#this took. much longer than i anticipated.

[eydilily]

For the reqs, any pearls or gems ? I love them in your style <33

a gem and a pearl! <3

[monster-effer]

Oh okk my wifi been acting up lately💀 I requested hcs with all the l&ds men about how'd they react to finding out reader can secretly pole dance, sfw and nsfw hcs if you do nsfw please! Thank you!!💕

This was a really fun concept to write about!!

It seems I am incapable of describing things concisely because this turned out much longer than I expected LMAO, I hope you enjoy 💗💗💗

Sylus

Funnily enough, this starts from a game of tipsy Truth of Dare with Luke and Kieran. You chose truth and they asked you to tell them one unknown fact about yourself. You are a certified yapper when you’re tipsy so you blabbed about your pole dancing hobby then passed out and forgot about your confession.

Of course this info made its way back to Sylus (most likely that same night). And he was intrigued. He would tease you while asking why you’ve been keeping such an interesting hobby from him.

The very next day he would have a pole installed in one of the spare rooms of his home base.

The room would be decorated with in dark, seductive colors with ceiling lights that  showcase the pole and the immediate area around it.

There is no furniture in the room besides a plush black arm chair and a side table.

Sylus calls you over to the N109 Zone saying that he has a surprise for you.

When you arrive he’s all smirks and being more vague than usual. You also don’t miss the mischievous glint in his eyes.

As he lets you walk into the room first, you are speechless.

“Forgive me if this is too presumptuous kitten, but I couldn’t get the image of you pole dancing out of my mind. I have a request, why don’t you show me what you’ve learned so far?”

“What’s in it for me?”

Sylus chuckles huskily before replying “Have I ever left you empty handed? You know me better than that.”

You gulp at his offer and quickly don the outfit and shoes that are placed neatly near the pole in the room.

Sylus dims the lights in the room, with the ceiling lights over the pole brighter than the rest. He settles into the armchair and pours himself a glass of whiskey. He adjusts himself in his pants, already feeling his cock stiffen from the anticipation.

You stretch and take a few breaths to get yourself in the zone.

You connect your phone to the speaker in the room then play the first song from your pole dancing playlist.

Once you feel confident and ready, you make eye contact with Sylus and begin to sway to the seductive music.

Although you took several classes in person, you have never performed for anyone before.

You begin to slowly whine your hips to the beat and spin while maneuvering around the pole.

With Sylus’ full attention focused on you, you can’t help but feel like a goddess.

Sylus’ gaze is practically searing your skin. You begin to perspire from the effort you’re putting into this performance. Feeling bold, you slide all the way down the pole until your thighs are flush with the floor. Then, you crawl towards Sylus.

Sylus sharply inhales and puts down his emptied glass on the side table as he eagerly awaits what’s to come.

When you reach him, you place your hands on his knees and slowly rise to your feet. You flash a mischievous smile at him before straddling his lap. Then you wind your arms around his neck and look into his eyes as you grind down hard onto his lap.

Your breath intermingles as you hypnotize him with your undulating hips. When your performance ends you are lightly panting, nervously awaiting to hear his thoughts.

Sylus is mesmerized by the gift you’ve just given him. And he can’t help but to cup the right side of your face before pulling you in for a passionate kiss.

Your lips glide against one another before you both have to pull away to catch your breath.

“Does that mean you enjoyed the show?”

“You were exquisite my sweetie,” he says as he places his hands under your thighs and rises from the chair. Your legs instinctively wrap around his waist as he walks towards the door of the room.

“Now, let me give you your prize for that outstanding performance.”

Zayne

Zayne is walking around downtown Linkon when something catches his eye. He sees someone that looks suspiciously like you in the window of a fitness class. He has eyes for no one else as he watched you swing effortlessly around the pole. Not wanting to be mistaken for a pervert, he only watches for a few more moments before continuing on his walk.

He ends up walking past his intended destination because he was lost in thought over what he saw. So many questions pop into his mind. Luckily it is Thursday, and he has plans with you this weekend.

Saturday morning finally arrives, and you are at Zayne’s door holding an assorted box of fruit flavored macaroons.

As you let yourself in with your key, you find Zayne washing dishes in his kitchen. He is lost in his thoughts because he doesn’t immediately notice you’ve come in. You place the macaroons on the kitchen counter before circling his waist with your arms and resting your head on his back.

“I didn’t hear you come in,” he says softly.

“I just arrived. A penny for your thoughts?”

He finishes washing the dish in his hand before he dries his hand on a clean dish towel. He untangles his body from yours so he can face you.

“I saw something interesting when I was taking a stroll in downtown Linkon earlier this week.”

“Oh? And what was so interesting that it’s stayed on your mind until now?”

Zayne pushes his glasses up on the bridge of his nose as a light blush overtakes his cheekbones.

“I saw someone who looked exactly like you a few days ago. They could have been your doppelgänger.”

It doesn’t immediately register in your mind that he’s talking about you yet.

“Oh? And what was my twin doing?”

He clears his throat before continuing. “Pole dancing,” he says in a low tone.

Your eyes widen as you connect the dots.

“O-oh,” you say shakily.”

“It’s a new hobby that I picked up recently. I didn’t think you, my doctor, would complain about me building muscle,” you reply cheekily.

“It seems you misunderstood me. I am far from complaining. I do have a request though.”

“And what is that?”

“I request an encore performance, just for me. Considering your medical condition, it is not advisable to begin a new exercise routine without first consulting your doctor.” He says with the smallest grin on his face.

“When is your next available appointment? I had a pole installed in my apartment a week ago. We can conduct your assessment there.”

Rafayel

Rafayel comes across your knee pads and skimpy outfit when he visits your apartment one day.

“What kind of event calls for this outfit cutie?” He asks while holding up your short shorts and knee pads.

IMO Rafayel would be very curious about your pole dancing skills. He would teasingly request a demonstration of your skills and he’d be adorably flustered as he watches your body wind up, down and around the pole.

The man would be flabbergasted and turned on at this demonstration of strength and the expression of freedom as you perform for him.

The sensual nature of this private show is heavy in the room. He’s never seen you look so confident and carefree before. He lets out a weak moan as he watches you and begins to palm his erection through his dress pants.

As a result of your performance, his libido and creativity are at an all time high.

He would have a pole installed in his studio and call you over one day.

He would request that you to hold various poses for him as he attempts to capture the raw sensuality you exude.

Rafayel would get so worked up while he paints that his ever steady hand begins to shake. Before he is done, he is begging for you to use him for your own pleasure. Whether it be riding his face, his cock or his fingers. Any of those get him off because your pleasure is his.

This develops into a pleasurable cycle.

One, two, three paintings later result in Rafayel being desperate and needy for you. More so than he already was. He is never letting you go.

And the paintings of you begin to pile up in his studio. But they aren’t for sale of course, they are for his eyes only.

Because to Rafayel you are the most captivating work of art he’s ever seen, and he will not share this side of you with the rich schmucks that can afford his art.

Caleb

Caleb finds out about your new hobby during one of his visits to Linkon. Instead of heading to his apartment in Skyhaven, he came over to your apartment for a change of pace.

When he walks into your apartment, he is immediately greeted by the pole you had installed in your living room.

He playfully raises his eyebrow and tilts his head to the side as he says, “I didn’t know you have this in you pipsqueak.”

You shrug and say, “I’m not a kid anymore Caleb.”

He slowly eyes you up and down. “Oh, there’s no doubt about that. How exactly did you start this new hobby?”

As you explain that you got into pole dancing for fun and strength building Caleb is nodding along with your reasoning.

“Strength building huh? Show me what you’ve learned so far princess.”

Your heart feels like it’s going to beat out of your chest. But you eventually agree then go change into the performance outfit that gives you the most confidence.

Caleb is already feeling flustered when he sees the skimpy outfit you changed into. He has tried not to act on his long held crush but today may push him past his limit.

As you stretch you wonder if this is crossing the line for what is acceptable to do with a childhood friend/pseudo brother figure. Although you’ve denied it on multiple occasions, your feelings for Caleb lost their innocence well before this moment.

You grab your bluetooth speaker and turn on some music. As you lock gazes with Caleb you feel like this is the point of no return.

Caleb looks suspiciously comfortable seated on your living room couch, thighs spread wide and arms resting on the back of the sofa.

