#attention to mike’s experience w romantic love

[hawkinsp0st]

holy shit, this post just made something click for me.

both will and mike’s arcs have revolved around being separated from each other again and again and again.

every season they’re torn apart in some way, and one of them is desperately trying to get the other back—s1 physically, s2 spiritually, s3 emotionally, and again in s4 by physical distance…

yeah, their arcs are woven together and it went totally over my head. their happy ending is each other. it’s written this way.

#i can’t believe this is real life??? #byler #even mike’s arc…….yes el is a part of it bc she’s a main character too and their arcs are intertwined to an extent #but el spends most of her screentime each season dealing with the UD/lab/powers related stuff #not her relationship with mike #but nearly all of mike’s screentime away from el revolves around will and whatever current separation byler is facing #yeah holy shit. holy shit #el’s arc is about finding and accepting herself starting to heal her trauma & finding her real family #byler’s arcs are about falling in love. plain and simple #mike’s arc having two parallel love stories going on……….one with el and the other with will……….it’s done narratively on purpose to draw #attention to mike’s experience w romantic love #we’re supposed to be paying attention to that #i have chills. #narrative tag

[eddieeatsass]

7 and 21 for reddie😎 only if you want to❤️

Sex Magic/Sex Pollen + Blind Date from this prompt list

This combo was so interesting, it really made me wrack my brain to figure out how to meld these two concepts together. My friend Jack actually helped me come up with this idea, so thank you for making us both push the limits of our imagination!

Read On AO3

The System had been in place for nearly a decade; the population’s first ever completely computerized dating process. A computer took in all of your data, scanning your life history, your future goals, your medical status, as well as having each client fill out a ten page questionnaire. All of that information was then used to narrow down everyone in their database, giving you your most compatible mate.

There were two experiences you could choose from; The Classic, which involved a regular blind date, and The Neo, which ended with the release of their patented pheromone gas. Clients who chose the later would get to experience the sensuality and intimacy that usually resulted at the end of a successful date. Clients were able to opt out at any time during the date, if they decide they do not want to go through with the final step. Despite that, however, the public still argued about the morality of the consent issues that could arise from this practice.

Because of this outrage over the program, The Neo got used less and less over time. What was once new and exciting had now taken a back seat to The Classic.

Richie Tozier and Eddie Kaspbrak were two of The Neo’s first clients in months. Of course, the company couldn’t tell them that they’d only been paired together because they were the only two participants available, so instead, Richie and Eddie went into a blind date expecting to find their computer generated soul-mate.

It was a bright, sunny Friday afternoon when Eddie approached the dating center. He was welcomed warmly, and after reading through and signing all of the consent forms and legal documents, he was lead to a room. The building he’d arrived at was nice, the lobby had been decorated in a way that reminded its clients of why they were there; to find love. However, the room Eddie found himself in was starkly opposite.

It felt like he’d walked into a hospital. Everything was white, and the air smelt of disinfectant poorly concealed with the artificial smell of roses. In the middle of the room was a small square table, already set up with a table cloth, a candle, and two plates of pasta that couldn’t possibly be fresh. To the side there was a bed, barely big enough to fit two people but obvious in its purpose. Eddie was just considering bailing on this whole thing when he heard the door open behind him.

He turned to see a tall man stumbling in, eyes darting around the room before settling on Eddie. He was accompanied by the same worker who had brought Eddie in moments ago, but she quickly left with a curt nod, shutting the door behind them.

The two men stared at each other for one very long, very awkward moment, before the taller man took the lead.

“Hi, I’m Richie, you’re soul-mate, apparently.” Richie stuck his hand out towards Eddie, a charming but shy smile revealing a set of slightly buck teeth.

Eddie grasped his hand, shaking it timidly before deciding Richie was decently attractive. Definitely the type of guy Eddie would try and pick up at a bar. He was pleased with the introduction so far.

“I’m Eddie-” His voice was abruptly cut off by the crackle of a speaker.

“You’ve got thirty minutes before the gas will be emitted. If at any point before that you wish to end the date, you may discreetly press the button beneath the table, at which point one of our staff will be in to get you. Thank you for choosing The System as your dating course of choice. Good luck at your happily ever after.”

The voice was monotone, the disclaimer obviously rehearsed and recycled for every new date they supervised.

Eddie was quick to stifle his giggle, finding the contrast between the person’s lack of enthusiasm and the idea of finding your one true soul-mate hilarious, but unsure of how Richie would take it.

Surprisingly, Richie laughed unabashedly.

“Wow, with an introduction like that, how could we not be excited.”

Eddie let his giggle bubble up, soothed by the knowledge that Richie thought this experiment was turning out just as ridiculous as he did.

“Do you wanna see how terrible the food tastes?” Eddie asked.

“Eddie, my dear, nothing would make me happier.”

The food was awful, but that much shouldn’t be a surprise. This was a dating service, after-all, not a restaurant. The meals were probably made in giant batches, left to sit out all day and only being stirred or re-heated when necessary.

They poked at their pasta more than ate it, focusing instead on the conversation that seemed to flow freely between them. So far, Eddie had found out that Richie had recently moved to the city, was an only child but had a friend named Stan who he considered a brother, was trying to become an actor, and had a pet turtle.

“So, Eddie spaghetti,” Richie said, pointing towards the neglected spaghetti with his fork and a self-satisfied smile. “What led you to sign up for this romantic excursion?”

There it was, the question Eddie had been dreading. He knew it was going to come up, but hadn’t quite figured out a way to explain without coming across as lonely and desperate.

The truth was Eddie had gotten to a turning-point in his life very recently, where he’d had to choose between his own happiness and the happiness of others. After years of letting his mother dictate his life, choosing his school, his career, his partner, his sexuality, he’d had enough. But how could he sum that all up without Richie thinking he was a loser?

“Uhm, I came out recently…” Eddie chose that route; not quite a lie, but not the whole truth.

“Hey, congratulations!” Richie cheered, clinking his glass of water with Eddie’s before taking a sip. The action caused Eddie to startle, unfamiliar with someone congratulating him on, well, anything.

“So, you thought this might be the best way to find that special man?” Richie winked, gesturing at himself comically.

Eddie nodded, a small smile secured across his features.

“What about you?” He asked, eager to turn the attention away from himself.

Richie raised his eyebrows, as if he hadn’t been expecting the question to be turned around on him.

“Oh, uh, well my friends signed me up for this actually.” Richie rubbed the back of his neck. “But, well I guess it’s because I’ve been moping around for the past few months. Bad breakup and all that, you know. They must have decided it was time to get me back out there, and thus, here I am.” Richie gestured to the room around them, bringing their attention back to the bed that sat tauntingly in the corner.

“Apparently sex is part of getting me back out there.” Richie added, trying to make a joke out of an awkward moment.

Eddie smiled a little sadly.

“Well, if this was your friends’ idea, you certainly don’t have to, you know, act on anything. There’s no pressure.”

Richie’s featured contorted, almost as if he was offended Eddie would even suggest Richie might not want to see this through with him.

“Thanks for the out, but I hope you don’t mind if I don’t take it.”

Eddie’s cheeks tinted pink, a bashful smile causing him to tilt his head down.

