#clears his throat

[safyresky]

Scrimbly Jacqueline 29/52: adult supervision does NOT go according to plan...

✨🧪🔥😴💚🧡✨

"Right. Okay. So. Let me get this straight." Jacqueline took a brief, long deep breath in. "You think you've finally managed to perfect your sleeping elixir and Ken's going to test it for you."

"Yep."

"That about sums it up, yes."

"And you decided it'd be best to have an adult on hand, despite both of you being adults."

"I mean...is nineteen hundred really adulty?"

"YES."

"I dunno, Jacqueline. I don't feel very adulty. Ken's way more mature than me."

"Not nearly as such."

"You're too hard on yourself, dude! You're super mature."

Ken blushed. "Oh! Well. Thank you, Fino."

Fino grinned. "Of course!"

"Right. Okay. So you both decided an adult would be wise, despite being mature," she enunciated the T, her voice popping up an octave. "but are still going through with this despite, y'know, all the red flags."

"Yep!"

"Correct."

"And you can't like, test it on like, a mote, because?"

"Motes have a very different physiology from magibeans, Jacqueline."

"And it already works on them! So Ken said he'd give it a try!"

"Us orcs have very high constitution, after all."

"It's true! I've seen him nearly poison himself four times this week alone and seventy-five percent of the time he had zero side effects! Didn't even know he'd ingested poison! The worst thing that happened was a gnarly case of diarr—"

"We don't need to give your sister all the details."

"He's just being a supportive partner!"

"I know how much it means to you to master all facets of magic. I can make sacrifices."

"Right. So. Why me? Why not Mom or Dad? Jack? Lucy?! I mean, she's a MEDICAL PROFESSIONAL, Fino."

"Yeah, and would probably tell us to not do this."

"Debatable. Woman loves her science. She'd MAYBE protest in case, you know, the side effect to sleeping potion is DEATH. But she'd probably stay on site and be able to, y'know, HEAL you BOTH if anything untoward happened."

Fino squinted. "You turn more into mom every day."

"I can't tell if that's an insult or a compliment."

"Just an observation."

"Compliment," Ken clarified.

"Right. Okay. So you decided, quite idiotically, that Lucy was a no. Mom and Dad?"

"Didn't want them to worry!"

"Jack?!"

"Didn't feel right!"

"So you settled on me."

"Yeah! I dunno, I guess I just thought, y'know, out of all the more adulty adults in my life that aren't Ken—"

"We're the same age, Fino."

"Yeah, but maturity! Anyway, the niblets do crazier things—"

"—goddess above, don't remind me."

"So I figured that for something like this, you'd be ideal! You've got the experience, Jacqueline. So? What do you say?"

Fino grinned. His eyes got very, very big and for a brief moment Jacqueline was reminded of when he was much littler and asking for her to pretty please keep the cat, he really likes your room—

She sighed. Rubbed a spot on her temple. "Okay. Fine. But I do NOT approve."

"Don't even worry about it, Jacqueline!"

"There's a very good chance it doesn't work on magibeans yet, after all. Potions and witchcraft aren't Fino's strong suit."

"A fact you will never let me live down," Fino teased, scooping the sunset reminiscent liquid out of the cauldron and pouring it into an uncorked jar. He swirled it; the pinks and oranges gave way to purples and blues, the mixture sparkling.

"I got the colouration right! Yes!"

"Hmm. Perhaps I stand corrected. Well, bottoms up, eh Fin?" Ken took the flask from Fino, lifted it into the air, and chugged it in one go. Placing it down on the counter, he swallowed the last droplet, smacking his lips. "Tastes like gobstoppers."

"Unexpected but delightful result! And how are you feeling?"

Ken licked his lips. "Fine for the most part, though my tusks are a little bit tingly—" his eyes snapped shut and he fell down, face hitting the corner of the island as he plummeted to the floor and landed on his knees, tilting forward until his chin landed on the dirt floor, arms alongside him, ass in the air.

Jacqueline gasped, gently stepping back. Fino lifted the flask. He flushed, looked down at his partner, then up at Jacqueline through the empty vial. He chuckled, embarrassed, and scratched the back of his neck, his fiery locks warm on his skin.

"So, uh. Heh. I guess it worked?"

Ken began to snore.

"Yeah! Maybe a little too well!"

Ken snored louder, the dishes in the sink behind them rattling gently.

"That's probably not a comfortable sleeping position."

"Not unless you're like, five."

"I have a levitation spell for this—"

"Absolutely not! I think he's had MORE than enough magic for the day. I'm calling Donnie. She can lift him easy."

Fino placed the flask down and cleared his throat. "Good call."

