#but anway

[yeonjune]

TOMORROW X TOGETHER ✙ 'Chasing That Feeling' Official Teaser

[tohot4u]

For my liege @acesandocs

[cartoonybus]

i wish i had a decent computer i wanna make love händel in sims 4 so bad 😭

[fandomfairyuniverse]

I adore mew however the fact that his reaction to finding out that the guy he’s seeing does drugs wasn’t “hey maybe that’s related to your insomnia and childhood trauma it might be a good idea to get some help” but was instead “if you stop I’ll let you have sex with me” is insane to me like honey sweetie bestie…… what???

[siixkiing]

☯ @retirementsucks​​ ☯ — macaque smacks him upside on the head! "don't stare too hard, now- don't you know your face can get stuck like that?" 😌

“ — !!”

A startled noise leaves the Great Sage’s lips with a hint of a yelp of pain. Leave it to the six-eared simian to not be gentle with him — putting full force into the blow that landed against the back of his skull. Any lesser being probably would’ve been in need of medical care or worse dead. Luckily, a blow like this was nothing for the golden simian in question. No stranger to taking harsh blows like the one he had just been gifted by his the dark furred simian.

Hissing softly as he began to tried to sooth the blossoming sting of the hit. Turning to face the offender with an annoyed scowl painted across his features in the moment. This isn’t anything new for the shadow mage to do, not by a long shot. Especially to get a rise out of the king — which worked a majority of the time. 

“I wasn’t staring — “

“ — not like I haven’t seen your visage a million times by now.”

Okay, even if that was true...he would always find Macaque enchanting. Never once boring of the sight before him — especially on the rare occasions where his signature ears would be out. Ever since the first moment to now those ears had always managed to catch his gaze. Memorizing him with their sight and finding them simply divine as they sat there like delicate and beautiful lotus blossoms.

Huffing lightly as he turned his gaze away from the shadow. Still slowly nursing his scalp as the sting began to ebb away.

“Didn’t take you for being so shy about being stared at by others.”

A small jab and tease back at the other, delivered in a small sneer that had little bite to it. Meant to hide the playful nature that it had been delivered in. 

[heavenbarnes]

anyways, as i was saying about older bf!simon and his willingness to please learn

pt 2 to this

“you ever heard of a nut video with sound on?”

obviously, he hasn’t- far as he’s concerned, if you haven’t told him about it then it doesn’t exist to him.

no skin off your nose, you’d spend the rest of your life teaching him about the ‘latest trends’ if it meant he kept sending those filthy fucking videos to your phone.

(your favourites on tiktok were purely filled with ideas)

he’s holed up in a remote location, killing time till he can be home and actually do something to you rather than send you a bloody video about it.

your instructions come through clear and concise, just how he likes:

“it’s what’s written on the can, si- you can pick the setup but i just want to see you cum and, most importantly, i want to hear it”

you’re lucky simon is such a practical guy and maybe you could thank price one day for making him so good at following orders.

when he’s got his alone time he’s setting his phone up to record on the edge of the window sill, moonlight fighting through the curtain to illuminate him.

he’s lost the bulkiest of his gear, down to his tactical trousers and a compression t-shirt. the images in his tattoo sleeve almost move when the light catches them right.

balaclava on (the one that just shows his eyes above the painted image of a skull) and he’s standing up to undo his belt (that you think looks like an airplane seatbelt).

you can hear his boots against the floorboard as he steps back to give you the full view of him undoing his trousers, taking his sweet time because he knows it drives you fucking batty.

he’s so big that the phone is working overtime to get all of him in the frame but you see exactly what you need to- thick thighs at your eye line and massive hands drawing down his fly.

on (you assume) the other side of the globe, you’re at home in your shared bed and you’re propped up right in the middle with the smell of simon engulfing you as you watch the video play out before you.

(if you’d thought about it you should’ve cast it to the bedroom tv, hoping the neighbours didn’t mind)

simon sits back down with his legs spread wide, one hand gripping his thigh as the other rubs himself over his boxers. his eye contact with the camera was fucking intense, like you’d hoped, just like when he’s on top of you.

he’s dressed in all black and the moonlight is obscured but you can still see him firming up in his pants. his eyes flutter, an infinitesimal amount but you’ve been tuned into his every move since you met him.

your thumb leans hard on the volume up button and you can hear the diegetic sound of the building expanding and that usual technical hum that comes with a video. but at this pitch, you could hear him.

his breathing was chopped, chest expanding visibly as he pulled his cock out into clear view. jeeeeesus christ, it was never something you just got used to.

long, reasonably straight, fucking thick. even his hand struggled to make it look smaller as he wrapped around it, giving one dry tug.

as he closed his palm over the tip, you saw him make a swipe before he brought his hand back down considerably smoother than before. you’d had your hands down his pants enough times, man leaked like a fucking faucet.

simon’s head tipped back as he started to pull himself off, balaclava raising just enough to expose some of his throat. if you were there you would be perched in his lap, letting him do the work but running your tongue under the lip of the fabric.

one of the best things about the videos simon sent was, he didn’t really understand how sexy he was. he didn’t think any of the videos particularly watchable so he’d just send them on first take. if you liked them, you liked them- yours was the only opinion that mattered.

what that meant was, you never got b-roll. everything he sent you was unbridled perfection. captured exactly as it happens with no faffing about.

always whatever you’ve asked for, whenever you ask.