“You’ve got a cute smile.” Richie murmured, almost too quiet for Eddie to pick up, before he was suddenly changing the subject.

The half hour they had to talk went by quickly, but they still found the time to discuss their entry questions for the program. They found out that they’d answered almost everything entirely the opposite from one another, leading them to question just how the algorithm worked.

“I still can’t believe you’d prefer a night at an arcade over a horse-back riding lesson for a first date.” Eddie teased, rounding back to the first question they’d been asked on their entry questionnaire.

“Hey, I stick by my guns; horses are terrifying creatures and I wish never to meet one.” Richie joked.

“I’ll have to introduce you to my friend Mike. He owns a farm and they’ve got the most gentle horses you’ve ever met. They wouldn’t hurt a fly.”

The insinuation of meeting up again after this program didn’t go unnoticed. Richie’s grin widened before Eddie realized what he’d said, slumping a bit lower in his chair and bringing the water glass to his lips.

“You know, if you want.” Eddie added, hiding his own smile behind a gulp of water.

“Already introducing each other to the friends, huh? Why Eddie, I didn’t know we were that serious.” Richie drawled in a dreadful impression of a southern belle.

Eddie’s face was flushed, his heartbeat preparing to send him to the hospital, when the overhead speakers came to life once more.

“We are now commencing part two. Please get comfortable as the gas begins to take its effects. Under the bed you will find anything you might need to make this experience more enjoyable.”

The two looked at each other with mixed expressions, the tone in the room suddenly thick with anticipation. The faint hissing of gas filtering in could be heard, but after looking around they couldn’t find its source.

Richie was the first one to move, pushing himself away from the table and heading towards the bed. He crouched down, reaching under the low bed frame and blindly feeling around until his hand met a box.

Once it was pulled out in full view, Richie and Eddie’s eyes both widened. The box was filled with an assortment of condoms, different types of lube, and even a few sex toys that were still in the package, marked with bright price stickers that implied if they used them, they were purchasing them to be taken home after.

“Wow, this is really happening.” Eddie said from where he still sat stock-still in his chair.

“Only if you want it to.” Richie said firmly, turning to give Eddie a genuine look.

“I don’t think that’s quite how it works. Soon our hormones are gonna take control and we won’t be able to help ourselves.”

“Hey,” Richie got up from his perch and walked over to Eddie, kneeling down in front of him and locking on to his gaze. “I will not do anything you don’t want me to. I don’t care what kind of crazy sex magic this is, I can and will hold myself back, if you tell me to.”

The tightness in Eddie’s chest began to loosen at Richie’s assurance, or maybe it was loosening because of the gas. Either way, Eddie found himself feeling more at ease, more confident, brazen.

He rose from his seat and passed by Richie, beginning to strip his shirt off as he walked towards the bed.

Richie was frozen in place, heart beating quickly at the mere sight of Eddie’s back. He was all tan skin and freckles and toned muscles; Richie found himself wanting to trace every curve with his tongue.

When Eddie’s hands began undoing his pants, Richie shot up and strode over within seconds, stilling Eddie’s hands with his own.

“Leave some for me, w-will ya?” He tried to joke, dry throat causing him to stumble over his words.

They couldn’t tell if the heat in the room was rising, or if it was the heat in their bodies. What had felt comfortable moments ago suddenly felt stifling. Getting rid of each other’s clothes became both lust-fueled and an attempt at regulating their temperatures.

Eddie began finding himself noticing things about Richie he hadn’t before. His hair was not an even shade of black, but rather a meld of dark browns and raven tones. It curled up in ways that made you want to run your fingers through it, and it looked so soft it was tantalizing.

Richie was noticing similar details about Eddie, like the swoop of his tiny nose and the smattering of freckles that didn’t just dust his cheeks, but scattered across his forehead and down his jaw. Richie followed the freckles down Eddie’s body, eyes glazing over as he took in the delicious planes of bare skin. When his gaze finally settled on Eddie’s cock, pink and perky, he dropped to his knees automatically.

Clients had to be free of STIs to pass through, so Richie didn’t think twice before taking Eddie into his mouth. The warmth of him on his tongue matched the warmth Richie felt all over, and the weight of the cock grounded him. He found it easy to focus on that and nothing else.

Eddie let out an unrestrained moan, letting his head tilt back as his fingers wound into that tempting hair. It was just as soft as he’d imagined, and he found himself gathering as much of it as he could in his fists.

As wonderful as it was to look down and see Richie’s mouth formed around his cock, eyes shut as he sucked with fervor unlike any Eddie had ever seen (or felt), Eddie needed more. His body tingled all over, his hole throbbed for attention, and all he wanted was for Richie to stuff him so full he wouldn’t be able to walk out of this place without assistance.

“Are you okay with topping?” Eddie struggled through his syrupy thoughts, trying to form a coherent sentence.

Richie hummed questioningly around Eddie’s cock, sending a shock of vibration up his shaft that had him cursing silently.

“Richie, are you okay with topping?” Eddie tried again, this time gritting the question through his teeth as his fingers tightened in Richie’s hair.

He got the same response, and irritation mixing with arousal caused Eddie to yank on Richie’s hair, pulling his head back and leaving him slack jawed and staring up at Eddie.

“Are you going to fuck me?” Eddie asked, all composure gone from his tone, replaced instead with desperation.

Richie smirked, raising on shaky legs and pulling Eddie close. Eddie’s hands were still tangled in his locks, causing his arms to rest on Richie’s shoulders.

“Oh Eds… I’m going to fuck you so hard you’ll be wrecked for anyone else.”

Richie leaned in, capturing Eddie’s lips in the first of their kisses. It was messy, driven by passion and an intensity that nearly knocked them off their feet.

Richie began steering Eddie backwards towards the bed, keeping their mouths connected with melding tongues and swallowed moans.

When Eddie felt the mattress hit the back of his legs, he turned around and crawled across the bed on all fours, lowering his chest until it touched the bed so his ass was in the air. He reached back with both hands, spreading his cheeks and presenting his hole to Richie. It was such an unexpected lewd pose that it nearly had Richie choking on air. Eddie looked like a cat in heat, bearing himself completely to be at the mercy of Richie.

“You better make good on your promise.” Eddie challenged, his voice a bit breathless.

Richie grabbed a bottle of lube from the box provided and hastily joined Eddie on the bed, his excitement causing him to stumble momentarily.

Richie’s chest was tightening, a slow spring getting ready to launch him into the abyss of infatuation. He was already completely taken with Eddie, but now, with the addition of the pheromones, he felt completely consumed by his obsession over this boy.

Richie was quick to squeeze some lube out onto his fingers, surprised when the smell of cherries drifted up to his nose. He looked at the label on the bottle, seeing it was indeed marketed as cherry flavored, and made a mental note to test it later when he wasn’t so hyper-focused on getting as deep inside Eddie’s guts as possible.

Richie brought a single digit to Eddie’s hole, admiring for a moment how pink and pretty it was; like a small flower waiting to bloom. He teased around the ring of muscle, enjoying the way the skin twitched in response, before he experimentally began pushing in.

