#dougheyed

[fullcravings]

Peanut Butter Chocolate Cake

[nbnbd]

Are you Papa John's? Cuz I wanna get bred, and I want it cheesy

Disgusting? Unhinged? Horny? Yes. You are welcome.

I am lactose intolerant and I do not approve this message

[rottenlittlefink]

I was thinking about Moral Orel characters being Pokémon trainers and tbh Miss Censordoll would just have egg-based Pokémon 😭

[celestialwhoree]

Ex bf!Simon pt.2 - nsfw 🖤✬

Simon keeps a hand on you the whole way home, in a far grumpier mood than he was when he picked you up at the beginning of the evening, his grip that little bit tighter around you.

"You're mad." You observe, pouting up at him once you've removed your helmet, crossing your arms as you wait for him to prop his bike up on the stand. "M' not mad, poppet." Simon reassures you, fingers brushing yours when you hand back the helmet, making a conscious effort to soften his features when he catches your wide eyed gaze.

As always, he walks you to the door of your flat with a hand on the small of your back, withdrawing your keys from his pocket where you'd put them for safekeeping.

He doesn't even think when he walks in behind you, closing the door behind him and kicking off his shoes, just like he used to do back when you were still together.

"You look cold." He observes in that blunt way he always does, making you chuff. "Sorry?" You hum in response, turning to face him, rolling your eyes when you see his gaze locked unabashedly on your boobs, and the way your dress does a poor job of hiding the way your nipples have hardened on the windy trip home. "Perv." The insult rolls off your tongue easily, has him coming and grabbing you by the tops of your biceps, rubbing them with his own hands to warm you up. "Slut." He flings back just as easily. "You're making me horny." You deadpan, figuring you might as well make a joke of it. "You always were a little freak." Simon muses, distracting you as he noses at the base of your jaw, causing you to tip back your hear obediently.

You've barely even stumbled over the threshold of your bedroom when he's trying to navigate the complicated straps and clasps of your dress, grumbling to himself in the process. "You want some help there, Einstein?" You coo sarcastically as he practically herds you to your bed in the middle of the room. All it takes is a little taunting about how an experienced SAS Lieutenant can't work around some flimsy fabric and he's pushing you down under him, ripping it with his teeth. "Si!" You screech indignantly, all whilst he looks incredibly pleased with himself from where he's propped up on his forearms above you. "Y' look better with it off."

When he kisses down the dip between your boobs, one big hand coming up to knead at the doughey flesh, you're caught between a giggle and a moan, legs coming to wrap around his waist whilst he thumbs at the already damp crotch of your lacy underwear. "Already wet f'me?" He coos in that condescending way that has your thighs tightening around his broad hips. "Have been all night." You admit, feeling far less shame than you should at admitting that you still get horny from being in the same space as your ex. "Attagirl." He grunts lazily, giving you no warning when he slides a calloused hand into your panties, thumbing at your clit as though testing the waters. He can't help but grin as your back bows against the plushy mattress of your bed from the touch, the same as always.

You're already a whining mess from just his fingers alone, tummy coiled tight and face flushed in that way that he's missed so much. "Simon.." Your little needy mewls of his name have him kissing his way back up your stomach, loosely tangling his fingers with your own. "Want me to fuck you, baby?" He murmurs, genuinely wanting to make sure that you're comfortable.

He'd be perfectly happy to sit here for hours fingering and licking away at you without so much as freeing his painfully hard cock from the confines of his jeans.

"UhHuh." You babble pathetically, looking down at him with glassy eyes where he rests his chin on your hipbone, pressing appreciative little kisses there. "You sure?" He double checks, triple checks, even, just to be sure that you're happy, comfortable - always his priority. "Simon." You huff when he remains still at your waist. "Just checkin' poppet, don't want you getting all shy on me."

His dick is so hard it looks actually painful, and Simon smiles lazily as you gaze at him like the Adonis you've always seen him as. Beautiful in a way that you can't find the words to explain.

