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Noah Centineo for ASOS Magazine

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Please Reblog This If It’s Okay To:

Send questions about yourself

Ask questions to/about your characters

Ask about your headcanons 

Send questions about your works (fanfics, art, music, RPs, etc) 

Ask about popular ships/headcanons

Ask about plot ideas you’ve had but haven’t acted upon yet (snippets of AUs, a scenario you wish to write/draw but haven’t gotten to yet)

Questions about other ships/headcanons that aren’t as popular or are rarepairs

Questions or comments about favorite tropes, headcanons, characters, foods, weather, or anything else you are okay in answering!

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Do Not Mistake Me For A Heterosexual

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1967 PONTIAC GTO CUSTOM HARDTOP

© barrett jackson

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when i move, you move

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My mom says we’re like the sun and the moon. Just because two forces are great doesn’t mean they belong together. The rhythm of the world is great because they are in their own orbit.

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hello, your local loser panda here !  i just wanted to say that i love my grease covered son & we want u to slide into our DM to plot/ship/ask for disco/give us love. 

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Jesus Adams Foster in 3.17.

Hey, you know I love having two moms, right? And we love having you! My Sweet!

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OC X CANON SHIPS ARE VALID AND GOOD LET US S A I L BITCH

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Noah Centineo for The Hollywood Reporter (2018)

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buriedhearted‌:

elle’s eyes narrow slightly at the smile johnny directs his way, although when he pats the spot next to him on the couch ellery is inclined to soften a bit. not enough to budge quite yet, he was determined to get answers and the other man hadn’t explicitly stated he would like elle to join him.  ( implied desire was a grey area that allowed ellery to explore the range of his self-determination ) he listens closely and tracks johnny’s movements as he adeptly manipulates several plastic and electronic objects. when the television flickers to life it draws elle’s attention. the screen is vaguely familiar, small picture squares floating in a sea of black. this was NETFLIX? he’s stepping back toward the couch, just a few steps and his legs are bumping the cushions, one knocking against johnny’s. he hums a playfully curious note and turns to look at the other over his shoulder. it was the expression hook up, that was a modern moniker he was quite familiar with. ❝ and what if the pictures are more interesting? ❞

a quick snort, now he’s a little indignant. johnny sighs (elle’s playing hard to get) & his hand travels from where it rests on the sofa up ellery’s leg, to squeeze his thigh. johnny has few doubts that anything playing on the television will be more interesting than the press of their lips, but he allows his face to play wounded. his other hand is placed over his heart, eyes wide in feigned hurt. well i never! in all the time they’ve known each other, not long, but long enough, johnny knows he will be the one to pump the breaks on the chill, but allows himself a moment to imagine elle choosing orange is the new black over sitting in his lap. johnny’s biting his lip again, contemplating his words carefully, painfully aware of how easily words are taken for command, “if i get boring,” his eyes sparkle, “you can always turn of the heat.” 

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♨

                                ♨ - rub my muse down with a sponge/wet cloth 

ellery’s balance was questionable as johnny shifted underneath him, his knees were anchored on either side of johnny’s lap on an worn bench seat that had once lived inside an old car, but now had taken up residence in the man’s shop. they were both breathless and panting, mouths AGAPE, lips shining. elle could feel what he really wanted straining through the rough blue of johnny’s grease-stained coveralls. elle tried multiple times to inch forward, to create that undeniable friction, but each attempt was met with gentle hands settling him back onto sturdy thighs. a frustrating, albeit fun little game, especially while watching the desire wash over the man with too much self ( selfish ? ) control. the denial wasn’t a slight, yet it was so very HARD for the half-incubus / half-witch not to put voice to the fire johnny set within him. to beg for what he wanted, plead for what he needed. for now though he bites the words back, bottom lip meeting teeth firmly pressed and held. johnny smiles as he catches his breath and elle can feel the way his gaze travels over his shirtless chest and down his stomach, lips twisting to the side slightly causing elle to look down as well. pale skin was marked, black-stained fingerprints like breadcrumbs were scattered over him, smudged and smeared where the caress of a touch had been. a smile of his own is offered as johnny leans over and comes back with a signature red shop rag, ( a nice and clean one ) that he lifts to his mouth and gives a quick lick before tucking it around his thumb and swiping away a particularly telling smudge just above elle’s hipbone. then another in that delicious space between his belly button and the waistband of the shorts he was wearing. of course he could appear clean in a blink, but he enjoys the feeling of being cared for. he lets johnny slowly and meticulously undo his debauchment before he’s wiping his own hands clean on the rag as well, or as near clean as he could without soap and running water. elle licks his lips and waits for brown eyes to find his again, offering a soft and earnest,   ❝thanks. ❞                               @panickxdmechanic | manhandling | ( x ) | accepting

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Noah Centineo by Doug Inglish for Flaunt Magazine