#i will give a kidney

[l0ganberry]

I NEEED HIMMMM!!!!

[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”

[onyxstic]

Arts and Crafts with adopted daughter

The result:

[reegis]

I would mail you my left kidney in a jar for more art of Loki with a tail and silly little ears and little peets

tfw you Accidentally find your previously dead wife while you’re in the middle of robbing a train

[little-amb]

Order Domain

My spouse's dnd character, Freydis (human-drow cleric of Freyr). Although they primarily wield magic, her weapon is a spear enchanted with necromancy, taken from a fallen member of a devious cult.

[thebibliosphere]

Every time someone adds something akin to "or you could just do things normally" onto any of my disability life hack posts, I should be allowed to harvest their organs.

I don't need them. I just don't want them to have them anymore, either.

[joicecubes]

i love the idea of ford and stan healing when they’re on the sea together. i need it. SO BAD. i keep thinking about how one of the last entries ford wrote in his journal was talking about how he wants to repair their relationship and finally make it up to him. if stan gives him a chance.

and stan… oh my god he’s desperate for that!! are you kidding me!! i know to ford it must feel like stan has always held a grudge against him since he came back, and because he feels so unworthy now that he’s come to terms with how he failed the people he loves, it skews his perception of what stan really wants. what he doesn’t realize in doubting whether or not stan also wants to repair their relationship is that stan has yearned for this for his ENTIRE. LIFE. he’s wanted to go back to being what they were to each other as kids from the moment he was kicked out to the moment he remembered who ford was after weirdmageddon. of COURSE he says yes to sailing the world with him. of COURSE he’ll wait as long as it takes to have his brother back, he worked thirty years for this!!

and now it’s just a matter of being there for each other. because neither of them were able to be there in each other’s worst moments. as stan regains memories ford can’t help him reach, he starts realizing just how damaged he became in the time he was homeless. and i’m sure ford’s trauma from bill shows up in ways neither of them expect either! and it must be so healing for them to be each other’s support in the aftermath of their suffering. it must feel like regaining a limb, to have your twin brother back, your best friend. ugh it just kills me.

by the way if ya’ll are looking for fics with this premise of the two of them healing… i highly recommend any gravity falls fics by ao3 user parsnipit. perfect ratio of hurt to comfort. and they’re all about stan and ford. i think about these fics every day no joke someone save me

[andy-clutterbuck]

The Ones Who Live | 1x01 - Years

[suntails]

⚔️♠️

[vciousevrvale]

that one scene in vengeful where eli and victor are fighting against marcella and the narration goes “to think that, in a way, the two of them were working together again. like old times—or like they could have been, perhaps. it was almost poetic” lives in my head rent free.

[authenticcadence18]

Candace’s dairy allergy is brought up a few times in the show but we also see her eating a grilled cheese and moon ice cream so I’m guessing it’s mild or she grew out of it?

But a Candace with a severe dairy allergy would be so fascinating, and so telling as to why she is the way she is. Severe allergies are physically, mentally, and socially draining. Candace already feels lesser than. I can imagine her struggling to fit in at restaurants and getting so anxious over what she can and can’t eat, watching her family and peers eating things she can’t have, trying so hard to just accept and be positive but being jaded and jealous regardless.

like. it fits her character so well. where is my Candace is allergic to dairy which makes her feel isolated and exacerbates her pre-existing anxiety and low self image storyline.

[chiamew]

wheeee silly

[cartsandhorses]

post-fall hannigram where hannibal very much enjoys will alive but, “to love someone is to consume them and be consumed by them” in the literal sense and hannibal isn’t fond of the idea of eating will since he’s by his side. but, you know, a helpless shrug. so he settles for a kidney or smth. bonus points if it’s consensual

[waffietato]

HOLY SHIT BIG WIN FOR THE GAYS??

[prajjna]

[fromtheseventhhell]

The "Can I be a king's councillor and build castles" to "Lady of Winterfell and helping to rebuild the North after the Long Night" pipeline is real