"I missed your dick." You mutter as he pumps his shaft a few times, not that he needs to considering how rock hard he is - just showing off, the cocky bastard. "Missed you too, baby." He teases back as he aligns his tip with your entrance, making you bite your lip in anticipation. He keeps one large hand at the curve of your waist as he pushes himself inside, stopping you from squirming away at the stretch, his thumb brushing soothing circles against the soft skin there. "Doin' so good. Look't you takin' me so well." He coos as you feel him bottom out, eyes squeezing shut, only opening after he sets a languorous pace with a few slow thrusts.

You only get whinier, more needy as he presses his nose below your ear, whispering praises of how perfect you are, how good you look under him.

He has you cumming at an almost embarrassing speed, needing no guidance when he hooks your knees over his shoulders, his tip rocking up against your g-spot repeatedly until he feels you squeeze around him with a little squeak that he remembers all too well.

He works you through it, getting closer to his own orgasm when you tighten around his length, gripping at the sheets and the hand he offers you as you tumble over the edge, missing the first time he asks you where you want him. "Need y' to tell me baby. Hm? Where'd you want it?" "Inside." You give a pathetically breathless whine, looking up at his furrowed brows and sweat glistened chest. "Y' sure? Need you to be sure." "M' on the pill." You murmur, eyes fluttering blissfully shut when he shoots ropes of thick cum up into you, watching adoringly as you take him.

He's oh so gentle when he pulls out, making his way to the bathroom to clean himself up, returning with a warm washcloth, peppering kisses on your thighs and lower belly as he wipes away the residue.

Simon sleeps with you tucked up against his chest that night, a hand settled protectively around your waist as he listens to the steady rise and fall of your breath, breathing in the smell of your shampoo.

⋆｡‧₊°♱༺𓆩❦︎𓆪༻♱༉‧₊˚.

1.1k of filth😚

Tagging those who wanted to be mentioned in a part 2, here u are my loves 💕

@whos-fran @mishaglass

[suzukiblu]

I always assumed Match started off more pale because he like. Wasn't finished cooking? Or more like he wasn't cooked 100 correctly.

Like, whenever I don't wanna cook I'll make these frozen pot pies, and you're supposed to let the pies defrost and slit the top while the oven preheats.

I've noticed when I don't defrost them or slit the top, the crust tends to stay a bit pale and a tiny bit... doughey? I guess?

So that's what I think happened between Superboy and Match. Superboy's pie got to defrost and cook, while Match's pie was left in the freezer while the oven preheated.

Like, I know that Match is supposed to be the "better" version of Superboy but like... I have a hard time believing The Agenda REALLY knew what they were doing

Ironically Match is supposed to have been the one who was completely "cooked", pretty sure he was actually MEANT to come out his "age". KON was supposed to be a grown-ass Superman but got busted out early. It's also at least implied that the only really "better" thing Match has going for him is that he got the full TTK/combat education uploads that Kon had interrupted, and they're actually evenly--you know, MATCHED, lol.

If I HAD to come up with a canonical reason for Match's original coloring changing, I'd either assume it was that he got zero sunlight in-development (which, considering iirc they built Match BEFORE it was canonically clear that Superboy was at least partially solar-powered is in fact a possibility), or it was an early symptom of the genetic flaw that led to his eventual Bizarrofication, which I once saw a fic assume the Agenda had purposefully built into him to keep him under their control. Like, they were giving him medication or hormones that kept the degradation from triggering, basically. Which I think is much smarter as an explanation than what canon did, which was, you know, just not explain it at all as far as I know. Like, obvi the Bizarrofication was just a stupid off-the-cuff idea somebody had like fifteen years later, not a planned thing that mattered or was interesting or logical, but that's how I'd probably explain it if I had to, hah.

Buuuuut I'm pretty sure the dude was originally just meant to be the sci-fi version of albino, just for whatever easy visual cheats to tell him and Kon apart reasons, and then somebody either lost the series bible or just decided to retcon that and stuff him in Kon's old T-shirt instead.