✨🧪🔥😴💚🧡✨

hehehe huehuehue hahaha. Meet orc friend! And 1900 year old ish Fino, FULLY REALIZED! And the RETURN of MILF JACQUELINE. FEATURING STOCKING GARTERS. She's only getting Milfier, guys.

Anyway I love Orc Friend (Kenothy, aka, Ken,) sooo much you guys. You don't even KNOW. Today I decided he has the most luscious, wavy, L'Oreal shampoo commercial hair. One day I'll draw him in cleaned UP scrimbly format! But for now, BEHOLD! A BUTT.

Design Notes:

I really did give Fino a goddamn mullet. He's working it.

He alternates between vest and no vest. Since he's at home practising potions, it's a no vest day. This is deffs NOT code for "I forgot he wears a lil vest sometimes. a lil waistcoat, if you will"

Milfline's bun is poofier because it is closer to the end of the day. That thing is five seconds from pulling a Mrs. Claus up-do explosion, and Ken being KO'd by a sleeping potion certainly doesn't help!

K and I were talking about garters and stays and such today and adding them to Jacqueline's fit hit me so hard my desk chair wheeled back on me! More on this next week.

I got a really cool pair of boots in Dreamlight Valley and if I don't adapt them to Milfline I may die about it, more on that next week too!

I RIPPED the PAPER bc I originally had Ken drawn like. Across the page? But I was picturing him butt in the air the way kids pass out. I got home from work, looked at it, and went no wait. this is how it should be doodled, and voila! Orc Friend Butt

Orc Friend Deets, if you're curiouse :3 (under the read more)

Post Colouring Thoughts:

I forgot how. In theory. Fino's patterned dress shirts and rainbow lined cloak are cool as FUCK. But in PRACTISE. Make him look like a bowling alley carpet.

You know what tho? It matches the mullet >:)

Which I am wildly proud of tbh!

Decided that orc friend DOES dress fancy! hence the (matching) green coat with golden buttons >:3

His hair is SO luscious and I put the gold in just to see the lines bc after I coloured it it didn't really show, but now I'm like. idk! I kinda like it!

His right hand got eaten? I sketched it. And now it is gone. I think it's under all that hair.

He also has a BUTT TON of earrings, ya girl just got sleeby and forgot to add them in! But he has like. 5 on each ear and one of the earrings is two studs linked by a chain bc it's NEAT

Maybe I'll do like a proper scrimble of him! I really like Orc Friend you guys :3

[platoapproved]

louis + cruelty

[starry-bi-sky]

No.

No, no, no, no, NO!

He's shaking. His heart is burning in his chest, pounding like a jackhammer against his ribs, and there's a trembling, aching rage building beneath his tongue and pressing against his teeth.

In his hands, his fingers tense and wrists locked, the article reads in big, black font: JOKER LOCKED IN ARKHAM ASYLUM AGAIN!

Danny shouldn't feel so angry about this, this is a good thing. Gotham doesn't have to deal with him for another few months at the least. He should feel relieved, a little more at peace.

He is not.

He cannot swallow the fury thudding behind his eyes, the burning white heat searing a deeper hole in his chest. A searing green filling static in his ears in the way only the rage of the restless dead can have.

How is he going to kill him now?

Arkham may be the only asylum in America made entirely of tissue paper, but it's still an asylum. There are cameras, guards, other patients resting inside. Danny can think of a million different ways to sneak in and kill Joker, but someone will hear his screaming.

It'd have to be rushed.

He doesn't want it to be rushed.

It's a cruel thought. Cruel and cold and merciless, but Danny doesn't feel an ounce of shame, not an ounce of guilt, for it. He wants to be alone with the Joker when he kills him, that's all he wants. In Arkham, you are never alone.

He forces his anger to bubble back down into his chest, stuffing it between his heartstrings and his ribs like a blanket you're trying to bunch up into a corner. It sizzles and burbles. The static begins to fade out into a high-pitched ringing; it sounds like distant screaming.

Danny is still trembling, but he can think a little clearer now.

He can wait.

He can wait. He can wait. He can wait. He canwait. Hecanwait. Hecanwait.

He can wait.

He's waited five years for this. He can wait one more week. One more month. One more year. However long it takes for the Joker to break back out, Danny can wait.

And when the Joker does, inevitably, break out.

Danny uncrinkles his fingers around the edges of the newspaper, loosens his limbs just enough so he can pay for it.

He'll be waiting.

The dead, after all, have all the time in the world.