You gaze trails away from him as you close your eyes to get yourself into the zone. After taking a deep breath, you begin to strut around the pole. You seamlessly transition into a routine that you’ve practiced multiple times. But today it feels different, somehow more intimate because Caleb is watching you.

You lose yourself in the music as you climb the pole and twirl slowly down it. You feel so seductive in this moment as you lock eyes with Caleb and take in his reaction.

Caleb was already attracted to you because how could he not be? But tonight, he is struggling to hold back his possessive urges to stake his claim on you. In his mind, you have always been his and tonight he’s going to make sure you know it.

He doesn’t even wait for you to finish your routine before he activates his evol and pulls you right into his lap. His violet eyes were filled with lust as he takes in the surprised look on your face.

You are shook to say the least. Caleb doesn’t use his evol on you often, and when he has it was never for something like this. The tension between you two is thick as you look into each other’s eyes.

“I take it that you liked the show?”

“I’m sure you can feel how much I enjoyed it princess. From now on think I’ll be crashing at your place whenever I’m in town,” he says before pulling you into a messy kiss.

Xavier

Xavier finds out about your new hobby from overhearing a conversation you were having with Tara and Simone.

From the brief snippets he heard, it seemed like something you were really excited about. It made him wonder why you haven’t mentioned it to him yet. Since you two talk practically every day there have been plenty of opportunities to do so.

A few weeks pass before Xavier feels like he’s given you enough time. He decides to bring it up while you two laze around his apartment.

“I heard you talking to your coworkers about your new hobby.”

You choke on your boba tea.

“Did you now?”

“Yeah,” he answers breezily. “What is it?”

“I’m learning how to pole dance. It utilizes multiple muscle groups and I like how it makes me feel.”

Xavier is shocked but he doesn’t let it show on his face. “How does it make you feel?”

You whisper out “Strong…and beautiful.”

Xavier hums lightly at your answer.

“Are you allowed to record yourself in the classes you take?”

“I would have to check. But, I had a pole installed in my apartment a few days ago.”

A small smile appeared on Xavier’s face. “Can you show me your moves bunny?”

You send a flirtatious smile his way before standing up and walking towards his front door.

Let’s just say that Xavier is mystified by your hips. You show out for him just to see what causes him to lose his composure. It happens to be the moment that you slide down the pole, proceed to stand up and swivel your hips in a figure eight motion that does it.

Xavier flashes over to the pole, grabs you, then sits back on the couch while holding you in his lap. “Continue dancing,” is all he says in the commanding tone that makes your heart quiver. When you look in his eyes you realize you may have pushed him too hard.

You gyrate in his lap as you hold his gaze, charmed by his blue eyes that have darkened with lust.

His thumbs are digging into your hips, holding you in place. As if you’re trying to escape.

Xavier would 100% whisper some nasty shit into your ear while you continue to grind on him. Once he’s had enough let’s just say that your bed frame and pussy never recovered ♡.

[mydeicakie]

𓂃 ࣪˖ ִֶָ🩰. ݁ᛪ༙ 𝐁𝐄𝐓𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐓𝐇𝐀𝐍 𝐖𝐈𝐍𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐀 𝐌𝐀𝐓𝐂𝐇 ?!!!!!

༉‧₊˚. 𝒫𝒜ℛℐ𝒩𝒢 ： boxer bf!Mydei x gf fem!reader

༉‧₊˚. 𝒮𝒴𝒩𝒪𝒫𝒮ℐ𝒮 ： It's Valentine's Day, and Mydei's just lost his match- but you're not about to let him stay down. Instead of the usual sympathy, you've got something much hotter in mind. You strip away the disappointment and replace it with something far more irresistible-your body. As his frustration melts away, you take control, giving him a night full of pleasure that's better than any victory. Your pussy's all his, and tonight, he'll know it's the best win he could've ever had. (Modern au)

༉‧₊˚. 𝒲𝒜ℛ𝒩ℐ𝒩𝒢𝒮 ：smut, vaginal, daddy kink, doggy style, body worship?, ass/pussy eating, mydei is kinda needy, as-well as reader is needy too, fluff, size kink? (he’s big asf), big dick mydei, kissing, hickeys, nipple play, breast play, soft & gentle sex.

༉‧₊˚. ℰ𝒳𝒯ℛ𝒜 ： I know I might’ve made some auto corrects. Forgive me 🤕. Also this is a collab with @blueberrisdove-sideblog & she’s the person who got the original idea of boxer Mydei.

Mydei was pissed after losing his match. You could see the frustration in his eyes, but you weren't about to let it ruin the night. Without saying a word, you undressed, your movements slow and deliberate. As you stood in front of him, the tension shifted. You didn't need to speak-your actions were enough. Tonight wasn't about words or comfort. It was about giving him something he really wanted, something no match could ever compare to you.

A scowl still pinched between his eyebrows, but there was a flicker of interest as he watched you undress with deliberate slowness. The room was charged with a different kind of tension now, no longer just frustration lingering in the shadows.His own movements turned fluid as he rose from the mat, approaching you with a predator's grace. The air grew thick with the anticipation building in both of you, your naked forms nearly touching as his breath ghosted over your skin.Without a word, he wrapped his arms around your waist, strong hands dipping into the slight curves of your hips.

His forehead came to rest against your shoulder, his muscular body pressed intimately against yours.In this moment, the night's plans were rewritten. Winning the match took second place to simply having you like this – with him, beneath his touch. Mydei leaned back, piercing his intense gaze into yours. "Just want you," he murmured, his low voice roughed by the desire thrumming between you. Then, he captured your lips in a kiss that left no room for words.

The kiss deepened, swallowing your sigh and the quiet laughter underlying it. Mydei's fingers tangled in your hair as he leaned into the sensual tease, his broad chest rubbing deliciously against yours. His tongue traced the seam of your mouth, seeking entrance to the honeyed warmth within.As if on instinct, he lifted you, bending your torso back slightly in his strong arms as he kissed down your jaw to the sensitive skin beneath your ear.

His hot breath fanned across your tender pulse even as he spoke softly against your flesh, "Think I still have some moves to share tonight, baby." His words sent a shiver racing down your spine, already primed and yearning for him. Mydei seemed to sense this, a wicked smile teasing at the corners of his lips before he straightened, sweeping you up into his arms and carrying you to the bed.A new game of conquest was underway in those warm, inviting sheets—and Mydei was determined to claim victory again tonight.

After laying you down on the plush mattress, his eyes roamed hungrily over your body, taking in the slender lines and lush curves. His hands skimmed down your sides before settling cupping your breasts, thumbs playing over the pebbled nipples. "Still have much to learn here too," he murmured with a smirk, his fingers twisting the sensitive buds, making you gasp.

His other hand slid further, teasing the tender skin beneath your navel before dipping lower to stroke the sensitive folds between your thighs. Moans spilled from your lips as he explored the sweetness there, his knowledge and patience an irresistible combination. Mydei kissed a trail down your body, pausing to lavish attention on your aching skin along the way.

When he reached between your legs again, his fingers delved deeper, stroking the most intimate pulse points with confident skill. Your head thrashed against the mattress, panting cries for more escaping you as he pushed you higher. He lavished sensual torture on your core, keeping your pleasure building to a fever pitch before allowing you a brief respite. During this lull, his lips found your own again in a searing kiss.

“Aughhh Mydei…” You moaned out loud and softly, his fingers curling. Making you cry out loud from pleasure. “D-Daddy…” you moaned softly and bit down your bottom lip.

The needy word slipped from your lips, a primal plea that sparked a thrill through him in spite of his tough exterior. "Daddy...?" Mydei echoed, a husky chuckle rumbling in his chest. "Seems my lil' girl needs something special tonight."He dipped his fingers even deeper, curling them to rub the exact spot that made you see stars. Electric jolts of pleasure radiated from where he touched, heightening the tension coiling low in your belly. "That's it, just let go for me," he encouraged, his hot breath seeping through your skin as he licked and nipped at your neck. "Mydei..." Your voice trembled, barely audible over the deafening symphony of sensations he was creating.

He sensed your nearing peak, his fingers picking up their intense pace."Get there for me, baby. Cum all over my hand like a good girl." With those words, he brought you hurtling into ecstasy, your inner walls clenching wildly around his fingers as euphoria overwhelmed you. Mydei groaned, relishing the sight of your release, before gently sliding free and bringing his glistening fingers to his lips. "Delicious," the boxer murmured, eyes locking onto yours with a smoldering intensity as he licked your essence clean.