Richie was surprised as Eddie’s hole essentially sucked him in, pulling him through the warm channel until he was up to his knuckle.

“I… may have stretched before coming here…” Eddie admitted, wiggling back into Richie shamelessly.

Richie’s brain was spinning, partially from the gas but mostly from the sight in front of him. Eddie was taking him so well, so eager to be stretched open and fucked good, and boy would Richie deliver.

After a few pumps and twists of his finger, Richie was already able to add another. In addition to Eddie having already stretched himself, a side effect of the gas was that it relaxed you, loosening your muscles and making your body more pliant. So Richie was able to get three fingers deep in record time, having received not a single complaint from Eddie, but instead continuous encouragement and hip swivels.

At this point, Eddie was basically fucking himself back on Richie’s fingers, and Richie legitimately considered letting him get off just like that. However, Richie’s own length was feeling ignored, so he shelved that idea for another day.

Richie removed his fingers, soothing Eddie’s whine with kisses along his back as Richie reached towards the box for a condom.

“No, n-no condom.” Eddie panted, trying to pull Richie’s hand back towards himself.

“Wha- are you sure?” Richie asked, despite his heart rate skyrocketing at the idea of being inside Eddie completely bare.

Eddie nodded, accompanied with a little moan.

“I want to carry your load inside me for the rest of the day.”

That’s all the encouragement Richie needed to convince him. He let his forehead rest between Eddie’s shoulder blades for a moment, letting out a shaky breath as he tried to compose himself so he didn’t cum then and there.

“You are going to kill me if you keep saying things like that.” Richie huffed out.

Eddie wiggled his ass back against Richie once again, only now that Richie was hunched over him, Eddie was grinding right back into his lap, the thick head of Richie’s cock catching on Eddie’s rim every few seconds.

“Then shut me up.” Eddie challenged coyly.

Well, Richie might only last a few seconds, but at least they’ll be a blissful few.

Richie drew back his pelvis, lining himself up with Eddie and pushing in without hesitation. The resulting moan was wanton, filling the room with a small echo that bounced off the walls. Richie momentarily wondered if these rooms were soundproof, and tried to think back to when he’d been walking through the halls. Had he heard anyone? Were there people listening to his most intimate moments right this second?

Eddie’s tight heat clenching around him was enough to shake those thoughts from his head. If they wanted to listen, then god bless them, because Richie would put on a show.

He pulled his hips back before pistoning forward with a vigor that knocked a choked moan out of Eddie. Richie quickly set a tempo that had Eddie unable to keep quiet, making sure to angle himself in a way that he found Eddie’s prostate, and keeping himself aimed towards it with every thrust.

“Fuck fuck hhhhhnnnnnngggg- so full.” Eddie groaned, reaching one of his hands down to his abdomen and pressing in, as if he might be able to feel Richie within him.

“So tight.” Richie responded, petting down Eddie’s back.

“I don’t know if it’s the g-gas but I don’t think I’ve ever been fucked this g-good- oh my god yesssss right there.”

Eddie was meeting Richie thrust for thrust, the sound of skin slapping together the only thing that could be heard apart from their moans.

“That’s not the gas- fuck- it’s all m- mmmmmm- all me, baby.”

Normally Eddie would hate a cocky response like that, but right then it went straight to his cock, causing it to twitch and release a heady string of pre-cum. He could tell he was going to cum soon, could feel the tightening in his balls and the constricting of his abdomen.

“I’m gonna cum, Richie- ‘m gonna- ahhhhh-”

Richie reached a hand around to Eddie’s front, grasping his cock in a gentle hold and giving it the attention it craved. Within seconds Eddie was spilling over Richie’s deft fingers, soiling the bed beneath them with waves of his release.

It took Richie another few minutes to cum, fucking into Eddie’s overstimulated hole to chase his own high. Eddie didn’t complain, didn’t wince away or whine, he just stayed open and willing, a vessel for Richie to get off.

When Richie finally finished and pulled out, Eddie collapsed on the bed, too far out of his mind to care that he was laying in his own cum, or that Richie’s was dripping out of him.

Richie lowered himself down beside Eddie, catching his breath as he let his eyes wander over the man’s lithe form. He wasn’t sure what the protocol was after having sex-gas initiated intercourse with a stranger. Did you cuddle? Kiss? Was he allowed to ask him on another date?

As the gas induced haze started to leave their minds, they became more and more aware of the state of them.

“Do you think they have showers here?” Eddie’s voice chirped up after a long silence. It was smaller than before, shy, maybe, which Richie thought to be endearing after he’d been begging for Richie to destroy him mere minutes ago.

“I hope so. I’m not too keen on the idea of walking home covered in my own spunk.”

Richie heard a small giggle, and when Eddie turned to face him he just about stopped Richie’s heart.

The smile on his face was radiant, shining up into his eyes and directly into Richie’s soul. Richie nearly missed his next few words, too busy falling so hard he thought he may get a concussion.

“I’ve always hated that word. Spunk.” Eddie repeated it, scrunching his nose up in disgust.

Richie wasn’t aware of his hand moving until it was curling a lock of Eddie’s hair around his ear, fingers drifting down to his cheek bone and along his jaw. Eddie’s face fell into a new expression, surprised, but also inquisitive and searching.

Richie let his hand settle on to Eddie’s neck, thumb grazing back and forth over his jaw. He locked in to those hazel eyes before slowly, carefully, leaning into Eddie’s space and placing a gentle peck on his lips.

Eddie responded with a light press of his own lips, eyelids fluttering shut only for them to pop back open when the kiss ended before he was ready.

“Eddie…” Richie took a breath, stilling himself before continuing. “Will you go on a date with me? A real date?”

Eddie bit the inside of his cheek, trying to keep his grin from showing through. He tried to calm his heart down before responding.

“On one condition.”

Richie raised an eyebrow.

“The food has to be better than that slop.” Eddie nodded towards the table where their forgotten dinner laid.

“Of course, Eddie Spaghetti.” Richie smiled before recapturing Eddie’s lips.

#reddie #richie tozier #eddie kaspbrak #reddie fanfic #reddie fanfiction #reddie smut #reddie lemon #reddie fluff #reddie blink date #reddie prompt #it #it fanfic #it fanfiction #my posts #my writing #constantreaderfool #ask

[swordliger]

Thatcher ABC Headcanons

A = Aftercare (What they’re like after sex)

If it was a short go, he usually makes up for it with soft face and neck kisses. Soft touches along his partner's back and thighs are a must as he keeps them close. If it was a long round, he usually lays flat out exhausted. Just telling his partner how much he adores them.

B = Body part (Their favourite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

Thatcher is very proud of his torso. One, he is still in great shape for his age and he is fairly sensitive there. Isn't above having his pecs getting some attention, one quick way to get him in the mood. On his partner he loves the mouth. Loves seeing his fingers or dick in their mouth, the way their lips 'curve so perfectly around him'

C = Cum (Anything to do with cum basically… I’m a disgusting person)

Oh boy, hope you keep towels nearby. Thatcher loves painting his partner with his cum, which wouldn't be too bad if the man didn't cum like a racehorse. As for getting cum on him, he'd prefer on a easy to clean spot like the chest and stomach or his ass. Not one for cumming inside his partner, or himself, feels it takes too long to clean up.