[gojoest]

satoru is all smiles and giggles during your first date and you think that guy never gets worried or nervous ever until he hugs you goodbye in front of your doorstep and you can feel his heart beating so fast and with such intensity it feels like it’s punching a hole through you

[jcams88]

Buzzfeed really said We are going directly for the throat with this one, huh

[thegnomelord]

Locker-room jokes

CW:NSFW MDNI, FTM reader and Gaz, frotting, oral, first times, masc terms (cock, cocklet, bottom growth) this is based off a post I saw somewhere and a talk I had with @embry-garrick . Author isn't trans so tell me if this sucks lol

Guys comparing dick sizes in the locker room is a joke as old as time. You'd never considered entertaining it as it always came off stupid to you. . . yet here you are.

The locker room is thankfully empty except for you and Gaz, the silence buzzing beneath your skin and leaving you awkwardly shifting your weight from one leg to the other. It's not like you two haven't seen each other naked before, God knows some of the communal showers on different bases were little bigger than shoe boxes, but the expectation to do more than just catch a glimpse — that makes you feel naked.

Agreeing to this had been easy, but now that it came time to put your words were your mouth was you realize you were too arrogant; You can't quite make yourself meet Gaz's gaze, eyes flickering from his face to the darkened lines beneath his pecks, to the sparce trail of body hair that disappears down beneath the towel wrapped around his hips before returning to his face, your cheeks burning.

"Oh, is someone nervous?" Gaz shows you mercy by sauntering closer, gun calloused hands finding their place on your hips and thumbs slipping beneath the towel's hem. "Scared you're not going to be able to rise to the occasion?" His voice has a teasing lilt to it as he snickers at his own words.

You open your mouth to speak but you're forced to bite your tongue when Kyle presses against you, chest to chest and skin to skin. He tilts his head back, your noses brushing together. "You know," His lips brush against yours, just a ghost and a promise something more should you listen to him. "You could just quit while you're ahead and save yourself the embarrassment."

Even the miniscule sensation of his lips on yours leaves your body wanting more, your ribs aching to be wrenched open so he can hold your heart in his hands. Damn tempter.

You ignore your body's wants, the knowledge of him testing you making something burn in your chest. "In your dreams." You repeat the same words that got you into this mess, the words that awakened his competitive streak.

You mimic him by gripping his hips and clutching the towel barely hanging around him. But there's a small tremor in your hands, anxiety nibbling on your nerves — You're treading new ground, the furthest you two ever got was drunken make out sessions and heavy groping in bathrooms or broom closets or Price's office that one time.

Kyle doesn't mention the tremble, your actions earning yourself a pleased grin from him. "Ooh, aren't you arrogant." Which is good; it wouldn't be fun if you were a wet rag about it. Kyle's fingers shift to skirt across your sides before gripping your towel tighter. "Tell you what, we take them off together, yeah?"

"Aren't you thoughtful." Your words make him grin, but you nod your head. "Fine—" You grip his towel, the muscles in your arm tensing. "One, two, three-"

You barely manage to say the last number before Kyle yanks the towel off your hips and tosses it carelessly on the nearby bench. You scramble to do the same, your hands suddenly your mortal enemies as you stumble around a bit while you feel his eyes on you before you manage to take his towel off.

Gaz knows he looks good, he's proud of his body, but the way your eyes travel across his frame — from his face to his chest, following the happy trail of sparce hair down his abdomen to his groin where the neatly trimmed pubic hair accentuates the length of his bottom growth— has blood rushing to his cock, has him feeling high as a kite.

He looks you over up and down, both to see your embarrassment grown and because he's pleased by what he sees. His eyes settles to your groin where a bush of hair partly obscures your own bottom growth, glancing between you and himself. "I reckon I'm bigger."

Something about the way he says it, like he's a jaguar that just caught a cayman, sparks something inside you. "Only because you're smooth as a baby's ass." You growl and push a hand between your bodies, trapping your cock between two fingers and spreading them slightly so it's fully on display. "I'm bigger." You can't help but press a chaste kiss on the tip of his nose, some of your arrogance coming back.

Kyle tries not to, but a pleased noise escapes his throat — you're definitely bigger, at least half an inch if not more. He's not willing to admit defeat that quickly, but fuck, the change in your attitude is a major turn on.

"Cheater." The accusation would be far more hurtful if he didn't press himself closer, one hand holding your shoulder, the other sliding down to hold his cocklet. "Just gotta-" But he doesn't stop there, slowly stroking the length of it between his fingers, thumb swirling across the tip. "-I'll show you big."

"Now who's cheating?" You snark, using your free hand to hold Kyle tightly so he doesn't lose his balance. You don't stop him, mesmerized by the way each languid stroke has his cock chubbing up a bit more, slick easing the glide as it glistens across his flushed flesh.