( god I STILL hate the T-shirt for BOTH of them, it's just such a stupidly OOC look that does not get TREATED as OOC. AND KON IS A PUNK, GDI, NOT A JOCK. )

[louie-posting]

opinion on,breadbugs ?

there is a smaller better variety. olimar sized. they are soft enough to deep fry. doughey. bake or toast too. but I cant find them fuck my life olimar wont TELL m crumbjgs crumbugs crumbugs HAD ONLY ONE MOTHER FUCKER

[pigeoninabowl69]

CRISTO TE ODIAAAAA 🗣️❗❗

SABES QUE?!?!!??! YA LO LLEVO PENSANDO HACE TIEMPO PERO GRACIAS A ESTO LO DIGO

MORAL TOWN ES LIT CORTAMAMBO

Cristo te odia- todo moral town

Necesito una mujer- el pastor

No somos latinos- supongo que los mexicanos de Moral town porque los segregaron o algo XD

Pegame y decime shirley- el episodio donde orel se vuelve mazoquista

La pequeña leti- me recuerda un poco a doughey (el amigo pelirrojo de Orel) pero quizás es la profesora víctima del heladero

Y bla bla no se que más

[disgracedmilfman]

James McGill is such a fascinating character to me because, except for baffling situations like the talking toilet, he never second guesses what's important to other people.

His brother has some psychosomatic bullshit reaction to electricity? He will fight tooth and nail with medical staff to get all the lights and machines in his room turned off. He knows the electromagnetic field theory doesn't hold up, but it's important to his brother, so it's important to him. Let his brother be eccentric in peace.

This old woman has a massive collection of porcelain figures no one gives a shit about? James McGill desperately wants her money, but that doesn't devalue his attentiveness and meticulous notes. He records her sprawling web of acquaintances and who gets what worthless lump of doughey eyed glass. He doesn't second guess it at all.

Being interested in other people and observing how they work does help him manipulate them, and it does make him a better crook, but I don't think that's why he was interested in other people in the first place. You know??

[moraloreldeservedbetter]

Kim & Bloberta would be those moms who stop in the grocery store just to talk to each other and Doughey, Orel, Shapey, and Block would all just stand there awkwardly for what seems like hours

BRO I HAVE THOUGHT THIS TOO

kim latchkey has so much potential as a character and bloberta needs to meet people who aren't ya know danielle or clay or putty

plus given how self centered they are im pretty sure they'd get along great

[ivydoomkitty]

Get that Bread stream starts at 6pm PT tonight! Come hang, watch me bake a thicc af doughey boi or two! Info in stories, inkytr33 at twitch! #latina #ivydoomkitty #getthatbread #breadmaking #bread #baking #catsofinstagram #fyp #fypシ #sundayvibes #edm #chillvibes #weekend #latinacreators #twitchstreamer https://www.instagram.com/p/ClxLpURpQRk/?igshid=NGJjMDIxMWI=

[fullcravings]

Poppyseed Cookies

[coreyww]

MORAL OREL FANTASY AU STARTS NOW

Summary: "We'll travel the land, righting wrongs, helping people, and spreading the gospel of our lord and savior!" said Orel cheerfully with Doughey nodding in agreement next to him.

"Yeah," Joe said, rolling his eyes, "cause nothing says 'adventure' than a bunch of dummies going around and telling bigger dummies they should go to church."

"Glad you agree!" --- Before Orel's life went terribly awry, he was known throughout the town of Moralton as Orel the Pure of House Puppington, a godly paladin, righter of wrongs, occassional accidental causer of wrongs, and Good Boy. This is the tale of how he became a local hero, formed an adventuring party, found love, made lifelong friends, sought truth and had the misfortune to find it, and how it all went Horribly Wrong.

[Content warning for prologue: Blood, injury, very heavily implied offscreen violence/abuse, just... referencing "Nature" at all, and generally being a lot heavier than the fic will overtly be 75% of the time]

[adultswim2021]

Moral Orel #34: “Alone” | October 22, 2008 - 12:15AM | S03E04

Dino likes to tell a story about this episode. When Mike Lazzo read the script, he complained to Dino that there was only one joke in the whole episode. Dino asked Lazzo to show him where it was so he could take it out. 

There actually are jokes in here. Hell, there’s a fair amount of jokes in this for this to solidly qualify as a comedy (how’s that for a pull quote?). But this episode is also a psychodrama about three lonely women going mad in their apartments. They all live in some kind of apartment building for spinsters.

