#or for spelling mistakes

[heavyheavycream]

feedist kinktober 27 : boozy belly

this was one of the first things i wrote about em. i'm not the best at writing dialogues so i hope it's not to clunky, enjoy!

[fox-and-the-hound]

What if Rainbow Dash and Fluttershy swapped cutie-marks, but their personalities stayed the same?

[aubeezz]

[theaceofarrows]

Gotham citizen memes

[slightly-sad-sloth]

Damian’s prosthetic spine is my Roman Empire

COMMS OPEN

Text ver. of the handwriting under cut in case it's hard to read

Comic; page 1

Panel 1 -

(Halfway up a skyscraper)

Damian: X-ray vision.

Jon: would it kill you to say please?

Panel 2 -

Damian: Does baby need to be coddled?

(Bomb)

Panel 5-

(whole ass metal spine)

Panel 6 -

(pamphlet saying 'childhood scoliosis spinal implants. Titanium rod')

Jon: Man, your scoliosis must've been bad, huh?

Comic; Page 2

Panel 3 -

Jon: it's the red one by the way

Panel 4 -

Jon: Wanna swing by mine for leftover pie after?

Damian: sure.

Sketches;

Page 1:

Headcanons.

Cracks back like old man

Has to do regular back exercises

Page 2:

Headcanon 2

Rubs back of neck/where chip was when upset

(I know he wouldn't have a scar, but consider scars are cool)

Page 3:

Banner: Paralysed by a colourful serial killer club

Barbara: Joker. You?

Damian: ... Flamingo

The dynamic

At heart, a good person

Just enough of a bastard to be worth knowing

[gglinaa]

a small self-indulgent comic about jim suddenly growing wings and spock being drawn to them

[mud-muffin]

Tea time with your future little sister 😌

[thisnoah]

"You treat your mouth as if it's Heaven's gate"

[Too Sweet by Hozier]

[21cha]

Little sunset duo comic I really wanted to make because you know, Mikey deserves Raph's praise and recognition as much as Leo does (honestly, they all do). Given their relationship and Raph's habit of babying Mikey, I think he'd be proud of his little brother for what he accomplished on Staten Island.

(Also, I know Raph is a leftie, but for the sake of this comic let's all just pretend he's ambidextrous okay)

[chiptrillino]

ID: Zuko on the left and sokka on the right. From avatar, the last air bender from the waist up and aged up. They have their back turned to the viewer and are facing each other so only their profile is visible. They are looking lovingly into each other's eyes. sokka is resting his left arm on zukos shoulder, holding zukos jaw. His index fingers brushing underneath a cut up hair strand. zuko holds with his right hand on sokkas back. His left hand is placed over sokkas wrist, holding a bracelet made out of zukos cut off hair between his two fingers. End ID

i regrett not making zukos robe seethrough again. but... uhm.... i didn't mean to make this complicated again?

----- if you want to deal with all my reblogs may I direct your attention to my side only my artworks blog?

@chiptrillino-art

[nokikissa]

Couple low quality Darrell gifs I made for funsies :3

[seraphont]

[thunderc1an]

how to love a stranger

[a-scary-lack-of-common-sense]

Continuation to This Post :]

------

It was always so strange to hear adults argue.

Grown up fights never seemed quite the same as the trivial spats her and Dipper sometimes had. They were similar in some aspects, yes; Adults and children weren't as different as people liked to think. Mabel had seen adults verbally lash at one another with vicious words just as low hanging and petty as the ones she'd sometimes see kids the same age as her use. Adults arguing was essentially just a louder, angrier version of children fights.

And yet, there was somehow... more to it. Grown up arguments always seemed to weigh so much heavier in the air, and for so much longer than she'd ever thought possible.

Sometimes, the weight would leave quick and early, practically gone by the next morning. However, occasionally, the weight would stay; and grow heavier, and heavier over the years. Until it came to a point when the weight was nothing but a choking, stifling presence that seemed to fill every room in the house and buzz deafeningly in your ears like an unpleasant static that made your head pound.

Then, one day, the pressure would burst with a loud yell, a slam, and a bang, and start building up all over again. It was a cycle Mabel was much familiar with.

Her Grunkle Ford's "Mystery Shack" didn't have that air.

The shack's air smelled like burnt out candles and cheap discount Halloween fake blood, with a hint of real blood underneath the stinging scent of old wood and aged parchment. It wasn't necessarily a very nice air, certainly not in any way the fresh, crisp, clean air of the streets of Piedmont, but it smelled more like home than she'd ever felt back in California. It just smelled like... Grunkle Ford.

She liked her Grunkle Ford. He was super weird; with an even weirder Uncle as his roommate. He checked her and Dipper's arms and legs every morning "just in case someone broke in at night to steal a sample of their bloods"; he despised overly sweet foods (baffling, truly); and he had exactly 27 locks installed on the front and back door respectively that he could unlock all in under a minute with his really fast extra fingers. He reminded her a little of Dipper on some occasions, no matter how much the latter liked to deny the similarities (although, bar the demonic obssession).