"You started it-hah!—" You pick the moment to grind your groin into his, the tip of your cocklet roughly grinding against his and forcing a small punched out noise from his lungs.

"Whoops." You grunt, pleasure starting to simmer in your veins as you grind your cock against his again. "Sorry, just needed to get the right angle." Your tone makes the lie obvious but you can't be bothered to make it sound believable, the combination of shifting of your hips and the slow movement of your hand as you stroke yourself at the same tempo as him has lightning rushing up your spine. "I'm still bigger than you."

"Bastard!" The curse morphs into a short laugh and finally into a moan that bounces off the tiled walls, his head tilting forward to place a sloppy and disorganized kiss on your cheek. Kyle pants against your skin, leaving crescent shaped bruises on your shoulder from how tightly he grips you. "Hold on, I just have to-" He moans again, rocking his hips to meet yours that has the sensitive heads of your cocklets bumping together. "-fuck- fuck- just, give me a minute it gets bigger."

"What's wrong Kyle, failing to rise to the occasion?" You have no idea how wet that smug tone of yours makes him, but with how obscenely loudly his slick squelches against his fingers, Kyle's sure you'll figure it out soon. "Here, let me help you."

It's Kyles turn to be surprised when you push him into one of the stalls, his back meeting the cold tiles of the shower. "What are you planning?" He grunts, a yelp escaping him when you suddenly grab his thighs, picking up and bending him nearly in half until your head's cradled between his thighs and his cock's inches away from your mouth. The years of gymnastics makes the position possible, the numb pain of muscles deep in his back stretching making the pleasure so much sharper.

You blow cold air across his sensitive cocklet, watching it twitch with need. "Relax, just getting a better look." The way his thighs shake when you lick a slow stripe up his cock has your mind buzzing, the needy sound that breaks past his lips sweet as honey to your ears. "I'm gonna help you get as big as you can." It's hard to look away from his cock but you force yourself to look up at Gaz, resting his cocklet against your lips. "It's only fair."

"You-" Whatever he wanted to say next is cut off when you take his entire cock in your mouth, resting it on your tongue for a few moments before you suck. "-oh fuck!" His hands scramble to find purchase on your shoulders, gripping your hair as he hunches over, his mouth right next to your ear so you can head a moan leave him — deep and low and so desperate.

It makes you want to pull more of those sounds out of him. And you do — sloppily slurping on his cocklet for a few seconds only to pull off to lick it, alternating between slow strong swipes of your tongue across his entire shaft to small kitten licks on his tip. Occasionally you pull off entirely to blow cold air across it, keeping him teetering on that edge of pleasure, silencing the sounds of discontent with a few swipes near his hole before taking all of him into your mouth to repeat the cycle.

You don't know what's more intoxicating; You feel yourself grow drunk off the slightly sweet and musky taste of his slick that runs down your chin, the image of his abdominal muscles fluttering and thighs shaking from the building pleasure in his belly burned into your mind, Kyles babbles of "Yeah, like th- fuck, fuck, fuck- that- pleas-hah—" and calls of your name broken by moans and whimpers like the song of angels.

You feel him get closer to the edge, or at least you assume so by the way the grinding of his hips into your face grows erratic, your name being the only word that still clings to his brain as he chants it like a mantra, his fingers shaking from how tightly he grips your shoulders.

Kyle makes a sound like a wounded animal when you suddenly pull off, "-no-no-nono!" He cries, hips still bucking into the air with the need to tumble over the edge of pleasure, tears staining his cheeks as he manages to force out a weak glare. "Wh- why w-gh!- why?"

"We still have to compare." Your voice is rough like you'd been gurgling shards of glass, holding him steady as you lower him enough to wrap his legs around your waist, pressing your bodies together until you're smushing him into the wall.

He doesn't complain as the sudden move has your bottom growths rubbing against one another, and only now do you realize your body is as desperate as his. "Y- ah fuck- yeah right." There's still that fire in him, but now he uses it to grip the back of your skull and mush your lips together, ignoring the taste of himself on your lips. "Just-shit mh!- move."

Kyle's heels digging into your flank makes you rock forward, grinding your cocks together. Your slick mixes together, your pubic hair sticking to his skin and tickling the sensitive flesh of his cock with every thrust. He openly moans into your mouth, licking in and around your open mouth, trying to clean off the slick staining your skin but only making a bigger mess as spit now mixes with his juices.

Kyle feels like he's burning up, like he's just a puddle of please — the pace you set is rough and your kisses are sloppy and desperate and it feels like Heaven. Gaz wraps all four limbs around you tightly yet he still gyrates his pelvis to meet yours, every nerve in your bodies feeling like a live wire as pleasure builds and builds until it's ready to spill over.

