#fuck idk what else to add to this post

[starwaffle345]

Silly thingy but imagine:

Your Duo meeting Puppet Dance! Duo (AKA My AU take on the duo!)

short answer because iiiii prefer to build off of ideas in reply or reblog chains but uhh

perplexed by creatures /silly

my edda would vibe with puppet dance!edda i think

they get to be silly together <3 (make noises and playfight)

[art-from-the-juice-box]

gen loss dump part 2 :]

i have a gen loss playlist so the last two was me hitting randomize and drawing a pic based on the song before it finished. the second one technically isn’t that cause charlie’s inferno isn’t on apple music cause they hate me so it’s way more of the song out of spite because they wouldn’t give it to me.

[dykedvonte]

I hate the stretch lines in the front of Curly's uniform because that means the devs rushed to make a model in like a month or so and thought "They gotta at least know he has huge knockers, gotta know he's got back pain." Cause like what is the thematic importance of his tits having overhang?

What responsibility is that representing? Breast reduction? It shows an inherent greed in his character due to the excess and heshouldletmeholdone and that he clearly is blinded cause if he tries to look down his damn ladder all he's seeing is his own cleavage.

[vani-ash]

Saw this on tt and wanted to share it Via TikTok

[mumpsetc]

Hey Cheerilee Hey Cheerilee!

[stergeon]

> FERDINAND II.

And so your PLANT shall henceforth be known as FERDINAND II.

The thought of needing to inform FERDINAND I of his having a namesake makes you a bit ill, but you are already hard at work devising several plausible excuses for the gesture. Something about how you've named it after the one most invested in its naming, or how it is similarly prone to drooling. Yes. Yes, you will be able to deflect quite easily, should the need arise. It has nothing to do with your fondness for FERDINAND or your desire for a substitute in his imminent absence, no—again, you are not so prone to sentimentality. It's about the drool.

Well, anyway. Best to move on with your day and think about something else, lest you grow maudlin or cultivate further affection for the PLANT. May the GODDESS be merciful and never cause you to develop inclinations that could be described as paternal.

Now that your plant has received sufficient care, it is time for COFFEE. You set to making your morning brew. By CHANCE, there happens to be sufficient water remaining in the kettle for FERDINAND I to have TEA, should he wish it.

Per your TIMEPIECE, it is now a quarter to eight. You have made excellent progress on your PRE-BREAKFAST TO-DO LIST thus far: the only remaining task is to remove FERDINAND. You are starting to get rather peckish and would like to be rid of him quickly, but over the past week, you have found that extracting the man from YOUR QUARTERS is a more arduous task than it ought to be.

#007 | << | <- | -> | JOURNAL | HOW TO PLAY | ALL POSTS

[outfoxt]

this is going to sound really fucked up but i just need to say it i think.

I never realized that people could actually care. I always thought that the depictions of friendship in movies and TV shows were over-the-top portrayals, and weren't things that actually happened. This was then exacerbated by the fact that my entire life I always wanted people to just Know How I Was Feeling like they do on TV and I found out that that's Not How It Works. I always thought I was naive for caring so much about my friends and for doing nice things for them out of the blue, and I always resented myself for resenting my parents for not doing more for me as a child.

So when I got to uni, and my friends started caring about me and asking if I was ok when I looked sad and doing nice things for me, I didn't know what to do with myself. It was the nicest thing anyone had ever done for me in a long time. When I was staying with a friend, and she said that she left the window open in the room I was going to be staying in because I liked it to be cold when i sleep, I bluescreened. I didn't know how to respond. It is quite literally one of the nicest things anyone had ever done for me. No one had ever paid that much attention to the things I liked. Every year on my birthday it was either a gamble if I would get something I actually wanted from my parents (spoiler alert: I was often disappointed) or I would just have to straight up tell them what I wanted. I got accustomed to the latter, and now I don't mind, but receiving two gifts from friends about languages this year made me realize that I could have it so much better.

