small chuckle. “Ask me and mean it.” He ordered, the tip of his throbbing cock so fucking close to glide inside of you. “Fucking fill me, or I swear to god…” you begged, and whatever you wanted to say got lost in your throat, as he slid inside of you swiftly and in one, single thrust, bottomed out.

You shrieked in both pain and pleasure, your legs shaking and if he hadn’t kept a tight grip on your hair and waist, you’d probably collapse. “Oh, good girl, look at you taking all of me… Sit, it looks to fucking good to see my cock in you, baby…” He mumbled. He didn’t move yet, simply allowing you to adjust.  After a few seconds, you rolled your hips to let him know you were good, and he chuckled darkly. “There’s a good, little slut, darling.” His words combined with his voice sent wetness down your thighs as he began moving, slowly at first, before picking up speed. You felt every single twitch inside of you, and he filled you to the brim. You had never been so fucking full before, and you’d never want to stop, if you were honest. He angled himself a little better and pistoned in and out of you; you saw stars and a red-hot burning started in your abdomen seconds before your orgasm hit you; it was blinding and your legs were barely functioning as you came around him, your pussy pulling him deeper, as your thighs got soaked and he moaned. “Fuuuuck, you’re so fucking tight, Y/N… Fuck, I’m not going to last long…” He moaned as you twitched around him and met his thrust, the sound of your skin slapping against each other filling the otherwise quiet room. “Fucking fill me, please… I want to feel you cum, I’m b-begging you…” you moaned, almost delirious at this point. He roared and bit down on your shoulder, before he picked up speed and began fucking you fiercely, his tick and long cock hitting your cervix slightly. You mewled and another rush of wetness went down your legs, as you neared another orgasm while he whispered praise and encouragements in your ear.

“Look at that fucking… Oh, fuck…” He groaned and thrusted harder than ever, his rhythm becoming irregular. “Look at you taking me so well, darling… You’re doing so good for me, can you cum again?” He licked the spot, he had just bitten. “Can you cum for me again, baby girl? Let me… Fuck… Feel you cum again?”

As if you could deny him.

He clamped a hand over your mouth as you came wit a scream, your pussy tightening and pulsing around his length as he fucked you into oblivion. He roared with pleasure and his hand moved from your waist to your ass, grabbing it harshly before picking up speed and chased his own high. You were shaking, barely coherent as he fucked you relentlessly. “Henry… Fuck, please… Let me feel you cum… Fuck, p-please, I want to feel you fill me, please…” You moaned his name like a prayer, and he growled before his speed stuttered. “Fuck, baby… I’m going to fill you up, you’ll be dripping for days… I’m so fucking deep in your tight pussy…” he mumbled, his hand bruising your ass, wile he pistoned back and forth; he fell silent for half a second, before you felt him swell and twitch slightly. “Tell me you’re mine.” He growled. “Mine.” His cock pounded you relentlessly. “H-henry… Shit, y-yes, yes, I’m yours!” You mewled as he twitched again.

Ropes of his cum painted your insides, and you came with him as you felt the heat of his spend inside of you. Henry growled as you tightened around him again, and he jerked his hips so he was a deep as e could be, whispering praise to you, as you rode out your own orgasm.

 You stayed bent over the creaky counter, sweat dripping form the both of you, his cock still inside of you, for a few minutes, trying to catch your breath.

“Shit, that was…” he whispered, kissing the bitemark on your shoulder gently. You shivered. “Mhmm…” Words did kind of fail you at the moment. He seemed to understand whatever you meant, at any rate, and chuckled gently, before slowly pulling out with a hiss. “Jesus Christ… You’re a fucking wonder, you know that, Y/N?” He asked, the sweetest smile painting his features. You grinned with slightly bruised lips, and pulled your shorts back up. No reason to try and clean up. “Says you.” He bent down and grabbed the black thong, that was more string than fabric at this point, at stuffed it in the pocket of his sweatpants.

“Sentimental value, you know?” You laughed. “Does this mean I get to see your surprise-move?” You asked jokingly. He cocked his eyebrow and a smile spread across his face – he was a goddamn Adonis.

“Well, I do have more wine in my apartment… And a bed…”

“Lead the way.”

 TAGLIST:

@acaceta @a-skov @buckyshattergirl​ @angelmather1 @cooldreamlandsandwich @doubletriplepowerbomb @est1887@enchantedbytomandhenry @fionnthebandersnacc @herroyalbubbliness @jeepgirls-stuff @Keiva1000 @kebabgirl67 @littlebirdofrivia @luclittlepond @mis-lil-red @multifanficdom @one-sweet-gubler @pandaxnienke @perfunctory-username69 @penneferofvenerburg @sleutherclaw @sofiebstar @summersong69 @spookyboogyuniverse @stardusted26 @thereisa8ella @timetraveller4@thatonechickhere @themanfromu @thelastpyle @tragicphoenix13 @yourlocalhoney @wheretheriversrunintothesea @severewobblerlightdragon @leigh70 @phildunphyisadilf​

[ofzahras]

where: outside of the new york public library open: to anyone!