The visual act only stoked the embers of his own desire, a familiar ache growing south. With deliberate movements, he lay down beside you, his larger frame encasing yours like a protective shroud. "Now, about that instruction I was overdue..." His voice was a low, tantalizing growl in your ear as he traced the curve of your hips, teasing, before continuing lower, exploring every dip and plane of your vulnerable body.

Each touch was deliberate, a sensual exploration intended to rekindle the inferno within him. "Tell me where you want to feel me first, love," he urged, nuzzling the tender nape of your neck before gently grazing his teeth across the sensitive skin. "I want to make this about you." His words were a promise, a vow to lavish attention and pleasure on you, to indulge in mutual enjoyment until you both succumbed to the insistent calls of your bodies.

“N-No need to do that daddy…” you mumbled softly. He paused his playful exploration, tilting your chin up with a finger to meet your hesitant gaze. Mydei's golden eyes held a depth of adoration and devotion, a quiet intensity that melted the reservations from your expression. "Always need," he corrected softly, brushing his lips across your forehead in a gentle kiss. "I'm here for you, completely.

Your pleasure, your satisfaction, that's all that matters." The tender reassurance spoke volumes of the unwavering dedication he held for you, a steadfast commitment that extended far beyond the act they were engaged in now. It was a profound reminder of the unwavering bond you shared, a love that balanced the harsh realities of his boxing life with its simplest joys - giving and receiving affection uncompromised.With that reassurance, Mydei's attentions turned back to your body, his hands continuing their leisurely path.

He teased the undersides of your breasts, marveling at the weight of them in his palms, before trailing lower to explore the tender expanse of your abdomen. His thumbs found your hipbones, gently rubbing the juncture where soft gave way to hard, urging your hips to press closer, a subtle reminder of the desire burning between you. "I'll be gentle."

“Promise?” You looked at him with hopeful eyes.

"Promise," he confirmed solemnly, his intense stare unwavering. He leaned in, sealing his vow with a tender kiss. "You're safe with me. I'll take care of you." After establishing that unwavering commitment, Mydei's movements turned deliberate once more, a warrior's focus honed on seduction.

His larger frame enfolded yours as he guided you into a prone position, the plush mattress cushioning your descent. On his knees beside you, he took a moment to admire the beauty of your submission before him.Reaching across your body, his hands roamed up your arms, the soft hair there catching his attention.

He trailed two fingertips slowly along the inside of your upper arm until they reached your shoulder, giving it a gentle squeeze. Then, he proceeded to retrace his path along your tricep, down to flex and twitch with each movement under his touch. "Like steel in velvet," Mydei whispered, impressed by the resilient, lithe strength underlying your slender form. His other hand echoed the tender caresses, only now venturing along your inner thighs to tease the soft skin there with languid brushes of his fingers.

“W-Why can’t you put it in already?” you asked him, as you wiggled your butt impatiently.

His low chuckle reverberated through the air, a rich, warm sound that made your skin prickle with anticipation. "So eager," he murmured, shaking his head in wry amusement. "Patience, my love. We have all night." A teasing finger trailed up your inner thigh, circling the junction of your thighs before disappearing from view once more. "Besides, I told you, I want to make it special. Take my time to drive you wild, to have you screaming my name when I finally make you mine." His heated words were punctuated by the press of his lips against your earlobe, a fleeting caress that sent a shivering thrill down your spine.

Mydei's other hand still roamed skillfully over your skin, gradually turning his attention to your buttocks. His touch gentled, though no less sensual, as he explored the curves and contours just before he had you presented him."So perfect," he breathed, voice laden with an unmistakable hint of lust. Then, without further delay, he took you, burying himself to the hilt within your heat with a guttural groan of pure bliss."Fuck, you feel amazing," With that, he pulled out nearly to the tip before sliding back in, establishing a relentless rhythm designed to drive you wild.

Each powerful thrust claimed a piece of you, the sensual onslaught building with unyielding intent. The sound of his groans and your own wanton cries filled the room, punctuated by the slapping of skin against skin as he relentlessly pounded into your sweet, welcoming warmth.

Mydei angled his hips to stroke deeper, grinding against that one perfect spot within you that made stars burst behind your eyelids."Come on," he growled against your shoulder, "let it wash over you, give yourself to me completely."He nipped at your earlobe, the rough hairs of his jaw scraping delicately against your skin as he punctuated his words with deep, probing thrusts. "Remember, I'm all for you here."Mydei wrapped his arms around you snugly, pulling your back flush against his chest as he continued his sensual assault. His free hand snaked around to palm your breasts, his thumbs rubbing the distended nipples in sync with his relentless thrusts.

You cried out loud and moaned, your eyes rolling back to your head as you bit down your bottom lip. He felt every shudder, every muffled cry against your bitten lip, and it only fueled his unrelenting drive. Powerful, measured strokes plunged him deep into you, stroking along the tight, gripping walls of your heat with unyielding intent. The room echoed with your mingled moans and the rhythmic slap of skin, a primal symphony that painted the air with your combined passion. "That's it, take it all," Mydei groaned, his low voice vibrating against your ear as he angled his hips to reach the deepest, most sensitive spot within you."So fucking tight, so perfect," he grunted, his fingers pinching and rolling your nipples in time ith his plunging thrusts. "Give in to me, completely. Let me feel you come apart on my dick." His demand was voiced with a raw, primal urgency that resonated deep within your core, sparking an almost frenzied response within you.

Mydei cupped your breasts more firmly now, kneading the pliant flesh as he rode you harder, driven by the need to claim this shared bliss, to merge your bodies and souls in a frenzy of pleasure and completion.

Your tongue rolled out of your mouth, forming a lewd expression all over your face.

The wanton display of your expression – open-mouthed, wide-eyed, utterly lost in the throes of passion – sent a surge of primal desire through Mydei. He could hardly tear his gaze from the mesmerizing sight, your face a testament to the all-consuming pleasure he was instigating within you. Leaning closer, he claimed your mouth in a hungry, dominating kiss, his tongue delving deep to stake his claim even as his hips continued their relentless pounding. He was determined to coax every last shred of ecstacy from you, to drink in the depths of your surrender, your release at his hand. "That's it, I want to see you unravel," he growled against your lips, his fingers digging into the soft flesh of your breasts, twisting and tugging at your hardened nipples.

"Come for me, baby, fill me up with your sweet, slick heat." With that fervent command, he dipped his chin to suckle at the sensitive bud of your other breast, swirling his tongue around it as he pounded into you, expertly targeting lip that elusive sweet spot within.

Feeling your walls clench tighter around him, sensing the tsunami of release cresting inside you, Mydei intensified his assault. His hands roamed your body, kneading and teasing every sensitive patch of skin until you were writhing beneath him, mindless with need. He alternated between long, deep strokes and quick, sharp thrusts, each designed to push you closer to that precipice of pure, uninhibited bliss.

The room was filled with the cacophony of your joined moans and the carnal slap of flesh against flesh, an almost tribal chant of primal satisfaction. Mydei's breathing became labored, his eyes burning with a fierce, possessive light as he watched you teeter on the edge."Give it to me, now," he commanded, his thrusts becoming choppy and urgent as he pursued his own crescendo. "Fill me, baby, drown me in your heat, your ecstasy. Let me feel you shatter for me." His fingers sank to the roots of your hair, tugging firmly as he plunged into your depths with renewed vigor, his cock throbbing and twitching with impending release.

You hit your climax, As you surrendered to the all-consuming release, your inner walls spasming wildly around him, Mydei felt the world narrow into a singular focus—your exquisite pleasure. He thrust into you one final time, burying himself to the hilt as your heat threatened to suck him in. Your cry, a sweet, high-pitched gasp, became the catalyst for his own explosion.A low, primal growl rumbled through his chest as the first pulses of his climax crashed over him, his essence flooding your welcoming depths. Mydei's eyes rolled shut, a bead of sweat trickling from his temple as he rode out the intense waves of ecstasy.

His hands, still tangled in your hair, fisted, releasing their grip. The sensation of his pulsing heat filling you, the sheer, primal essence of being fully claimed, overwhelmed you both. For a moment, there was only the breathless, sated stillness of the aftermath. Then, Mydei's lips brushed your ear, his hot, raspy voice whispering his approval. "Perfection," he murmured, nuzzling into the crook of your shoulder as he slowly withdrew, his softened length glistening with your combined essence.