And don't even get me started on online friends. I sort of thought that everyone was lying about them? Or that it was something unattainable, and reserved only for God's Chosen Favorites or something. But no, there are little people in my phone who care about me. They legitimately care about me as much as I care about them. I've been nervous to ask them about their well-being because I'm still nervous about being naive and getting a wake-up call that no one cares again, but after being told that they were worried about me when I overslept, I think i should know that I'm in the clear. And that's not even including all the times they tell me to go to bed when it's late, and when they ping me about things I may enjoy or things I was involved in.

All this is to say I guess that I'm touched that people remember my existence. It makes me feel good to be wanted. I will be eternally grateful to both my irl and online friends who made me realize that just because my parents or my friends from home didn't care enough to remember what I like or to go out of their way to do nice things for me, it doesn't mean that no one will. I need to step up and do more for you guys. I trained myself to push down my desire to help and check in with people because I thought I was betting on something that I'd never get in return, but now I know I can.

Thank you all, and I love you 💚

[ragequat]

you should have seen my face when i opened my tumblr activity and THIS was the first thing I saw. I have so many questions. Why reblog my post, when in fact, said post was never mine and was in fact a reblog of a reblog? Thats one thing, but the PROFILE PICTURE. lord I shit my pants like scrooge the moment the 3 christmas ghosts appeared before his bed. Why do you do this?..is your purpose to envoke fear within such innocent innocents as myself, serve as the cheapest internet laxitive? If I were to show this screenshot to a victorian child, they would have so many questions. What is a reblog, what is that image, and what the hell is THAT and then die of the black plague and starvation and genuine shock because the exorcist next door failed to exorcise the demons out of their grandma and now after hundreds of years those same demons show their face within tumbler user ryboo's profile picture. Is this your goal? Well congratulations, kind sir or ma'am or them. For you have completed your one true purpose, to breed fear within the tumblr nation.

[this is satire i just found it so funny]

[thecherrygod]

i need to stop having people from class around me that make me feel so angry i want to eat glass.

[memorialbabe]

There's porn words in here I wrote em

Based off of this:

You never really knew what it felt like to be knocked out before and, in a way, you still don’t. There isn’t a lot you know for sure right now, but it feels safe to bet that you were knocked out, and that you have woken up after that, and that you are now in the trunk of a moving vehicle - probably a sedan from how cramped and warm it is. You do kinda have to pee. 

You’re gonna try to not think about that though because you are really starting to worry about not remembering where you were or what you were doing just before this. And also you don’t want to piss yourself right now, it’s a very bad time and it feels like whenever your kidnapper opens the trunk it will be a very bad second impression to have wet pants and to have pissed all over their car. Okay though, back up, will it just be a second impression? Who knocked you out? Was that the first time you and they have met? Is it just one person? If so, are they hot? This situation is very scary and you very much are not going to throw yourself at whoever did this but you have definitely thought about getting kidnapped in what was definitely a sexual fantasy before. You’re gonna try to not think about that either.

But alright, you’re clever, rack your brain for ways to figure out where you’re going based on what’s going on with the car. Go ahead. You can’t really move, and you don’t hear any noise except for the engine - seems to be a regular gas engine and not an electric or something - and the occasional car passing or being passed, so, great, you’re on a road, in a car. You figured it out. Well, there’s bumps now and then and those hurt, and there’s the other person in here, their knee is pressing on yours and it’s starting to hurt. 

Huh. There’s the other person in here. Explains why it’s so hard to move, and so warm, and a little humid, sweaty even. 

“Am I gagged?” you ask, in a way that is both useful and useless.

Then, too loud and right in front of your face, “Agh-” a thump, “fuck,” and you can hear that they trail off into a rapid, panicked breath for a second before that noise is overridden by them squirming just so much to try to get a look at you, which they can’t and don’t, and also they’re mostly just pushing off of you to turn toward you, and they’re already facing you, and also can’t really move anyway, so it’s even more useless than the thing you said. But hey, their knee is off of your knee, and that’s nice. 

