🔞 Doodler

Viscerally tired

I love you, ships that can't be neatly categorized by culture-bound definitions like romantic or platonic or sexual

Ehh, our tax refund should be here soon, so it should be fine. But I must periodically yell about it.

Consider, however.....hanahaki as a love spell

let's see how much 80s-90s Academic Feminism™️ I can stomach for the sake of ancient gay shit

but anyways
time to find $1700 for a test I don't need to prove to insurance that they should maybe partially pay for a machine I DO need that costs $1800

controversial opinion I think people with chronic illnesses and/or disabilities should be allowed to survive shitty governments

"the government doesn't do anything anyways"
sure, unless you're on medicare or medicaid or food stamps or rely on the post office or have any kind of employer-paid health insurance that will still fuck you over as much as they possibly can without getting bankrupted by postmortem lawsuits

extremely tired of listening to self-proclaimed pr🅾️gressives insisting we need internet-famous idealogues instead of politicians as if people aren't dying because of which Disgustingly Moderate bills do or don't get proposed & passed 🤪

extremely tired of jumping through (very expensive) hoops for a healthcare system that exists to make sure I don't survive because that would be more profitable for them

ferdibert spawn: career training

my dentist telling me to cut back on sugary/carbonated drinks and I'm just like....if this is my worst habit, it's risk reduction

Hubert who thinks he has his horni- desire for Ferdinand under control until Ferdinand slaps Hubert mid-argument, unlocks something neither were aware of, and end up having hate-sex on the war table

If anyone wants some design work for their OCs, though 👀
I'm much more of a concept person than an illustrator when it comes down to it

Maybe I could do postcard doodles instead of digital illustrations. I'm less likely to overwork those and it's easier to do executive functioning with physical objects....

Pronouns: she/any
height: 5’7” / 170cm
Zodiac: ♊️
smoke: no, my lungs are already weak enough
Tattoos: yes, I see them as a holistic piece that grows with me and my experiences
Piercings: just ears. nose didn't work :(
Fav color: BLUE
Fav drink: cuba libre, matcha latte, hazelnut flat white

considered opening commissions while spouse is job searching (for the little treats fund, you know), but receiving money is soooooo demotivating for me

interest check for 🩷 acrylic charm forms.gle/ZPmYA3rNu3Wj...

The gentle curling of fingers around her bicep to get her attention, then a soft voice in her ear. "We should probably pretend to make up soon." And unfortunately, Hubert agreed, so she silently nodded. Which it seemed was all the invitation Ferdinand needed to worm an arm between Hubert's waist and the back of the lounge. Hubert's first instinct was to go rigid. To freeze and figure out how to get away. The logical part of her mind told her it was necessary for their act. The less rational side luxuriated in the contact and demanded it end before Ferdinand’s touch seared through her skin and met bone. Because she wanted it. And she hated herself for that. But she has a facade to keep up. So she tried to force her muscles to loosen, and instead focused on revenge in the form of her hand falling to Ferdinand's knee. Ferdinand did not recoil, did not stiffen and panic. Another reminder of how very out of her depth Hubert was. Her first retaliation foiled, Hubert gathered herself for a few minutes, and then slipped her arm around Ferdinand’s shoulders. The glower she got when Ferdinand slowly turned to look at her felt like a victory. And yet, in winning the battle, she had set herself up for a devastating blow in the war. Ferdinand set her jaw, tightening her arm around Hubert’s waist and using the other to scoop under Hubert’s knees and deposit them across her thighs. A position far too close to sitting on her lap. But she could not move. Not when they were supposed to be pretending to make up. Not when she had escalated the conflict between them. Her cheeks seared in humiliation, Hubert leaned in, putting faux-warmth in her tone as she murmured, “I hate you,” into Ferdinand’s ear.

f/f ferdibert fake dating for this WIP wednesday
I am v tired and have nothing more to say k thx bai