A drawn-out sigh escaped Zahra's lips as she stared at the massive, blue Ikea storage bag filled with books to the point where it would be a miracle if the bag remained intact for the last few steps. It had become evident she would not be finishing - or even opening - most of them in time, and paying late fees for the lot didn't exactly appeal to her. So, there she stood, trying to steady her breathing before entering the building. Evidently she needed to invest in a gym membership if she were to start lugging dozens of unread books on a weekly basis.

Feeling someone's presence next to her, she glanced at them almost sheepishly. "Don't ask," she muttered before flashing a nervous smile, "please."

[dewedup]

Anon here again. Upon seeing one of your reblogs, I know what to request :) Rain/Dew daddy Rain. Go wild. <3

you said go wild and i took that to heart

i was going to use this as an excuse to try my hand at writing some absolutely filthy smut, i hope you enjoy!

earthly delight (raindrop)

“Thank you,” Dew whispers, looking down to the ground submissively. Rain’s gloved hand wraps tightly under Dew’s chin, tilting his head back up to stare directly into his eyes.

“Thank you what?” Rain snarls, his lip curling back to reveal his fangs in a predatory manner. If Dew wasn’t already turned on, the look of disgust on Rain’s face would have him rock hard instantly.

“Thank you, Daddy.”

-

or Rain's just in the greenhouse trying to get some peace and quiet but Dew is bored and horny.

18+ ONLY

Pairing: Dewdrop x Rain (Raindrop)

Fandom: The Band Ghost

Words: 2,490

Tags: Daddy Kink, Face Slapping, Improvised Sex Toys, improvised lube, Spit Kink, Facials, Come Swallowing, Come Eating, Spanking, gardening kink?, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Explicit Sexual Content, Anal Play, Semi-Public Sex, Dewdrop Is A Little Shit, Smut, Overstimulation, Daddy Rain, Bratty Dew

Read below the cut or AO3 link

a massive, love-filled shoutout to @jimothybarnes for being the best beta, smut-writing guide, cheerleader, for talking about ideas and motivating me to work this out and catching things my terrible eyes missed (any remaining errors or mistakes are all me though!)

Something about the feeling of burrowing his hands into soft dirt, cradling the roots of a new bloom with a touch so delicate it could ghost the surface of a body of water without creating as much as ripple, gives Rain the deepest sense of peace. He knows exactly why Mountain chooses to spend so much time in the greenhouse, the fresh oxygen tinged with the gritty smell of fertilizer is calming. It’s why he doesn’t hesitate to take Mountain up on his offer of helping with repotting some of the seeds that had started to take root. 

He's a natural, and his ability to sense the level of hydration in the plants comes in handy, instantly learning how much water would suffice for each species. He even found a plant identification textbook in the library and will lay in bed at night, absorbing the information like a plant absorbs the sunlight.  

Mountain left a little while ago, Aurora was trying to build an IKEA shelf for her room, but it was getting a little too tall for her to reach. Mount, taking pity on the vertically challenged ghoulette, left Rain to his own devices in the greenhouse. 

Rain places the seedling into the larger pot, covering the hole with dirt and singing softly to the plant in ghoulish as he restores it to its former glory. Mountain insists that singing inspires the plants to grow and Rain hasn’t read that in his textbook, but as a novice gardener he has no right to question Mountain’s ethics. He therefore calls forth the soft lullabies of his childhood for the lives he holds in his hands. 

Rain startles as a handful of dirt hits the back of his neck, knocking over the watering jug beside him in his surprise. He turns around to see Dew smirking from a few feet away, brushing his hand onto his pant leg to remove any lingering debris. 

“How long have you been there?” Rain demands, his voice cracking slightly in embarrassment at having been caught by surprise. Dew shrugs his shoulders, taking a few steps closer as his claws trail along the leaves of the plants in his direct vicinity. 

“I’d say I’m at least three songs deep,” Dew chuckles, coming to a stop in front of Rain. “I haven’t heard those in centuries, do you take requests?” Rain flushes brightly at being caught in the act. Mountain was definitely fucking with him about the singing, he’d have to address that later. 

“I’d like to request that you fuck off and go bother somebody else,” Rain replies, irritation seeping into his tone at the interruption of his peace and quiet. He realizes his mistake as Dew’s eyes flash dangerously, the challenge written in the way his lips tilt upwards.