"Fuck- Kyle-" You grunt, your fingers leaving bruises on his flesh, his back sliding up and down against the tiles as you increase your pace, every brush of his flesh against yours banging on your skull. "I'm -mhm- close."

"Mh- me too-" He slurs against your lips, kissing you until both of you are gasping for air. "please-please-please-love- make us cum, plea- ah fuck!—" Kyle shouts as his orgasm finally crashes into him, toes curling and head tilting to bite your shoulder in an attempt to silence himself as he cums, hole fluttering around nothing and cock throbbing as slick runs down his thighs.

The pain and pleasure comes for you a second later, you grip him so harshly you can feel his bones groan as you cum too, your hips grinding together to prolong the mind numbing pleasure, your teeth finding his shoulder as you bite down as well.

You don't know how the Hell you're still standing by the time you come down from your high, every muscle in your body straining like you'd just went through a suicide mission. Kyle's no better, shaking like a leaf and completely boneless in your arms, panting into your neck.

You kiss the bite mark you've left on his shoulder, gently bumping your head into his to gain his attention, "Kyle?" You ask, "Are you alright?"

"Fuuuuck lovie," Kyle groans, barely able to lift his head enough to give you a sloppy kiss on the cheek. "That was good." His fingers idly scratch your scalp, the low rasp of his fucked out voice makes your cock twitch half-heartedly but you're too worn out to get aroused again. "Remind me to blow you when I can feel my legs again."

Yeah, he's alright.

A small laugh breaks past your lips and you give him a similarly sloppy kiss. "I will." Somehow you manage to sit down on the floor, Kyle laying on top of you, as content as a spoiled cat.

"Just so you know." He whispers into your ear, his fingers slowly sliding across your sides, thumbs rubbing lazy absentminded circles into your skin. "I want a do-over of this contest." He grins, and fuck, you can't get past how handsome he looks like that. "Maybe in my room, yeah?"

You can't refuse. "Yeah."

[raviolirash]

Nothing special, of course.

[casualavocados]

…It's nice. You're so noisy. […] Actually, it'd be better if we died together. That way, neither of us would have to suffer the pain of losing the other, right? Shut up.

KISEKI: DEAR TO ME Ep. 13

[letmetellyouaboutmyfeels]

If I were Buck right now I'd put a bi and a rainbow flag with "ally" on my Instagram profile, then post a picture of me kissing Tommy on the cheek, then turn off my phone.

[devils-reign]

LOOK AT THEM ALL WITH THE PUPPPYYYY LOOK AT THEM OH MY GODDDD THIS IS GENUINELY THE CUTEST THING I’VE EVER SEEN

[nicsian]

Rewatching Double Life and hearing the absolute rage in Tango's voice when the ranch is burned down by Scar.. and then you hear Jimmy trying to calm him down with small uncertainties and soft nothings....THIS IS CINEMA

[rayroseu]

lilia and bloodshed is really good

[gojoest]

SATORU

[thejasontoddarchives]

Brothers in Blood will trick you into thinking it’s just a silly crack scenario brought to life and Jason just concocted this plan for shits and giggles. Then you get a single page like this:

Nightwing (1996-) #121

that reveals he wanted/desperately needed shreds of acceptance even if it was coated in layers of resentment irritation and doubt after going through this:

Batman (1940-) #650

And it had to be from someone who isn’t Bruce

[distracted-obsessions]

Broke: the 'damn' from Odysseus during Puppeteer is a 'yeah, she sounds hot, 10 out of 10, DTF' damn.

Woke: it's a 'wow, my men really can't keep it in their pants for five minutes' damn.

Bespoke: it's not actually about Circe at all. When we hear Circe during Puppeteer, it's actually just Eurylochus' girl voice that Odysseus has only heard stories about.

[korpuskat]

Erm. Can you please elaborate further on Ramattra being into (giving) degradation and his possible sadistic fantasies? My sub ass is screaming rn

He’s very eager to tell you how filthy you are for being attracted to him, for needing him. He could kill you at any moment, yet you’re drooling, begging for his cock? How pitiful. His broken little human pet, always wet and ready for him to play with…

For sadism, he wants… to be able to hurt you (very gently, for his standards) and know you still want him. He wants to pull your hair and hear you moan, he wants to slap your pussy and have you whine and flinch away from him, only to present yourself again a moment later.

He’s even more thrilled if you’re actually a masochist, that you’re not just enduring this for the pleasure intermixed. It’s not a challenge for him, like with some Doms, rather he’s pleased to know he can almost enjoy himself more, knowing you’re just as excited for his harshness.