Boyfriends

If you see this you’re legally obligated to reblog and tag with the book you’re currently reading

Can you hear me now?

Mushy May '24 Day 15: Painting on each other

WC: 340

Relationship: Dewdrop/Rain

Read under the cut or on AO3.

What is now their little custom had started out very differently; with Rain idly running his cold fingertips over Dewdrop’s bare back one night—both of them as relaxed as a ghoul can be.

The water ghoul traced invisible shapes on his mate’s warm skin, pressing a claw to it now and then to watch it redden. Rain didn’t know why he loved doing that so much, but he did, and Dewdrop loved indulging him.

“What’s that?” Rain asked him once, and it evolved into a guessing game that would end with an ‘I love you’ written on Dewdrop’s back and finished off with a kiss to the nape of his neck every single time.

Years later, it’s barely the same.

Rain hums as he dips the tip of a thin brush into a little vial filled with black paint. He looks over his canvas—planning. The fire ghoul lays under him half asleep, waiting for the gentle touches of his mate’s brush on his skin to lull him into it fully.

Rain goes with his gut. He puts his brush down just under the back of Dewdrop’s ear and watches it twitch before sliding down over his neck, shoulder blades, spine, lover back—leaving a simple, but beautiful swirl in his wake. He pauses next to the base of the fire ghoul’s tail, nearly wrapping the paint around it.

He goes back up and makes the long line branch out into more swirls until Dewdrop looks as if he’s been covered by vines. Rain picks up color, then, and makes it all look real as his mate sleeps.

The water ghoul loves seeing his art on something else he considers an artwork, loves having Dewdrop all to himself, loves having his trust and permission for marking him. Whether it’s just paint or bite and claw marks or cum or whatever else the water ghoul would want to cover him in.

He always tells Rain that he must settle on a design—he wants it tattooed, carved into his skin forever.

I'm gonna need some dollar bills.

ghost stripper au when

Idk if i’m looking for things that don’t exist or something, or if i’m really late to this realization cause i haven’t interacted with ghost content too much in like a year, but i noticed that sodo almost always gets called dewdrop in fics, but on social media and irl, he more often than not gets called sodo.

Ppl probably already came to that conclusion but i still wanted to share cause i was happy i noticed it

-🪱

Yes!! This is a THING.

Unmasked Dewdrop actually goes by "Sodo" (or Sodomizer) in real life and has for like....15 years at least.

But there are a lot of fans who don't know that, or don't care, and have heard him referred to that way and have decided that Dew is actually Sodo.

To me, personally, it's a big ick. And it makes me uncomfortable to refer to the character as Sodo. If we're talking about the musician? He's Sodo, for sure. If it's the ghoul? Dewdrop. I just need to keep that separation. They're not the same person. Sodo plays Dewdrop. But Dewdrop isn't Sodo. Like I can't even read fanfic where he's called Sodo. It makes me feel weird.

Also everyone pronounces Sodo wrong but that's another rant for another time.

Today, tomorrow... probably next week

The unholy ass grab

Mushy May Day 11

(Bonus prompt 8) first kiss

Pairing; Mountain/Dewdrop

note; this is during Era III

thanks as always to @forlorn-crows for the prompts!

Dew could not stop looking at that tall ass earth ghoul throughout the show, which was bad for the show.

He wanted to hate him, he wanted to hate that overly chilled out ghoul for so long, but it was so hard when he was just so loveable and caring. He made Dew’s coffee sometimes and it was always better than how he made it. At the ministry he would always do a double check on Dew right before Mass, sometimes he even found something to fuss over. He grew flowers for him, for hell’s sake. He was so caring, and it was so infuriating.

And oh, the passion that Mountain possessed. He treated his kit better than Dew ever treated his bass. He always did double, triple checks preshow to make sure he would be good to perform at his peak. And his peak was just… peak. He swung his sticks and kicked his legs and whatever else with so much enthusiasm, it was almost overwhelming to watch.

It was after bows, and Dew couldn’t get off of stage any faster to try and catch that lanky ghoul. Mountain was chatting with Ifrit about something, something that he honestly could care less about, because he needed to be with Mountain, needed to do something with him.

“Mount!” Dew called out. Mountain turned and stopped, his eyes striking against the chrome of the mask. He tilted his head in a question and Dew simply grabbed his forearm and began walking. Ifrit whistle “go get ‘em!” that he promptly ignored with a huff.

“What’s going on, droplet?” Mountain was ironically stumbling trying to keep up with the water ghoul. Dew gave him no answer and pushed the two of them to a small corner in the venue, somewhere away from prying eyes and any rush of people. He rangled his masks off and stared up at Mountain, breathing heavily. Mountain reluctantly did the same, carefully clicking the mask and balaclava off of his face. His brows were furrowed together and Dew could see his lips form a small frown.

“What’s going on?” Mountain asked again, his voice hushed. Dew shook his head and laughed, what a scene he accidentally created.

“Sorry, nothing, uh-” he took a deep breath and looked back into those eyes, the concern now turned confusion. He smiled slightly, baring his fangs. “You just… I just wanted to say good job. Tonight.”

Mountain blinked at him. “You’re hiding me away to… compliment me?” He chuckled. “Seems pretty excessive, yeah?”

“Yeah, well…” he worried his lip between his teeth, a habit he can already hear Aether lecture to him about again, and sighed. “Good job, man.”

Mountain smiled, bright and genuine. He reached a hand down and rested it against Dew’s cheek, a gesture he leaned into with a hum. Dew could see the cogs rotating in that head of his, something he did often. It was always a good way to get to actually look at him without the problem of being caught.

But those cogs seemed to be working tonight. Slowly, slow enough that Dew could back out at any point, Mountain leaned low and close. Dew met him halfway, hands unsure what to do but hung out in the air as their lips pressed together in a chaste kiss. A peck, really. They leaned their foreheads together, eyes locked in a fierce staring contest that was way too intimate to be anything challenging. Mountain kissed him one more time, smiling into it.

“Thanks.” He mumbled when he pulled away.

my favorite part of any kelly clarkson song is when i almost blackout from oxygen deprivation while trying to sing the entire song