“Oh yeah you’d like that wouldn’t you?” Dew teases, reaching out to push the hand trowel Rain had left on the counter, knocking it onto the floor while never breaking eye contact. Rain’s entire body tenses as Dew smiles up at him innocently. He takes a deep breath through his nose, taking his time to respond as Dew continues to stare at him, raising his eyebrows suggestively.

“Pick it up.” The authoritative tone Rain uses seems to be exactly what Dew’s looking for as he grins up at the water ghoul. But then again, he also isn’t one to give in that easily. 

“I don’t think I will,” Dew argues, but the words have barely left his lips before a resounding smack echoes across the greenhouse, Rain’s palm making firm contact with Dew’s left cheek. The fire ghoul’s head snaps to the side at the force and he shakes it slightly before looking back up at Rain’s stoic face.

“I said, pick it up.” Rain repeats, using a gloved hand to point to the ground where the trowel lays. Dew swallows loudly as he breaks eye contact, ducking his head as he slowly lowers himself to the dirt-covered floor, kneeling to pick up the tool he knocked off the table. He remains on his knees as he holds the trowel in his palms, raising it to Rain. The water ghoul runs his eyes over the offering, seeming to weigh the meaning of the gesture with an almost bored look. Dew tenses in anticipation the longer Rain towers over him in consideration, his cock hardening in interest at the blatant display of disregard, as if he’s not even worth Rain’s time.   

Rain seems to reach a verdict, his hand snapping out once again, making contact with Dew’s cheek again. The back of his knuckles hit the hardest and Dew’s a little disappointed that Rain’s still wearing gardening gloves, he relishes the sweet sting the pretty rings he wears leave with each brush against his cheek. 

“Thank you,” Dew whispers, looking down to the ground submissively. Rain’s gloved hand wraps tightly under Dew’s chin, tilting his head back up to stare directly into his eyes. 

“Thank you what?” Rain snarls, his lip curling back to reveal his fangs in a predatory manner. If Dew wasn’t already turned on, the look of disgust on Rain’s face would have him rock hard instantly. 

“Thank you, Daddy,” Dew corrects, shifting slightly as the water from the spilled jug seeps into his pants at the knees, cold and uncomfortable as Rain just watches from above with disinterest. He takes note of Dew’s discomfort but makes no move to let the ghoul rise from his position, instead watching as the wet patches spread over the material of his pants.

“Good ghoul,” Rain praises, moving his hand from Dew’s chin to his cheek, caressing where it’s stained red from the attention he’s given it. “A treat for such a good boy,” Rain murmurs, circling Dew’s mouth with his thumb before resting it on his bottom lip. Dew eagerly bites down on the material, keeping a hold of it as Rain tugs his hand back. They repeat this process with each finger, Dew’s teeth clenching around the fingertips of the gloves as Rain works his hand free until the glove falls off completely, Dew letting it hit the ground as he readies for the second glove. 

The backhand across his cheek is more powerful than the previous, the rings no longer being covered leave two small cuts on Dew’s cheekbone as he looks up at Rain in confusion. 

“I didn’t say to drop it,” Rain drawls in disappointment, gesturing to the glove on the ground. Dew reaches to grab it but freezes as Rain tsks, the sound of his tongue echoing in the empty greenhouse. "Not with your hands.”

Dew glances warily at the glove, now sitting in the same puddle of muddy water that he is currently kneeling in. Rain growls low in his throat, the warning clear as Dew braces his hands on the floor, lowering his upper half to the ground as he stretches his neck, teeth securing the glove for a second time. He returns to his kneeling position, the glove dripping dirt-tinged water onto his clothes as he presents the prize back to Rain, feeling more like a dog than a ghoul as he waits. Rain pauses for a minute, before reaching out, pinching the glove by a small, clean corner as he raises it to his eye-level, observing the object longer than necessary as Dew looks up at him, waiting eagerly for the next instruction. 

“It’s dirty,” Rain declares, lowering the glove back to hang dauntingly before Dew’s face. The fire ghoul hesitates briefly before he darts his tongue out, licking tentatively at the piece of clothing. The water tastes earthy on his tongue; the grittiness of the dirt is mixed with a slight tang that must be the Miracle-Gro Mountain denies using. Dew thanks his lucky stars he’s a ghoul and not human, his superior body able to break down the toxins that would surely leave a flesh bag with some lasting side effects. Dew looks up at Rain from beneath his eyelashes as he continues to clean the garment, the water ghoul’s eyes glued to every flick of his tongue. Just when he’s getting into a rhythm, Rain pulls back with a satisfied look. 