“Uh, damn. Sorry,” you say with a tone very much implying you’d nervously scratch the back of your head while you said it if you could. Your hands can only move so much, though now that they know you’re in here with them there’s a modicum of space in between you - they had evidently been hogging all of it behind them - but the limits space-wise right now sorta restrict your arms to being very bent and in front of you and touching theirs. Their skin is warm, and yours isn’t really cold either, so neither of you is undead, good info, good knowledge. 

In all of the squirming they did, it seems like your legs are now actually more entangled than before while your upper halves have been pushed maybe a foot apart from each other. “Who the fuck are you?” is all you get back, which is a good question, and though it wasn’t asked politely, y’know, they have a certain huskiness in their voice that lets you get past it. That being said, you definitely have to work on your priorities here, but it’s not like you’re gonna not answer them. 

You say your name which gets no response, it’s a name, you have one, so does everyone else, not really special and they obviously don’t recognize it (if you have a weird name, they go “really?” and you go “yeah” and they move on). So, you don’t know each other. Just two strangers in the trunk of a moving car, kinda grumpy, maybe hungry, and oh yeah you have to pee. “I have to pee,” you say out loud, supposedly to your trunk-bound compatriot but somehow just to the air. 

“No you do not.”

“Yeah, I know, sorry.”

“Well you can’t, so.”

You pause.

“No. You can’t. Next subject.”

“Okay, what’s your name then?”

“Harmonica.”

“Really?”

“Yeah.” 

(This plays better if you have a weird name.)

You pause again, and try to move your arm which is getting a little tired of being where it is, but they stop you and move it back.

“You can call me Harm, and please keep your hands to yourself.” You can hear the glare, it really presses on your chest and you can’t help but get a little red in the ears about the misunderstanding.

Okay wait a second, you absolutely cannot keep your hands to yourself, and neither can they. Wait, like, another second though. “They/them?” you ask, for some fucking reason. It’s like, really bad timing, but you’re narrating this in your head for the reader so you need the correct pronouns. 

“Really???? Keep your hands to yourself gets a pronoun check??” The implied glare is starting to bruise your solar plexus.

“I- alright. You know neither of us can keep from touching the other, what the hell? And it just- I just wanted to make sure, I dunno, for in my head.” You definitely tried some diffusing gesticulations here but at this point they have grabbed your wrists to stop you from doing any of that either.

“You were clearly going straight for my tits.”

“What????” Neither of you can fully absorb how much that doesn’t make sense to you just from how you asked, but it’s like, pretty close. “How was I supposed to know that, I can’t see shit, and I didn’t even know you had those, and also, uh, not really my first instinct, personally. You don’t know that about me, but I promise.”

“Huh.”

“Huh?”

They let go of your wrists, which is nice, they could probably have taken your pulse to tell you how far over 100 bpm it is. And then: oh. Oh yeah okay you were blindfolded and didn’t really notice, you kinda just assumed it was dark in the trunk. Which like, yeah it is dark, it’s dark enough that you can only really see outlines even though your eyes are pretty adjusted by now, but yeah what Harm said checks out, you definitely would have been reaching for their boobs. And yeah no wonder it’s cramped in here, awooga. They seem to be about your height and pretty big, fat most places but definitely fat and muscly on the arms. You’re honestly lucky you can see them at all, not just because they’re nice to look at, but it seems like you’re getting some of the tail light glow through cracks between the fabric trim pieces of the trunk. So, hey, it’s likely night time, that’s probably the first real clue you’ve gotten.

“Yeah, they/them. You?”

You say your pronouns.

“Oh, yeah, obviously.” You both chuckle at that. 

You wonder how much of you Harm can see. You’re further from the rear of the vehicle where the barest hint of red light is coming from, which means they’re all outlines and silhouettes to you, but for all you know they might be able to see your face if the angles work out just right. 

“So what brings you here, stranger?” Harm ironicizes at you. Genuinely super nice of them btw, they do not have to diffuse the situation for you, but they do. 

