#but it's been a while my dude

[dumbgoonpup]

🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸

Boys whose voices get higher and whinier while ur fucking them I love you. Boys who speak in a lower register when they're around their friends but lose control when they're begging and whimpering for me I love youuuu

🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸

[inkyami]

Kaeru nyōbō (蛙女房) — "frog wive", a shapeshifting character in Japanese folklore. The frog turns into a woman in order to marry a human man, but retains some of her froggy qualities — Kaeru nyōbō is very fragile, small, and is unable to do heavy work due to her little strength. The life with her can be perfectly ordinary and peaceful, unless the curiosity of a husband & family discovers her true nature, and she hops away.

The stories about frog wives exist all over Japan with some variations of the plot. The motive itself — of a girl "with a secret" and a family ruined by prying into it — seems to be extremely popular in Japanese folklore in general.

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[samwise1548]

Did a redraw of an old Martin doodle bc it seemed to be getting attention again today

———

[ID: A drawing of Martin Balckwood from the Magnus Archives. Martin is a fat white man with fluffy ginger hair and round blue glasses. He’s wearing a pink sweater with the a trans flag pattern along its sleeves. He’s looking off to the side bashfully while holding out some files. \End ID]

[dizzybizz]

ms jay herself (and apple)

[screwpinecaprice]

They won the lottery and inspired by Mr. Greg, they spent it all in one day by committing identity fraud.

Idk I took a second job and my brain is so fried right now. 😭

[mousebraintakeover]

one of a few twobrainses i drew from memory with his brain on the wrong side

[samarecharm]

Ryuji having the worst bi crisis of his fucking life bc his mom just had to fucking ask “oh, whats this young ladys name?” when he showed her a picture of Akira petting Morgana. Like okay yeah Akira is like objectively pretty, hes like the Classic Delicate Pretty Boy just like Yusuke which is like whatever; straight dudes have eyes, and they know what women like to see. But now hes like. Seeing things he likes in girls IN Akira now and he cant make it Stop like its genuinely keeping him up at night 😭

Pretty boy used to be A Face that would come up in his mind when he thought of the term. There was no specifics in mind, just like. Pretty Boy. Pretty boy! You say that and theres like a Face Template that shows up in ur minds eye and hed just attribute that to any dude who was like Vaguely Pretty. But now its Akira 😭 and he finds himself cataloging things that Akira does that he KNOWS he finds cute when girls do it. The hairtuck behind the ears. The headtilt when he mishears a question. The Actually Pretty Doe Eyes. The breathy, nearly inaudible chuckle he does in place of a Real laugh (thats made better by the fact that its so hard to get him to laugh in the first place). He likes cute snacks. He blushes easily. Ryuji is sitting here like ‘theres no fucking way man. Like theres just no way. That shit makes NO sense (a lie)’ lying in bed in the middle of the night looking like this vvvv w his phone in his hands (looking at pictures of akira)

It drives him insane bc like he did Not see any of these things as like inherently girly or whatever. Like thats just akira thats just his bro! And he does OTHER weird shit that cancels all that shit out. Hes like a messy engineer/tinkerer, he rolls out of bed and whatever situation his hair is is everyones problem. He wears that AWFUL gym uniform and doesnt tweak it AT ALL?? He likes baseball?? hes got a whole binder of trading cards that he will show off if u show any moment of weakness. Like hes just Some Dude but also manages to be Some Girl at the same time and Ryuji is like thats not fair. Life sucked ass but at least it made sense before Akira stumbled into it 😭

[itsdefinitely]

could you pretty please perhaps draw Richie x Jason 🙏🙏💗

kyle put him up to this

[ricky-mortis]

Have some Ted doodles- as a treat.

[hauntedestheart]

Confidence Booster (Male Bodyswap)

Part 1:

Hector Rivera had woken up that morning in bed missing forty pounds of muscle, six inches of height, and four inches... somewhere else. So already that was a bad start to his day- but then when he'd stumbled into the bathroom and looked into the mirror, it had gotten a whole lot worse.

Ray Baldwin. He'd been turned into fuck Ray Baldwin! He didn't have anything against the guy but he was just so... not like Hector.