Mydei couldn't help but chuckle, the low rumble vibrating through his chest as he rolled onto his back beside you, pulling you into the crook of his arm. He lazily trails his fingers up and down your spine, the gentle caress lulling you further into relaxation."So responsive," he notes, a faint smile playing on his lips. "You'll have me addicted to this sight in no time, love."

As your breathing evens out and your eyelids grow heavy, Mydei tenderly brushes a stray lock of hair from your face, his thumb absently stroking your cheek. He studies your peaceful, contented features, a softness in his eyes that belies the fierce warrior he is when battle calls. "Rest now, my sweet," he whispers, his voice a soothing murmur in the warm, intimate aftermath of their encounter."I'll be right here when you wake, ready for round two, if you are." With that promise, Mydei closes his own eyes, the sound of your gentle snores a comforting accompaniment to his own slowly deepening slumber.

[radish-art]

I spent all of January making this 2ftx2ft diorama for a show! I'm so glad I finally made something like this, but also SO glad to be done - everything took a lot longer than anticipated, and I ended up doing some looong hours on this in the final week to get it done in time. Everything except for the cast iron pot, glass jars, and natural objects is handmade. The mice are needle felted with polymer clay parts, I threw actual miniature ceramic dishes and cups for them, I built their home out of so much styrofoam trash and newspaper and air dry clay, I built and upholstered their furniture...

Big shoutout to @prawnlegs and @sheydgarden not only for tolerating the huge mess I made while making this, but also contributing little items: Jey made the brooms, fireplace poker, candle, and spinning supplies, and Ezra made the table and extremely majestic grub!

[cheshitora]

P S Y C H O x K I L L E R

on the stand :: sanzu x afab!reader

what's going on :: there's a lot of ways to describe an ideal relationship. what you and sanzu have is not ideal, especially when you plot his demise on a day to day basis. not that he minds though (2.04k words)

beware of :: MDNI!! DARK CONTENT!! aged up characters, nsfw, smut, fem reader, murder (a lot of it), attempted murder, mentions of murder, mentions of blood, p in v, dubcon (kinda?), immortal sanzu, sanzu loves a murderer (aka you), creampie, masochism (eh yeah kinda), you light him on fire lol :: if i missed something, pls lmk 🙏🏻

che's thoughts :: uhmm.. this was on a whim. anyways, this was how 'eternal sunshine' was supposed to turn out: dark and morbid lol. anyway enjoy

Flick. That’s the sound a lighter makes when you ignite it, the small flame coming to life in your hand as you lower it towards the ground. Your eyes flicked up to your pink haired lover sitting inches away from you, back against the wall, cocking an eyebrow at you as he waited for your next move.

Slowly, you tilted the ignited lighter closer to the pretty line of gasoline, treading so perfectly to his awaiting form. With one last breath, you lit the petrol, flames immediately trekking towards the direction of the man who he leaned back patiently against the wall, eyes dull and bored, waiting for death, his next death, his sixth death to be exact.

Or was it seventh? Maybe eighth? You weren’t sure anymore - you lost track after the third or fourth time.

You stared on in anticipation, hoping this time, he’d finally die. He hadn’t fought against you - he didn’t cry or shout, didn’t even flinch. He just sat there, the fire catching his shoes, crawling up his legs until his whole body was doused in flames, his dull eyes and pink hair disappearing from your line of vision.

It was strange though. There was no smell of burning flesh, no foul smells or screams of agony, just the smoke of the growing fire filling the space, forcing rough coughs to emit from your chest.

As the blaze increased in height, you started to wonder how much longer it would take for your house to burn down with it, the thought forcing you out of your stupor. Shock and realization quickly came over you as you hurriedly ran to the kitchen towards the sink, falling to your knees, flinging open the cabinet doors, hands frantically grasping at the neatly hung fire extinguisher. You yanked the hard metal out of its hinges, the sound of clattering screws hitting the floor echoing in your ears.

You nearly tripped on your own feet as you hastily made your way back towards the burning man, still sitting patiently against the wall, the towering inferno swallowing him as it ate away at the drapes of your windows and the floral wallpaper that lined the walls of your dining room.

Extinguisher in hand, you aimed the nozzle towards the man on fire, swiftly dislodging the safety pin. You aimed the nozzle again at the heart of the storm, squeezing the lever hard in your hand, water spraying out of the beak to douse the flames.

You swung the nozzle around, hoping and praying you hadn’t just doomed yourself by setting your boyfriend on fire and therefore possibly setting your house aflame as well. Your palms began to sweat, the radiating heat of the dying pit warming your body above normal levels. It took just a few more minutes for the flames to die out, black smoke filling your lungs as you hacked, fanning the fumes away from your face as you hopelessly tried to discern the state of the pink haired man you set on fire.

Though, to no surprise at all, Sanzu was rooted in the same spot: untouched, unharmed, unfazed, just soaked head to toe from the water used to kill the now extinguished flames. He cocked his head towards you, droplets of water dripping down his face and hair, his lips curling into a cheshire-like smile, the scars at the corners of his mouth more prominent than ever, almost like he already guessed the outcome of your plan. Your eyes widened in disbelief before you furrowed your brows, drinking in the sight of his unafflicted state, the extinguisher clattering to the floor as you released it from your grip.

He smiled wide at you, eyes crinkling in elation from the sheer amusement at your attempt to murder him once more.

“Nice try, but it looks like you’ll have to try a little harder next time,” he jested.

“Next time, huh?”, you thought. It’s been four months. Four months of you trying and failing to kill the son of a bitch, not that you had much of a chance to begin with.

Sanzu stood from his spot, wringing out his drenched shirt, water splashing onto the slippery, tile floor, vapor still lingering in the air. He ran a hand through his pastel hair, combing back the wet pink strands as he stepped towards your figure where you stood, discontentment written on your face from your failed act of homicide. He stood tall and proud in front of you, squatting down to meet your gaze, studying the look of disappointment etched across your features as he smiled.

“Jeez, if you’re gonna be mad about it,” he said half jokingly. He knew you were pissed, that you had messed up, once again, to end his immortal life.

Then again, he was already dead. How much more damage could he possibly take, especially by your mortal hands? He reached his hand out, patting your head playfully, as if to assure you your hardwork and determination was not going unnoticed. In an act of tenderness, he brushed his lips against your temple, his lips soft and eerily gentle, whispering praises against your hair, telling you just how proud he was of you for trying again despite your initial hesitancy at first. However, it was going to take more than just setting his body on fire for you to exterminate him, not that you wanted to anymore.

But what else was there left to do? Since the start of your budding relationship, you had utilized every tactic and practical method at your disposal to dispose of him, even if you were aware your efforts were futile.

You’ve stabbed him multiple times across his body, dismembered him limb from limb, cut off his head with an ax, electrocuted him while he showered, poisoned his favorite snacks, dropped heavy bookcases and furniture on top of him, drowned him in the bathtub - you even once lured him out into the surrounding woods to shoot arrows at him, as if he were prey and you the hunter.

Every time you plunged your steak knife into his thin body, you felt his blood splatter on you, the dark red liquid marinating your clothes and the hard surface of the floor, driving your very sharp knife into his weakening body, his face never contorting in pain as you ended him, much to your own confusion.

You remembered the way his body went cold and limp when he stopped thrashing against your grasp, hands pressed firmly on the back of his head to keep him down into the flooding bathtub, water filling his lungs to max capacity, leaving no room to breathe. You shivered as your hands retracted from the icy cold water, standing slowly, legs trembling, inching carefully away from his lifeless body. A harsh, shrill scream escaped your mouth and reverberated off the walls of the bathroom, his head lifting from the water, gasping desperately for air before he proceeded to laugh maniacally, panting and raving as his essence came back to him.

“You almost had me there,” he cackled, his pink hair matted against his forehead, water pouring down his crazed face. You could only stare in horror, heart pounding mercilessly in your chest before you fainted, the image of his manic eyes burning into your memory forever.

Even now, as you watched your lover sling his soaked shirt over his head, revealing his lean and toned torso, you wondered why you were trying so hard to kill him.

Perhaps it was because he’s immortal, rejuvenating his body to perfection each time you drained the life from him. What made you question your brash actions more was the way he never fought back, even when you pinned him to the ground and bashed his brains in with his own pipe that he used for fights, he never fought against you. Instead, he would stare fondly at you, only adoration in his eyes as he felt his life slipping away, the lights in his pale orbs dimming with the image of your determined face plastered in the halls of memories.