“Oh you know,” you smarm, smarmily, “probably a concussion.” You both let off some pressure laughs and you finally relax your shoulders. Somehow now, it looks like they’re how they’d be if you were both just lying down somewhere together, head tilted toward the floor because the stress has bled off and they don’t have to keep their neck rigid anymore. You can almost picture their face, and what it would look like while looking at you right now. 

“Yeah no same. Really sucks too because I can just feel where I got thumped from how much it hurts to have my head pressing against the wall. Or, uh I dunno, side of the trunk, whatever.” Yeah they are kinda further that way than you, above you if you flip the whole thing turnways. 

“Here, uh-” you offer something and they just nonverbally oblige, so now you’ve sorta scooted, but more like just rearranged your legs so Harm can scoot down, which they are relieved to do. And now, well. Your hands aren’t exactly any further from their boobs, and you’re basically hips-to-hips here.

“Ohmygodthankyou. So where’d they get you?”

“Like, on the head? Because I don’t really know, nothing hurts. Maybe they actually used knockout gas.”

“That’s not real. And also your breath isn’t that bad, so I don’t think so anyway.”

“Knockout gas gives you bad breath?”

“Well, it’s not real, so no, but I imagine it would.”

“Yeah okay.” You both let it sit there for a second before Harm cuts back in.

“No wait, I meant like, where geographically.”

“Oooooooh. No idea, I straight up do not remember how I got here.”

“Thanks for being straight up with me. I appreciate it.”

“Of course, of course.” They’re very much letting you smarm, which you appreciate. 

You keep letting the conversation lie which leaves these pauses where you’re noticing things like how you’re definitely pretty leg-locked here, one of theirs on the bottom, then one of yours, theirs, yours. That’s left you both pretty stationary, which means neither of you has room to move but the bumps in the road don’t affect either of you as much. And you’re pretty sure you can feel your leg, the one between theirs, getting a little warmer. Checking, checking… okay no, you haven’t peed, great job. It’s uh- checking again… okay well they didn’t pee either, but it’s definitely Harmonica. Well. You would do one of those “is that a harmonica in your pocket or are you just happy to be pressed up against me in the trunk of a stranger’s car after getting concussed and kidnapped” jokes but honestly you don’t wanna draw attention to it. They diffused the tension for you earlier, you can ignore the hot fat person’s boner. 

“So uh, is that a harmonica in your p-” a particularly bad bump in the road cuts you off thank fucking christ. Seems like a pothole big enough to cause a flat because the tire is ka-thumping and your hand ends up on one of Harm’s boobs. They either don’t notice or don’t bring it up.

“Oh fucking sick, nice, yes.” They are so hype about this - the flat tire not the hand-boob action - they are bouncing up and down - very nice for the hand-boob action - or like, left and right but y’know, your orientation. “Okay so like, wherever the fuck they were taking us, no way we’re getting there now. I don’t - like, no way they just let us go, right? But also way better than going to Destination Who-Fucking-Knows. Probably.”

“Here’s hoping.” Hard to get a lot of words out when you are spending a lot of your mental power focusing on the whole hand-boob thing. Not even lecherously - though there is that - but like if you draw too much attention to it suddenly it’s a whole thing and it’s not like you’re squeezing it’s sorta just on there and also you have to try really hard to not say some dumbass shit. But you’re powering through. 

“Do we have a plan?” They’re obviously looking at you expectantly even though you can’t see them doing that and also they were awake longer than you. That being said, you’re pretty active in your head, so who knows maybe you would’ve, but things being how they are, you’ve been distracted. 

Hm… a plan, a plan… No you definitely don’t have anything. You’re pretty sure it’s harder to kick out the tail lights than you’ve heard, and the situation definitely wouldn’t even allow for that. Plus like, what does that get you when your kidnapper is pulled over on the side of the road? Oh, now they know you’re awake and resisting, that’s great. You guess it depends what happens next. They have just pulled over, but are they waiting for like, roadside assistance or something? Not like they’re gonna be changing the tire, you’re in the trunk and that’s usually where all the spare tire and all the tools to put it on the car are. So yeah, roadside assistance. Wait for someone to come help and scream, easy peasy. “I guess we wait until someone comes to fix the tire and then we just scream.” Simple, you thought it through, you’re helping. And you totally forgot about how warm and sweat-moist Harm’s boob is under your hand. 