In many ways the two were complete opposites: while Hector was bold and outgoing, a natural leader, Ray was more reserved and docile, a meek follower. These personality traits extended to their physicalities as well, with Hector being a towering specimen of manhood (built like a brick house) while Ray was short and slender (a textbook geek, pun intended). And now Hector was short and slender while Ray... where was Ray?

As a small blessing, Hector had still been in in his own bedroom, but everything looked out of place because of his shorter vantage point and it made him feel a bit like an intruder. His phone was still on the bedside table where he'd left it before and when he finally got his wits about him to check it he found a barrage of texts from Ray waitinf for him. While most of them were panicked nonsense, Hector gathered from some of the more sane ones that Ray was making his way over on foot. Meaning Hector's body was out there wandering the streets without him!

Of course Hector wasn't going to sit around and wait- he set out to meet Ray halfway. Mortifyingly, the only thing he had that fit his new body were an old hoodie that a girl had left at his place and a pair of athletic shorts that managed to stay up when he tightened the drawstring all the way (and even then they still hung down past his knees), but he didn't have any other options so he gritted his teeth and walked out the door dressed like a clown. He was halfway to Ray's place when he spotted a tall brown hunk stumbling down the street with a confused look on his face- Hector's face.

He'd choked on air at the sight of his real body- he couldn't believe the outfit Ray had crammed his body into! The white tank top was practically transparent, his nipples plainly visible as his pecs strained against the fabric, and the skimpy shorts left nothing to the imagination. His entire body was on display for anyone who walked by to see!

Being trapped in Ray's body was bad enough, but seeing his incredible body on display before him was just salt in the wound. The two men locked eyes, and Ray let out a little whimper.

"What the fuck are you wearing?" Hector hissed, staring in horror at the clothes the muscular young man standing before him was stuffed into.

Ray, seeming just as uncomfortable as Hector was, grimaced. "When I woke up this morning your body tore through my clothes and this was the only thing I had that fit." Ray crossed his arms for a little pout, which made his biceps bulge, and it was Hector's turn to grimace. "I lost the shirt I got on my trip to Texas! I loved that shirt."

"Will you forget about your old shirt? I look like a stripper playing a track and field star!" Hector lamented, eying the too tight shirt and the too short shorts distastefully.

"It's not my fault, it's this body!" Ray exclaimed. He threw his arms out to the side for emphasis, stretching them out to their full impressive wingspan. "These shorts are usually baggy on me but your body just has a lot more going on down there. You're just so... big."

Hector's face grew dark and his temples began to throb. How dare this guy talk about Hector's body like it belonged to him!

"I want my body back right now," he snapped, and Ray shrunk back.

"And trust me, I'd give it to you if I could!" Ray sounded completely genuine when he said this, a slight whimper to his voice as he shifted himself around. From the way he held himself it was clear that he was uncomfortable in his new body, and he confirmed it a moment later. "I feel like the Incredible Hulk right now in a bad way, I'm all... bulgey!" He shuddered as he said this, and then winced when the motion made his package jiggle. He sighed with exasperation and stomped his foot, gesturing towards the bulge in his shorts. "And I'm tired of this thing bouncing around!"

Hector gaped. "Dude, stop manhandling my junk in public!"

"Sorry, it's just..." Ray reached down and adjusted his crotch, pushing down on it in an attempt to flatten it out, but the soft flesh immediately bounced back. "How do you deal with this thing? It's always in the way!"

Ray frowned down at his new junk, barely hidden by his shorts, and he jostled it around as he searched for some mystical position that would make it go away. Almost defiantly, as if it were mad at the notion of being hidden, Hector's penis elected to grow instead.

The real Hector's eyes widened as he watched his old body growing aroused. "Dude, cover that up now!"

Ray stared in horror at the obscene bulge forming in his shorts, only semi-hard and already straining at the fabric.

"Oh no!" He shouted, doubling over and placing both hands over his crotch in a desperate attempt to block his growing erection from view. "Sorry, it's just, your penis is so much bigger than mine and I–"

Hector winced at the comment and shuffled uncomfortably, trying desperately not to think about what he'd seen when he'd taken a piss that morning. "Trust me, I'm painfully aware of the size difference."