There’s the story of Nurse Bendy, who approaches adulthood like a game of make believe that a child might play. This seems to be a trauma response to being objectified (and worse) by the men of Moralton (mostly Principal Fakey). She has a husband and son, who are actually just teddy bears she arranges around a dinner table. She adores her teddy bear husband until it falls out of it’s chair and lands on her rear, causing her to react as if he’s advancing on her sexually. She’s doused with milk, and she reacts in horror. Technically, this could be seen as a joke, but it also seems like it’s not supposed to be funny. The character is going through genuine anguish. And that’s where we leave Nurse Bendy. 

Miss Sculptham is one of the other women we see. She’s been raped by Cecil Creepler, who we might remember from the episode Courtship. It’s interesting to note that in that episode, he tries to molest Doughey in a misguided love-triangle while Doughy looks for a parental figure in Sculptham. In this episode we find out that Sculptham had an abortion, which she seemed to carry out herself in her apartment. Thematically it’s interesting, but I’m not sure what it means. The reason she had an abortion is because she was impregnated by her rapist. We learn through news clippings and radio broadcasts that she aided in his capture by dying her hair black (he didn’t like blondes!). She seems to have experienced gratification from being raped, and maybe even sorta courted his assault. Funny!

Also in the apartment building is Miss Censordoll, who eats eggs and talks to her mother and also talks to a guy on the phone about securing fertilized chicken eggs to eat (gross!). This echos back to Offensiveness. She’s plotting to take over Moralton, and refers to having the mayor in her back pocket. She also refers to the fact that her parents had her sexual organs removed when she was an infant, another sick-and-twisted way to get laughs on Adult Swim. 

This one feels sorta inessential? It’s all sorta setting up future episodes that don’t really require this episode to set them up, except for maybe the exception of Nurse Bendy, who winds up with a somewhat happy ending after this. There are also scenes with her and her teddy bears in that upcoming episodes, and it’s probably a little helpful getting this primer. Miss Sculptham’s story doesn’t pay off, but that’s because her episode winds up getting cut. Also, they try to tell her story without her speaking, so we rely on news clips and radio news, and it's a personal pet peeve of mine when we see text and hear audio at the same time. I feel like I didn't really read or hear any of it. This might be a personal shortcoming on my part, but it's my blog, and I am writing this, and I agree with myself.

On the radio there is a “puff piece” about Orel going hunting with his dad, and he refers to practicing shooting. Those events will be the focus of an upcoming episode.

44 NIGHTS OF OREL

They only aired one episode before this one: Repression, which deals with Nurse Bendy and Principal Fakey's relationship. A little odd that they didn't air Offensiveness as well... to say the least!!!!!!

[inlocusmads]

Hii 🥰

I saw this picture for Valentine’s Day and thought maybe it’ll inspire a fic or an edit (no pressure 🥰)

Peonie, thank you so much! Here's a little drabble to go along with the picture!

Pancakes And Warfare

He gives her a stubborn riddle she can never crack. Except she tries and miserably fails.

Pairing: Nora Rose x Trystan Thorne, Crimes of Passion.

>> wc: 1.8k, teen and up, language warning

"They're cut into hearts."

"On account of Valentine's Day." Trystan beamed at her. "This is what you call a -- pankūka. Drakovia borrows a lot of words from the Latvian dialect. We also borrow some of their wonderful recipes! Except this isn't made out of potatoes, no. This has your usual sugar, spice and everything doughey, sweet and remarkable thrown into a pot. But there is a secret ingredient."

Nora found it adorable to see some of his Baltic accent poking through. The kind of ways he employed to describe his cooking faded his pseudo-North American accent and made him roll his "Rs" and stress upon his syllables.

"Novogliterol?"

"Ha ha. Very funny. So funny that I forgot how to even laugh, so funny that--"

"Okay, okay! I'll -- try it out."

It wasn't an odd sight because Trystan could cook and that too, exceptionally well. Nora clearly had her doubts about him, but after exhibiting that he was an extremely skilled home cook, the Detective was willing to accept it. She was just a little apprehensive, because though the occassion was Valentine's Day, it was still.. odd. Strange. What's the catch? she asked herself, as she cut up a slice of the pancake with a knife and forked it, before tasting a bit.

An overwhelming taste of vanilla took over Nora's taste buds, but it made her crave it even more. She took a bigger bite, cutting right into the heart. The vanilla slowly morphed into something cinnamon-y and there was something else.. a tinge of orange and maple, dolloped with the fresh scent of strawberry sorbet. And it only proceeded to get better, for the strawberry left a chocolatey aftertaste in her mouth, laced with even more sugar and spice and she could even taste a little bit of chilli.