“Is that good, Daddy?” The words come out in a desperate plea as Rain adjusts the obvious bulge in his pants. Dew absolutely preens as Rain smiles down at him, the sight as gorgeous as it is every time Dew’s on the receiving end of that look, filled with love and adoration. Rain offers a hand down to the ghoul, which he gladly accepts, being pulled up from his kneeling position. 

As he rises the smile shifts, Rain’s lips tilting into something else, mocking the beautiful smile he’d worn only moments before with a devilish twist. 

In one swift movement Rain spits onto the glove, pulling Dew close and shoving it into his mouth. Dew makes a noise of surprise that’s muffled by the makeshift gag as Rain turns him around and bends him over the edge of the worktable. 

“You know you were being naughty,” Rain drawls, his fingers making quick work of Dew’s pants and exposing him to the humid air of the greenhouse. “And you know what happens when you’re being naughty, don’t you baby?”

The ‘yes Daddy’ is unrecognizable with the glove in his mouth, but Rain can put two and two together. His hand runs teasingly along the ghoul’s ass before he raises and brings it down firmly, the skin-to-skin contact tingling his palm with the force exerted. Dew moans loudly into the glove, wiggling in pleasure. Rain coos softly, rubbing at the red marred flesh. An idea hits him as his eyes land on the forgotten trowel and he’s grabbing it in the next second, admiring the tool as Dew looks back over his shoulder in anticipation. 

“I think your punishment will be that you don’t get my cock,” Rain muses aloud, ignoring the muffled whine the fire ghoul releases. He tuts softly as he bends down scooping up a handful of mud from the floor. He coats the handle of the trowel in the mixture, making sure it’s completely covered, before bringing it to Dew’s tight asshole. 

Dew’s eyes widen in surprise as he watches the best he can, his dick twitching at the malevolent look on Rain’s face. Rain pushes the handle, forcing Dew to open up to let it in. Dew lets out a hiss at the breach, the handle is big enough to burn without any prep and the grittiness from the mud catching his skin in a stinging pain. Rain eases it in, twisting and pushing as he works open the ghoul below him, the layer of filth around the puckered hole building the further he pushes in. He brings his hand down again, spanking with the same palm he used to gather the ‘lube’. The dirt leaves a perfect image of his hand on Dew’s ass cheek, the splattering flecks surrounding it creating the most beautiful work of art. 

Rain wishes he had a camera to capture how perfect his ghoul looks right now. 

“So good for Daddy,” Rain purrs, and Dew clenches tightly around the handle of the trowel. He’ll need at least three showers before he feels any semblance of clean again, but the added texture of the dirt feels unholy now, as Rain starts to fuck into him in earnest with the gardening tool.

Dew can feel the drool that manages to escape the glove sliding down his chin, every pant and moan coming out like ancient ghoulish, unrecognizable. His eyes roll back into his head as Rain angles the trowel so that it’s brushing right against his prostate, pleasure sparking all the way to his fingertips from the inside. 

Dew yelps as Rain’s hand finds it’s home around his painfully hard cock, the dirt adding to the sensation as he jerks him off furiously, the overstimulation of both movements pushing Dew over the edge almost instantly. 

Rain doesn’t let up, continuing to move his hands as Dew writhes under him, flinching with each movement. 

“C’mon baby, do it again for me,” Rain begs, Dew mewling pathetically in response as every touch feels like an electric shock. He knows he won’t be able to cum again so soon, but fuck would he do anything to please the water ghoul above him. Unintelligible babbles leave his glove-filled mouth as Rain continues the torturous touches, milking his already spent cock. 

Rain finally releases the ghoul before him, removing the hand trowel and leaving wet open-mouthed kisses along Dew’s neck as he runs his fingers over his slim frame, resting them lightly on the dip of his hips. He pulls the ghoul into him, using the sharp edges of Dew’s body to bring himself closer to the edge of his own pleasure.  Dew whines at his lack of involvement and Rain shushes him, turning his body around until Dew is kneeling before him once again. He carefully removes the glove from Dew’s mouth, the fire ghoul licking his lips with the new-found freedom before he discreetly wipes the drool from his chin. 

“Are you thirsty, baby?” Rain purrs, running his claws delicately down Dew’s cheek, brushing over the cuts from earlier, earning a hiss from the fire ghoul. Dew stares at him, eyes wide, and nods his head.

“Yes, Daddy,” Dew whimpers, pleading eyes staring up at Rain from underneath his lashes and Rain has to bite his lip to stifle the filthy groan that tries to escape. His gaze drops down to Dew's lips, and Rain can't help but admire how pink and inviting they look. He licks his own lips unconsciously, and Dew's eyes follow the motion. 