"I'm so sorry Hector," Ray gushed, tears brimming in his eyes. "I didn't mean to disrespect you and-"

And then he started crying in earnest, which meant Hector was stuck with a six foot tall hunk wearing what was basically lingerie sobbing in the middle of the sidewalk with a full boner- he hated his life. It was early in the morning so the two were alone, but they were still on an open street, and Hector needed to calm Ray down fast.

"Stop apologizing, okay?" He said firmly, reaching up to grab his own shoulders and squeezing them with as much might as he could muster. Something about it must have gotten through to Ray because he paused in his sobs and looked at Hector, who did his best to smile reassuringly. "Look, it's just- I know we're both freaked out about this, but stressing out and losing our minds isn't gonna help anybody. We need to calm down, okay? Just, take a deep breath or something."

"A deep breath, yeah, okay, I can do that," Ray babbled, and then his massive chest heaved up and down. His breaths were frantic at first, but gradually, he relaxed.

"Feeling better?" Hector asked, and Ray nodded. "Okay good. Now, do you have any clue how this happened?"

"No, I just woke up this morning and I was like this! I had to sneak out the window this morning so my family wouldn't see me–" A panicked expression crossed Ray's face. "Oh no, what am I going to tell my family? I can't go home looking like this!"

"You aren't going to tell them anything, because if we tell them we switched bodies they're going to send us to the loony bin," Hector said firmly, and then he scoffed. "And by the way, looking like that is a goddamn blessing, okay? Show some respect to my body."

"Sorry, it's just–" Ray shuffled uncomfortably and fiddled with his hands, his meek body language looking rather out of place on Hector's hulking body. "I'm not really used to being a big guy like this."

Hector sighed and rubbed at his temples, fighting an oncoming headache. He may be small now, but he was clearly going to have to be the leader in this situation.

"Don't worry, we'll figure this out, okay?" Hector finally said, and Ray nodded in relief. "But until then, we don't do anything to draw attention to ourselves, okay? We just lay low for a while."

Ray smiled with his handsome new face. "Definitely."

Part 2:

Ray was not laying low.

Research into getting their own bodies back was going slowly (Google search results for "men switching bodies" just turned up online erotica) but perhaps it would be going faster if Hector had some help. Unfortunately, Ray was too busy making an ass of himself to pitch in... which normally wouldn't be a problem, except he was using Hector's ass to do it.

See, Ray had realized what Hector had known all along: being hot is fun. After the initial shock of waking up in a different body had faded, Ray had taken stock of what he'd gained in the swap, and he found he liked it.

For one thing, he had pecs now. Pecs. Huge slabs of muscle that jutted out from his chest that jiggled when he jumped up and down. Tight, perfectly formed, and with a pretty brown nipple at the peak of each- he hadn't been able to resist giving them a little squeeze, and he'd nearly fallen down when one of his fingers grazed one of his nipples and it sent shockwaves of pleasures throughout his body. His old sunken chest certainly hadn't been this fun!

And down below those pecs were the abs, which he was really a fan of. As a skinny guy, he'd always had a flat stomach, but he quickly realized there was a difference between having a flat stomach and having a toned stomach. Ray didn't know how many sit ups Hector had done in his lifetime to get those cheese grater abs, but he was glad he'd done them.

Big arms were nice too. Ray had a habit of scratching behind his head and he noticed that every time he did so eyes were always drawn the way his bulging biceps would flex when he lifted them- not that he could blame anyone for staring. It was a beautiful sight! Hector's arms were the part of body that belied his strength the most, almost intimidatingly large, and Ray quickly learned that many situations could be controlled just by crossing his arms and letting the muscles pop out.

The ass had taken a bit of getting used to (there had been several embarrassing incidents where he'd knocked things off of tables because he forgot to account for how much junk was in his new trunk) but Ray had quickly come to embrace it- in fact, he was embracing it often. He loved the feeling of the firm, supple flesh beneath his hands, which was surprisingly soft considering how tough the rest of Hector's body was. It was a proper bubble butt and it became Ray's favorite part to show off, ready to shake at a moment's notice.