The way this man loved you was morbid to say the least, since he willingly allowed himself to be murked by you any chance you got - and he let it happen, whether he saw it coming or was blindsided by your actions.

In your own sick and twisted fashion, the numerous attempts at his life were your own mode of expressing your love for him, though in some instances, like when you caught him in a bear trap and left him for dead, he had simply pushed your buttons and drove you to act rashly - though he had clearly seen the trap and “fell into it”.

By the time four months came around, you became accustomed to trying to kill him, in any method you could think of. If the system was creative enough, he’d praise you lavishly, oftentimes slamming you down against his desk, stuffing his fat cock between your fluttering folds, his hard thrusts eliciting sweet moans from your parted lips.

He’d lean down into your shaking frame, his breath hot against your ear as he hungrily told you how much he adored your creativity and will power, how you never failed to surprise him every time you tried in vain to kill him. You could never get a word in, not when his hand snaked down to your dripping cunt, fingers rubbing concentric circles against your wet pussy, his other hand gripping your hips tight, deep crescents forming as he dug his nails into your supple skin.

Your hands gripped the edges of his desk, nails digging and scratching at the mahogany, tears streaming down your reddened cheeks from his brutal pace, the sound of his balls slapping against your aching cunt bouncing off the walls.

“How many times are you going to keep trying to kill me baby, hm?” he questioned, his voice teasing, taunting you as his hand moved faster against your sensitive bud.

The words were stumped in your throat, loud, high pitched mewls and whines seeping passed your lips as you creamed on his dick for the third time, the force of your orgasm knocking the air out of your lungs as you laid slack and limp atop his desk, drool pooling onto the surface of the desk, panting heavily, mouth agape, his hips still pistoning tirelessly.

“S-Sanzu.. enough..,” you eked out, your voice hoarse from screaming just a few minutes ago.

He didn’t listen; he never does, especially when he has you bent over so deliciously for him, so willing. And the sight of your tired, pleading face only spurred him on, his cock twitching in excitement.

His large hands pressed your hips roughly into the hardwood, a cynical laugh emitting from his chest as he stared down at the exhausted state of you, plunging himself deeper into your cunt, your pussy squeezing tight around him, sucking him in deeper and deeper. With a final, hard thrust, causing you to scream out, your throat burning from the scratching pain, he painted your tightening walls white, his cock filling you to the brim with his seed, a low, guttural groan releasing from his mouth as he continued to fuck you through his orgasm, a rush of ecstasy coursing through his veins.

“F-Fuck..,” he choked out, slowly pulling his now flaccid cock out from your weeping folds, his cum dribbling out in a steady river, a smirk tugging at his lips.

He leaned over you once more, his body looming over you in a possessive manner. His lips traveled up the nape of your neck, hovering just above your ear to praise you again, a satisfied grin stretching across your face.

By tomorrow, you’d have found another to kill him. He could already see the wheels turning in that pretty head of yours as he left you on the desk, cum trickling down your thighs, already plotting tomorrow’s murder plan. You may have been wrecked to the bone, in no position to move your sore body but it didn’t matter. By tomorrow, you'd surprise your boyfriend again with another creative plot, hoping to receive more praise, hoping he’ll be proud of you once more.

God, how you really loved your boyfriend.

©ABOVE WORK BELONGS TO CHESHITORA. PLAGARISM AND STEALING WILL NOT BE TOLERATED. CHARACTERS BELONG TO THEIR ORIGINAL CREATORS

[thelastspeecher]

Stanuary '25 - Week 4: Healing

I'm a day late but I'm still here! I figured I'd set this one in my Purposeful Abduction AU, in which Ford insists on being abducted by aliens and starts a life on an alien planet as a doctor. Meanwhile, Stan gets abducted by alien traffickers, and manages to escape, but is in very poor shape when he winds up at Ford's hospital.

This prompt is perfect for the AU, and gives me a chance to write Stan's recovery. Which, uh, I wrote a lot of. A lot more words than I thought I would.

Enjoy.

———————————————————————————————————–

              Stan hunched over the sterile, futuristic toilet, trying to fend off another wave of vomit.

              “Are you doing all right in there?” Ford’s voice called. Stan retched again, but nothing came up. He groaned loudly. The door to the tiny hospital bathroom opened.

              “Didn’t say you could come in,” Stan mumbled. Ford pulled him up. Stan’s legs, weak from poison and malnourishment, buckled under him once he was on his feet. “I can make it back to the bed.”

              “Sure,” Ford said, infuriatingly patient. He helped Stan back to his hospital bed. Stan immediately curled up into the fetal position, shivering.

              “You poisoned me, I know it,” Stan muttered under his breath.

              “The opposite,” Ford replied. “The antidote for the toxins you ingested yesterday has strong side effects.”

              “Ugh.”

              “Press the call button if you need to be helped to your bathroom again,” Ford continued. Stan rolled over to glare at him. Ford didn’t react, annoyingly remaining in professional doctor mode. “I’ll increase your fluids to compensate for what you’ve been losing from vomiting.” Finally, Ford looked up from the hologram screen of his clipboard. “Get some rest.”

              “Not much else I can do.”

              “Then you should get very good at it,” Ford said shortly. He turned on his heel and walked out of the room. The door closed behind him. Stan curled up into a ball as his eyes drifted shut.

-----

              The mysterious liquid concoction in the cup in Stan’s hand was purple. A deep, rich purple. Stan looked up at Ford and the fish-headed alien that Ford had brought in as a “refeeding specialist”.

              “You said this was a chocolate milkshake,” he croaked. Like the rest of him, his voice had taken a beating from malnourishment and poisoning. He hadn’t smoked a cigarette in months, but sounded like he went through a pack a day.

              “It is,” Ford said. Stan shook his head.

              “Nuh-uh. You put blueberries in this or something.” After a day in intensive care, he’d been moved to a general care room, to begin treatment that would help him recover properly. Now that he was no longer in danger of dying.

              “Blueberries don’t exist on this planet.”

              “But chocolate does?”

              “Yes!” Ford said, sounding exasperated. “Centuries ago, visitors to Earth collected chocolate plants and brought them back here. The different environment, however, results in cacao beans that are blue, not brown.”

              “This is purple.”

              “The roasting process turns- oh for the love of-” Ford pinched the bridge of his nose. “Just drink the damn thing. Dr. Quartir is a very busy fish who took time out of its day to observe you consume something for the first time in months.”

              “Not the first thing I ate in months,” Stan said under his breath. “I ate that poison hot dog. That’s why I wound up here.”

              “Stop being difficult. You know what I mean. If you keep this down, it will be the first step in being able to eat properly so you can get back to normal. Don’t you want that?” Ford snapped. Stan stared down at the milkshake again. He swallowed.

              “Yeah, I do.”

              “Then drink the damn thing. Slowly.”

              “Bottoms up,” Stan mumbled to himself. His stomach churning, from either nerves or anticipation, he didn’t know which, he brought the cup up to his mouth. The taste was heavenly. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d tasted chocolate so rich. Stan’s eyes widened. He tilted the cup back at a higher angle.

              “Slowly, Stan,” said the fish doctor in its papery thin voice. Stan reluctantly took a small sip instead of the massive gulp he wanted. “Good.” Stan finished the rest of the drink. When he was done, Ford took the cup from him. Dr. Quartir tapped the watchlike band on its wrist. “I’m going to set a timer. If you don’t vomit before it goes off, we can officially introduce ingestible fluids into your diet.”

              “Excellent. Dr. Quartir, should we talk in the hall?” Ford said. “Perhaps give Stan some privacy in case he doesn’t keep it down?”

              “Yes,” Dr. Quartir said. The two exited the hospital room, leaving Stan alone.

              Stan laid back on his bed to stare up at the ceiling. The possibility that he might finally keep something down at this point felt as likely as summiting Mt. Everest.

              But as the minutes passed by and Stan’s stomach didn’t eject its contents, his hopes rose.

              Finally, the door opened. Ford and the fish walked inside.

              “Well?” Ford asked. Stan sat up, unable to fight the grin spreading across his face.

              “Keep the milkshakes coming.”

-----

              Stan grabbed the twin rails. Taking a deep breath, he pulled himself up out of the hover chair to wobbly stand on his feet.