Rain’s hand moves from Dew’s cheek to his chin, grasping tightly as Dew keeps eye contact as he slowly opens his mouth, stretching as far as he can and sticking his tongue out slightly. Rain leans closer and spits directly into his mouth, the saliva landing on Dew’s tongue and he swallows like he’s been in the desert heat for days without water. 

A hungry roar rips from Rain’s throat as he jerks off furiously, pointing towards Dew’s open mouth as he comes with a shuddering groan. Dew tries to catch everything on his tongue, opening as wide as he possibly can. Rain watches in fascination as Dew uses his tongue to push the mess almost spilling out of his mouth, before he swallows slowly, sticking his tongue back out to show Rain his hard work. Rain’s breath hitches at the deliberate movements, his lips spreading into a delicious grin before he leans down, stopping in front of Dew’s mouth, before licking out at the corner, collecting some of the seed he hadn’t managed to get into the hole. He keeps the mess on his tongue, showing the fire ghoul his own cleaning skills before he swallows down the taste of himself. 

[mysticcollectionbee]

Loki S2 Ep.2 (Breaking Brad): Pros & Cons

(SPOILERS!)

First the Bad to get it out of the way:

• Biggest thing I got a problem with: NOT a fan of the TVA brutality thing and really hope the TVA isn't seen as a 'flawed' system but just a system built to be awful. Only thing I agree with Sylvie is that the overall system is bad. And the protags shouldn't be chill using these tactics. Gonna hope this was just a one time thing because of X-5 just being a massive dick and pissing them to an extreme extent (Doesn't make it right, but if someone blamed me for a loved ones death...I might loose my morals a bit too).

• Sylvie being a bitch to Loki FOR NO REASON. Like everything else going on with her I love, but, why is she being horrible to Loki? He didn't betray or stop her. SHE BETRAYED HIM AND SCREWED EVERYTHING OVER, BUT SHE'S THE PISSED ONE?

Now that we got all the bad out of the way, onto the good stuff:

•Badass Loki, with MAGIC, with a bit of intimidation? YES. Sure, I don't like him and Mobius torturing X-5 BUT I'm all for Loki weaponizing his villainous history. And surprisingly keeping his temper under control. Nice.

• Unlike Mobius...My dude ya good? I love what this could be hinting and going for. And also showing that he isn't pure good, but as Loki said, Not all good which is why they get along.

• Loki being the one that kept a cool head and is the one trying to comfort is so interesting! He's never tried doing that for anyone besides Thor in a few small scenes. And that's his brother! He just wants to be there for Mobius and let him have some pie while they chill and talk stuff out, even trying to relate to mobius (albeit a funny ridiculous comparison).

•Both of the time duos being horrible with tech makes a bit too much sense. They are great at manipulating and reading people, but they probably can't build a single IKEA chair.

•CASEY! I love Casey actually becoming more of an important/useful character. And apparently a fan of O.B. So maybe our tech guy won't have to wait hundreds of years for a visitor anymore!

•B-15 being the heart of the team and the TVA, she should be in charge. Please. Also I need an offical name for her and D-90 because I really want to call them by actual names.

•X-5 is an asshole but a well written and neat asshole. I do kinda want him to get back to his movie life, that way he won't be such a dick to the characters I like and he gets to keep having his dream life. Win-win.

• Sylvie gets a fun retirement life please! I don't think her being on the team is good for her or for the team. I think she should only join when her life is endangered and when it's all over get back to it. I used to think she might join Loki and Mobius on maybe continuing fighting Kang after the season is over but like...That's not her fight? Leaver her be. And bad for the team cause well...The morale is already kinda shit and she's gonna be miserable and make everyone else miserable too.

• Just realized this: Is everyone keeping secrets??? Loki seemed to not have been planning to tell the others about the Ravonna and HWR convo until it was needed to mention (Mobius literally was asking, "When were you gonna-" then was caught off), Mobius seems to already know or have a serious fear that he's hiding, B-15 has yet to mention what she saw of her past life despite it obviously leaving an impact, etc.

[separatist-apologist]

MB I have very important business now that you know the bg3 companions, let's go for a classic. Who is the best companion to take to ikea?

Okay first of all THANK YOU. Secondly though, I'm only doing main companions because Jaheria died during our fight at Moonrise and it took me SO LONG to win that I wasn't re-doing it and I've never one time been tempted to pick Minthara over Halsin.

This is, as always, worst to best

Lae'zel- She would not understand the purpose or the point. But what do you need? Nothing, we just came to look and waste four hours pretending we could live this way. I do not comprehend the nonsense of your species.

