I’m still chuckling to myself over the fact that Buck handed the guy the air freshener from his car - while discussing his playboy past with Eddie and how he’s not a player any more - the car being completely torched and unsalvageable being a metaphor for bucks dating history - but he still comes up smelling of ‘roses’ and the whole idea that new grown can be found in the aftermath of a forest fire etc - all while Eddie sees buck - to the core!!
how are u going to reblog from me and call bottoms just OK or whatever. find the fun in hot weird lesbians beating the shit out of each other and saving a football player from pineapple juice and killing other guys and having an entire complicated avril lavigne montage and ruby cruz’s sad sad little beat up face and but i’m a diner and havana rose lius ugly cry laugh and a milf who also saves the day and bombing a car to total eclipse of the heart in cunty heist clothes and doing violence for someone as a love language enjoy the weird fucked up dykes or get OUT!!!!!!! it’s not FOR YOU!!!!!!!!!!!
Ngl the moment I realized that I like Starscream for the same reasons why I disliked Airachnid was the moment I cast him into the trash bin like Andy to Woody in Toy Story 2
Then again I also like him because he’s like a pathetic sopping wet weasel given a winged robot form while Airachnid is absolutely not that 💀
I've come around on Callowmoore and in doing so realized my main problem with them originally was part of the fandoms insistence on chalking them up to being "a sexy provocative woman being sexy next to a sexy gruff man". Where as I can only enjoy them through the lens of their autistic arospec t4t weirdness.
Ok ok ok but…what if…and I know with the canon events it wouldn’t work, but what if, when Enmu has fused with the train, and his physical body discarded…
He can still feel you inside it. So to tease him, you pull and shift aside the fabric of your clothes, stand with one foot on the floor and your other leg knelt on the seat, and you ride the arm rest of the seat. Trembling as your body heat slowly warms the cool wood, calling out to him and feeling the floor and walls around you rumble, you can almost hear his moan.
Your wetness seeps through the single layer separating your cunt from the arm rest, soon soaking the wood. Tainting it, though you know he appreciates it. Grinding down harder and watching as the cracks in the floor boards bubble with warm red flesh that crawls its way up your leg, teasing your inner thigh, before slipping into the fabric sticking to your lips and prodding your hole before pushing in while you shiver and your hips falter.
The softness of the flesh makes the squish between your body and the wood able to take your weight as you keep moving. Taking the fabric of your clothes between your teeth and moving your newly freed hand to toy with your clit. A second tendril of flesh softly takes the fabric from your mouth, allowing your whines and cries to ring out in the train car. The tip of it swiping along your lips before entering your mouth and playing with your tongue in an almost kiss, closing your lips around it and sucking.
The flesh inside you begins to thrust harshly and you have to grab the arm rest to steady yourself as you hips buck as you moan and pant through an intense orgasm, thrusts slowing before stopping, slipping out of you softly, petting your thigh. The one near your mouth stroking your cheek as you sit on the floor with shaking legs.
As you try to recover, even out your breathing, you feel flesh gather beneath you, spreading your legs and pressing up against you, rolling itself along your lips to stimulate you. You can’t help but move your hips, seeking that feeling again,
ppl in the house and I’m too intimidated to walk to my room so I’m throwing Jeremiah excerpts like bread ends to ducks:
It’s October in 2005 which means it’s cold in Maryland and still warm in Las Vegas. Jeremiah’s been watching the weather channel more frequently lately as a form of pure entertainment which seems like a strange thing to do, probably because it is but also more likely because the weatherman’s got a Colgate smile and hair like Keanu Reeves’ in My Own Private Idaho. He’s named after a flower or something of the like—Prim, Basil, Aster, Sage. Really, Jeremiah should know because he’s invested enough to know the man has a subtle lisp and a birthmark above his right eyebrow, but maybe the problem is that he’s paying too much attention to the man’s subtle lisp and birthmark. Still, he finds himself thinking of the man when he sits on the balcony with a mug of Ovaltine, the weather channel muffled through the closed door. When did he decide to become a weatherman? And is the job rewarding?
Sometimes the reality that he’s dreaming about a weatherman who doesn’t know he exists hits him so hard he goes back inside and turns the TV off right away
Hey… do you guys remember that funny little post I made like a day or two ago about the crazy photos Lou Lou posted to her Twitter ages ago about Danhausen?
Well, I grace you guys with this video that was also on her Twitter (circa 2018)