D = Dirty Secret (Pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

He never tells anyone this out right, and will only hint he likes it if his partner stumbles on this, but he loves having his taint sucked and lightly nipped. So the chances of this little sensation being indulged are pretty low.

E = Experience (How experienced are they? Do they know what they’re doing?)

Oh he's got experience, and he is not afraid to use it. He knows how to extend a partner's pleasure, and sometimes that means he denying an orgasn or two from them first. But he knows it will make the actual orgasm so much better.

F = Favourite Position (This goes without saying. Will probably include a visual)

Thatcher is a simple man. Missionary is one of his top 3. Being able to place kisses on his lovers neck and seeing all of their facial expressions really helps edge him on. Cowboy/Cowgirl is also a good one whether he is giving or receiving.

G = Goofy (Are they more serious in the moment, or are they humorous, etc)

He was always taught sex was a passionate and somewhat sacred act, but younger partners show him the funner side to the moment and he has loosened up. Plus funny sounds and positioning mishaps happen and he can't hide the laughs they bring.

H = Hair (How well groomed are they, does the carpet match the drapes, etc.)

Thatcher is a decently hairy man. His chest has a bit of fur growing, but it's not excessive. Thatcher does like to keep everything in order. So along with keeping his beard trimmed, his nether region gets the same pampering treatments. Besides, he doesn't want a stray hair to ruin the mood.

I = Intimacy (How are they during the moment, romantic aspect…)

He starts off very passionate. Tender kisses, soft caresses and a very loving demeanor. (Unless the moment was sparked by teasing and the two are unable to withhold themselves.) As he goes on and gets closer to his climax, he tends to get a lot more animalistic.

J = Jack Off (Masturbation headcanon)

Mike typically doesn't need a visual aid to masturbate, and he uses the sessions as a stress reliever more than anything. But for some reason if he doesn't indulge himself in a little ball play, his orgasm isn't as satisfying. This means another session before the day is over.

K = Kink (One or more of their kinks)

Nipple play on himself. His torso and pecks are already super sensitive so adding a little pinch, ice or heat is a sure fire way to get him going. He is also a fan of training. Helping his partner learn how to take him completely. Coaching them and praising them just helps edge him to a more powerful orgasm.

L = Location (Favourite places to do the do)

Likes more private spaces, his bedroom or car in a secluded spot. And having a good amount of space is a plus so that repositioning is never an issue.

M = Motivation (What turns them on, gets them going)

Thigh highs and garters believe it or not. Something about that get up with a few neck and chest kisses will have him rock solid within seconds.

N = NO (Something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

Bindings. He refuses to wear them. Would love to use them on his partner but lives by the rule 'if I won't do it, I won't force them to'. But if his partner asks and is enthusiastic about it, sure.

O = Oral (Preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc)

Mike loves receiving, especially if his partner has little to no gag reflex and is more than able/willing to swallow him down. Not the biggest fan of giving, but don't mistake that for him being inexperienced. He can leave his partner in a puddle of their own mess before even entering with his fingers or cock.

P = Pace (Are they fast and rough? Slow and sensual? etc.)

If he is topping, he will start off slow, easing his partner to his size (he knows he's bigger than average) then he will pick up the pace. If he is on the bottom, he likes for his partner to go slow, loving the fact he can feel everything his partner is making him feel

Q = Quickie (Their opinions on quickies rather than proper sex, how often, etc.)

Quickies are only with oral. He's not one for going all the way if he can't fully make his partner squirm.

R = Risk (Are they game to experiment, do they take risks, etc.)

He's not super risky naturally. However if his partner is a bit more wild, he will try out new things. If they fall within his comfort zone of course. The most he will push on his own is semi public sex.

S = Stamina (How many rounds can they go for, how long do they last…)

If he spent the day on his boat, he usually doesn't last very long, no more than a few minutes. If he hasn't been on the boat, expect much longer sessions and at least two back to back. He aims to wear out his partner before a little rest and then coming back for more.

T = Toy (Do they own toys? Do they use them? On a partner or themselves?)

He owns vibrators now, after some intense encouraging from his partner. He is still weary to use it on himself but he loves using them on his partner. But when he is convinced to let the vibrator be used on him, he typically has the most intense and ecstasy filled orgasms he can remember.

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

Teasing while in the mood is typically where all of his teasing energy goes. Love nips, nipple pinching, making his partner beg, it will all happen. Dirty text is a rare occasion, unless he is far from his partner and desperately missing their company. And dirty talk isn't something he does while others are around. Now if he is feeling especially frisky, quick whispers that leave his partner red will happen

V = Volume (How loud they are, what sounds they make)

Loud! Moaning, oh yeah. Growling, you bet. Deep throaty grunts, he's an animal baby. But don't expect a lot of dirty talk however. He's not one for doing it constantly, saving it mostly for during the foreplay.

W = Wild Card (Get a random headcanon for the character of your choice)

Rook is a medical assistant in training under Doc's watchful eye.

X = X-Ray (Let’s see what’s going on in those pants, picture or words)

I'd say he's above average all the SAS are hung like elephants sitting at 6.5 in(16.5cm)

Y = Yearning (How high is their sex drive?)

Surprisingly high for his old age. He tries to act as though he can control himself but if his partner gives him a certain look or kisses him in the right spot, he is erect before he can even attempt to hide it.

Z = ZZZ (… how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

Thatcher does his best to stay awake for a few minutes longer with his partner, mostly so they can both get cleaned up and of course to share a few cuddles and whispered sweet nothings.

#thatcher #rainbow six siege #rainbow 6 siege #r6s #dirty headcannons #thatcher is a old hot hunk

[harper-hook]

NSFW Alphabet | Evie

Upcoming Work: Drunken Words, Sober Thoughts | Mike Munroe x Reader

A=Aftercare (What they’re like after sex)

She’s very attentive. She’ll make sure that both you and herself are okay before draping a blanket over your bodies. She’ll compliment you on how you both did before cuddling up next to you.

B=Body Part (Their favorite body part of their partners)

She likes your legs and would consider them your best feature right after your face. She doesn’t care whether they’re shaved or not, she just likes to trail her nails up your legs, watching as goosebumps pop up.

C=Cum (Anything to do with cum basically... I’m a disgusting person)

After she finishes you off, she likes to finish herself off with her fingers and have you lick her fingers clean.

D=Dirty Secret (Pretty self explanatory)

She’s working on a special set of lingerie for you guy’s anniversary. She’s still torn whether to have you or her wear it.

E= Experience (How experienced are they?)

Not at all. Her mother was very forceful that she was to remain ‘pure’ until marriage, claiming that a prince didn’t want damaged goods. Of course, you are there to help her learn.

F= Favorite Position

G = Goofy (Are they more serious in the moment, or are they humorous, etc.)

At the beginning, she’s playfully teasing you about how needy you’re being but as time goes on, she becomes more serious as you both get closer to release.

H = Hair (How well groomed are they, does the carpet match the drapes, etc.)

Very clean shaven. She takes pride in being clean and neat. I like to imagine her with blue pubes when she forget to shave.