              “Excellent, Stan, but remember, you have to use your upper body and lower body strength,” said the physical therapist, whom Stan had mentally dubbed Dr. Hardass because he couldn’t remember her alien name. Her voice was robotic, thanks to the translator Stan had to wear to understand and be understood. She was green-skinned, and like the other members of this planet’s dominant species, over seven feet tall.

              Stan had to use the physical therapy equipment designed for children.

              “Even before everything happened, my arms were stronger than my legs,” Stan argued. Dr. Hardass shook her head.

              “Perhaps. But I imagine that your legs could still bear your weight and move you forward,” she pointed out. Stan grit his teeth. “We are focusing upon getting you walking. You cannot rely upon your arms. Now. Come towards me.” Stan muttered a few choice words under his breath. “Stan. If you do not start now, you may never do so.”

              “Fine,” Stan griped. He took a deep breath.

              Your arms are there to help, not to be the only way you stay up. Stan lessened how much he was reliant upon his arms. Immediately, being upright became a lot harder. Fuck. C’mon. You can do this. One foot in front of the other.

              The first step was agonizing. Stan felt like his knees were going to buckle. The second step wasn’t any better. He could practically hear his ankles screaming at him.

              Ultimately, Stan only made it halfway to Dr. Hardass before he had to call it quits.

              “You are doing better,” Dr. Hardass said as she helped him back into the hover chair. “You have a great amount of resilience. Much more than I usually see from my patients.”

              “...Really?” Stan said doubtfully. Dr. Hardass nodded.

              “Before you know it, you will be jogging again.”

              “I wasn’t a runner.”

              “But you did do some form of exercise recreationally.” Stan looked at her, surprised. “I can tell by how easily you understand my instructions.”

              “Oh. Yeah.” Stan looked down at the floor. “Yeah. I did boxing.” He sighed. “And I’d give anything to get back to it.”

-----

              The doors opened with a loud woosh.  Stan stepped inside and looked around, his eyes drinking in the sight of a gym on an alien planet.  Most of the equipment looked similar to what was on Earth, probably because the dominant species of the planet was very similar to humans.  But there were a few things that Stan couldn’t even begin to imagine how they’d be used.  Equipment that looked like bench presses or leg presses, but were in shapes that a human couldn’t physically make.

              The alien accompanying him, Ford’s brother-in-law Lute, chuckled.

              “Your brother had a similar reaction the first time I took him here.”  That got Stan’s attention.  He turned to face Lute.

              “You took Ford to a gym?” Stan asked.

              “He asked.  He was curious about how it would compare to one on Earth.  According to him, it’s very similar.”

              “Yeah.”  Stan looked at a nearby alien doing chin-ups.  The alien looked a lot like Lute to Stan, but he wasn’t sure whether that was because they were both blue. “Yeah, I’d say so.”

              “Ford told me that you have some experience in gyms.”

              “I was the sporty one,” Stan said.  He looked down at himself.  “I guess you’ll just have to believe I’m telling the truth,” he mumbled.  He was still in physical therapy, but now that he was just about fully functional again, his appointments were slowly being phased out.  Fully functional, however, wasn’t good enough for Stan.  Which was why he wanted to go to the gym.

              My legs and arms haven’t been this twiggy since I was five.  I’ve gotta get back to normal.  Or at least close to it.

              “Since you have some experience, I’ll let you lead the way,” Lute said brightly.  “You can suggest what exercises you’d like to do and I’ll let you know if you can do them safely.”  Lute, whose human nickname was apparently from him mishearing Ford’s attempted nickname of “Luke”, was a physiotherapist.  He wasn’t on Stan’s medical team, but due to his expertise, he was the only reason Ford was even allowing Stan to go to the gym.

              Stan didn’t respond well to Ford initially outright telling him he couldn’t go.  Luckily, Ford’s husband, Fiddleford, stepped in to suggest his brother going with Stan.

              I’d probably be lost without a guide anyways.  But it’s the principle of the thing.  I’m not a fucking kid.  Ford shouldn’t treat me like one.

              “Stan?” Lute said, breaking through Stan’s frustrated thoughts.  Stan looked at him.  “Where would you like to start?”

              “Uh…”  Stan rubbed the back of his neck.  He looked around again.  “It looks like most of the equipment here is too big for me.”

              “I would agree,” Lute said with a nod.  He put an arm around Stan’s shoulders.  “Don’t worry, I run into the same issue all the time.”  Though Lute was more than a foot taller than Stan, he was considered abnormally short for his species, as was his twin sister.

              “I was gonna ask if you guys have any boxing equipment, but that would probably be too big anyways,” Stan muttered.  Lute frowned at him.

              “Boxing?” he asked.  Ford had taught all his in-laws English, so Stan and Lute didn’t need to use a translator to communicate.  But every now and then, Stan would use a term that Ford hadn’t bothered to teach.  Stan sighed.

              “It’s the sport I did back on Earth.  It involves a lot of punching.”

              “Punching?!”  Lute looked shocked.  “That’s a sport on your planet?”  Stan nodded.  “Ford didn’t tell me that.”

              “Yeah, well, he wasn’t very good at it,” Stan said under his breath.  Lute snickered softly.  “I’m gonna guess you don’t have anything I could punch.”

              “Hmm.”  Lute frowned.  “No, there’s some equipment I can think of that would be beneficial to working the muscles involved in a punching sport.  Some of it is even accessible to your size.  This gym caters to multiple species, after all, and while my species doesn’t engage in bloodsport, some of the smaller species on this planet do.”

              Bloodsport?  Okay, whatever.  Focus on the important thing.

              “There’s stuff here that would help me get back to boxing?” Stan asked.  Lute tilted his head one way, then the other.

              “I believe so.”

              “Great.  Take me there,” Stan said eagerly.  Lute shook his head.

              “It’s too rigorous for you right now.  You need to start off doing something that you can do slowly and gently.”

              “Like what?” Stan grumbled.

              “Swimming, perhaps.  Do you like to swim?”

              “…Yeah.”

              “Great!”  Lute beamed at him, showcasing the haunting needlelike teeth that his species had.  “Then let’s go swim!”  He leaned in.  “Ford told me that our swimming pools are different from those on Earth.  Apparently yours aren’t on the ceiling?”  Lute shook his head in disbelief.  He began to walk away.  Stan stood still for a few moments, processing what he had just said.  Finally, he gaped and chased after Lute.

              “Your swimming pools are where?!”

-----

              “Yeah, Uncle Stan, punch that thing!”  Stan grinned at the encouragement from Ford’s oldest child, Proteus.  He slammed his fist into the punching bag, eliciting a cheer from his nephew.  “Wow!”  Stan stopped to catch his breath.  He wiped the sweat from his face and turned to face his small audience.

              “You’re good,” said Lee, Ford’s nephew via his sister-in-law, Angie.  And, depending on how things went, one day via Stan.  Lee looked like the other members of the dominant species on the planet, with the exception that he had human-looking eyes, a trait randomly inherited from his human great-grandmother.

              “Can you teach us?” Proteus asked.  He was technically adopted by Ford and Fiddleford, but thanks to his shapeshifting abilities, often looked like he could be their biological child.  That was the case today.  Stan had insisted if they came to Human Town with him, Proteus couldn’t take his natural shape.  Too many of the inhabitants of Human Town, a part of the capital city inhabited by abductees from Earth and their descendants, had negative emotions related to Proteus’s species.

              Including Stan.  The trafficker that had abducted him years ago was the same species as his nephew, currently staring up at him with starry eyes.  Stan would die for his nephew.  But still, seeing him in his natural state was too much.

              “I might be able to show you two a couple things,” Stan said idly.  “I mean, I’m the only one on the planet who can teach you.”  He winked at Proteus and Lee.  “I’ll even do it for free.”  Proteus and Lee giggled.

              After Stan had become healthy enough to get back into boxing, he’d run into the issue of there not being anywhere he could train.  The lack of opponents was another potential problem, but the more pressing one was Stan not being able to get his hands on a speed bag.  Luckily, one of Ford’s brothers-in-law was a carpenter, who knew someone that made custom exercise equipment and furniture.

              Then, one day while at a bar in Human Town, Stan mentioned his boxing equipment to someone.  That person happened to own the only gym in Human Town, and insisted Stan set up some demonstrations for any humans interested in learning about an Earth sport unheard of on this planet.  Things snowballed from there, and now, Stan had a steady job as a boxing trainer at the gym.

