#animals doll

[anyaboz]

Dorra Dump

[crimezi]

end an argument for me

and for the sake of my data add your region/country, reblogs would help for proving my bias wrong

[guillotin3d]

[celesse]

Forgotten friends 🍥X🧿 🪡🧵

Dolls in the Attic, the fifth prompt for Drawtober!

[strangledplanet]

[dabisbratz]

𝒟𝒪𝐿𝐿 𝒫𝒜𝑅𝒯𝒮 — satoru gojo x male reader !

femboy!reader , bottom/reader , established relationship , fingering , cismale terminology / anatomy , praise , spit / saliva , toru fantasizin 4 1k words straight , dirty - talk , slut calling , not proof - read

w.c; ~1.2k

. . . sonny says: has been a while ૮ ྀི◞͈ ˔ ◟͈ ྀིა s’is nothin special, n mkinda embarrassed t’make it my comeback post but . . . wanted t’actually post somethin. miss writin s’bad !! so hopefully some smaller drabbles/ficlets can tide y’over in this tryin time ໒꒰ྀི •̩̩̩̩＿•̩̩̩̩ ꒱ྀིა n e way, s’is from a veryvery old request, just tweaked a lil bit !! to da anon who wanted toru n his femboy boyfie. . msorry for da wait !! here it is :p

Satoru considers himself a simple man. He has simple plans, simple aspirations . . . simple goals. achievable, even, considering who he is. Though there’s nothing simple about the curl of his white eyelashes, nor the shade of his almost translucent eyes, that’s simply how he’d describe himself.

And although the rest of the world considers him anything but— an anomaly, of sorts— he still partakes in substantially simple pleasures. Ice cream, candies, chocolates, cakes. . . A night on the town, sightseeing, a good round of much needed sleep.

You.

But that’s where the lines begin to blur, because you are far from simple. Complex, layered— the man took his time to flesh out the real you. Just when he thought he’d had you figured out, there was something new he learned about you. Blamed it on his own biases, a close minded way of thinking, when he took a glance at you and assumed. But that was before, back when he was naive and stupid, when others mistook his youthful piloting for recklessness. He supposed he’d done the same, up until he met you.

Simplicity doesn’t suit you. Not your features, which curve and twist and turn, soft edges and sharp corners, pretty eyes and even prettier lips. Facial harmony that puts Satoru at ease— no, it’s you in your entirety. He felt it when he met you, he feels it now. He's sure he’ll feel it when he’s six feet underground, and all that’s left of him is an empty echo of simple assumptions and stories, a distant memory of you.

It doesn’t suit you at all. He decides you’re much too pretty. There’s an otherworldly quality in your essence that draws him in from miles away. It’s in your cadence when you speak, the sway of your shoulders when you walk, the way air flows behind you when you walk by. His pretty, pretty boy. Nothing simple about it, except maybe the way his body reacts.

Oh, well.

It’s like whiplash, when he sees you. Just when he thought he had you all figured out, here you are. He's never seen you like this before. He's seen you in all sorts of ways, sure— a cocky smirk on your lips, or perhaps a frown instead. Tears in your eyes from pain, on some occasions, pleasure. Your eyebrows pinched with confusion, or even furrowed with rage. But this… this. Is different. You, his boyfriend, in a skirt. It’s different. And he wants to touch.

𝜗𝜚

He’d start at your thighs, of course. How could he not? Patience is a virtue, one Satoru does not hold himself up to. His big, strong hands run along the expanse of your legs, groping and squeezing and holding just right. Tight enough to watch the skin bulge and spill between his fingers, for his fingertips to dig into the flesh until he knows they’ll inevitably bruise later, creeping his hands up, up, up. . .

“All this for lil’ ol’ me?” He’d say, charming as ever as he glances up at you, already knowing the answer. But he’d disregard it anyway, until his fingertips trail along the neatly sewn hem of the skirt, your skirt.

“What is this, silk? Cotton?” He’d feel blood pump through his fingers, just like he knows it’d rush through your inner thighs, spreading goosebumps along your skin as he absentmindedly rubs. Traveling further in, until your pretty cock plumps up beneath his palms, grazing his knuckles until he can feel each twitch and throb of the leaking tip. You’ve always been so eager, so sweet on him in that sense, all twitches and aches.