“That’s the best we got? I guess it’ll-.” You both choke up, hearts caught in your throat. No fucking way. This absolute horror that kidnapped you thought about this, planned for this. The car is being jacked up so that the tire can be changed. So, to be clear, this asshole was driving around with a spare tire in, at best, the back seat, for what, hours? Who knows, you can’t use your phone to search for the average length of being knocked out by blunt force (the real answer is not very long at all if you’re this coherent afterward, but whatever it’s a scary thought). 

Both of you barely breathe for the entirety of what is clearly a tire removal and replacement. It’s minutes, your kidnapper is not one of those guys that changes out tires quick for NASCAR - and no you’re not counting that as a clue - but you could see it taking you longer. The car is on all four wheels again, you and Harmony jostle into each other some at the jolt, and the engine turns over, and you’re in motion. The acceleration tells you that your kidnapper is getting back up to freeway speeds, and the momentum pushes you into Harm. 

Okay so like, you don’t wanna be weird about it, or make it a whole thing, but she definitely had like an entire hard on once it was obvious that your kidnapper was just fixing it. So, what? They’re getting off on the horror of the whole situation? The elevated heart rate from stress and the adrenaline just happened to give the thing blood flow? You mean, it’s not huge, it probably isn’t that difficult to get it up to full power, but still. And what? You’re just gonna go, “Uh, Harmony, why are you hard?” No wait, those quotation marks aren’t real right? You kept that as an inside thought, Right? 

“I- wh-” there are a few more false starts before they give up. Evidently it’s now quiet time. Even though you have your fellow kidnappee’s throbbing thing pressed pretty hard against your thigh, it’s quiet time. Even though your hand is in an arguably more entrenched position on their boob after all the jostling, it’s quiet time. Even though they’re breathing pretty hot against your ear, it’s quiet fucking time. Not like, a quiet time in which there is fucking though, oh no. Not that kind of quiet fucking time. They straighten their back a bit, probably so they feel a bit more composed, or, well, your hand is like, cupping boob now. But no, it’s for composure. “Whatever,” you hear, quiet and close. 

“Whatever is fine,” is all you can think to get out in return. Honestly, how can you even blame them, the slight bouncing and jiggling from the road could easily get you started if you put yourself in their shoes, especially now that you’re close, and to be honest the stress does get your heart going and it’s not like that isn’t exciting. Yeah, you could see it, especially if you start to notice how warm their thigh is on your dick, and y’know, you were already sorta halfway there just naturally - and honestly that’s controlled given the hand-boob situation that you have been very cool about - so like, yeah, you could see how you would and also absolutely do have your own boner pressing against their leg. 

And they don’t seem upset about it, they definitely aren’t bringing it up like you did, no they’re letting you get away with it. Hell, they’re being really nice about it, they’re kinda moving their hips so that, it uh, it feels pretty good. And they’re still basically pressed against you, breathing right into your ear, maybe a little faster now, and you’re both sweating from being this close and stressed and moving and you go for it. 

You say the quiet part loud - but with your actions so not at all out loud - you give the tit in your hand a gentle squeeze. They lean and shudder into you, breath as hot as ever in your ear and you really don’t want that to stop. Harm squeezes an arm past you on the above-side and wraps it around you, holding you close there like that, and it’s nice to have something soft against your back. They’re basically grinding on you now, you’re getting a lot of positive signs here but no words. Are they just too shy to say anything, even let out a moan? I mean, you wouldn’t really think of them as shy given your conversation so far. And fuck is it way too dark, you wish you could actually see them, see whatever look is on their face that would tell you what they’re feeling. All you have to go off of is the kiss they’re planting on you, which definitely seems to be yet another affirmative. 