Shadowheart- I know this will be controversial but damn I feel like she would just complain and sneer the entire time. She's up to the experience until you're halfway through the kitchen section and she suddenly gets mad but doesn't TELL you. The whole vibe shifts and she's being curt so you rush yourself out of there

Halsin- Look, I just think Mr. Nature would not like seeing just how many. trees were felled in order to make a cheap cabinet that isn't going to last you longer than two-three years.

Astarion- I know someone won't like this because it SEEMS like he should enjoy it, and he does for a while. PAPER light fixtures? PLYWOOD furniture? Oh darling. This is awful, take me somewhere people have TASTE.

Gale- It's possible to be TOO enthusiastic about something, actually. Gale. I'm begging you, PUT THE TRINKET DOWN. You actually do not need to touch everything, has anyone told you that? What was supposed to be a light hearted two hour day has spanned the full business hours of ikea and if Gale doesn't stop picking up plants, you're going to wait until the store closes and hunt him for sport.

Wyll- An altogether good time with the Blade of the Frontiers. Does he entirely get what we're doing here at 10am on a Saturday? No, but he DID wear walking shoes and he will definitely stage a half-hearted fight with you in one of the living rooms. You spend half the day making jokes about childhood trauma, and the other half trying to figure out how to get that impulse buy cabinet home in his subaru (look I know this is in my heart okay?)

Karlach- You already knew. The RIGHT enthusiasm and so much hype. OH MAN MEATBALLS? Fuck yes. Not only does Karlach also want to lay down on one of the massive beds and play pretend that you could absolutely live this way, but she's willing to help you build the furniture (she's got tools at home, this is going to be so easy she says!). Youre relationship is better for going to ikea

[fusionpoweredasexual]

Evil science is not just chemistry!

There is a very common misconception about evil science which is that it´s all chemistry. Most evil scientists in pop culture are chemists with weird colored stains on their lab coats (horribly unsafe and irresponsible but that´s not the point I'm trying to make today). Compared to the amount of test tubes and Bunsen burners you never see any evil radio telescopes or evil MRI machines. I think this stereotype stems from the fact that evil chemists tend to die in very spectacular ways.

Evil chemists usually tend to get incinerated by massive fireballs or swallowed by tsunamis of acid. This is nearly always more dramatic than most other evil scientists, to combat this misconception and spread more awareness about evil science, I´ve constructed a short list detailing the most common types of death for different disciplines of evil science.

Evil physicists tend to get stuck and starve inside the particle accelerators, or they get crushed by the mountains or whiteboards, notebooks and papers that tend to accumulate in their rooms.

Evil zoologists get eaten at an alarming rate during field expeditions, and those that aren´t are usually found with poison in their bloodstream.

Evil geneticists and evil roboticists are more alike than you´d think, since they are usually killed by their artificially created lifeforms in extremely preventable situations usually stemming from treating said creations in very cruel ways.

No one has seen the evil astronomers since they tried to build a death star around Jupiter.

Evil Immunologists, the scientists specializing in weird diseases and their impact on humans, I think their cause of death is quite obvious.

Evil engineers tend to kill each other fighting for an obscure type of screw that only exists in a single IKEA in the world that they somehow all need for their project, and if you care about your personal wellbeing do not suggest that they replace it with a more common type of screw.

So the next time you see an evil chemist dying spectacularly as their laboratory gets swallowed by fire and poison, please do remember that that is not representative evil science as a whole.

This has been an evil science PSA with you friendly neighbourhood supervillain, Fusionpoweredasexual, thank you for listening to my ted talk.

[minnowtank]

so basically in my oc story it’s 2412 and everyone on earth lives on the planet exodus now due to a biological warfare accident which continues to affect people centuries later in the form of Fosse syndrome. the world has like a really weird version of communism where withering of the state doesn’t occur and religions and national differences and therefore the social constructs of race persist i’m sorry this is so bad you need context for this like it involves a hawaiian communist terrorist named kauhane becoming a saint in what later becomes neo-catholicism because a bunch of radicalized christian americans believed he could see into the future (he actually could) and he was like chosen by god and the communist terrorist also believed this and it made the politics all weird as a consequence. and then other stuff like the fosse gas affecting the state of politics. still working on the politics but that’s basically a theme of like oh everyone’s on a different planet are nations arbitrary ?? is anyone really anything anymore? and people like want to know where they “really” come from etc. and stuff and that’s a theme