I = Intimacy (How are they during the moment, romantic aspect)

Very romantic! She’s very intimate with you already and even more so during sex. She’s constantly leaving kisses and holding your hands, whispering into your ear.

J = Jack Off (Masturbation headcanon)

At first she won’t realize what’s wrong because she’ll start getting more irritable and won’t be able to focus on her designs. Then it’ll hit her, quite literally. She’ll immediately look for a way out and to head back to the dorm room, quickly finishing herself off before heading back to work.

K = Kink (One or more of their kinks)

She thinks body piercings are so hot! Of course she would never force you to get one but she would casually throw the idea out there. Little does she know, you’re planning to surprise her for her birthday...

L = Location (Favorite places to do the do)

It usually starts with you modeling for Evie in her studio but it leads to searing kisses and light touches. It may start there but it always ends in the dorm room.

M = Motivation (What turns them on, gets them going)

Definitely seeing you work or talk about something you’re passionate about is attractive to her. Also seeing you all dolled up for royal events is nice.

N = NO (Something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

Anything that you’re too uncomfortable with or too messy is a huge turn off

O = Oral (Preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

She doesn’t really have a preference, she likes both. She secretly likes that when she’s eating you out, her makeup gets messy. It’s like a double slap to her mother about finding a prince and always looking proper and pristine.

P = Pace (Are they fast and rough? Slow and sensual? etc.)

Slow and sensual definitely. She’s all about taking her time to worship and appreciate your body and making sure that you feel like you’re perfect.

Q = Quickie (Their opinions on quickies rather than proper sex, how often, etc.)

No, just no. It won’t kill her to wait until you’re both free. She doesn’t want you to feel like she uses you just to get off

R = Risk (Are they game to experiment, do they take risks, etc.)

She loves researching for ways to spice up your sex life after being sheltered by her mother. If it’s something that want to do, she’ll try. 

S = Stamina (How many rounds can they go for, how long do they last)

Only one or two rounds that last about 15 to 20 minutes She’s easily satisfied.

T=Toy (Do they own toys? Do they use them? On a partner or themselves?)

When she learned about toys, she was very curious. So after a bit of research, she settled on a pair of nipple clamps to start. They’re her absolute favorite to use on both you and herself.

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

She’s a huge tease. She likes to get you worked up and back off, working you up again as you finally get calmed down. She’ll trail her nails up your sides and stomach, giving you chills.

V = Volume (How loud they are, what sounds they make)

She’s is very loud. Constantly moaning, making the most stereotypical, sexiest noises imaginable. You’re worried people might hear but Evie doesn’t care.

W = Wild Card (Get a random headcanon for the character of your choice)

She likes to leave marks on you. Scratches from her nails, lipstick prints, hickies, you name it.

X = X-Ray (Let’s see what’s going on in those pants, picture or words)

Like I said above, she’s clean shaven and feels like silk.

Y = Yearning (How high is their sex drive?)

Not very high, pretty average actually. Once every week or two but it last for a couple hours.

Z = ZZZ (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards) 

She only falls asleep after she’s cuddled up next to you. It helps her relax.

#disney descendants #descendants imagine #evie grimhilde #evie x reader #evie imagine

[theteablogger]

Michael Corner and Terry Boot

While working on the timeline, I’ve found myself digressing quite a bit to talk about Mike and Terry’s “evolving” relationship throughout DAYDverse and Andy’s meta. Rather than clutter up the timeline, I decided to post something here and simply link to it later. So I put together an outline, with fic links and excerpts and as much chronological detail as possible, of what Andy wrote about Mike and Terry over the years. It stops in 2013 because their labeling has been consistent since September 2012, and he hasn’t written any significant fic featuring these characters since the following year.

(Cut for length and NSFW content.)

April 2008 - In DAYD, Andy establishes that Mike and Terry are best friends, extremely close, and can “read each other’s minds”. Eventually, we learn that this is literally true; they use Legillimency to maintain a constant mental connection that they rarely choose to break. He also mentions that they have matching tattoos, and that Terry’s says, “L’amitie de la conaissance.”

Sometime between April 2008 and July 2009 - In his FAQ, Andy “bans” people from slashing Mike and Terry. He says: 

This is the first thing on the FAQ that is preemptive, not a response to comments or emails, but I feel I need to, particularly after #50. I have given other authors permission to play in my world, but I am putting a few caveats on that. I have no problem with slash or homosexuality. Rowan Glynnis and Malcolm Braddock both “stir their cauldrons in their own direction.” IMHO, both Colin and Luna are bisexual. HOWEVER, I am refusing permission for anyone to slash my Neville and/or Ernie, as well as any Michael/Terry slash. Obviously, these are all four originally JKR’s creations and I cannot ban the pairings in general , but I can ask people not to use my story as material in them. In the case of Neville and Ernie, this is because their relationships with women are just too vital to the plot and who they are as young men in my world, but in the case of Michael and Terry, I have another reason too. As a male writer, I have tried very hard to accurately portray the way the men in my story think and feel, even as I try my best to do justice to the ladies as well. The kind of love Michael and Terry have for one another is an extraordinary sort of brother-bond that men can form for one another under very rare circumstances, and it is one of the most powerful forms of love in the world, sometimes almost as strong as a mother for her child. That is something that I would find debased by making it into romantic or physical attraction, and that is why I am requesting that it not be done. Please respect this, and if I find out that someone has written a story from my canon that violates it, I will be reporting it to ff.net as uncondoned plagiarism.

Prior to June 17, 2008 - Andy publishes “By Consensus”, in which each of the two boys telepathically shares with the other the memory of a sexual encounter that he has recently had with a girl. These are memories such as one might see in a pensieve, except that their telepathic connection allows each to experience it as if he were in the other’s body. This is incredibly skeevy because neither girl is asked for her consent before they share. The experience of sharing these memories is so intense that Mike and Terry “wake up” afterward entangled in each other’s limbs, sweaty, chests heaving, evidently having kissed each other--oh, and they’ve both come. (Link goes to a much later re-posting on the DAYDverse community.) Excerpt:

He was still trembling, there was a hot stickiness at his groin, a deep throbbing that told him he'd come again, but Terry scarcely noticed as he released the connection, the memory fading back to what it had been before he raised it and shared it with his friend.  Instead, what had his attention so completely was he and Michael were no longer laying side by side, but tangled together, and he could feel the other boy's erection flagging as freshly as his own. Their arms were wrapped around each other, their hair damp and clinging to their faces, their chests still heaving, and he could taste a faint lingering hint of chocolate in his mouth.  He hadn't eaten chocolate that day.