“Is this okay?” you try to huff out, your own breath coming out in shovelfuls, but they’re just kissing you again, their other arm, bent and between the two of you near the floor, reaches up and strokes your cheek. Their kiss is maybe a bit too wet - though the whole atmosphere of sweat you’re submerged in is probably what makes it feel “too” anything - and their lips are big and soft and probably had some flavored chapstick on earlier that day, but now Harm just tastes like their mouth, and honestly it isn’t bad. 

You’re catching up to yourself here, because you’ve definitely been kissing back and, wow nice you were the one to introduce tongue here, though theirs is definitely longer and they are thankfully using it so much more than you. You’ve also been grinding back against them, the two of you at this point like pistons, in together, out together, the space there on the out togethers letting both of your dicks stand up properly instead of being pushed down against a thigh, under just a couple layers of fabric each. 

You’ve been playing it safe with your boob hand and just rhythmically giving Harm a nice squeeze with a little bit of push or pull. Obviously they’re into that, but the way they’re straightening their back and pushing their chest out to get your hand pressed harder against them and… and oh my god the whine they let into your mouth while they do, finally some actual noise! It’s so nice to hear that you can’t help yourself, you try to put your arm around them, but they stop you. Or, it seems like they went to grab your hand at the same time you went to do that.

Harm kinda lets up on the kissing so you pay attention and so that they’re clear, and they’re so fucking obviously looking in your eyes even though you can’t really see that, they’re really trying to send a message to you here. With the hand they grabbed they lead your fingers to the buckle of their belt and do their absolute fucking best to help you unbuckle it with just the one hand they have on this side of you. It’s a bit of a mess, and you’re both sweating onto each other and onto the floor of this stupid trunk, and you trade a chuckle a couple times as one or the other of you fumbles it, but it comes undone. 

You barely even notice the noise outside the car anymore, with the belt buckle done you still have to unclasp AND unzip their shorts but by now you’ve realized you have two hands and that frees them up to raise their hand to your chest and they do not play it nearly as safe. They don’t just do whatever to your tits like they own the place, but they’re trying some things and god whatever the fucking they’re doing to your nipple through your shirt now feels so good that you let out a “fuck” and you can tell that they’re kissing a little different for a sec because they’re smiling. But the smile and the kiss are both broken off once you finally get it out, once you get their cock in your hand, warm and hot and wet as all fuck from what obviously isn’t sweat, they shudder as chills run up and down them and they’re very much just mouthing a long, triumphant “ooooooooooooooooooooh my god.” Harmonica can’t help from letting out a couple of greedy little humps into your hand before squeezing the arm that they’ve had around you and pulling in close so they’re against your ear again.

“Now you, now you,” they let out in breathy whimpers, pleas. You nod and oblige them, but you don’t wanna stop grabbing their dick, you haven’t even really done anything with it yet, but it’s so hard to give it the attention it deserves while you and Harm fumble with your whole shorts situation to get yours out. You do your best, but you can tell every time you move your hand and end up peeling back their foreskin just a bit that they lose all fucking function. Or, their fucking function works great, they break down and fuck your hand a little, it’s all the other functions that stop. And honestly you’re not much better, you’re not even really noticing that one loud noise in the background, especially once all of your clothing between the hips and knees is pulled down below your balls so it stays there. 

The muggy air in the trunk isn’t that much different from how it was inside your shorts just a second ago but it still feels like a breath of fresh air before your dick is plunged into the soft but determined depths of Harm’s hand - and honestly in there it feels like you’re getting shocked because your whole body clenches up at it. It’s electrifying like that, it feels so good after all the build up. It’s hot around your cock, hotter than you’ve ever felt before, hotter than what you imagine having penetrative sex with someone who has a fever is. Don’t get sidetracked though or you’ll notice the weird red and blue lighting peeking through the cracks of the trunk’s fabric trim, instead notice how because you clenched up, you really squeezed Harm’s cock and, after the full fifteen seconds where they couldn’t do anything, they decide that you’ve made it a competition and they start stroking you like you were close to cumming. And maybe they’re onto something with that. So you plant your lips on theirs instead of just huffing at each other and you let out some choice moans into their mouth and you start jerking them off like you want them to plaster you into this trunk forever. 