(simon’s nothing if not inexplicably obedient)

he brings his hand under his chin to spit into the wide span of his palm, wrapping back around his cock and tugging. his foreskin moved over the head, rolling back down and thick veins bulging under his grasp.

you’d almost forgotten the conditions of your request, totally fucking enamoured by the sight in front of you when it caught you off guard.

a guttural moan ripped out of simon’s chest as he twisted his wrist.

his free hand moved to cup his balls, big and heavy, he rolled them in his palm as another groan sounded out of him. what you wouldn’t give to be knelt between his thighs with the whole lot in your mouth.

you knew how much of an ask this was, you really had to work him up to making noise when it was just you two in bed. these days? you couldn’t shut the man up when he was balls deep and his face was buried in the crook of your neck.

but this was another step, this was him on his own with his crew just through the walls. he’d be a plain liar if he said there wasn’t that rumbling trepidation in his chest. he’d put it to bed though.

all he had to think of was you, one hand gripping your phone and the other between your thighs as you watched him through with a hazy smile- that kept him going.

with the thought still heavy on his mind, you didn’t have to strain to hear your name drift off his lips. his hips bucked into his hand as he did, speeding up the motion of his strokes.

you were going to black out, his tattoos flexing and his chest expanding with every stuttered breath. simon looked like a god among men and he fucking sounded like one too.

“fuck, sweetheart- you’re so fucking filthy giving me orders like this”

your cheeks were burning, he wasn’t wrong but you weren’t expecting him to call you out quite like this.

“what does that make me? always so fucking eager to do what you say? make a dirty old man, yeah?”

wheeeeeew that’ll do it, your thighs snapped together around your hand as your eyes nearly rolled back in your head. whenever you thought you couldn’t take any more, he was always there to do you one better.

“only for you, pet- you can always get whatever you fucking want from me”

and you knew he was serious, that’s what made it all the more debilitating. simon was unshakeable, you’d seen him go out of his way to defy orders if he didn’t think the person worth his time.

when it came to you? you could tell him to kill and he would.

(he probably had)

simon’s hips were twitching, back arching in a way he’d rather die than have anyone else know about. his mouth was hanging open beneath the balaclava, your name and a string of expletives falling off his tongue.

so quick you nearly missed it, the hand that was cradling his balls moved to grip the fabric of his shirt and push it up his toned front. you couldn’t call his abs cut and defined, there was aged layer to them, but they were undeniably there.

you’d rested your head on them, pressed your palms against them, even ridden them enough times to know they were there. regardless, he looked fucking perfect under the moon glow as he stroked himself hard and long.

eyes locked onto the camera, broken moans on his lips, you saw his hips lift one last time as thick spurts of cum began to paint his stomach and chest.

scars illuminated under the night sky, mirrored by shiny patches of hot cum splattered across the same stretch of skin. the hairs on his chest were matted with sweat and were now being splashed with how far he was shooting.

you could only watch with your mouth hung open as he tugged himself through his orgasm. soon it was only the sound of his laboured breathing, chest rising and falling as he tucked his soft cock back into his pants.

just when you thought that was it, you found one of his hands lifting up the edge of his balaclava till his lips were exposed. two fingers of his other hand swiped up some of his spend before he lay them on his tongue.

knuckles in your mouth, biting down to suppress a scream, simon readjusted his clothes as he stood and took a heavy step towards the camera.

one hand braced on the window sill, the other gently gripping himself through his trousers- his voice was so fucking gravely it could’ve reverberated round your room.

“what’s next sweet’art? you name it, it’s yours”

[cymk8]

miss ma'ams..........

[arinmoss]

Elliott!! :3

[juliewritess]

Found the writing voice for now. It's kinda similar to my current fanfic WIP but I want it to be a little different. But that's habit & something to edit later for consistency. The tone for the prologue has been set, too, though it's far from done. HOWEVER I intend on participating in Nanowrimo this year to get 50k of writing for this before the end of the year, which is super exciting, and it's also okay if I don't make it!

[crumb-crumblet-s-crumbington]

RE9 AU where the game is centered around the winters family with mia as the antagonist trying to bring back ethan and rosemary as the protagonist trying to stop her...

[beybuniki]

best friend with social anxiety

[bunnieswithknives]

As much as I love angst I think it would be funny if he just didnt give af

[ratcandy]

saw a version for a different fandom on my dash and suddenly got compelled .sorry .

[obsob]

once more around the sun!! :3

[demigods-posts]

luke fumbling in recruiting percy has to be one of his greatest failures. a beautiful thing the show does regarding luke and percy's relationship is building rapport between them through shared moments like settling into camp, eating meals together, but especially through swordfighting lessons. the swordfighting scene at the beginning of episode 8 not only reveals that percy and luke already share similar beliefs about the fear-based system the gods have cultivated, but it's clear the conversation stays with percy when he fights ares and later calls out zeus on his waning skills as a father and a king. however, luke's plan fell through the moment percy learned that the winged-shoes were meant to drag him to tartarus. not only that, but the shoes nearly killed grover, a friend percy cared for deeply. if nourishing loyalty and trust was the key to ensuring a partnership with percy, then it was luke's faulty planning, arrogance, and impatience that cost him the greatest ally he could ask for.