Now, yes, it was a cacophony of flavours as individuals,but when they were dancing around together, they produced this harmonious, orchestral aroma that gravitated to an intense blend of sweet, salt and everything. Trystan was right. The secret ingredient was quite possibly everything he could get from his kitchen (and Nora's), but he crafted it so in such a way that it hit her only after she chewed and swallowed it down.

"Is it to your liking?" Trystan asked, ever the polite chef.

"Oh -- my -- freaking --" Nora paused in between to draw in sharp breaths and finish her food. "This is awesome! Freakishly awesome. Freakishly.. freaky. It's strange. It's a pancake. A frickin pancake and you --" she pointed an accusing finger at him, "How is this possible?"

"Well, that's the secret ingredient, isn't it?"

"A secret ingredient or plural?"

"One. Just one."

"This is drugged."

"I would never do that!"

"Trystan--"

"No. There are no drugs. I promise. One hundred percent natural. All the best stuff. Only the best for you, Detective."

"So what am I even tasting?"

"You're going to have to finish the entire thing to come to your deductions." He sent a playful wink her way.

***

Luke had seen his fair share of disturbing scenarios. His cyber espionages led him to uncover all the hidden details; the carpeted scandals that the people in the upper crust had tried their best to get rid of. However, there was nothing comparable to that of walking into the office on a nice Tuesday evening, to find Nora Rose hunched over the table, in front of the evidence board mounted on an easel; with red strings leading from one place to the other.

"Woah-- what's -- up?" he tested the waters. "Working on a case?"

"Take a look at this! No really!" Nora stood up, nearly knocking her chair away. "I have to talk about this right now - this piparmetra popping up every now and then! Piparametra in Latvian is peppermint but what I tasted was not peppermint in any way. But it keeps popping up everywhere - and I've tried recipes, books, even songs! Drakovia has songs about everything but back in their rebellion days, they consumed a heck ton of peppermint and you had dishes with peppermint and cinnamon in them as spices and condiments and whatnot -- THEN I decided to talk to an expert who knows stuff about food, yes, Carl from the diner. He takes a stab at it, says there's absolutely no way you can mix chilli and vanilla and chocolate and make it sound sweet and he gave me this -"

Nora grabbed a huge book from her messenger bag and threw it onto the mahogany desk with a massive whack. The book was filled with post-it notes and packed with annotations.

"-- and I go through all of them! Anything remotely related to Baltic cuisine and culture. But then, I find this --"

She frantically ran through the pages, spotting a footnote right in the middle. "A paper trail leading to a newspaper. And when I went through the said newspaper, well it wasn't even one, because it was a food magazine. Why were magazines masquerading as newspapers? We'll never know, but that bit isn't important. What is important is the magazine in itself. The chief editor manned a catering service program for motorsport races - specifically the Formula One, but apparently the company shut down due to some shady embezzlement - again, not important--"

Luke tried to open his mouth but promptly closed it.

"The most interesting thing I found out was that a former member of the Renault Racing Team pit crew quit to write to food blogs. Emphasis on the "to" because he didn't start a food blog. He just submitted entries to the ones that accepted them. And he was employed directly by this person who owns the catering company. Funny, but we won't get into the details. The point is, it all ties back to Baltic pancakes somehow because -- this happens, yada yada yada, and somehow you have this Renault Guy and Catering Guy work on this recipe and on a mysterious food blog dated March 15th 2016, you have a story about the pancakes being a hit, some funny stories from the pit and so on and so forth -- but they are linked. There are no citations, no sources."

"But --"

"Anyway it is an excruciatingly long story, lots of embezzlements and tax frauds but we're not going to that. And also, there was an unsolved murder of a seven year old child that I also came across and that isn't important right now. The primary source of the recipe is lost, but I tried following fifteen different paper trails - food blogs, recipe books and not one of them explicitly mention what's in the secret ingredient. They dismiss it as a "spice mixture" and go onto gory details about their partner's affair with the zumba teacher. Once again, not important. THE POINT being I am so terribly lost. Do something."