I have such a bad headache

A little itchy

“You can simply take a painkiller, you know,” Hubert grumbled into his nape, squeezing his fingers gently. “I am not in pain.” Ferdinand sighed. The private room adjoining the infirmary was perfectly comfortable and the weight of Hubert’s body against his usually made it even easier to sink into sleep, but those days sleep eluded him. Once the pain had subsided, the idleness of recovery left him restless and fidgety. “I simply cannot sleep. If… if you want to rest, perhaps you might have to sleep in your own room tonight.” Hubert ignored the suggestion. “Is there something I can do? Manuela doesn’t want you walking around, but I could try to procure something to read. Or some calming tea, on the condition you won’t try to make me drink any.” He took the hand resting lightly on his stomach and kissed it. “It is of no consequence. My body is sulking for the want of something to do.” “You are supposed to be recovering.” “Do you think I do not realise that?” He entwined their fingers and sighed deeply. “It is merely more challenging than you would imagine.” There was silence. A silence Ferdinand knew too well - Hubert wouldn’t drop the subject, no. He was just selecting his words. “Some people recommend masturbation.” The wave of gratitude that washed over Ferdinand as he reminded himself that Hubert couldn’t see him was indescribable. “You cannot be serious,” he choked out. “Means to an end.”

Ferdinand sucked in a breath. They haven’t even broached the subject of physical intimacy, but it wasn’t as though Hubert didn’t know his body better than anyone else ever could. Means to an end. An excuse, certainly, but why shouldn’t he use it if they were of the same mind? “I wouldn’t offer otherwise.” A quick nod. “It… it is worth a try, I suppose.” Slowly, almost teasingly, Hubert pulled up his nightgown and cupped his already stirring cock. A little choked-up whimper slipped Ferdinand at the sensation. He leaned back, nestled in Hubert’s arms as he caressed him in light, strangely coy strokes. Distantly, he became aware of Hubert’s own hardening length pressing against him. A thought nudged at him, sending a thrill through his body - was that how Hubert tended to himself? Flushed, dishevelled, sweat-damp shirt sticking to his frame- He moaned, thrusting into Hubert’s welcoming hand. With shaking hands, he hitched up his nightgown even higher and pressed his hips against Hubert’s erection in a wordless invitation. Hubert hesitated, and his hand faltered, but he recovered quickly enough. A moment later, Ferdinand felt his length slipping between his thighs, rutting clumsily. It would’ve been better with something to ease the friction, but neither could imagine stopping. Hubert’s gasps in his ear were nearly enough to send him over the edge. Nearly. Ferdinand covered Hubert’s hand on his cock with his own, urging him on. Suddenly, Hubert spilt between his legs, whimpering into Ferdinand’s flushed neck with the aftershocks.

Ferdinand held onto his hand, chasing his own pleasure. Maybe he laughed when he finally came, but only because it felt so plainly right. He slumped, boneless, perfectly satisfied. “Better?” Hubert asked, his voice still hoarse. “Let me clean up.” Ferdinand wanted to tell him not to, but then released his hand. It wouldn’t do to be still soiled in such a tell-tale manner by the time any healer came to check on him. The last thing he remembered from that night was the sensation of a cool cloth carefully wiping down his skin, and a warm body pressed against his back as he finally dozed off.

some ferbies filth

technically set after Conditions of Survival but can be read on its own

suffering. together.

bodysharing sex pollen

a screenshot of you and I are polar opposites. honda says "whether they're guys or girls, they bleed the same color when you stab them."

"regardless of gender, I basically vaguely dislike anyone I don't know."

she's pioneering what scientists are calling "evil bisexuality"

Lady Aegir: I see you've been at that hussy's apartment again.
Duke Aegir: She's a medical professional. My grandpa's prostate got to the size of a grapefruit before it ruptured, you know.
Lady Aegir: 😒
8yo Ferdinand eating his peas: 😧

H: I don't care whose body I'm in, I am not putting ANYTHING in your ass
F: If you will not, then I will 😤
H: onefear.jpeg

Anyways, this is when the bodyswap should happen-

I just think Ferds gets unbearably antsy when he doesn't have his biweekly session