And his new dick... Ray knew size wasn't everything, but he wasn't exactly opposed to getting an upgrade in that area. At first he'd been annoyed by the damn thing because it was nearly impossible to hide the bulge it made in his pants, and he felt like all eyes were on him when he was just trying to walk down the street. It wasn't his fault it looked like he was smuggling produce in his shorts!

But he didn't have to be self-conscious, he realized, because people weren't judging him. They were jealous of him. Lusting after him. They wanted what he had, one way or another, and he should be proud of it. So he stopped hunching over, stood up straight, and let everyone see what kind of man he was.

Not to mention the stamina of Hector's body was incredible. His cock was practically spring loaded, jumping to attention at the slightest hint of arousal, and being trapped in Hector's stupidly sexy body meant that Ray experienced that any time he so much as glanced down. He'd managed to hold out for two days before caving and seizing a hold of his manhood and pumping one out– and there was no turning back after that.

That orgasm had opened a floodgate in Ray. He already had a new body, but after that, he felt like a whole new man. And it turned out that man was a bit of a show-off.

While Hector was an outgoing guy, Ray had taken it to another level. He lost his shirt at any opportunity, eager to expose his new treasures to the world, and it was never long until his pants followed as well. It was excessive, but the sight of an adonis like Hector Rivera in his underwear, bulge swinging heavily, was something nobody wanted to complain about.

Invitations to parties and nights out were flooding in– everybody wanted to bring "Hector" along because sooner or later his shirt would come off... and he wasn't shy about letting people feel either. Ray was taking any opportunity he could to flaunt Hector's rippling muscles, and he was having the time of his life doing it.

The real Hector found it infuriating– one because Ray was making everyone in town think that he was an exhibitionist, and two because seeing his body flaunted in his face just reminded him of what he was missing.

If anything Ray was getting a bit too comfortable in Hector's body, which made the real Hector nervous. If Hector did find a way for them to switch back, would he even be able to convince Ray to take it?

Part 3:

"Ray, what the fuck do you think you're doing?" Hector shouted, stomping down the driveway towards where Ray was making a display of himself jumping rope. Ray gave him an unimpressed look.

"What's it look like I'm doing? I'm working out," Ray kept jumping rope, which made his ample chest heave up and down; the sweat on his tan brown skin caught the light and made him glisten. "I wanna keep this body in shape after all."

"Okay, but why are you doing it shirtless in my front yard?" Hector protested, glancing around nervously. A few of his neighbors were milling about, not-so-subtly enjoying the show Ray was putting on for them, and Hector waved at them to look away. "Everyone can see you!"

"So?" Ray shrugged his broad shoulders. "I'll give 'em something to look at. You know your chest bounces, right?"

He sucked in a deep breath and puffed his chest out, creating an impressive sight as his bulging pecs jiggled obscenely with each bounce, and the jump rope dropped the floor while his two hands slid up his body and cupped around his pecs. In full view of everyone he began to squeeze them, and as he did so he smiled fondly down at them like they were beloved pets.

"Stop feeling my body up like that!" Hector hissed, and Ray rolled his eyes but planted his feet on the ground and lifted his hands up, palms open. Hector huffed in relief. "Thank you. Now can we–"

"Sorry, just gotta stretch for a second–" Ray interrupted him, and Hector blinked. Then Ray reached both of his arms back behind his neck, muscles popping as he bared his armpits, and arched his back so his hips thrust forwards like a stripper. Through the thin grey fabric of his sweatpants, it was obvious he wasn't wearing underwear. "Oh shit that feels so good."

He squinted his eyes shut and gave a groan of relief that was louder than strictly necessary that echoed down the street, and a passing car nearly crashed into a stop sign. Ray relaxed to a more normal pose and threw the dazed driver a wave and a wink.

"That keeps happening," he chuckled as he watched the car speed off down the street. Then he threw one muscular arm behind his head, baring a sweaty armpit for the world to see, while the other hand rubbed absently at the six-pack on his belly.