June 19, 2008 - Andy publishes “Empirical Evidence” on hprarepairs. In this fic, Mike and Terry have sex and it's the most profound, amazing, meaningful thing ever precisely because they are male, not gay, and feel no sexual desire for each other despite their extremely strong friendship-type-love. It’s so intense, in fact, that they’re afraid ever to do it again. Excerpt:

Michael chuckled, and the sound was oddly rough in his raw throat. “Kind of defeats the whole purpose of avoiding emotional involvement when I love you more than any witch in this school?”   “No fucking kidding.” Terry rolled unsteadily onto one elbow, tucking himself back into his pants. “That was…yeah…but I think if we ever do anything like it again….”   He reached out, pushing a piece of the long blonde hair out of Terry’s eyes. “Speaking of your ancient Greeks, the Spartans encouraged their soldiers to have sex with one another because it took the brotherhood bonds to a level that would drive them to acts of insanity on the battlefield to protect one another. Never made sense before, and I don’t think it’s anything like what Stephen and Derek have…that seems to be more like what we have with witches. This was something else, something more raw, and I mean here –“ he tapped his chest, “—not just down there. It wasn’t…it wasn’t about sex at all, but it was certainly sexual, but….”  “It was terrifying.”   “Completely.” Michael bit his lip, looking down for a moment before reaching out to lace his hand through his friend’s, squeezing it tightly. “Mindless shagging definitely goes somewhere else, then?” Terry nodded. “Definitely.” His fingers tightened on Michael’s. “There’s nothing mindless about what you mean to me, Mike.” 

September 30, 2008 - In “20 Random Facts about Tiresius W Boot”, Andy says that Mike and Terry each has half of a quotation by Comte DeBussy-Rabutin tattooed on his upper arm. Mike has  “L’amour vient de l’aveuglement” (”Love comes from blindness...”) and Terry has “l’amitie de la connaissance” (”...friendship, from knowledge.”). 

November 4, 2008 - In “20 Random Facts About Michael J Corner”, Andy reveals that following Mike and Terry’s deaths in the Battle of Hogwarts, their ashes were mixed and split in half, then buried under identical gravestones with both their names on them. Their parents had intended to engrave the text of their tattoos on the stones, but the Greek characters for "philia" appeared instead, "inexplicably and indelibly of [their] own accord". In this hilarious summary of DAYD, this is described as, “No Homo, in Ancient Greek.”

December 9, 2008 - Andy throws a fit on fanficrants when someone writes what he describes as “a craptastic slash threesome” between Mike, Terry, and Tony. He reports this person for plagiarism because he says that they “stole” his version of Terry.

December 12, 2008 - In “Standing Witness”, Mike is horribly tortured by Belsen while the other students are made to watch. Because of their telepathic connection, Terry shares the experience, and finally casts Avada Kedavra to put Mike out of his misery--but it doesn't work because he doesn’t really mean it. Later, Terry sits at Mike’s bedside and internally monologues at great length about how Mike is indescribably beautiful and intelligent and wonderful and he loves him more than life itself, and now he’s thrown all that away. When he realizes that Mike is still alive, he monologues some more about how much he loves Mike, who no doubt will never forgive him. When these events are described in DAYD itself, the other characters talk about how much Mike and Terry love each other, to the point that they’re closer than brothers. When Mike wakes up, Terry cries over him and Mike kisses his hand. Excerpt from “Standing Witness”:

I've wondered for years what kind of person could burn the Library of Alexandria; all that knowledge, all that art, so much priceless genius, who could look at that and bear to think of a torch or a hammer…but those monsters are still with us, aren't they, Mike? That he could look at you and do…do what he did, knowing you're not just beautiful, but brilliant and brave and good…and how could I help him? What does that make me? Qu'est-ce que creature, quel monstre suis-je? ... We'll fight and we'll survive and all of this, every minute of it and every day of my life I've lived and every day I have left will be worth it if I can just have one more day with you well and whole and seeing you smile, seeing your eyes light up with a new idea, some new bit of knowledge, some new discovery that we can share.  ... Maybe, in the end, that's why I'm here…so that at least once, someone would truly know how precious you are, even if you're in the end a treasure only measurable by its cost to lose.

Sometime prior to February 28, 2009 - Andy publishes “Perils of Studying Outdoors”. Caught sneaking around outside by Amycus Carrow, Mike and Terry misdirect him by passionately making out and...well, here’s an excerpt. The non-italicized bits represent the two of them communicating telepathically.

There was no acting necessary to love him, just love him with every bit of his soul, but he rarely let himself just feel it this completely, because it was so overwhelming as to be a little bit frightening, and he heard a tiny gasp escape his lips, a shiver running through him at the raw, almost feral depth of it. You're beautiful too, Terry. I wish you could see that. Not just your eyes, either.  Terry flinched back, closing his eyes at the compliment and trying to turn away, but Michael's hands were clasped behind his neck now. You don't have to...he can't hear us.  I'm not saying it to him. I'm saying it to you. You're the pretty one. I'm the pin-up. But you're no half-cast spell either. Sometimes I almost wish I could fancy wizards, because you already mean so much to me, and I know if I did, even a little, I'd lose myself in you so easily. You're already so much everything to me, adelphos. Philia et agape... ... The kiss was uncertain at first, edged on barriers neither quite understood and both knew completely, barely a whisper of lip to lip, then the tight set of Terry's shoulders seemed to melt beneath his hands, and arms that had become recently stronger than he had realized were around his waist, pulling them in together until their bodies breathed under one rhythm. It was real in every way that they were, no act at all and so much more than what it was meant to appear to be, expressing every layer of the love that Michael wondered if any other couple in this school - in this world - who could claim simple eros even began to understand. What a pity if they didn't, because even as some faint part of him heard the Death Eater's roar of outrage, knew what was about to come, his mouth was still reluctant to edge away from Terry's, teeth and tongue lingering across the moisture of his lower lip, and the rest of himself was reflected in cobalt that lazed open just in time to lace their hands together and brace themselves before le vilain petit monde cracked over them again.

April 1, 2009 - On the LJ community, Andy posts “Revelations” as a prank for April Fool’s Day. In this fic, Mike and Terry inform their friends that they are involved in a romantic relationship with each other, and then kiss passionately in front of them, as a joke. In the header Andy says, as part of his prank, that he's had writer's block and is curing it by changing the story/characters to fit what the readers want to see. Excerpt:

“There’s no need for rash action,” Michael cut in hastily. “We’re not offended. But if we’re going to be trusting each other with our lives, we can at least trust you with this. It’s been such a year…a lot has changed. We’ve all discovered things about ourselves that maybe we didn’t realize before.” ... Another moment of wordless conversation, and then Neville’s jaw nearly hit the polished surface of the conference table as the two wizards moved as one.   Chairs scraped the stone floor deafeningly, and now Michael was almost in Terry’s lap, their arms locked around one another, and they were kissing. Not just kissing, snogging. Bloody near trying to suck one another’s tonsils out. Mouths crushed together, eyes closed, hands sliding up under robes and gripping shoulders, moving over backs in the most passionate, almost desperate embrace that Neville had ever seen. The tendons corded tight on Terry’s neck. The flutter and fan of dark lashes against Michael’s still-pale cheek. Breath sucked quick and fervent between teeth and around tongues, as if any moment it wouldn’t, couldn’t be enough and they would either have to go further or burst from the pure intensity. It was the kind of kiss that was uncomfortable and voyeuristic to watch, even if it hadn’t been two wizards, and he had to look away, staring at the ceiling and wondering what…wondering how…?

April 6, 2009 - Andy posts his completed “Quadrophilia” sketch, which portrays Mike and Terry having sex with the Patil twins. 

