white converse, g-easy, starbucks, low waisted jean shorts
take me back🩷
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album cover art for G-Easy & Halsey : Him and i
by Rockswell
https://www.behance.net/vonfreter
https://www.rockswell.net
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See, that's my down bitch, see that's my soldier
She keeps that thang-thang if anyone goes there
Calm and collected, she keeps her composure
And she gon' ride for me until this thing over
We do drugs together (together), fuck up clubs together (together)
And we'd both go crazy (crazy) if we was to sever
You know? We keep mobbin', it's just me and my bitch
Fuck the world, we just gon' keep getting rich, you know?
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previously on "toshidou's horny rambles":
𝟏𝟖+ 𝐍𝐒𝐅𝐖
your jaw is aching, just barely able to feel simon's fingers as they curl around a fistful of your hair, the other hand pinching either side of your face between his thumb and forefinger to watch how your lips purse around the girth of his cock. lidded, darkened eyes staring down at you as he fucks lazily into your mouth; the slick sound of spit accompanied by the slap of his balls against your chin, wet with your saliva and precum.
and if that wasn't overstimulating in of itself, thick, strong fingers indent into the flesh of your hips, followed by the aching thud of könig's sharp hips jackhammering into the soft flesh of your ass, a cacophony of lewd, debauched sounds that shouldn't make you nearly as wet as they do.
you have little choice but to focus on trying to stay balanced on your hands and knees and take it, every forceful thrust, every notch of ghost's tip against the back of your throat, every delirium inducing drag of könig's cock, so thick it has no choice but to stimulate every nerve ending your poor cunt has to offer.
there is no holding back, no small mercies, you're fucked to within an inch of your life, pushed through so many orgasms you barely remember what year it is, unable to think of anything other than the two men that bookend your trembling body.
by the time their hips both stutter to a stop, once their cum dribbles down in flithy rivulets from your aching holes, plump flesh littered with bite marks, bruises and handprints; you're just lucid enough to make out the two men as they tower above you, twin sets of irises engulfed in black, still hungry, still not satiated.
it's fair to say you may have "voulez-vous coucher avec moi, ce soir"ed a little too close to the sun.
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The first thing I noticed was the bodies of Spider-people the Spot has either killed or exhausted. You can even see Spider-Plushie in the left-hand corner was a casualty.
Then we see a few frames of Miles fighting the Spot, which I feel is self-explanatory.
But then we get into the interesting part of the vision with Inspector Singh saving the little girl in the red dress, and while we're told these events are of the future. What we see with Jefferson saving the child wouldn't be the first time the Spot's visions show past events, i.e. when he reveals his origins.
I say this because I don't think the vision of Jefferson saving the little boy who is also wearing a red (Spider-man) top - the only time we see colour besides black and white in this scene - is foreshadowing the future.
Because this is the past. And what we're seeing is E-42 Jefferson saving Miles G Morales as a child.
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Recycling an old scenery piece I made a while ago and making it sanders sides related
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“Oh- Hello little guy! Are you a borrower? Do-“
“No, you gotta listen to me, I’m a normal sized person who’s been shrunk and I need help.”
“Oh my god, yeah, of course. What do you need?”
“I’m too fucking small to hit my elfbar and it’s been two hours without nicotine and I’m losing my goddamn mind, man.”
“Ah. I see. Okay, you’re going into the Cold Turkey Shoebox.”
“What? Wait-“
“You’ll be fine. I’ve helped plenty of shrunken ones quit the nic. You’re gonna feel so much better, dude.”
“NO PLEASE, I NEED MY BLUE RAZZ ICE, YOU CAN’T DO THIS TO M-“
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