Hector's mouth was wide open in shock at the shameless display before him– what had happened to the shy Ray he knew? Hector's face reddened and he grabbed at Ray's arms, attempting to pull them down and tug the man back towards the house, but with Ray's skinny frame he had no chance of moving his former body even an inch. He gave up and tossed his hands in the air in frustration.

"You've gone mad with power," Hector gasped out.

Ray shook his head and shrugged. "Chill out Hector, I'm just having a little fun."

"You're acting like a cam boy is what you're doing," Hector snapped, crossing his skinny arms and narrowing his eyes suspiciously. "It just seems like you're getting a little too cozy in my body... almost like you don't even want to switch back."

Ray's shoulders slumped, and for a second Hector could see a glimpse of the shy guy he was more familiar with.

"Look, for the last time, I didn't do this! I miss my family and I miss my life," Ray sighed, but then shook his head and drew himself back up. "But since it happened, I'm gonna take advantage of it! Do you know what it was like to go from that–" he pointed at his original body. "to this?"

He spread his arms out and spun around, allowing Hector to take in the full view of the body that used to belong to him. Ray hadn't been lying about taking good care of it- perhaps it was just that he was seeing himself from the outside now, but Hector's body looked better than it had in his entire life.

"I went from being a beanpole to having B-cup tits and an ass you could balance a latte on!" Ray reached out to the side and flexed one of his arms, the toned muscle rising into a small mountain. "Your arms are wider than my neck! And your abs are probably harder than my bones." He tittered with excitement, but then his smile softened. "Getting to be you has been incredible and I just... I wanted to enjoy it. But I'm not evil Hector, if you find a solution, I'll give you your body back. Until then though? I'm gonna enjoy every second of it."

Hector frowned. His time in Ray's body, robbed of all of his physical advantages, had been quite a bad time for him, and Ray had to live with that all the time. Could he really blame the little guy for going a bit over the top?

"Okay, I'm still mad at you for acting like a whore," Hector chastised, and he watched Ray shrink before him, which was comforting in a way. Even with their bodies switched, they were still the same guys inside. "BUT, I get it. You officially have my blessing to have a little bit of fun- while we look for a solution;"

"Really? Thanks Hector!" Ray smiled, yanking the other man into a bone crushing hug. Hector winced in pain, but returned the embrace with good faith. "Tell you what, why don't we go research how to switch back right now, okay? Just let me wash off first."

Ray released Hector and then grabbed the hose from off the ground and lifted it to his face, spraying the water dramatically into his face and shaking out his hair. Water cascaded across his nearly naked body, falling like a waterfall from his pecs and trickling through the ridges created by his abs.

Hector swallowed. "Any chance you can do it less... sexually?"

"Nope."

[inkskinned]

one of the things that's the most fucking frustrating for me about arguing with climate change deniers is the sheer fucking scope of how much it matters. sweating in my father's car, thinking about how it's the "hottest summer so far," every summer. and there's this deep, roiling rage that comes over me, every time.

the stakes are wrong, is the thing. that's part of what makes it not an actual debate: the other side isn't coming to the table with anything to fucking lose.

like okay. i am obviously pro gun control. but there is a basic human part of me that can understand and empathize with someone who says, "i'm worried that would lead to the law-abiding citizens being punished while criminals now essentially have a superpower." i don't agree, but i can tell the stakes for them are also very high.

but let's say the science is wrong and i'm wrong and the visible reality is wrong and every climate disaster refugee is wrong. let's say you're right, humans aren't causing it or it's not happening or whatever else. let's just say that, for fun.

so we spend hundreds of millions of dollars making the earth cleaner, and then it turns out we didn't need to do that. oops! we cleaned the earth. our children grow up with skies full of more butterflies and bees. lawns are taken over with rich local biodiversity. we don't cry over our electric bills anymore. and, if you're staunchly capitalist and i need to speak ROI with you - we've created so many jobs in developing sectors and we have exciting new investment opportunities.