              Lee handed Stan his towel.  As Stan was drying off, there was a polite cough.  Stan dropped the towel and looked over at the doorway to the room.  Ford stood there, a wistful look on his face.

              “Hey, Sixer,” Stan greeted him.  Ford nodded his head.

              “I see the boxing is still going well.”

              “Oh, yeah.  Being an ‘exotic’ human that knows things about ‘exotic’ human culture is a pretty big draw around here,” Stan said.  Ford nodded.  “Have you told your kids you used to box, too?”

              “What?” Proteus said eagerly.  He looked over at Ford.  “Really?”

              “Our father signed us up for lessons when we were young,” Ford said.  “But Stanley was always better than me.”

              “Yep.”  Stan raised an eyebrow at Ford.  “We should put on an exhibition match.”

              “Ah.  No.”

              “Oh, c’mon!  We’d make a killing!”

              “I don’t have any interest in putting on an exhibition match with you,” Ford said firmly.  “You’ll just have to wait until one of your students reaches that skill level.”  He paused.  “Or until someone abducts a boxer.”

              “Second one would probably happen sooner,” Stan grunted.  “My students are too scared to put much power behind their hits.”

              “Such is the difficulty of teaching,” Ford said sagely.  Stan rolled his eyes.  “Proteus, Lee, are you ready to go?”

              “Yep!” Proteus said, hopping off the bench he and Lee had been sitting on.  Lee nodded and slid off as well.

              “Excellent.”  Ford looked at Stan.  ���Enjoy your date with Angie.  Where are you taking her?”

              “That hole in the wall place on Zerbz Street.”

              “Earthling Eatings?” Ford asked.  Stan nodded.  “I’ve never been.”

              “You’ve gotta go there sometime.  They’ve done some crazy sh- stuff with Earth food,” Stan said, barely remembering to censor himself.

              “It’s good!” Lee piped up.  Ford smiled at him.

              “Stan has taken you there?” he asked.  Lee nodded.

              “I went, too!” Proteus said.  Ford ruffled his son’s hair.

              “If it has the seal of approval from the two of you, perhaps we should go there for dinner sometime.”  Ford waved at Stan.  “I’ll see you after your date.”

              “Yep.  See you later.”

              “Bye!” Lee and Proteus called.  The kids and Ford left.  The large, circular door closed behind them.  Stan sighed.  He looked down at the electronic band on his wrist.  It almost completely covered the scar from his poaching cuff.  It was glowing slightly, signaling that he had a message.  He tapped the band.  A hologram display lit up above the band with the message from Angie.

              “I’ll be there in twenty.  I can’t wait to try food from your culture.”  Stan grinned.  He pulled up the hologram keyboard and typed out a response.

              “Make it thirty if you want me showered.”  After a few seconds, the reply came back.

              “Deal.”

              Stan waved away the hologram screen.  He grabbed his all-in-one soap and began to head for the showers, whistling.  His band chimed again.  He tapped on it.  The hologram screen popped up again, this time displaying a picture.  Stan froze.

              The bands required profile pictures for all users.  When Stan first got this band, it wasn’t long after he was discharged from the hospital.  Thus, the profile picture was of him near his lowest point.  His face was gaunt, his hair stringy, his skin pale.  He barely recognized himself then, and he barely recognized the picture as himself now.

              At the bottom of the picture was an automated message.

              “It has been two years since you set your profile picture.  Would you like to change it?”

              Stan went to press the button to open the camera.  He paused.  After a moment, he shook his head.  He closed out of the notification.

              “Nah.  I’ve got a date to get ready for.”

[twst-drabbles]

Divus 4

Summary: Class is over and you and Divus are hanging out in his classroom. Divus gives you his pointer and you used it against him for the fun of it.

(I look at Divus and think 'brat.' Both a brat and a brat tamer at the same time. How fun! Anyways, nothing explicit, no need to worry.)

The day was over and all the students are meandering about, doing whatever after class activities they've signed up for. Usually you'd be in your designated closet, setting up your cleaning cart, but you've had to help Divus with his class all day, so you're more than a little tired.

That and Divus insisted and you're not one to fight a break when you can grab it. If Dire throws a fit, you can throw him under the bus and make a quick getaway.

"Now then, I'd say today went well. Almost suspiciously so, it almost makes my skin crawl." Yeah you can see why. Imagine that, having rowdy students year after year, and suddenly this particular generation of students decide to start behaving. A change like that would rattle people of Divus's type.

"You were itching to punish a student, huh? Starting to miss your 'rowdy pups' I take it?" You stood up from your chair and gave a big stretch, popping a few spots in your spine. You sighed in relief then dragged your chair over to Divus's desk. You two will probably be chatting for a while.

"Haa… a little bit yes, but I have to admit, it's a good thing they're starting to listen to me more. Can't begin to imagine why that's happening though, not with the headmage that we have." Divus flicked his pointer back and forth as he sat down, as if longing to snap it against a desk. "It probably won't be long before I have to put this down, to gather time and dust. How sad."

"A tragedy." You almost expected him to start dramatically sniffing, but he prides himself on not being childish. He settled for a fake little frown. You held out your hand and on instinct, Divus gave you his pointer. "Did you pay a lot for this thing? Feel custom made."

The teacher pointers you've seen all have a uniform flavor to it, where you can easily imagine boxes upon boxes of the stuff inside a teacher's closet. This one though, you expected to have it's own fancy red velvet pillow right besides Divus's bed. It's perfectly polished, and now matter how much you scrutinized it, you can't find a single scratch. He really loves this thing, huh?

"Yes and it makes replacing it such a pain," Divus leaned on his hand, exhaustion covering him like a second fur coat, "but I say it's well worth the thaumarks. It matches me perfectly, doesn't it?"

You paused in your playing around with the white gemstone and looked towards Divus. He gave you a playful wink, as if to tease you for staring. With a deft hand, you snapped that pointer on the table, right on the space between his thumb and finger. Divus jumped a bit, eyes wide open as you stroked the cold golden pointer over the length of his neck. His throat bobbed, his smooth skin sparkling with a sudden light sheen of sweat. You stopped right under his chin. With a nudge of your hand, you forced Divus to look up at you.

There was silence, with only the sound of Divus's breath growing heavier. You didn't waver in the slightest as you held his gaze, his lips lightly parted as if anticipating something. Only when a lock of black hair fell loose from behind his ear did you smile. "Yup, suits you just fine."

Divus went stone still as soon as you took the pointer away and laid it on his desk. Within a few seconds, he rebooted, but the smile he gave back to you was stiff, as if clenching his jaw. His eyes thinned to a very nasty glare.

"Well, wasn't that a nice little prank. Would you like me to show you one of my own?"

"Yeah yeah, maybe later Divus, I know you're not angry at all." You waved him off as you settle back against your chair, stretching just a little bit more to get more parts of you relaxed.

Divus held onto that look for just a minute longer, probably hoping that you'll crack and take him seriously, but he deflated first with a shake of his head and a tired smile. "I really can't pull one over you, can I?"

"Nope. Now, can I hear more about your dogs?"

[beardedmrbean]

I love how everyone's all, "men don't need to act a certain way!" until some kind of conflict in the world breaks out. Then everyone needs men all of a sudden.

Was reading a thing about "chivalry" earlier, way it appears in people's minds is a massive mandala effect much in the same way bushido is, at least for the majority of it but that's a different ask, wiki has this bit in it.

Ernest Bax described chivalry as "the deprivation, the robbery from men of the most elementary personal rights in order to endow women with privileges at the expense of men" in The fraud of feminism (1913), and criticized the Ladies First that took place in the Titanic sinking.

Not on board with that particular quote from the guy, but we get another example with the 'ladies first' when the ship is sinking.

I don't think people will get angry or complain about prioritizing children, but with adults I can see the reason people would point out the issues.

That or we go with the old joke that they do that so the men can think about how to solve the problem in peace.

Or maybe the bit about that being something hard coded in our psyche, which I think that's more likely.

Back round to the initial point there,

It's hilarious that every time I've seen the proposal that would require women to sign up for selective service you get a combination of either this kind of reaction, or this kind of reaction.

All of a sudden against all historical evidence to the contrary we hear that these people have always been opposed to the draft.

Funniest thing on this one is that the last time the whole thing came to a vote in congress, it wasn't the left wing that voted against it.

