#feel less than perfect for a second

[lilgynt]

as a man thing i genuinely hate men and want them dead

[lloydfrontera]

i also like to think that as children javier and og lloyd got locked in a toxic cycle where javier felt like he had to. make up. for og lloyd's bad behavior. like a part of him recognized that his presence in the household was causing og lloyd to act up even worse than he already did normally and he tried to make up for the trouble he 'caused' by being as good of a kid as he could. and this in turn made og lloyd hate him even more because he saw it as an attempt to make him look like a worse son by comparison and that made him act up even more. and then the cycle repeats.

[3416]

haven't listened to the anthology yet, but i do think her music is suffering from the sheer quantity she's putting out while doing all this other stuff tbh. feels more like an overproduced electronic cashgrab than real layered music despite some tortured lyrics. like ttpd the first half has such a sameness to over half of it.... and that sameness is tied to midnights too imo. i really wish i could experience the joy of albums like 1989/folklore/evermore and def her country earlier stuff but. she can be a lyric writing machine (she needs someone to veto some of it thoughnfjdkfjd feels like no one can tell her no) but not lean on the exact same production style for this long bc it's kinda getting old to me and i really do enjoy so much of her discography like 😭😭😭 idk. i know swifties are just gonna eat up whatever she does, and i've always been in between the absolute worshipping crowd and the absolute hater crowd but some of the music/production part is so uninspired.

[mokutone]

your art makes me wanna start testosterone

i can't read tone well, so this is either an incredibly touching ask, or an extremely funny one, and in the absence of confirmation: both!

i'm in a chatty mood, so i'll share some thoughts about testosterone and my art.

i liked being on testosterone a lot. i had an IM injection every two weeks (on tuesdays!) and because that's a sizeable dose every 14 days that slowly disperses, it can cause some mood fluctuations (every other friday i would have a crisis about not feeling like the world had a place for me in it) but even those were far more manageable than the ones that would come with my previous and current monthly hormone cycle (every month i spend a solid week thinking the world will never have a place for me in it)

It gave me a patchy little bit of scruff on my chin and a whispy mustache under my nose that still struggles on, despite adversity!

It redistributed my fat a little bit, but that's long since gone back to pre-T shape.

it lowered my voice! that hasn't changed :^)! even if i never go back on t, that won't change. it was the thing i most wanted, and its the one i'm most grateful for. Pre-T, I didn't speak much. I'm getting better and better at talking and getting more and more comfortable communicating with people because of it.

having been off t now for 3 years, i don't pass anymore—not as a cis man, or a cis woman, certainly not as anything approximating straight. if people look at me and see anything, i'd hazard a guess that they see me as A Queer (the noun—for all it's complicated connotations).

i'm not surprised that my art might make somebody want to start testosterone! a lot of my art was made out of the aching grief that came with being kicked off of testosterone, and how neatly that loss of autonomy over my own body knits in with yamato's loss of autonomy over his own.

how my body started doing things i disliked, how i didn't have the support necessary to access the healthcare i needed—how my inability to give myself what i needed made me feel as though i were trapped inside of myself and abandoned (by both myself and the world at large)

when i write comics about yamato as a trans man, i don't take away his testosterone, because that hits a little too close to home for me. for Ninja War Town Reasons, he has plenty of access to all the HRT he could ever need and nobody questions his need for it—instead, i project my own horrors onto the way Danzō defined his identity for him as a child, the way that Kabuto and Obito dehumanize him as an adult in their war efforts, and reduce him to the thing his body holds (the Mokuton). I give him a kneejerk compulsion to dehumanize himself (out of a feeling that he has a duty to his community to do so) and I give him a slow-growing resistance to that impulse (which comes out of a feeling that the people he loves would frown upon seeing him reduce himself like that)

it's dysphoria! it's not gender dysphoria, but it's a loss of self, and a need to reclaim it. it's a war between the hollow shell of a thing he thinks he has to be, and the vibrant and messy person beneath it that he is. it's a desperate need to say "this is who i am—only i can say it"

I enjoyed HRT a lot. it was a really useful tool in helping me feel like my body was my own, that i didn't have to fight it, that we were the same entity. It's not the only tool, but it was a really good one, and one day I hope to use it again.