so the plot is that a neo-catholic novice in the year 2412 named bianca must use her future-seeing abilities to stop a swedish ethnonationalist from creating a new hybrid species of super-swedes and the swedish guy in question is using these immortal worms that go in your brain and give you the ability to regrow limbs and stuff that are actually Adam, Eve, and Cain which would also take a while to explain lol but his name is stefan and he’s like wow sweden sucks now we used to be so great and he had a meltdown about ikea no longer existing once canonically and he becomes obsessed with Old World notions of racism and basically there are barely any ethnic swedes left due to a bunch of reasons involving eugenics in the past (they wanted to get rid of fosse syndrome in ethnic swedes) and so there are like barely any ethnic swedes and he wants to use the worms and yeah the worms can do stuff like “build themselves in the womb” and then it opens questions about like what the ideal human would actually look like if the fetus had the ability to create itself while in utero etc and things like that so whatever. he has a son with fosse syndrome that makes him have schizophrenic that cannot be medicated bc being fosse makes you resistant to a bunch of modern medicine. and the son has the adam worm while stefan has the cain worm and the son who is named alex btw is like i don’t wanna make a super race please let me kill myself instead but he’s being controlled by stefan and the worms. and then there’s that whole thing👍and there are other mutations regarding fosse syndrome and there’s like “epicentre nations” and other stuff and eugenics plot lines and things that will also take a while to explain. and the son and stefan are the remaining descendants of the long defunct swedish royal family.

also if the hybrid species super swede is born it will destroy the reality due to it breaking the law of evolution and i will explain that in the story also the virgin mary exists and like there’s that whole thing too and god exists but he left the universe and there’s the “purpose paradox” going on with god and stuff and yeah

and yeah there are a bunch of characters and there are 5 “main” protags: bianca, jacquie, enji (he has the eve worm and there’s backstory for that), sloane, and yousef and the plot is complicated and i’m not done but i want to keep going with it so idk. oh also settler colonial states don’t exist anymore there’s a country called the union of new world republics and it’s connected to the weird saint terrorist guy but like that guy was involved with their movement while also kind of being weird on the side but he was helpful to them despite being a massive catholic because his future vision constantly saved their asses from assassination and their views like clashed with his

[usernamemybeloathed]

I wrote a little divorce fic for LeoVil week. A massive challenge for me, as these two pull me way out of my comfort zone, but when I saw the prompt I just had to.

Things hadn't been easy lately between Leona and Vil, but when were they? Recently, it felt to Leona as though things had become harder still. It all came to a head as Vil asked Leona to build some flat-pack furniture, causing the pair of them to face some home truths about their relationship.

Written for LeoVil Week 2024 for the prompt: building an Ikea cabinet.

[girl4music]

Trust me, you’re not alone in the way you feel with the finale. I feel you so deeply on the dislike for Season 7.

The main problem with Season 7 is that they set up character arcs and narratives and themes only to just drop them and do something else or ignore them completely. Five By Five Takes gave the analogy of buying an IKEA desk and instead of constructing the parts in the proper and most logical way, just dump them on the floor and leave what you’re supposed to get from it a huge mess. Don’t even bother picking them up, let alone actually building the damn desk.

Season 7 is exactly like that. There’s no proper narrative undertaking for any set up they have - it’s all just left there. They have great ideas and honestly some great starter episodes and setups for everything… I mean ‘Lessons’, ‘Beneath You’, ‘Conversations With Dead People’, ‘Help’, ‘Selfless’, ‘Same Time, Same Place’… are fantastic episodes that don’t really suffer from the careless sloppy writing of the later episodes and a weighty main plot that’s that badly executed that it buckles under its own weight. It’s a massive inconsistent mess what they do with the latter half of the season. And they just neglect to properly use all of what was set up in the former half for this messy ass main plot with characters no one even cares about nor would be able to get any satisfying character representation or development so that we can learn to care about them because it’s the final season. There’s no time for any of that character stuff. Not even with the main characters. The point is to CONCLUDE them - to wrap up and tie together this amazing character-driven saga with its arcs and give them all a compelling and satisfying endgame. But nope… this never happens because there’s no time with all the rest of what’s going on taking the majority of the focus for the season. The final fucking season.

To say I’m disappointed is an understatement. But I can’t say I hate the entire season because there is some great episodes from it that arguably are some of the best in the entire show. It’s just I’m so dissatisfied with how they execute everything. They don’t really address Willow and her magic. They don’t talk about Tara’s death and let us properly grieve for her. They don’t properly patch up Willow and Buffy’s relationship… there’s a lot left there. Everything just feels like it’s done wrong. And I can’t even say that I wish they had just dropped Season 6 and 7 entirely because no Dark Willow and no ‘Once More, With Feeling’. 😢

On the flip side - there’s Season 5…

I have yet to see any season of any show whatsoever- supernatural/fantasy or otherwise - outdo the brilliance of Season 5 and its stellar finale. That really set the bar high for TV show storytelling because that is well balanced both in its plot and in its characterization and seamlessly ties the two together in such a way that is so clever and is yet to be beaten or even challenged if I’m honest. Nothing touches it.