However, last night, the air suddenly grew heavy.

Grunkle Ford had a fight.

Mabel hadn't heard it, and she hadn't seen it, but she knew there had been one. She was an expert recognizing the signs; she could always tell.

When she had awoken that late morning, the stuffy summer air had taken an even more sour note than usual, and had become a touch heavier than it should have been. Either that meant Grunkle Ford had just recently finished up a ritual, or a particularly rowdy argument had taken place; and Mabel knew that Grunkle Ford only performed his rituals between 2 to 4 AM, when he thought the twins were well asleep.

It was strange, to feel that same heavy air push down upon her temples and pound that same painful rhythm of a mounting headache as it used to do so often back when Mabel was in California. It had already happened a few times at the shack, but this one felt... heavier, than usual. She didn't think she would have to encounter the discomforting weight again this summer, away from her parents. Yet here she was. Aching.

She knew Gunkle Ford and Uncle Bill fought and bantered. With Bill being a permanent resident trapped within her Grunkle's mind, she couldn't imagine how they wouldn't. She didn't think even she could keep her cool if she had Uncle Bill as her brain roommate 24/7.

In any case, their interactions in front of the twins were mostly a mixture of exasperated resignation, or irritated tolerance, mostly from Grunkle Ford. Their occasional volleying exchanges of vitriol doused insults and words were short lived, and brief most of the time, especially when in front of the kids. They were nothing like the long, loud ones that could go on for hours back at her house in Piedmont.

Even so, there were some times when Mabel would see Grunkle Ford late in the evening, red faced and tight fisted, stomping down to the basement and disappearing into his lab there with a deafening slam of the rickety wooden door. She recognized that slam. He didn't want the twins to hear the argument.

Even if they could hear anything, what little they could glean always seemed to be only side of the argument, with Grunkle Ford yelling curses at Uncle Bill inside his head. She always did wonder what happened inside Grunkle Ford's head. Although, she wasn't sure if she wanted to know the answer. She couldn't imagine the state of the mind of someone who sometimes forgot to eat or sleep for almost a full week until someone reminded him.

The entire day passed with that same, tense air choking the atmosphere. Dipper had dragged Mabel and himself to some adventure in the forest, but it seemed to her that he was just trying to find excuses to stay out of the shack for the time being. Even he seemed to feel the unnerving heaviness of the air.

That night, underneath her sheets, Mabel pulled out the worn and well used wooden art mannequins Dipper and Grunkle Ford seemed to keen on using to summon Bill rather than their own shadows. With her trusty golden glitter pen (that she knew Uncle Bill loved despite what he claimed), she gently drew a closed eye upon the blank wooden face of the little model.

The eye opened, and she spoke:

[sunsburns]

Okay I sorta think Logan is capable of knotting. Something people don’t know is his connection with animals, and allowing him to somewhat communicate with creatures. And we all know he has a great sense of smell. Anyway please humor me 😭😭😭 we know he’s half animal half man in the streets and in the sheets.

(Also when he was charging at Deadpool on all fours… yeah he’s in touch with his primal, animal side)

good fucking god. i literally had to search this up. for those of you who don't know, the term "knotting" is based on real wolf (and dog) biology where their... yk... swells up after an orgasm and basically locks them into place inside their partner. this is about to get freakkyy (18+)

logan stays hovering over you when it happens. his hot breath blowing against your skin and you breathe in every exhale. noses brush over each other, and you bring your hands up to caress his face, your thumb pushing at the deep furrow between his brows.

he grumbles, eyes still closed, unwilling to move.

you let him stay, let him slowly collapse against you, the warmth from his body rolling off in waves until he's pressed against you. chest to chest, logan brings his mouth to the crock of your neck.

you feel his hips still twitching, pelvis rolling against yours, coaxing a low, tired moan out of you. you feel so full, his bulge in your stomach, the space where the two of you meet wet and sticky, but he doesn't move.

"logan," you sigh, breathless with his weight on you. "lo..."

"hmm?"

"are you gonna...?"

"what?"

"move?"

"...i can't."

"what?" you shift, trying to sit up, but he doesn't let you. logan wraps his arms around your middle, holding you tight. his touch is gentle, possessive, and protective and he kisses the hot skin of your neck tenderly.

"can we just stay 'ere for a bit? i wanna stay close to you," his words are slurred and muffled the more he buries his face into your skin, the hair of his beard tickling you.

that's when you feel it, his cock, still deep inside you, growing. not the same way it does when he gets hard, but rather swelling, increasing in girth, pressing against your walls, stretching against them.

logan runs his warm hand up and down your sides, hoping to ease you to the feeling when a choked noise slips past your lips. "that's it. just relax, bub."

[za0mbie]

He's the last neighbor I could imagine in a hooplah ad but that just made the idea funnier🚬🌈