Which I'm sure some people will call this reverse psychology, but that wouldn't explain the folks on the left pushing for it so that argument falls apart there. _______________________

This was way longer than I had anticipated it being, hope that's ok.

[merbear25]

LITERALLY BEGGING ON MY KNEES, can you do another part bodyworship headcanons with russia and romano

best boys NEED more love

Idk what happened but these came out much longer than I anticipated. And yes, they need more love! Hope you like them 💜💜

CW: NSFW, MDNI, gn!reader, headcanons, body worship, fluffy smut, some slightly rough, oral sex (male receiving), praising

Body worshiping them (Russia, Romano)

Russia

Oh he was incredibly shy when it came to showing his body. That didn’t mean that he was necessarily insecure, though. He simply preferred to keep things more private.

However, you were one of the few who really made containing himself strenuous. Despite that light blush across his cheeks as you touched him in ways only you were allowed, he had a burning desire raging within him.

Your soft hands rubbing his thighs, your gentle words of praise pulling him closer, and the look of mutual want dancing in your eyes: he was completely under your spell, although he went willingly.

“You’ve been working so hard lately.” 

He nodded at your soothing tone, his eyes fluttering shut as your hands rubbed his chest. 

“Let me take care of you for a change.” As your words still hung on your lips, your hands pulled at his shirt. 

While you unbuttoned them quickly, his breaths began coming out in desperate shakes. He moved his hips closer to you, urging you to give him attention where he needed it most.

Those lips of yours left a fire in their wake as they trailed down his bare chest. He made an attempt to silence his whimpers by biting his lip, but there was no masking the intense need he held towards you.

He shivered slightly as your hands lovingly roamed over his chest and stomach before eventually tending to the bulge pressing against his pants.

Releasing his length from its confinement, your eyes fluttered up to his. A soft purr came from you when met with his blushing cheeks and needy expression.

“You look so cute right now.” The soft compliment couldn’t be helped; you wanted him to know just how darling he looked for you in that moment.

As you took him in your mouth, you could feel his body tensing. A choked moan passed his lips the more of him you pushed deeper.

Feeling your hands grasp his thighs, hearing his lustful pants and groans: the desire to give him everything became overwhelming.

Even though he was mostly gentle with you, there were times he craved a rough edge to intimacy. He gripped the back of your head while giving a feeble “sorry” before he started thrusting harder. Your gags were controlled for the time being, but with his size filling your mouth more and more frantically, you were quickly reaching your limit.

The choked gasps and gags coming from you were enough to send him over the edge, painting your darling face and pretty lips with ropes of his cum. Looking down at you with immense satisfaction, he affectionately stroked your hair. The adoration he had towards you wasn’t always shown verbally; sometimes it was communicated through a soft touch.

Romano

Being a man who was far from comfortable showing his more vulnerable side, the tenderness that came with body worship took him far out of his comfort zone. 

He wanted to present himself as a macho man, one who didn’t crumble under such silly yet sincere praises or laughable yet longing touches—he craved this in actuality, though would never admit it.

The mood would have to hit him just right, as well. That edge he usually carried around with him put a damper on that sweet loving he needed deep down.

That being said when you were already wrapped up in each other’s arms in a seemingly innocent cuddle session, he was quite susceptible to your gentle praises.

“It feels so nice holding you like this.” This statement was enough to make him blush. Trying to hide his smile, he buried his face in your hair and pulled you closer.

The physical closeness gave you an obvious hint as to how he felt about your little words. Feeling his hard arousal against your leg, you didn’t want to withhold the affection he was clearly desperate for.

Your hands rubbed his hips before moving up his back. A shiver washed over his body, giving you more incentive to keep going.

His body got hot quickly, more so when he was aroused. Seeing him get like this from just your words made your heart swell for him. He was far too precious like this, but it wasn’t like you could just come right out and say that. Instead, you needed to bide your time, letting each part fall delicately.

As your hands roamed over his back, chest, and stomach, his grip on you tightened.

“You feel so warm.” A sigh of contentment followed your words, giving him all the more reason to open himself up to your own warmth.

The pressure against his shorts got you thinking he must be in some discomfort; the poor thing was aching for you to feel him. When you slid them off, he pulled his face away from the tight embrace. Watching you intently, he gasped as your hand wrapped around him. Whines of pleasure flowed past his lips with ease the more you stroked him.

You looked up at him and he instantly knew what you wanted. His face burned red at the mere thought, but he couldn’t deny how badly he wanted it too. With a slight, nearly bashful nod, he obliged to your mutual desires.

As soon as your tongue touched him, his hands instinctively went to place themselves on your head. He hesitated though, not wanting to appear too eager or worse—forceful. But, you were already doing such a good job. Your arms wrapped around him, your hands were caressing his trembling form as he neared the edge. His fingers timidly tangled in your hair as you worked him in all the ways he was desperate for. With an unabashed cry of release, his cum filled your mouth to the brim.

Despite his slight embarrassment, he still yearned for that intimacy from earlier. Wrapping each other up in an embrace again was the balm to his soul he’d never admit he needed.

[personalshredder]

the most canon accurate I've ever drawn them

[eighttalestale]

A totally not belated birthday gift for my amazing friend @achirding ❤️⚔️🖤

[serotonin-dose]

Dive into the Heart

Denji | Asa | Aki

[bluedeedeedoop]

Here is my part of a Barrissoka art collaboration i did with @alaira-artwho did the pose and setting of the piece, and i basically drew it in my style! go check out their version for sure!

[binthm]

in which angel dust and husk ask lucifer about his type considering lilith isn't around anymore and regret asking him that

edit: AHHHHH NOOO I JUST REALIZED I FORGOT THE STRIPES ON ANGEL'S BLAZER</3 y'all just pretend that one got lost in the wash and he had to wear a discount one 😔

[halfacupofmilk]

this is that vampire song right?

FAQ

why did you make this?

bc i thought that if lestat were real he would hate it and that's really funny to me

why did you use twilight and not any other vampire media?

i know twilight the best :( diagnosed w 12 y/o girl when the books came out unfortunately

how do you hold up your head since your brain is so big? does it hurt?

somehow i manage to survive another day thank you for asking.

why are you posting this at 2:30 am?

mind your business and watch the video again

do you take anything seriously?

.....

more edits to come soon lol

Song :

Long Face - The Vampire Lestat (/Sam Reid)

Media :

Twilight (2008) - Catherine Hardwicke

New Moon (2009) - Chris Weitz

Eclipse (2010) - David Slade

Breaking Dawn pt. 1 (2011) - Bill Condon

Breaking Dawn pt. 2 (2012) - Bill Condon

[ask-the-totally-real-peppino]

Wait why would you need to say sorry to Noisette?

Pep: "..."

Pep: "Reh ot deil I... I..."

(Flashback Begins)

Noisette: "Is someone out here? We are open!"

Noisette: "Omigosh, hi there!!! Come in, come in! There's no need to be shy!"

Noisette: "You're just in time for some fresh pie! Not that it was gonna go anywhere, since no one's come in today... But still! If that growl was you, you must be starving!!!"

Noisette: "Now you just sit right here! Don't move an inch! I'll be right back!"

Noisette: "Tada!!! I hope you like cherries! It's on the house!"

Pep: "...?"

Noisette: "Are you asking if it's for you? Of course, it is, silly! D'you see anyone else in here? Now, eat up! There's plenty more where that came from!"

Pep: *happy Pep noises*

Noisette: "Oh, I'm so glad you like it!"

Noisette: "Now, if you don't mind me asking, where did you come from? I haven't seen you around here!"

Pep: "..."

Pep: *uncomfortable gurgling*

Noisette: "Oh, do you not speak...?"

Noisette: "Well, that's okay! Do you know any sign? I'm pretty good at it!"

Pep: "...?"

Noisette: "Oh! I can show you some!"

Noisette: "I-I mean, if you'd like! If you wanna just have the pie and go, that's okay too, of course! Hah."

Pep: "..."

Pep: "...!"

Noisette: *happy squealing*

(Flashback End)

Pep: "Deneppah. Tsuj ti dna dekcinap I, eil ot naem t'ndid I..."

Pep: "Em. Gnieb yb gnihtyna niur ot tnaw t'ndid I, yppah dna dnik os tsuj saw ehs tub, reh llet ot gniog saw I..."

Pep: "'Lamron' eb ot retteb eb d'ti thguoht I."