(as for the being off of it—it's unpleasant, but i'm enduring! being somebody who now doesn't really pass as anything has put me in a weird and interesting position, where I'm constantly having to declare myself to people, because nobody knows what to make of me on any front. they don't know if i'm a man, a woman, nonbinary, nor even what age i am (Augh!!!!) it forces me to be brave and vulnerable more than I'm comfortable with—if I tell somebody I'm a man, there's no way that they will believe I'm cis, but I'm not about to recloset myself—and I don't think I could at this point anyway.)

(there's something fascinating about the position i find myself in, and while i'd leap back on t the moment that an opportunity presented itself to do so, i do feel like i'm experiencing something interesting and important in this weird zone i find myself in)

[steakout-05]

something that had always been really frustrating for me when i was still in math classes in school was trying to watch the teacher actually work the problem out on the board and still not understanding wtf was happening. for some context, i heavily suspect that i have some form of dyscalculia because math and numbers literally do not compute properly in my brain. it'd be too long to explain the full extent of my possible dyscalculia here but math literally does the mental equivalent of maxing out the CPU power and memory of a computer to the point where it freezes and lags to my brain.

math class was always stressful for me because no matter what i did and how much progress i made, there was always a lack of understanding i had when it came to trying to work any math problem out long term and remembering anything. it felt like there was always something i was missing, so when the time came for the teacher to explain and go through a math problem step-by-step on the whiteboard, i made sure i paid as much attention to it as humanly possible as child-to-teenager me could muster and even then i still did not understand how the fuck they solved it, all because of one thing: the teacher pulling a random number completely out of their ass that happened to be the key to solving the problem.

like. i don't think i can illustrate how frustrating and isolating this was to experience with words alone. here i was, paying as much attention as i physically could, trying my damned hardest to memorise each individual step and calculation in order to understand how to get from point A to point B. everything made perfect sense up until the teacher suddenly stops for a second and writes a seemingly completely unrelated number there with no context as to why it's there in the first place, and then, in that singular moment, everything immediately comes crumbling down and i'm left completely confused. and somehow, everyone else around me perfectly understands it except me. like. imagine sitting there, giving the teacher all the attention you possibly could, literally watching and studying their hand movements just to understand every single step, only to be even more confused than your classmates, who you're pretty sure were half-asleep during the explanation, who also say they understand how the teacher came to that conclusion. what. the actual fuck.

when i try to explain how infinitely confusing and irritating this was for me, i'm reminded of a quote from that video Patricia Taxxon made about DHMIS: "The rug is pulled again ... There was never any hope of following the thread, understanding is impossible.". even when i was literally trying my best to possibly follow anything that was happening, the rug still gets pulled out from under my feet and i'm sent all the way back to square one of not understanding a single thing and being confused again. all because the teacher didn't explicitly explain how they got that random number that was apparently singlehandedly necessary for solving the equation and where they got it from, apart from that place being from literally fucking nowhere.

it's really no wonder that i eventually stopped giving a shit about paying attention in math class, because even when i was, it was still daunting and incomprehensible as always. why bother trying anymore when trying still gets you nowhere? trying to ask the teacher where they got that number from was an impossible to understand task as well, as their either snapped back with a "well you should have been paying attention" (even though i WAS but whatever) or they do explain that they added the first two numbers from the equation together or something, but now i'm wondering why they didn't just explain that in the first place like they did with everything else instead of seemingly just assuming everyone would know to do that.

by the way, if i had to give an estimate, my math ability is probably still at like. a 5th grader's level at best. so uh. yeah it's not good. still, it is kinda funny to me though, not only because i do find a bit of humour in the situation, but also because some people are often so quick to judge someone's intelligence purely based on their mathematical abilities alone. like. the idea of someone calling me dumb for still needing to do addition with my fingers despite the fact that my reading and language levels are considered above average is really funny to me lmaooo