Thighs trembling under the weight of his palms, he’d see it all. When your cock jumps as he fans his warm breath over the fabric. when a wet, sticky patch of precum soaks through it. He’d frown when he sees shorts, built into the skirt, but it’d twitch when he remembers what’s beneath. Tugging the material down your hips, his hands pausing to squeeze and caress the soft skin of your ass, kneading until he can’t take it anymore— ripping the fabric open with his bare hands—pulling the plumpness of your ass apart until he can feel your pretty little hole winking back at him— so hungry, so desperate to be used. He’d watch.

You’d take it so well, you always do. That’s one thing he knows as a fact, because when you’re around Satoru, it seems as though none of your thoughts are coherent, and all you want to do is take it. He'd rub slow, smooth circles into the globes of your ass, looking down at the emptiness of your winking hole, shiny and inviting and clenching around nothing but air.

“So pretty,” He’d murmur, hushed and close to the warmth of your skin as he pressed his face against the backs of your thighs. His long fingers slipping dangerously close to your entrance, sliding along the puckered rim and dipping the pads of his fingertips along the opening of your pretty little hole. His fingers would feel so big, so long, when he circles them along the ring of muscle, barely breaching the tiny gape he plans to make. Slick with his spit— when did he do that?— saliva sticky and wet between each mound, glistening, he’d work a finger inside, groaning, “Only ‘Toru’s fingers can keep my greedy little hole happy, isn’t that right?”

You’d feel his teeth graze your skin, a wide smile on his face as he feels you process his words. Calling your holes his— like they belong to him and him only. It’s true, and he knows you’d nod— you’ve always been a good boy about that, even if it’s not the type of verbal confirmation he’s looking for. Still, his smile would drop as fast as it arrived, his finger pushing to the first knuckle and curling just right, punching the air from your lungs and pushing stars into your eyes as you gasp.

“Isn’t that right?” He’d repeat himself, much more firm, just to watch you struggle and squirm to find the words, to say something other than a stream of incoherent, slutty babbles for cock.

“Mhmm..!” You’d whine, lips parted as you reached back to spread yourself wide, enveloping his free hand with the warmth of your palm. You wouldn’t miss the appreciative hum you earn in response, deep and husky as his fingers slip right in, past the burning stretch of your fluttering rim, past the slippery surface of your hole as it sucked his fingers deeper and deeper into your gummy walls. “Yours, ‘Toru.. give it t’me..”

“Pretty hole on you too,” Silky and smooth, warm and wet like he’d imagined it in the late hours he’d spent fucking his fist. “You even knows what you’re beggin’ for?” He’d watch his spit gush and trickle out between his fingers with each twist and movement of the digits. “You’re gonna take it for me like a good boy, right? Keep these hips still while I fuck my pretty boy full of my fingers? Make you all whiny and needy?”

The squelch your hole, the way your body tightened as you whimpered like a slut for it. Pretty face ruined with delirious tears, pretty hole sopping and sloppy— fucked out and used from his fingers alone. Pretty skirt left in ruins, streaked in patches of your precum and drool.

Fuck.

𝜗𝜚

“You look good,” Is all he says instead, irises boring into the pleated fabric that wrinkles and rustles with every movement you make. Satoru’s cock twitches in his sweats, a deep imprint of the head straining against his thigh. His voice comes out as some sort of soft, dreamy sound, low in his throat but high in the air as you look at him, almost uncertain. “Twirl for me?”

[scipunk]

Weird Science (1985)

[webdiggerxxx]

꧁★꧂

[a-titty-ninja]

[catsauceeartofficial]

I can't believe I got invested in a bunch of stick figures. Anyway, go watch Alan Becker's stick figure animations.

You can already tell which ones are my favourite

[special-boi]

special request ai art by @special-boi

[anyaboz]

Who is that white specter who greets me with hollow black eyes and toothy grin? Do not fear dear wanderer, those sharp teeth tear only roots, and those dark eyes see only shadows. The dorra is not concerned with the living.

Ghost Dorra Room Guardian

Available this Sunday Nov 13 at 12 pm EST in my shop!

See how it's made on my Patreon.

[v6que]

[spookberry]

overwhelmed with love for Sunny Madison so i had to draw her 6 times

[nivsthirdeye]

pink is taking over my life! ୧ ‧₊˚ 🍮 ⋅ ☆

[pepperspoppies]

Cinnamoroll Sayclub gifs (Part 2)