Nov 27, 2024
Drew Puck, one of my ocs from my Sci Fi World!
He’s a burrowing bug, one of my alien critters! Funny bug… furry bug… isn’t that great?
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seen from Türkiye
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seen from United States
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seen from Malaysia
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seen from China
Drew Puck, one of my ocs from my Sci Fi World!
He’s a burrowing bug, one of my alien critters! Funny bug… furry bug… isn’t that great?
Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
Free to watch • No registration required • HD streaming
Ive been having so much fun with this pixel brush its unreal. Anyways have puck
Puck looking at the dumpster fire that is Sturm's engine compartment.
Please enjoy some Puck milkers in these trying times
Sleepy Puck hours
Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
Free to watch • No registration required • HD streaming
Who's puck, if ya don't mind me askin?
Puck is my mechanic OC! I've had him for the last nine or ten years now, but I finally feel comfortable in my artistic ability to show him off.
He's transgender, has a loving husband and works out of his family owned shop. I have had a complex story for all my guys it's just getting it translated to a visual format that's been kicking my ass.
For the PC asks, 1 and 9 for puck?
1.Puck does sleep with a couple of stuffies, a kitty he's had since he was young. A few his husband bought him.
9.He's sympathetic towards his cars/cars he works on, and the plants in his garden.
The motorcycle putters to a complete stop. This is it; sale day. Naenia tugs off her goggles and shakes out her dry, chemical treated hair, patting down any frizz that may have sprung up on the ride over. She removes a shard of mirror glass from the pocket on her tattered skirt (damn, need to hem the edges again it seems), checking the thick oily ‘makeup’ around her eyes and the clay on her lips.
Perfect.
She unhitches a large bag from the back of her ride, selects a sizeable red rock nearby, and begins to set up shop. It’s not that far from the Citadel here, and in fact, the wanderer can see the craggy fortress quite clearly. She’s near a path she’s seen many travel and drive before, the perfect place for commerce. Bits and baubles are set up along her rock, mostly worthless but shiny; each one has a bullshit story attached to it, perfect to sell it to some unwitting buyer.
A few old, worn signs are leant against the front of the rock. One says For Sale, one claims For Trade, and the last bears the ambiguous words For Hire. Naenia unstraps her floral umbrella from her bike and plants it in the sand, spreads a dusty but clean piece of tarp down, and sits with her legs folded under her in the shade.
It’s time to open for business.