[edge-oftheworld]

thinking about the way when i interact with fellow aussies on here I see so much disappointment about how they didn't come here on their last tour. how sydney 5sos fans are a different brand of human i'm not really sure how to describe (we all freaked out when we went to the same concert lauren was at for example). thinking about how the australian leg of take my hand tour felt like it was almost its own thing, sandwiched between the gap after the bulk of the tour before it and that short gap before they announced the most recent tour after it--almost as if it was meant to bridge both of those tours. how they played in newcastle and on the gold coast and it wasn't quite cairns or coffs but it was a bit more than your state capitals headline tour. how, with the exception of the big four, we often don't realise how small our cities are on a global scale. there are only 27 million of us on this desert island.

thinking about how they wrote easy for you to say and had to perform it on tour six months before its actual release, it was so important to this setlist, to the vibe, and how it's about nostalgia and missing sydney and they finished the tour in sydney and it makes me wonder, i can kind of guess when the song means the same thing to me, how much it hurts to be able to perform here and yet not be able to stay for longer than a holiday. and yet they do do that for us, put on shows about as regularly as any other artist does. even if they didn't play splendour in the grass. or falls festival. even if it's been four years since fire fight australia, it was only months ago sierra was promoting beyond blue as a charity to donate to. friends of friends did some fundraiser for a youth centre in blacktown: maybe I have to look to see it, but I can see the impact they've left.

and then I see how happy they all seem to look when they've gotten a chance to hang out in australia. ashton covering songs in the heat. calum obviously having a blast. luke dropping sydney pics that were assumedly from before it got really hot, looking carefree, a familiar skyline and familiar urban graffiti. the way when michael arrived in perth for the first time after lockdown he simply had to tell us all right away. and i've always kind of seen them coming back here for good? heck, joel madden even assumed right on his podcast some of them might have already. the way ashton doesn't have a dog in the states, and how i've always seen him with an aussie. the way luke integrates seamlessly into the life and culture of the inner west area; and calum carries blue mountains vibes with him wherever he goes, as michael does with the sydney pop punk scene. we know brandy and sierra at least love australia--i was actually fangirling about sierra in their comments with the veronicas just the other day (bless them for deciding my comment was something that needed to replying to). while crystal does have a massive group of usamerican friends and family I can see her enjoying the vegan places in melbourne and brisbane (they're coming to sydney too. the inner west and parts of the north side are almost there) and maybe being a little more hopeful about politics. I can also see it being a really healthy place to raise lua.

maybe it's the hopefulness of an urban designer who sees the impact of art and culture and having people around who create for a living on our cities, but maybe I see myself in 20 years bringing my kids to see them play and being able to tell the story of a series of songs (red desert, efyts, whatever is next in the theme in the works for 5sos6 as well as the solo stuff like a lot of wfttwtaf and boy) and how they figured out what we all have to, how to find and create a place that's home to you--because it's actually a pretty likely event. and i love seeing the evolution from the 'let's get out' / 'worked every weekend just to get out of town' vibe of self titled and sgfg to now. I really do want them all to feel like they can relax now after so many years of working and depriving themselves of the love that comes from belonging (I do feel like we've heard more about it from luke and ash specifically) and I also get the subtle vibes of where that might happen. and how much it might hurt when they don't get to have that. what did they do for aussies? gave us hope that we could make it, in whatever we want to do and whatever success means for us. maybe it's just me though. for now. maybe i've got the expectations of someone who grew up unable to afford things like concerts mixed with the anticipation for this june. I hope i'm not projecting, but also, the empathy I feel when I see myself in someone is usually spot on.

so idk. one day i'm gonna design some really classy public housing made to unfuck the status quo and i'm gonna raise money to build it and sierra will write a song and say she's doing a donation to this charity in australia doing things about homelessness and the class divide and it's gonna help me fund it. that's just one option of something i can see going down that's not completely unrealistic if very very optimistic but it's how i live my life. but i'll go to a 5sos concert eventually. i'll play their songs i've arranged with an orchestra one day too and we'll do it impressively, noticeably. i don't really know what else i'm supposed to expect? I know my experience is worlds away from many people's. but these guys inspire me to create and I don't really need anything else to do that.