July 12, 2009 - What is a slash and what do you mean Mike and Terry have subtext; I can't see these things at all in any canon ever.

May 26, 2011 - Mike and Terry are bicurious.

June 2011, just over a week later - Terry is asexual. (Andy copy/pasted a group chat about LGBTQIA characters to the community. Neither Mike nor Terry was mentioned during the chat, but in the comments, another user asked if there were any asexual characters in the DAYDverse. Andy replied, “Terry, as a matter of fact.” I won’t link to it because it includes DAYDians’ full names.)

July 12, 2012 - Mike and Terry = BROTP.

September 2012 - Terry is homoromantic/asexual and Mike is homoromantic/heterosexual.

February 23, 2013 - Andy defends himself when asked whether his portrayal of Mike and Terry constitutes queerbaiting.

December 10, 2013 - Andy publishes “Unison”, the story of Mike and Terry’s establishing their mental link, with an author’s note that tries to preempt further talk of queerbaiting. Excerpt from the fic:

“I’m afraid.” "So am I. Of so many things." The vial stopped. The crease between his brows deepened. He pushed his hair back. “What could you ever fear?” "Falling." From grace. From my pedestal. In love. Too late and he knew it for all of them and I couldn’t breathe. The vial lifted, uncapped, tilted to dampen his finger, all still untouched. His wand was still on the floor somewhere behind us both, glowing and casting its ghosts’ light. Oh, but he was so astoundingly gifted in ways I could barely comprehend. I could never. How could he not see it? Maybe if this worked. He touched my temples with the potion; first one, then the other. “I’d catch you.” ... “...I think I’ve only ever done two perfect things in my life." "Only two?" His left hand on his face now as well, his right on mine. Our pulses had come to match. I felt light headed and didn’t even know if it was beginning. I closed my eyes. We were too young, they said. It was too dangerous. We didn’t have the maturity, the control, the capacity for the necessary level of responsible intimacy, much less to handle the complexities and abstracts of it all. Blocking, maybe, under the direst need, but never probing, penetrating, accepting, inviting, receiving. It could change who you were if it happened too young. Never before seventeen, surely. Not for children. Not for us. Rules were made to be broken by the exceptions. Or the exceptional. "Finding you, and now letting you in."

#daydverse #queerbaiting #andythanfiction #thanfiction #andrew blake #andy blake

[rockerchick1330]

~ Flower ~ A Chris Cornell fanfiction (Chapter 9)

