I relate to lottie because if I had to soothe a group of cannibal teens in the wilderness who for some reason depended on my guidance, I too would probably just start throwing out fucking dbt ass name five things you can see techniques and pray none of them knew what it was
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I’m so fucking sick of people calling Ray the “normal” one in mcr. He’s so far from normal. Not only is he just as weird and strange as the others, but he may actually be worse, he’s the definition of balls to the wall. Like, do you know the type of person you have to be to be best friends with Gerard Way for over two decades? And to know them so well its like you’re an extension of their creative process? To be able to make those weird little dream in his head a reality? Do you know how absolutely off kilter your brain has to be? Ray wrote the instrumentation for the Breakfast Monkey pilot. He loves wrestling so much, there’s a decent chance you can watch an old WWE match and see him in the crowd losing his mind. He used to carry a little spider man action figure in his pocket all the time. He learned how to play guitar by ear, by listening to his favorites and then mashing the lead and rhythm guitar parts together, that’s why he plays Like That now. He has a degree in film, and wrote and filmed a short where a guy is obsessed with eggs and goes insane when he can’t open the last one in his dozen. He wrote mama on a dare. A dare. Like, hello!?!?!
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all wanda childa did was show up, be so tiny, give THE oscar worthy performance that would make Hollywood executives shit their pants to give her a franchise, die, be carried off so tinyly by a fake rendition of the rage god 's champion (w/ top tier symbolism), and leave men absolutely traumatized
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Speaking of Ony loving big girls…
Just think about how feral this man would be eating you out.
I’m talking growlin’, spittin’, slapping yo pussy.
“Oh, fuck! Onyyy!” You shouted into your arm as you rode against his face, your hand palming his head, occasionally pulling him in to grind harder against his tongue. It felt so good he had you trembling—hence it being your fourth orgasm this morning.
This man will eat it in the morning, in the afternoon, at night—anytime he feels he wants it, he gon eat it. And good too.
At one point he wants you to sit in his face and drown him in your juices. You have no chance to get an answer, until he’s flipping you over and placing you down on your new chair.
His tongue dug deep inside of you while one of his big hands squeezed the fatty flesh of your ass roughly, kneeding it in his thick hands as he was basically drowning himself in your fluids.
Maaannnn
SOMEONE WRITE THIS OUT RN
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