"Do what?"

"According to this article on Drakovian culture, a tourist says they're all very secretive about their traditions and hate teaching it to foreigners, which is -- fine, understandable. Whatever. And then they go into a lot of detail about how to learn them, which is convenient. They go into a lot of stuff about sparring techniques and the five different words for the past tense of beheading alone and so on.. and I got a tiny footnote at the end. I need your help with the--" Nora made typing gestures in the air. "Computers. Yes."

"Ok..ay?"

"But there is a problem."

"And that is?"

"We might have to break into the Drakovian Palace's servers in Drakkos, which means we might likely commit international cyber warfare. Well, it is more of an espionage because data theft isn't exactly illegal by law and you can totally get away with the nastiest of things, but the whole idea is to just -- get things. But if Drakovia considers it to be a "strategic advantage" if we do break into their iron-clad computer systems and break whatever laws they probably have imposed on how they interact with the international community, we might be technically at war with them."

"So.. just a small war, right?"

"Yeah, yeah. Very -- small."

"What's this for again?"

Nora swallowed hard.

"Rose." Luke demanded a response.

"Trystan the other day made me a stack of pancakes and wouldn't tell me what the secret ingredient is, that made it taste so good. So I'm trying to figure it out myself and so far, it isn't going great." she said, her hair falling out in small clumps, eyes red without sleep and a half tucked shirt that could only allude to the fact that she'd slept in the office just trying to figure this out.

"-- what."

***

"The secret ingredient is.. love."

"Oh fuck off." Nora snarled.

"No, it is, Detective! I just added in a bit of a love potion in it." Trystan said, a cheeky smile on his face as he relaxed on his couch. "I'm surprised it has a low-reaction time though."

"I will murder you."

"Another Tuesday then?" he grinned.

"Okay -- okay--" Nora grabbed a mass of her hair, tied it up into a ponytail and rubbed her face in exasperation. It had been two whole days since the fiasco started and she was not having any of it. "You can't just tell me?"

"Nope. That defeats the purpose of it being secret. But yes, it is made with a lot of love and care. And you can never ever know it."

"Why not? Is it just to boost your ego?"

"Yes. But also -- this is the only riddle you can never solve and that gives me two shots of ego for the price of one. Crazy, isn't it? Crazy genius I'd say. Sir Trystan Sebastijan Thorne, Duke of Cleverness." Trystan chuckled, "But I suppose if you'd -- really like to know so bad, I can just tell you. I'm not a masochist, you know. No schadenfreude here. But you'd have to stick around to find out. With me, that is."

"How long?"

"Thirty years. Or eternity. Somewhere between that. Or.. I could tell you right here and right now, but you'd have to address me as Sir Trystan Sebastijan Thorne, Duke of Cleverness forever."

Nora scoffed and walked out the door.

"Happy Valentine's Day, Nora!"

***

"All settled now?" Luke asked, several days later. "Ready to take on a new case? I hear Mafalda's got some major stuff on the NYPD. Bribery and laundering and stuff. It's crazy good, but dangerous."

"Well -- I've got to wait for him."

Luke shrugged. "Who?"

Nora sighed. "Sir Trystan Sebastijan Thorne, Duke of Cleverness."

"What?"

And by a stroke of comedic-timing genius, the Prince walked in, flamboyantly waving his arms about, going all theatrical on a Thursday morning. "Good morning, everyone! I hear there's a murder on the papers today! Who's ready to get out there, hm?"

____

Thank you so much for reading! Happy Valentine's Day! I was in such a rush to get it done in time, because where I'm at, it is Feb 14th! Hope you guys have a great day! <33

Tagging:

Perma: @tessa-liam @trappedinfanfiction @peonierose @writing-not

Crimes only: @cassie-thorne @lilyoffandoms @aallotarenunelma @ofmischiefandmedicine

[jakeperalta]

i dont think old fashioneds usually come sugar-coated, theyre the only kind of doughnut i like cause theyre not usually too sweet. its like a slightly sweet doughey flavor cause its still a doughnut but its like if you imagine a doughnut without extra flavors and shit added in. theyre nice especially with coffee. could be different regionally tho idk!

oh that sounds really good!! I feel like I need to be on the lookout for old fashioneds now!