Honestly, you’re doing too well, you’re absolute destroying them at this competition of who can make the other cum first or hardest or whatever the fuck - Harm’s hand has let go and they’re largely just shuddering against you from the pleasure - so you decide to make it a fair game and you wrap both of your hands around both of your cocks and press them together. From there, there’s nothing either of you could do, you both just make the fuck out and hump into your hands and into each other for what feels like an eternity and an instant. One of you lets out one of the dumbest little “I love you”s somewhere in the mess, and Harm gets it together enough to repay your efforts with the frotting handjob by finally reaching the hand they had around you down to your ass. Their fingers break the waistband and give your ass such a full fucking squeeze before - huh yeah you guess you’re sweaty enough that could work - they press against your asshole, toying, teasing. Holy shit how did they go from being shut down from a good couple strokes to fingering you while fucking your hands?

Well, those weird red and blue lights you didn’t really notice are gone and the car is moving again. Huh, shit, it was stopped. Wild. You’re too busy with the important stuff, like how Harm is biting your lip now just to tease you, or how you do it back and then neither of you really thinks straight for a fucking second because you tell Harmonica to turn around and they just nod. The movement of the car pushed you both toward the rear again so you back up a bit to give them room but they just extract their arm from behind you, spit on it, and jerk you off a bit more before doing their very fucking best to turn around. It takes a minute, and you can’t help but lean in and kiss them wherever you can land one while they keep making adjustments so they can fully spin in place.

It’s so worth the wait, you let your hands run up and down them as best you can now, and you feel like you can finally really picture them, or at least what they look like from here behind just before you’re about to put it in. They’re broad and their fat rolls over easily, giving them lots of curves and folds around their midsection and oh god their ass is fucking massive. You’re lucky this takes longer to read and think than it does to actually do or they’d be getting impatient, but you can tell they’re really getting off on how much attention you’re paying in this little moment, and once you start playing with their huge ass you can hear and feel them start to jack off again, so you decide to not let them finish alone. 

Holding it around the tip, you move it up and down between their stupidly soft cheeks for just a second, long enough for them to tease you back by pushing their ass up against you, so you’ll take the hint. You press your cock against their asshole, lubed by lover’s spit and ready to go, grab their hip on the above-side and thrust into Harm. “Oh my fucking god,” you both let out. If you were both being honest as you started fucking their ass, this is probably pretty mid sex, but the whole situation has made you like a couple of starving diners at a free buffet drinking water and going apeshit over it. But who’s gonna judge you for taking a deep drink from the only person stuck in this situation with you? Certainly not the person you’re inside of right now, who is definitely letting out yet even more foolish “I love you”s, but at this point you’re believing them and you’re saying it back, you’re saying you’re gonna knock them up and marry them and get kidnapped together for fun again just to have some really hot and sentimental sex. They laugh and start moving their hips just-so and pushing you over the edge. 

You make some huffy moans as a signal that you’re at the finish line and they just start pushing their ass against you in time with you as fast as you can both go in the trunk of this fucking car to let you know that neither of you is moving for it, just do like you said, knock them up, cum inside, you’re theirs, do it, they’re ready. They’re breathing just as hard, just as pathetic, no way they aren’t going to cum too. So you just let go, you two break pace with each other, it’s entirely uncoordinated but it’s not synchronized fucking, and you grab onto their hip as best you can and let everything you have go inside of them. Like five seconds later you can hear their hand slow down as they let out a groan that sounds like their soul is leaving and they shudder like their muscles are failing. 

“Holy shit,” Harm moans out after a couple of huffy minutes. “Fucking… cuddle me a bit, huh?”

