#a pallet full of you

[ghostingink]

That’s why, that’s why, that’s why right now…

There was an attempt to make something cool and slightly different from my usual stuff

[skitskatdacat63]

Here are some other F3 Seb pics I thought were really cute

[forgetfulmachineart]

[ID: Teen Gojo pouting and crying shiny tears. He's resting his chin on is arm on a desk and his circular glasses are in his hands. Some of the star tears float off and some drip down his face. /End ID]

⭐ Star Boy ⭐

[dazzelmethat]

He has his mother's eyes. ❤️🐓🐍❤️

Young Renard and his mom Zina.

[dreamyprinx]

gasp! another character ref sheet! this time for my character Lanturn Lustre, a student wizard just trying to get by! his mean of getting by may or may not include seducing rich men into giving him expensive gifts and money and he may or may not have gotten a bit too use to living lavishly,,,

✧ reblogs are appreciated ✧ | ♡ buy me a kofi ♡ | ☾ commission info ☽ | ☁︎ click for better quality ☁︎

[when-fanart-ensues]

today's art is brought to you by my thought of "hey what if chimpanzees had pharyngeal jaws, wouldn't that be fucked up?" and thus this baby was born.

[rum-and-shattered-dreams]

More and more I am convinced that the religious right has been fooled by the devil pretending to be their god.

[beach4boy3]

Seismic Pallet Rack, Racking, new and used, shelving, cantilever rack (concord / pleasant hill / martinez)

[orcelito]

i need the fucking fluffiest goddamned vashwood fic around

pls if someone could hook me up PLEASE help

[the-rollerchloster]

.

[skitskatdacat63]

2009 Bahrain Grand Prix - Jenson Button(ft. Sebastian Vettel & Jarno Trulli)

[bigassbowlingballhead]

You can really feel the budget difference between 911 and station 19

[lxnelyhearrt]

.

[confetti-critter]

today was hell on earth it turns out I messed up the big order of jeans I was doing for 2 days (in between doing other stuff), and you only know if you messed up at the very end and we didn’t know if the count was wrong or what, so I had to take all the rubber bands (3 for each order because jeans are big and bulky and suck) +order forms off each order (50+ orders, 9 or 11 items each) and put the sizes (6-16) back in the boxes and count them all, then I had to find all the order papers, put them back in order, then fill them all out AGAIN.

on top of that I filled out a supply order twice so I had to deal with that, and near the end of the day I was moving big palettes of boxes around but I put the wrong palette at my work station, took it back, got the other one, then realized I actually got the right one at first so I had to put that one back and get the first one.

[vapekingg]

“You know I like my girls a little bit older.” — Your Love by The Outfield

February 14th, 1986

Eddie knows exactly how you want to spend your first Valentine’s Day together — in the back of his van with the windows steamed up.

A takeout pizza sits half-eaten and torn apart in the box near a makeshift pallet that you’ve gotten somewhat used to over the past few months. A single floodlight that shines into the front windshield is the only light, and it’s just enough. Just enough to cast Eddie in this dim orange-gold glow that shimmers off of the sweat dripping down his stomach.

He always gets worked over pretty quickly when you’re on top, and tonight you needed it. That control, that stress relief.

You’d told your boss at the record shop that Valentine’s Day would be a banger. It has been since you’d started there at sixteen. But what would you know? He’d scheduled you open to close, all by yourself, no question as to whether or not you might want to spend today with your boyfriend.

“Motherfucker,” Eddie’s moan wavers as his head lulls back against the inner wall of his van.

He’s all soft when it’s like this. All praise and devotion. Eddie’s palms swirl around the globes of your ass gently as you lift your hips up and down. He’s holding you close, your beasts against the warmth of his chest, your clit grinding against the coarse hair beneath his waist, his little grunts and cries and whimpers dying along the column of your throat. They inch up your neck and tickle your ear, urging you to keep going despite the burn in your thighs.

“It’s okay, baby. Just take what you need,” Eddie says between labored breaths when he notices the tremble in your hips.

But what you need is him deeper.

You adjust yourself above him, leaning back on your palms so that he slips further inside of you, the base of his cock widening to stretch you open.