[lilidawnonthemoon]

[dontwanderoff]

i thought i was fine with the flopping of that interview but i feel so NOT fine about it now :/ fucking lame having to try and teacher talk myself like an adult about these stupid fucking emotions instead of being a bitch tho

[wanders-in-stars]

"Hey, Tamar," Gore began, "are you familiar with this thing called a chair? Y'know, what most people sit on, instead of tables." She didn't answer the merc; only gave him a wide, wolfish grin. Even in human form, her incisors seemed a little too long, a little too sharp. It should have been disturbing. Yet somehow, it wasn't.

[businesstiramisu]

Been watching Suits, it’s Very Good

I mostly knew it as “the show that made Meghan Markle famous”, and to be fair, she is great in it

But no one told me about Gina Torres as the managing partner of the law firm, and she absolutely owns that role.

(you might know her as Zoë Washburn in Firefly -- and tbf I’m more into Zoë as a character, but Gina Torres plays an *incredible* Jessica Pearson! Looks amazing, dominates every room she’s in, decisive and respectable leader, somehow I still buy that she has a strong moral code act despite “laywers being dicks to each other” being the entire point of the show, and she’s just as much in the muck as any of them)

And apparently in the later seasons my fave Dulé Hill joins the regular cast!! So yeah lots to love about this show, and I haven’t even talked about the actual story or main characters yet.

[harmcityherald]

Sin City Theme Song

[mochapanda]

actually #1 gaming development philosophy if your whole mechanic can be cheesed by giving more or less of a consumable its a bad mechanic

[snekdood]

so much of my past art is such a love letter to humanity and yet they keep betraying me and wonder why I hate them so much now

[teddybeartoji]

18: mdni; fem!reader

toji fucking you with his fat tip.... 

laid there under him, you can do nothing more than to just let him toy with you – one of his hands is resting on your hip, rubbing circles into your skin with his thumb while the other on his rock hard cock, pumping it at a leisurely pace. he spreads the precum that leaks from his tip and rubs it all over himself and the simple act has you squirming. his scarred lips are pulled into a smirk and his cheeks are adorned with a deep flush, his green eyes now darker than ever as he tries to burn the scene that’s unfolding in front of him into his memory. 

biting down onto your own finger, you try to be patient but it’s so, so hard when he’s looking at you like that. with that hungry look in his eyes. a bead of sweat trickles down the side of his head but he doesn’t bother to wipe it. there are teeth marks all over his neck, hickeys and lipstick stains all blending together into a beautiful masterpiece for him to admire tomorrow morning. 

“c’mon… ”

he meets your pleading gaze and the corners of his lips pull even further back. he tuts under his breath while sliding his cock between your folds, coating it in your slick and mixing it with his precum. “no manners whatsoever… ”

“please.” 

the speed of your answer makes his chest swell with pride. you wriggle your hips in hopes of convincing him to finally put it in, but all he does is give your thigh a squeeze. 

he doesn’t give you what you want, no matter how sweet you sound.

every little sound that tumbles from your wobbling lip goes straight to his cock and toji realizes that this just might be the hardest he’s ever been. his balls are so fucking full and he can’t wait to fill you up like you deserve, but the sight of you being all disheveled and flustered is way too good for him to just fuck you. he needs to push you a little, he needs to play with you a little. 

pressing your hip back into the mattress, toji leans over your body to place a haste kiss to the corner of your lips and chuckles when you chase after him. cute.

with his hand wrapped around his cock, he lines himself up with the entrance of your sopping cunt and takes a mental picture of your face the second he pushes in an inch. the way your back arches off the bed, the way you crane your head back to give him the perfect view of your neck. clutching onto the sheets below you with one hand, you try to even out your breathing. very fucking cute. 

but he presses in only enough to watch your tight little hole to swallow the tip of his cock. 

no more, no less. 

he groans at the way your cunt around him, all desperate and needy, begging for him to push in further. 