i am reminded of kodak, and how they did not make "the switch" to digital photography; how within 20 years kodak was no longer a household brand. do we, as a nation, feel comfortable watching as the world makes "the switch" while we ride the laurels of oil? this boggles me. i have heard so much propaganda about how america cannot "fall behind" other countries, but in this crucial sector - the one that could actually influence our own monopolies - suddenly we turn the other cheek. but maybe you're right! maybe it will collapse like just another silicone valley dream. but isn't that the crux of capitalism? that some economies will peter out eventually?

but let's say you're right, and i'm wrong, and we stopped fracking for no good reason. that they re-seed quarries. that we tear down unused corporate-owned buildings or at least repurpose them for communities. that we make an effort, and that effort doesn't really help. what happens then? what are the stakes. what have we lost, and what have we gained?

sometimes we take our cars through a car wash and then later, it rains. "oh," we laugh to ourselves. we gripe about it over coffee with our coworkers. what a shame! but we are also aware: the car is cleaner. is that what you are worried about? that you'll make the effort but things will resolve naturally? that it will just be "a waste"?

and what i'm right. what if we're already seeing people lose their houses and their lives. what if it is happening everywhere, not just in coastal towns or equatorial countries you don't care about. what if i'm right and you're wrong but you're yelling and rich and powerful. so we ignore all of the bellwethers and all of the indicators and all of the sirens. what if we say - well, if it happens, it's fate.

nevermind. you wouldn't even wear a mask, anyway. i know what happens when you see disaster. you think the disaster will flinch if you just shout louder. that you can toss enough lives into the storm for the storm to recognize your sacrifice and balk. you argue because it feels good to stand up against "the liberals" even when the situation should not be political. you are busy crying for jesus with a bullhorn while i am trying to usher people into a shelter. you've already locked the doors, even on the church.

the stakes are skewed. you think this is some intellectual "debate" to win, some funny banter. you fuel up your huge unmuddied truck and say suck it to every citizen of that shitbird state california. serves them right for voting blue!

and the rest of us are terrified of the entire fucking environment collapsing.

[sleepy-steve]

🧠🪱 Wiggly Wednesday Thursday 🧠 🪱

thank you for tagging me @stervrucht 🖤

no pressure tags: @frankenstein-ate-my-left-shoe @stevesbipanic and of course anyone else that would like to ♡

thinking about Steve and Eddie who, after going through rounds of physical therapy after everything, continue to work out together because Steve obviously loves it and loves having a friend to work out with. and Eddie notices the difference in his stamina when he gets back to performing on stage. (and if Eddie likes to watch Steve work out a little bit, and likes Steve coming over to help his form more than a little bit, well that’s his business.) but Steve takes a dance class and shakes up his usual warmup, leaving Eddie with some… thoughts.

***

“Okay, Munson,” Steve says, pulling his arm across his body for a shoulder stretch. “You ready?”

“Ready to be tortured? Always,” Eddie jokes. It was their thing. Eddie acts like he hates being there, but he still shows up every other day to their local gym in Indianapolis. And he won’t ever deny the benefits he’s noticed since starting their exercise regime. He's faster on stage, doesn't get winded near as easily, holding those screaming notes without feeling like his lungs will explode. Little did he know that today his joke would come to be true.

Steve liked most kinds of exercise. He was a sporty guy. He liked the pull and stretch of his muscles, the feeling of accomplishment after achieving a new goal, that delicious soreness the day after a really good workout. But mostly he loved trying new things. He’d give anything half a chance if he thought it might be fun. Which is how he ended up at a dance-aerobics class the week prior, finding himself having a lot of fun, blushing furiously when the women in the class complimented how quickly he picks up the steps.

He went back three more times that week. Part of his enjoyment came from the new warmup he was taught in the class. Steve’s usual warmup consisted of basic stretches and a light jog, covering all bases to ensure he didn’t get injured, but not very exciting.

This, however, was far more enjoyable. Steve found himself sinking deep into stretches he didn't know he had flexibility for, and moving his hips to a beat, ultimately just having way more fun with the warmup. And it was about to become a huge problem for Eddie.

Steve pops his headphones over his ears, the tape deck tucked securely in his shorts pocket. He bends over, inhaling deeply as the song starts, rising up with his hands overhead, exhaling as he rolls his wrists, hips moving side to side with the beat. His already short cropped t-shirt rises, showing off a good amount of his chest. He lets his arms come down, bending over again, feeling the pull in his hamstrings. Gripping his elbows, he lets the top half of his body hang, swinging from side to side, his hamstrings fully stretched out.