You do, you were a bit but you wanted to give them space since you’re both huffing and sweating more than if you finished a marathon a second ago, but now you pull them in close, your dick still casually hiding between their cheeks. Harmonica snuggles up to you while you spoon them and wiggles their hips against you, but you both know there’s no round two here, it’s just cute fun. They move your hand so that it’s squeezing a boob again, all nonchalant, just for comfort. 

“Thanks, sweetie.”

“No problem, love you.”

“Yeah, yeah.”

It’s still dark, you still can’t really see, the car is still moving down some road somewhere, but it’s a bit nicer now, and honestly, the whole thing has left you tired. You drift off to unconsciousness again, which is the only way you enter or leave this dark little trunk space, it would seem. 

You wake up before Harmonica, the sun rising on the now-open trunk. You’d be cold if you weren’t so entrenched in a post-sex cuddle, so you don’t move much while you figure out where you are. It smells arboreal, pine trees. That matches up with the pine trees you’re seeing tbh. You’re facing the sun from here, guess that’s a clue. The morning dew is definitely getting to you, you’re as wet as you were when you were sweating all over each other, but that doesn’t really tell you much. Oh fuck it, you don’t wanna move yet, maybe ever. ------------------------------------------------------------------------

The kidnapper finally made it, after a flat tire, police pulling them over, having to stop for a cow crossing, going through a drive thru, hitting a deer, a second flat tire, dead headlights, going the wrong way for like 60 miles, and a rest stop to shit. Finally. They pull the gun out of the glovebox just in case those two try anything and head to the back. They put the key in, and pop the trunk. 

Yeah those two fucked. And at least one of them pissed back there. Whatever, man. They go into their cabin and go the fuck to bed. Who even cares anymore. Leave the trunk open, maybe bears will get ‘em. 

[jaybirdsandbabybats]

linke saying viktor is ace as an excuse to deter the jayvik shippers man shut the hell up. you can be gay and ace. you cam be gay and ace and still be sex positive.

dude can just straight up say "i dont like jayvik but if you see it that way i don't know what to say" instead of starting fires with all his non-answers in interviews

[swagman217]

finally making an actual pinned YIPPEE

MITCH, he/him, im a MINOR!!

proship dni , i block freely

#lucsart <- my art

current fandoms: #portal #discoelysium #onepiece #hlvrai #marblehornets #carseatheadrest #trigun #metalgearsolid #aceattorney

[nostalgia-tblr]

i've been trying to Do Tumblr Correctly and only Like posts so I can return later and Reblog them but I don't remember to do the Reblogging and some of the Likes were just in case I did so my Likes page is as unhelpful as it was before but now I also feel the loss of Liking things just to show whoever posted it that that I saw it.

Also I must say I am, in general, not a fan of the Tumblr Use Rules that you only find out about when people tell you off for not following them.

[lycanstonebutch]

Lowkey have given up on mutual aid, idk why i ever thought ppl could actually organize to support a strike through mutual aid

500$ docked from my paycheck bcuz we thought mutual aid and community would have our back but i hardly get any ppl even bother reblogging our posts and havent gotten a single cent which like donations whatever ik were all struggling but hardly any reblogs? Thats literally free.

Like not even 50 reblogs from different ppl.

Not to sound entitled or whatever but im tired of being a support level 2 autistic with like 2 stupid physical disabilities and D.I.D having to maintain a 40h work week and trying to help people whenever i can but the moment i fucking falter i just have to eat shit and push harder and kill myself trying to stay afloat cuz no one can even be bothered to point and go "heyyy someones drowning can anyone help!!"

Like seriously not even 50 individual reblogs, theres 100 smth notes and 3/4 of them are from ppl in our system desperately trying to get attention to our situatuon

[neurotypicalraphael]

People keep saying that rise Mikey is the only turtle that isn't emotionally constipated, but guys I don't think rise Raph is either. Like. He's pretty open about how he feels and doesn't really hesitate to let people know.

[m-rningdew]

BLOOD UNDER CUT !!! ⚠️⚠️⚠️⚠️

The danganronpa blood was just for fun I don't actually play that game lawl