There it is.

“Fuck!” You rasp, your hips jerking forward from sudden sensitivity.

Every rut drives you closer to the edge. Every stroke drags the veins of his thick cock against the walls of your dripping cunt. Sweat slicked palms trace up the curve of your thighs to keep you balanced while you ride, and each inch of your skin grazed is ignited like wildfire.

“That’s it, angel. Look at you,” he grits between clenched teeth. “Thought about this all fucking day…”

It must be killing him, holding back like this.

If it were up to him — and it usually is — you would be bent over the front seat right now. You wouldn’t know your own goddamn name, let alone care.

But you like how he looks when he lets you take control. His eyes half lidded and mouth slightly parted, sweat clinging to the hair framing his pretty face. It made the trembling thighs worth it.

“Did you?” You ask him, not caring so much if he responds but knowing that Eddie just likes to hear you when he’s like this.

“Ffffuck, yeah I did…” he moans, his grip tightening on your hips.

Another rut of your hips and his upward thrust meets yours.

"Eddie—" You cry out.

But he doesn't stop. With every stroke of your waist against his, Eddie is there to meet your ministrations. He's watching you. You can feel his eyes tracing over your flesh even with yours closed. The bounce of your breasts, the ripple of your pillowy stomach, Eddie takes in it all.

"That's right. Say my name, baby." The pink of his tongue lashes out to dart over his thumb before he drags the digit down your center.

The second he starts — the quick, gentle motion of his thumb soon growing frantic — it's the beginning of the end.

The swollen tip of his cock nudges its way to that spot deep inside of you that shuts your brain right off. Only he knows how to find it, and he's so fucking good at finding it. Once there, a salacious grin spreads across Eddie's face.

"Right fucking there, baby." He praises you, hands heavy on your hips, weighing you down so you can't move.

You're stuffed full of him, spread open around his thick length and dripping down the base. The receptors in your brain are firing at all cylinders and you've never felt this fucking euphoric before.

Until he grinds up into you.

Your orgasm hits you all at once, without warning. It washes over your entirety and has you begging him for both more and less simultaneously. And Eddie has never been one to give you less.

He feeds you his cock, thrusting up into your sopping cunt now, the van around you shaking in time with your depravity. It's all happening in passing, at the very back of your mind. All you can focus on is the constellations exploding in your vision as Eddie's pathetic little grunts morph into wanton moans of satisfaction.

A few spent moments later, you can feel your joint release leaking out of you. Eddie lays back on the floor of his van with his hands above his head, skin shimmering with the reflection of drying sweat off of yellow floodlights.

It truly is the perfect Valentine's Day. Now that you can think clearly, maybe your shift wasn't all that bad.

With his eyes still closed, Eddie reaches for the joint he'd left in his pants pocket for safekeeping. He lights it while on his back and takes two deep hits before passing it to you. The radio near the back door plays quietly in the background. You don't know what song is on. Boss had you playing Hounds of Love by Kate Bush all day on repeat.

But Eddie seems to know the tune.

He jerks up in his seat, hand wrapping quickly behind your back so that you aren't knocked off of him.

"Hey!" You shout, trying to keep the ruby red tip of the joint away from his beautiful hair.

"Shush," he slaps the volume dial on the radio, knocking it up more than enough notches. "This song is about us!"

Josie's on a vacation far away, come around and talk it over. So many things that I wanna say.

Eddie strums an air guitar behind your back and his eyes pop open wide as he sing-screams the next lyrics.

"YOU KNOW I LIKE MY GIRLS A LITTLE BIT OLDER!"

Your eyes roll back as you exhale the smoke from your lungs.

He'll never let those six months you were alive before him go.

[cybersodas]

Restock coming soon!

That's right- after nearly two months of waiting, I will be restocking the Splatoon 3 pride chips this Tuesday (July 2nd) at 12 P.M. CDT! Mark your calendars if you want to fill your pallets with the full spectrum of pride, or you can subscribe to my store newsletter to be notified when restocks drop! (link to the form is in my pinned post)

And as always, ✦ thanks for stopping by the Cybersoda Shop!!! ✦

(Reblogs are heavily appreciated)