🔞 Doodler
@phantomdoodler.bsky.social
150 followers 65 following 1.7K posts
30-something demi chick who draws dicks. No wank, just wanking. Also known as p_doodler and p_lewdler 日本語を鍛えたいから、会話練習させてくれ Magyarul is probálok tanulni.
Posts Media Videos Starter Packs
Reposted by 🔞 Doodler
nanakohf.bsky.social
「友達」「メドウグリーン #65ab31 」(+45min)
※"友達"のタイトルに偽りあり

ヒューフェル版ワンドロワンライで描いたのをこちらにも掲載します
#ferdibert #ヒューフェル
Reposted by 🔞 Doodler
Reposted by 🔞 Doodler
iheartfatapollo.bsky.social
Are you 18 or older with a fandom-related tattoo (or know someone who has one)? Please take 10 min to fill out this survey for my new book project on embodied fan identities and practices. Share widely! utexas.qualtrics.com/jfe/form/SV_... Contact info: [email protected].
Reposted by 🔞 Doodler
thedarkivist.bsky.social
if you think you've seen this before no you haven't
"I would ask you to trust me when I say I'm well enough to resume my duties," he replied without hesitation. He sat down and tried a different angle. "Earlier, I went to town to see to a couple of personal matters. I dare say that the fresh air was… fairly agreeable."

His lady's expression turned grim. "I heard all about that." She leaned forward in her seat and propped her head on her hands, trying to express her point in the kindest way possible. "Hubert, it's not normal that a shopkeeper faints at the merest sight of you." 

Close enough.

"Maybe he fainted for an unrelated reason," he defended himself.

"We are not having this discussion." Another sigh. "Hubert, you're prone to overworking yourself at the best of times, and I appreciate all that you do, but everything is under control. All that is required of you now is to focus on rest and recovery. If you must argue with someone, argue with Ferdinand."
phantomdoodler.bsky.social
and to think she hasn't even been properly pinched yet
Reposted by 🔞 Doodler
shinvincent.bsky.social
没ラフ供養
ヒューフェル🖤🧡🔞
poipiku.com/154885/12321...
phantomdoodler.bsky.social
you've heard of praise kink
now get ready for positive performance review kink
phantomdoodler.bsky.social
behind on my boobies, but I AM thinking about ferdibert developing a disgusting form of dirty talk where they tell each other how capable and useful they are
phantomdoodler.bsky.social
scissors beats rock in this case?
phantomdoodler.bsky.social
very handy for avoiding eye-contact while she snoops
phantomdoodler.bsky.social
pictured: inside Ferdinand's tent, probably
phantomdoodler.bsky.social
Casting charisma debuffs wherever she goes
Reposted by 🔞 Doodler
dieworkwear.bsky.social
This two-parter below is exactly why it's hard to make clothes in the United States.

Let's look at how much it costs to produce a button-up shirt in the US. 🧵
Someone on Twitter replies to me: "meh. buy american or stfu." 

Two hours later, in a separate thread, the write: "$30 for a single button-up is ridiculous unless it is decent quality silk."
phantomdoodler.bsky.social
Kinktober 11

So I heard y'all like boob windows
phantomdoodler.bsky.social
Wodehouse was onto something with "fake lawyer to escape real dating"
phantomdoodler.bsky.social
I don't think No Nut November should be a thing. I think we should do it in December and then everyone cums together when the Times Square ball drops.
Reposted by 🔞 Doodler
thedarkivist.bsky.social
I've shown this snippet before. The other one is a bit different, but it came from the same starting point. Ferdinand, let's be honest here, tends to initiate things in his relationships, so I thought it would be cool to explore what would happen if he stopped. Maybe with a mild horror flavour.
Somehow, Ferdinand von Aegir invented an entirely new way to irritate him. They passed each other in the hallway earlier. Hubert offered a curt nod. The corners of Ferdinand’s lips twisted upwards in an approximation of a smile.

“Minister-” he called after him when Ferdinand didn’t even pause to make some inane remark about the weather. 

Only then he stopped, his expression still blandly pleasant. “Yes? Is anything the matter?”

Hubert cleared his throat. “I was wondering if you would be amenable to a break today. Same time, same place.” Just asking made him cringe, absurd as it was. But it was usually Ferdinand who issued invitations and it was only then that Hubert realised how much he’d come to rely on him taking the initiative in their friendship. 

It had been nine weeks since their last teatime.

Ferdinand’s eyes were very, very bright. He was the same identical man he had been less than two months ago. He liked horses, tea, opera, early mornings, and driving Hubert crazy. But somehow the person with an apologetic smile plastered on his face seemed a perfect stranger. 

“I am so very sorry,” he said, his tone impeccably contrite, “but there is so much to catch up on, I am just too swamped with work these days.” 
Bullshit, Hubert thought.

“Is that so?” he asked instead. “I assumed your team would be able to keep things running smoothly in your absence. It is what they receive their salaries for, after all.” There were multiple good reasons he struggled to overpower the other, but Hubert von Vestra wasn’t brought up to make excuses. He wasn’t raised to panic either, and so he did not. His thoughts didn’t race, and his hands didn’t shake when he yanked at the hair in his grasp and poured the toxin down the unwilling throat. 

He tossed the empty vial aside, and quickly covered the other’s mouth, to prevent him from spitting. More fight than Hubert was used to in similar situations, but that was, perhaps, to be expected. 

Finally, the other slumped on the sofa. Hubert counted till thirty, then stepped away, rubbing his hands together, as though to wipe away the things they’d done. 

He sat down in an armchair, pulled out his pocket watch, and waited, unmoving, eyes fixed on the limp body across from him. Seven minutes later, the first convulsions started. Hubert got up and rang for a servant. 
A maid appeared at once, but froze mid-curtsy when she saw the prime minister collapsed on the sofa. 

“Bring a medic immediately,” Hubert said calmly, pretending not to notice how she recoiled from him. “The prime minister has been poisoned.”
phantomdoodler.bsky.social
next year: Edgetober
Post once or post every day, but nobody cums until the 31st