“pl– please… ” he feels your fingers wrapping around his wrist, your nails digging into his skin at the immense pleasure running through your body. “more, toji, more.” 

with a smile, he pulls out. 

your eyes shoot open and you raise your head from the pillow, confusion painted all over your pretty face. toji just laughs, his voice raspier than usual.

“you’re so impatient, hm?”

at his teasing tone, you throw your head back again and puff out your chest with a small pout on your lips. “and you’re so fucking mean.”

toji loves it when you bite back. 

so, he grants you another kiss – this time to the joint of your exposed neck, right to your pulse point. his dick ghosts over your clit when he lowers himself down onto you and you let out a hushed little gasp. you tug at the dark hairs at his nape and lean up into him the second you feel his lips against your skin. 

but continuing on with his ‘mean’ streak, he doesn’t stay there for as long as you’d hoped. whining when he pulls back away, you try to keep him there with you with your arms still hooked around his neck. but you’re too weak, already too fucked out from his mind games and it takes almost no effort for him to escape your grasp. the quiet laugh he lets out makes you want to sulk even more, it makes you want to hide under the covers – there’s a witty remark somewhere on your tongue, still finding its way when toji grabs onto your limp hand and brings it to his mouth, only to teasingly bite at your fingers. 

his hips jerk forward as if they have a mind of their own and his dick twitches almost painfully when he sees you jut out your lip; with your eyebrows scrunched and your eyes low, toji compares you to an angry little kitten. he has to fight the urge to bury you below him again, the desire to kiss you all over so strong that he almost forgets his aching cock and his full balls. 

almost. 

“aw… well, aren’t ya just adorable… ” 

his words come out like a coo and you try to yank your hand out of his grasp but to no avail – he keeps you there, big fingers wrapped tightly around your wrist as he stares at you. it’s hard not to feel shy under his gaze, despite all of the years you’ve spent together, and now he’s not letting you hide away either – completely bare and awaiting, toji can’t help but admire all of you. from your eyes to your neck, from your tits to your now precum coated tummy, he loves everything he’s seeing. he can’t get enough of you— 

of his darling, of his best girl. 

with just one move, toji pushes past your folds again and sinks his leaking tip into the warmth of your cunt once more. you moan in harmony, your voices mingling together as you melt into each other. toji lets your wrist slip from his grasp but he doesn’t let you go entirely – he intertwines your fingers and then rests your linked hands against your middle, smoothly giving himself a bit more leverage to play with you as he wishes while still holding onto you, while still being sweet to you. 

he sucks in a sharp breath when he pulls out and sees your hole clenching around nothing – she weeps for him, she cries for him, pleading for more and more and more. and toji can’t refuse her, he can’t refuse you, so just as before, he pushes in his fat tip and nothing more. 

it’s not enough, but the sensation is something akin to tickling and you can’t ignore the way it’s making you feel. your back arches off the bed again, only for toji to push you back down onto the mattress and there’s this weird pressure growing in your lower tummy even though he’s not even fully in. it feels good and you hate to admit it. you do want more – you want nothing more than for him to just fill you up, to feel his heavy balls against your ass but your thoughts and wishes get all tangled up in your head as he keeps doing it over and over again.

in and out, in and out – toji’s addicted to the way you feel around him. his tip is so fucking sensitive and your tight and warm walls are far from helping him keep his sanity. he listens to you mewl and cry out his name, but he has no intention of stopping this. 