[strangerhands]

6 with the moon boys 💙

6. go clothes shopping with, go to ikea with, go grocery shopping with

OMG IM SO HAPPY RN BECAUSE I WANTED TO ANSWER THIS WHEN I FIRST SAW THAT POST THANK YOU FRAN!!😁😁

i would go clothes shopping with marc🥰 i think we actually have sorta similar styles (at least until i become more comfortable with wearing more of what i want,,) and we would gravitate towards a lot of the same things lol #matchinggg we'd very much just: *holds up item* "?" "yes." i also 10000% agree with @/softlyspector's hc and drabbles about marc having sensory issues with certain materials and i do too😭😭 we can test and freak out (positively and negatively) over things together lol. i would also try to get him some different things he would maybe not really normally consider, and reassure him that he would literally look good in damn near everything because he would. and he'd probably do the same to me🥺😭 marc definitely has the most self control of the three but has to try so hard to try not to indulge in you with everything because you just look so damn good. oh god imagine the sweet lovey look in his eyes when you try on clothes with him😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭

IKEA DATE WITH JAKEEEE ive only been to ikea once and it was like equal parts amazing and a nightmare,, it is just so big in there,,, but i would love just perusing cute furniture with him, looking at their different sets, testing out couches, and trying to pronounce the names of things lol, i think he would actually be good at it but plays it up to be funny for you. i think jake would be the handyman of the three and enjoys building and creating things🥺🥺 and i think he has a great sense of direction and is actually able to follow the directions so we probably wouldnt get lost lmao. hes very much indulgent of you and what you want, while also knowing when to say no lol. BUT. he would buy me all the stuffies my heart desires (eight massive djungelskogs and a blåhaj). stopping by the cafeteria (?) to buy some food and have lunch together once we've decided on what to buy🥺🥺 sharing an ice cream😭😭 he is so husband

and i would go grocery shopping with steven🥰 i actually think steven enjoys cooking, but im still 50/50 on if hes actually good at it or not😭😭 but us shopping together might actually be a bit of a disaster,, just constantly getting distracted and buying things we dont need😭😭 steven would probably forget a lot of what we came for but i alwayssss make shopping lists so we would be alright. im definitely more indulgent than he is though so even though we would both get things we didnt come for, he would know when to say no to me😭 but aaa just pushing around a cart with him, planning out the week with what we buy, sharing ideas of what we want to cook, and joking around. i think steven is just like me and gets super excited when seeing something he likes or has nostalgia over. we are both just: *sees childhood snack* *loudest gasp known to man* "OHMYGOD THEY HAVE THIS?! I USED TO EAT THESE ALL THE TIME OHMYGOD WE NEED TO GET THESE YOU HAVE TO TRY THEM THEYRE SO GOOD!!!!" *shaking with excitement* overall a fun slightly disfunctional excursion🥰🥰

eeek this was so fun and sweet to think about🥹🥹🫶

[ceasarslegion]

I can't decide where to go today so poll time

If youre not from edmonton you can vote too don't be shy. Google them both and decide based on vibes

Pros of both:

-Southgate is on the way to south common. Many things there without the crowd. Also ikea and a standalone indigo, maybe even the movie theater which is much bigger than the one in west ed. I want to get puzzle books for my night shifts because I sit there staring at the wall a lot and ikea could have stuff for my deck. Canadian tire could have plants for me and there's also a very large Michael's there.

-west ed is massive. Everything is there I already listed except for ikea and Canadian tire (that I know of). I want the nice bath bombs and they have a lush, also the largest indigo in the city. Also a candy shop. And many smaller places to look at. Even a build a bear and an Asian grocery store, many snacks there. Also open much longer and I'm on night shift circadian rhythms now. Also there's a theme park and a Waterpark inside the mall but idk if I wanna pay for those.

Cons:

-South common is very out of the way compared to west ed. I need two transit methods to get there from here. I'd also have to pay for an Uber back if I got deck stuff at ikea. Can just get friends with cars to drive me in the future. Also if I enter an ikea I WILL spend 200 dollars because I have no self control in the land of Swedish furniture

-wem is a tourist trap because it used to be the biggest mall in the world and I think is still the biggest in NA, at least in canada. Crowded beyond belief 24/7. I don't really get noise or crowd overstimulated anymore because of my job but it is just annoying. Also the Asian grocery store sold me moldy garlic once so idk how much I trust it anymore

[violetaerie]

Just a little life update - officially moved into my new building, I’m really tired ヽ( ´¬`)ノ

Hit up the local IKEA and did a massive shop, I’m so happy to be able to decorate my new place and make it feel like home :)

…now if anyone’s got tips for making friends in university I’d love to hear em cuz I’ve got major social anxiety (ノД`)"