Eddie looks up from his own basic stretching, shocked to see Steve fully bent over, because hey, since when was he so flexible? With Metallica blaring through his own headphones, Eddie just stares, completely forgetting where he was at in his warmup.

Steve lets his hands drop, moving to one foot, back to the centre, then the other foot. Ass just up in the air, his shorts way too tight. Eddie swallows. He’d been denying his crush for months at this point, and good god this was not helping.

Rolling his shoulders as he stands up, Steve lets his hands travel down his bare thighs, sinking into a squat with his back arched and head tilted back. Eddie's eyes are wide as he watches those tight little shorts with the little cut-ins on the sides ride up, showing far more of Steve's glorious hairy thighs than Eddie can handle. Steve drops his head forward, hunching his shoulders as he moves back to standing. He repeats the motions, and Eddie wishes he had the strength to pull his stare away from Steve's ass.

Seeing Steve's head tilted back and his back arched is sending Eddie insane. Like, he geninely thinks he might evaporate on the spot if he keeps watching. But he just can't look away.

Turning himself sideways, Steve has one foot stepped out in front of the other, legs perfectly straightened into a triangle shape, bent over his front leg. Just when Eddie thinks he’s about to get up and end his suffering, Steve lowers himself down into a lunge. His little shorts definitely way too small and tight for the movement, Steve lunges back and forth, fingertips resting on the ground on either side of his front foot. Eddie watches as the t-shirt rides up with each lunge, the desire to get his lips and tongue all over Steve's chest overwhelming him.

Shaking himself, Eddie tries to remember which shoulder stretch he was up to. He attempts something close to a stretch, but he can’t be sure he's doing it right, because Steve has lowered himself to the ground, front leg bent and back leg perfectly straight, and is fucking thrusting into the ground. If he were to ask Steve, he’d find out this was a hip flexor stretch. But Eddie’s forgotten how to form words entirely, suddenly imagining nineteen different ways he wants to get dicked down by the man before him.

Eddie suffers in silence, heart racing in his chest, watching as Steve repeats the movements on his other side. He prays that the torture ends soon, that they can just get to the workout, and Eddie can go back to pretending he doesn't want to ride Steve until his thighs give out. But Eddie gets no such luck.

Steve has moved into some kind of triangle position, hands on the ground, legs straight, and of fucking course, his ass in the air. Eddie marvels at how straight the shape is, only for a moment, because then Steve is lifting his heels up and down in turn, and jesus christ those tiny little shorts are just riding up, and Eddie can see a hint of Steve's ass peeking out. His jaw drops. He may actually explode.

Just when Eddie's thinking he can't take much more of this, Steve lowers himself down, knees spread wide, arms stretched out in front of him and head tucked down. A wild and rushed series of thoughts fly across Eddie's mind, all centred around Steve kneeling down in front of him. Eddie needs to get it together quickly.

As Steve brings himself back up to the triangle position, walking his feet to meet his hands and rolling his spine up, shoulders and head rolling back last, he sees Eddie taking off for his warmup jog. Assuming that he probably just took too long with his new warmup, Steve shrugs it off and starts his jog shortly after.

Eddie hits his personal best in several weights that day, desperately trying to expend his excess energy in some way. He barely registers the wins, mind still stuck on Steve and his perfect ass in all those new positions. He almost dissolves on the spot when Steve claps him on the shoulder in congratuations.

At the end of their session, Eddie takes a freezing cold shower and prays for the sweet release of death.

[mystickinz]

i dont think ive ever posted the updated tiny oliver here!!! new paint job + paint sealer to keep him safe :D

dont have a spinny thing so heres a makeshift turnaround too :D

[jessebutchman]

oh.... thats nu metal of my comfort character.... people feel the need to create nu metal of my comfort character because they hate him so much

[mushroomsie224]

Really leaning into the cartoonishness.

[we-dont-talk-about-potato-nonono]

Turbotastic 💥