“fuck– ” 

every time he moves, the slick sound coming from where you’re connected reaches your ears and you feel your body burn. it’s filthy, it’s fucking obscene – it’s ridiculous how wet you are from this. you dig your nails into toji’s hand and he raises his gaze from your pussy to look at your face instead. a layer of sheen coats your skin and toji’s tongue darts out to lick over his lips on instinct; 

“does it feel good, baby, hm?” he looks like an animal, feral and hungry, with the way he’s staring at you. grinning widely when you give him a faint nod, he spits down onto your cunt and starts rubbing circles on your clit with his thumb. your eyes roll back into your head and your lips part in a silent moan as the sudden wave of pleasure rips through you. 

it hits you embarrassingly fast and incredibly strong, and toji has to use both of his hands to hold you steady as you squirm under him. his eyes grow wide at the sight of you writhing, amazed that he managed to pull such a reaction with so ‘little’ effort but it’s not like he’s doing any better – as your orgasm takes over your body, you clench around him so hard that toji can’t help but push in another inch. his hips stutter and his teeth sink down into his lips almost hard enough to draw blood. but he doesn’t stop. 

he can’t stop.

so, with the added inch, he fucks you through your high. his thrusts get more desperate, his breathing grows even quicker and he’s left panting like a dog above you. never having let go of your hand, he now presses it into the mattress right next to your head while the other grabs onto your waist – his hold on you is bruising and it feels way too fucking good. 

“wait, toji– i, can’t… ”

suddenly, you feel overwhelmed; with tears brimming at your lash line, you feel the weird band in your stomach tighten and tighten. your words get stuck in your throat as toji sinks further into you, his fat cock bullying its way into your sensitive cunt like it’s made for it. “no– it’s too much!”

toji lets out a breathy chuckle. 

“‘too much’?” he teases while pushing in even deeper. “thought ya wanted more, doll?”

the slick sounds coming from in between you are something out of a porno, filthy and messy, and toji’s obsessed. his own hands shake as he holds himself above you and when he finally feels his thighs ghosting against yours, his lips pull into a wicked grin. 

with one last thrust, toji bottoms out fully and his balls press against your ass just as you dreamed before. you’re sure you can feel him in your fucking lungs and it’s so fucking much. tojo gives your hand a squeeze and rolls his hips into yours before pulling back out and slamming them back down. 

the whole bed shakes under you; the headboard smashes against the wall in the same rhythm as toji pounds into you but you’re already too blissed out to be worrying about the complaints you’ll surely receive in the morning. and it’s not even that he’s fucking you fast – he’s fucking you hard. there’s so much want behind his every move that you’re unable to think about anything else other than him. 

him, him, him—

“look at me.”

your teary eyes meet his dark green ones and your second orgasm comes crashing down on you harder than the last. just like before, it hits you so suddenly that you don’t even have the time to warn him. but toji knew – he knows your body better than you do and he knows exactly what buttons to push and what words to use to have you unraveling under him.

feeling you gush around him a second time is more than enough for toji to finally let himself follow you into that state of pure ecstasy; he drops closer to you and buries his face into the crook of your neck with a loud groan as he paints your insides white.

pumping you full, just like you deserve, his fat balls twitch as toji gives you his all. the remaining energy drains from his tired body as the seconds pass and he doesn’t even try to keep himself up any longer; slumping against you, toji rests almost all of his weight on top of you with a lazy grin on his face. your sweaty bodies stick together, chests rubbing together as you both try to catch your breaths.

craning your neck a little, you press a kiss to toji’s head and mirror his lazy smile when you feel him snaking his arms around your middle. you don't even try to move, knowing that you'll be stuck there under him for a while. not that you'd even want to leave...

why would you when you can listen to your beloved snore right there on top of you like a big bear after fucking your brains out? with your hand in his damp hair, it's easy for him to let his eyes fall shut, his heartbeat calming down as he melts into you.

cute.

[raven-cincaide]

Boyfriend! Megumi writes up every important date in his calendar, on his phone and on every other frequently-looked-at surface he can think of. He rates these days out of exclamation marks, where 3 (!!!) marks means they are days unforgivable to forget. Your birthday has six exclamation marks, and your anniversary has only four. 

Boyfriend! Megumi checks every class schedule, exam date and mission known to man the second it's published with his heart in his throat, just waiting to see which of those tedious ‘musts’  collide with the most important dates. He breathes a small sigh of relief every time when he is off on both your birthday and anniversary dates. 

Boyfriend! Megumi still feels bad whenever he is not around to celebrate the less important stuff. Like your perfect score on the exam or success in landing your part-time job. You reassure him that it’s okay and you’ll have your own mini-celebration when he returns from his mission. But still, seeing you celebrate these achievements with your parents and friends through posts on social media makes him feel inadequate. And he doesn’t know how to bring it up. 

Boyfriend! Megumi comes home later than usual after a mission, reeking of alcohol and eyes rimmed red. Then, he awkwardly shuffles in the dark living room, pacing, knocking things over and then returning to the pacing until he unwillingly wakes you up. He ignores you when you call out his name, so lost in his thoughts that you become worried for his well-being.

Boyfriend! Megumi snaps out of his daze as you touch him. His face is more expressive than usual, full of guilt and pain. The first thing past his lips is how he doesn’t deserve you, how he can’t be a good boyfriend, how you should be with someone who will always be there. 

Boyfriend! Megumi crumbles in your arms when you reassure him that he is more than enough. It doesn’t matter if he isn’t there for some important days; it’s natural. You’re both adults with your own schedules, and it’s bound to happen. But the important thing is that you make up for those lost days with every other moment you get together. 

Boyfriend! Megumi denies ever crying, being upset or mushy over anything, even as his bright red ears give him away. You tease him further and the sharp shut up has no heat behind it. Especially not when he feeds you breakfast in bed.

Boyfriend! Megumi still feels guilty for missing your important date, but he’s determined to make up for it. Princess treatment and corny date to your favourite animal cafe. You’re putting up with his shit, after all, so he’ll go just slightly overboard to make sure you know you’re his precious girl. 

[lovelyghst]

soft-tummy simon riley save me… cause you cannot look at that man and tell me he doesn’t love to eat!! like, a constant snacker. and his heart absolutely swells when you indulge so heavily in his needs.

it’s practically his love language, to scarf down anything you put on the table in front of him, and you can certainly tell since now he’s not nearly in the same shape as he was when you found him.

he likes to think you’ve fixed him in a way; spending his evenings cuddling in bed for hours on end with you, rather than heading to the gym for the second time that day to burn off dinner. thanking you for the savory meal with kisses all over instead of fighting off the impulse to purge his usual bland chicken breast and vegetables every night.

and it all hits him far, far deeper than just his gut; feeling it in his heart more than the soft layer of fat blanketing his tummy he has to see in the mirror every morning. just the fact that a sweet thing like you wants to take care of him, ensure he eats plentiful yet still healthy for his work, has him whipped. showering him with endless i love you’s and praising him all up and down until his cheeks tint a light, flustered pink and his dick gets achingly hard in his pants.

he won’t pretend the change was easy on him, seeing the clean-cut abs and fit appearance that made him feel young fade away the further you got into your relationship, but he’d also be a filthy liar if he said he didn’t prefer the pros to his current build way more.

simon begins wearing shirts less around the house on his lazy days, at your lovely request of course, and it does feel quite freeing. especially when he’s able to come up behind you in the kitchen, cage you in with his burly arms, bend you over the counter and fuck you senseless because part of the deal was that his shirts would go to you, and with nothing but your lace panties on underneath.

he can’t help but get riled up seeing you walk around like that, and you’re no saint either when you catch a glimpse of his broad chest and relaxed, pillowy belly as he reads the morning newspaper. you tend to drop to your knees and tug at his boxers faster than he can even greet you properly, showing him just how much you love him.

he loves eating you out more than anything, especially with a full tummy after a late meal. you’ll take his and your empty plates to the kitchen to clean up, but you’re being bent over the counter before you can even wipe it down!! and squealing his name in surprise won’t stop him, nor will your giggles as he’s lifting the skirt of your dress to reveal your pretty ass, getting down on his knees and delving right in.

dragging his tongue through your drenched seam, grinning softly against your skin when you jolt and whine out of sensitivity. tongue-fucking your pretty, tight hole only for a moment before he’s returning to messily play with your swollen clit.

and you just know it’s entirely selfish, simon not even paying mind to the way your legs shake and relentlessly convulse and you can barely stay still because his stubble is unceasingly tickling your inner thighs. making you cum until you can’t anymore, and he’s happily forced to carry your numbed, twitchy body to bed so you can catch your breath and rest while he finishes up the chores.

would probably send you off by say something cliché about you being his favorite dessert. he’s so stupid when he’s horny.

simon is weak for when you ride his stomach, with both his hands planted firmly on your hips as you rub your bare pussy back and forth on his hard abdomen. his hidden muscles become more apparent the longer you go at it and the harder he holds you down, little whimpers spilling from your puffy lips as the light hairs coating his tummy create just the perfect amount of friction to your poor, little clit for that hot, familiar sensation in your lower belly to bubble up.

your hands clawing at his chest and shoulders, leaving lines and crescent indents in his skin that soon turn red in their wake, and the pain only turns him on more, his cock excruciatingly hard, long hums of pleasure omitting straight from his throat as he grits his teeth.

“yeah, that’s it, sweetheart—there’s my dirty girl. jus’ keep goin’ for me now, don’t stop… make yourself cum without me touchin’ you down there, ‘nd then i’ll fuck you real nicely after. alright, princess?”

and you soon follow through with just that, nodding decorously with tears welling at your eyes’ waterlines before you’re lurching forward, crying out his name. thighs giving out and fighting to ride out your orgasm, where simon then saves you with his attentive grip on your hips, finishing the job for you rather recklessly.

“good fuckin’ girl… y’did so well for me, love,” and every other gruff, dragged word of praise in his vocabulary echos in your fuzzy mind as you come down from your high.

you’re still catching your breath, fulling laying on his chest by the time he’s inching you backwards whilst taking his hard dick out from his boxers. lifting your weak hips for you as he whispers small, reassuring hushes right by your ear, soothing your winces as he fully sheathes you on his thick cock, inch by fucking inch.

he fucks himself up into you, not daring to make you overwork your body anymore, and he handles you so delicately you could almost fall asleep on his mattress of a body. you crumble to pieces with the vibrations of his chest from his unending groaning, the feeling of his veiny and rough cock stretching and filling you to the brim almost becoming minute compared to the sleepiness washing over you.

“there ya go, pretty… don’t have’ta do any work now, jus’ like i promised, eh?” he coos, and he could feel you smiling against his collarbone. one of his large hands cradles the back of your head while the other gropes at your ass lovingly. “takin’ me just fine, sweet girl.”

you bury your heated face into his squishy pectoral, whining at the overstimulation to your clit at the particular angle, left so utterly sensitive from your prior orgasm. you’re limp in his strong hold, securer than ever as he lifts your hips up and down his thick cock.

he uses your tender cunt ‘til he’s satisfied, groaning right up against your ticklish ear when he empties his hot cum in your throbbing pussy, the perfect thing milking him dry and turning you exhausted.

he actually sits in the moment for a peaceful while, coddling you against his rising and falling chest and murmuring sweet praises, until eventually his disciplined brain kicks in despite your protests.

“don’t go passin’ out on me yet, sweetheart.” you grumble out a refusing noise which makes him laugh softly, but apparently it’s not enough to win him over. “let’s go get you cleaned up, yeah?”

(simon and his size difference & free use kinks go CRAZY in this one. also this instagram reel is so him coded ok bye bye <3 cont.)