Hey again hunnies! Sorry I haven't been posting so often, school recently resumed for me and, ya know -_- xD but I am excited cause I do have a lot of great ideas for the plot, hope you guys enjoy! Love you all and thank you so much for the support! XOX!! (This is Star's POV btw) Warning: This chapter does contain explicit, sexual content... The staircase was probably a faint blur at that moment. I constantly batted my eyelids until the thin, sheen of liquor based influence cleared it's infestation of my pupils. The bitter, yet cloying, taste of victorious spirit still lingering on my tongue. It was certainly responsible for the undefeatable grin plastered across my curled lips, twitching wider until my flushed cheeks ached. The bubbling din of Xana's drunken giggles that emitted like joyful sobs from her throat were quite peculiar, considering the lack of comical humor that Andy condoned. Her feet swirled and danced on the staggered brick path, the stiletto heel of her shoes often snapping sharply against the concrete. "Careful babe," Andrew snorted, rather amused than concerned of Xana's mentally numb condition. He coiled a protective arm around her tiny waist in assistance to avoid any minor incidents. After scribbling what I had assumed to be my originally designed signature on the freshly printed contract, I reminisced on the previous celebration. The loud, flustering cheers of finally being recognized as a foreign, Seattle Hard Rock band suffocated and drowned my self esteem positively. The vivid memory of Layne and Mike encouraging me to chug what appeared to be a quart of infused Vodka. The tingle and smoldering singe as the smooth, what I considered to be at the time, elixir rolled down my gullet. That thrilling after flame that left the linen of my throat raw. Yet, the satisfying pain wasn't enough to distract and amputate the roaring, distorted applause and jeers that followed immediately. With the liquor still churning in my stomach and my immunity barely flinching at its perilous contents, I retrospected on the latter consequences which I further disregarded. The professionally documented and typed sheet of great exaltation flitted and jolted my visual thoughts. The way I had the least heed for the seemingly endless paragraphs, transcripted in ebony ink. Skimming through the elegant font array of sentences just to display some sort of discretion, I hovered atop the labelled, dotted line. Its broken base already autographed by the uniquely drawn signatures of my band mates, I felt a sharp tremble and anxiety spume inside of me. Lines I assumed would've been jaggedly written were perfectly equable as my soul, gravitating on the carbonated ripples of my drinks. With both record executives offering us the typical introductory speech and invitation, an attentive Ashton absorbed most of the information. My attention was diverted on the most regular and uneventful individual in an assembly of notable, ensuing melees. Previously preaching the gospel of Rock 'N' Roll on stage, my eyes had strayed to the shady, sexy figure observing silently on the back. Neither of his fists were lodged into the air and his jaw was clenched shut, not permitting any chants or screeches of support. Clad in the sleek, appealing leather jacket I absolutely adored and fawned upon when he was clothed in it. His long, moisturized curls cascading down his broad, squared shoulders and his ghastly pale complexion shimmering beneath the flickering audience lights. The florid, overdone stage smokers occasionally fogged and clouded the once prominent view of him. I contemplated on the sudden adrenaline rush fumbling with my mature status and in exchange for foolish illusions, but I knew for a certain fact, it had to be whom I was convinced it was. Spitting lyrics out and attempting to congregate how he could've possibly slipped out of the insecure gaze of Susan was overwhelming. My consistent breaths and hesitation on particular lines disoriented my tongue, tying it into tricksy knots. Failing to shove and rid the sensual and intimate fantasizes of him out of my subconscious, I struggled to latch back onto the clasp of my usual performance ego. The moaning of Brandon's whammy bar piercing like a struck bell and creeping through the speakers. The way Ashton's fingers explored and journeyed across and beyond the frets of his guitar, performing licks that weren't even comprehendible. I felt my chest tremble, my rib cage shiver as Cyd's rhythmic bass line seeped like liquid gold from her rusted strings. Paired with Tristan's ridiculously angst amplified drumming, both were coupled romantically. Their depth pleasing the ears of dozens of spectators and fans, making it all the more satisfying to experience. But then, I could've no longer excused the mysterious, abstruse figure, for he was then trudging sluggishly beside me. His hands were buried within the grave of his pockets awkwardly as he occasionally attempted to conceive a normal, casual conversation. Skipping up the staircase, I refused to halt and await his presence as to conceal the existent endearment I shared with him. For cautionary purposes, Andy didn't hesitate or even inquire consent before scraping Xana off her feet. "Andy!" She squealed, struggling abundantly within his cradle intended arms. She punted her legs ferociously whilst wavering and deliberately flinging noneffective blows at his chest. "Baby, calm down!" His intentions of being placid and soothing were completely misinterpreted by his agitated, altercated tone. "No! I'm not a baby!" She bickered like a pouty, aggravated child. Being oblivious to her argument, her milky, shaved legs jolted, rather fiercely that time considering that her left shoe was then plummeting towards an untamed, decorative rose bush. "Fuck," I heard Andy hiss beneath a heavy, irritated breath. "My shoe! Go get it Andy!" Xana instantly swapped her once savage and violent behavior for one of much more agony and affliction for a materialistic object. Either way, Andy hadn't threatened to disobey an intoxicated Xana, bidding Chris and I farewell as we hurried up the creaky stairs. Our weight occasionally shifted the metal planks, a hazardous event I had grown accustomed and acquainted with. "Hey, Star-" arriving at the top floor, he somewhat timidly hailed my attention. "U-Uhh, about what happened today." I hadn't any confidence to properly assemble words, far much for my ability to avoid necessary eye contact. I apprehensively coughed, clearing my throat of the intentional hitch of air that dared to choke me. "W-What?" I ignorantly blurted, tripping over the complicated obstacles that were embarking on my tongue. Just the brief recall of the comprising, yet absolutely orgasmic, encounter Chris and I endured permitted a bright red glow that tinted my cheeks. The surreal feel of his hot, obscene touch merely scratching the surface of my sexual pinnacle. How delicious and delightful his long, calloused fingers apperceived my inner heat, stroking me in that undescribable pattern. He brushed every single inch of my valid weak spots, making me vulnerable, feeble beneath his accomplished smirk. My already aroused girlhood fluttered, reminiscing on how exceptionally he stimulated its palpitating nub of pink flesh. My teeth reflexively clenched my lower lip on the erotic vision of how warm my skin rose from his singular tease. But the most pleasurable and achingly amazing sensation was my achieved climax. It was beautiful, that final contraction and then the sharp ripples of my internal muscles. It was amatory and wonderful, that finishing cry and tight buckle of my pelvics. I would've sacrificed anything I was required to to experience a lengthy, passion driven intercourse session with Chris. "When we-" he paused abruptly as he gazed down at my lowered chin. "Well, when I touched you." I pursed my lips into a thin, firm line, fiddling nervously with the frayed ends of my distressed, acid washed jeans. "Chris, I-I don't know what to say," I mumbled rather charily whilst he ran his tongue along his chapped, bruised lips. Though he labored with the use of understood gestures to plead for applicable, visual communication, my aplomb had withered like the petals of a shriveling rose. I adverted my attention to the semi reflective surface of his boots, the disheveled laces making me cringe mentally from its lack of uniformity. My initial ambition was to ignore the emotional incision that spewed and exhausted my heart, trading it for a more unchanged and aloof spunk. Briefly surpressed by a figurative impediment, I coughed and shrugged either off my tensed shoulders. It was excruciating to mask my true intentions and love for him beneath the girl I attempted, but failed, to be. "I'm sorry for-" "No! No!" I denied and interrupted his sincere apology. Alternating my body language, I tilted my hips in accordance to the shifted weight amongst my legs. Slightly levitating my chin humbly and indolently swaying, I proceeded. "It was n-nothing really," there was an unintended strain in my voice when falsely confessing our affair was of no worth. His eyes frowned at me sympathetically, knowledgeable enough to recognize my transparent lie. "Nothing? What happened today was nothing to you?" He muttered questionably, unfazed by my unrealistic reply to react properly. We were shortly disturbed by the familiar wail that was squawked a floor beneath us. "Fuck! Fuck these motherfuckin' thorns!" He easily disregarded Andrew's cry of arrogation whilst I attempted to alter it into a distracted, miserably doing so unsuccessfully. "I think it meant more to you than it did to me." His assumption immediately captivated me in his skillfully invented snare. "T-That's not true," I spat hastily, abusing my innocent tongue for emitting such fibs. My jaw firmly clenched as my teeth sank into the inner flesh of my lips, silencing my untruthful phrases. I knew well he hadn't been swindled by my charade, proof being the twitching smirk that itched the corners of his lips. With the faint, apologetic moon mimicking his current emotions then, she casted a tender, ghoulishly romantic glow onto our silhouettes. Stumbling back against the front door and wincing at its irritating groan, he properly confronted my figure, skyscraping above my head. "You're a really bad liar babe," he mused, a mere grin tickling at his tempting, irresistible lips. I was immensely startled by his swift motion, barricading my body within the defense of his toned, leather clad arms. His fists solidly plastered onto the door behind and occasionally brushing on my curves as if the intended contact was an incident. My constant wheezing was audible then as he leaned at an appropriate level and reluctantly distanced our faces. That beautiful shimmer and sparkle that wedded his astounding emerald irises never failed to dupe me into a serene epiphany. His pale, perfectly chiseled features and alluring body added to the undeniable urge I felt for him. I desperately grasped at my sanity and control, reminiscing on the later remorse that would've haunted me. But I hungered for him, lusted after his touch and kiss, I needed him, buried deep within me, physically without any boundaries. "Is it that obvious?" I breathed, exchanging necessary oxygen with him, thirsty for any substance that contained matters of him. His hands were then fluctuated on my waist, firmly preparing me for what was soon to occur. Savoring the absolutely delicious taste of his lips as he sloppily latched onto my tongue, my eyelids grew heavy with the great mass of lust weighing them down. Feeling his arms snake around the entirety of my waist, I noosed my frail arms around his neck, gravitating on the very tips of my toes. "Chris," I muffled between our passionate kiss when his either hands heaved and groped at my full, prominent butt cheeks. "Fuck, I just need to see your body one more time," he sighed, regaining the brief disconnection with an equality of desire. "I just need to hear you moan my name again." My skin crawled like six legged fiends on beneath my flesh, making my body violently shiver within his secure prison. Finally committing to him, I breathed, dainty and soft. "P-Please, I need you Chris." Due to a sudden, lustful and horny impulse, he snapped at my lower lip, clenching it sharply between his teeth. Sucking at it and chastely licking its moisturized surface, I whimpered in delight and gasped. "I wanna make you feel so good," he seductively mumbled, lingering on my already swollen lips. "I want you sprawled out and moaning so loud for me when I finally have you." I unintentionally moaned, pleasured just by the unholy thought of hot, procrastinated sex with him. The mild foreplay and exchanging of filthy innuendoes were persuading us accurately, that was until his forsaken brunette snake slithered in... ★★★★★★★★★★★★★ I groaned, bothered and harassed by the vivid imagery of what had previously happened, excluding the interrupting melee from Susan. I uncomfortably shifted and revolved around my scattered, futile sheets that were much too distraught to provide coverage. The fragrance of his musky, alluring cologne infinitely dwelled on his indigo flannel I somewhat alleviated myself within. My digital clock flickered with bold, red numerals which accordingly read '1:35 A.M'. I was unable to analyze or comprehend the idea of slumber. The concept of Chris irritated and nagged annoyingly at me, depriving me of any relief of relaxation. Observing intently as the scarlett digits increased by each ticking minute, another sixty seconds of my deteriorating life squandered on him. My bed was the grave of the underlying scenario that we both part took in several hours before. Its deranged spirit whispered of my sinful disobedience to my once instilled oath. Fluctuating in multiple, unsatisfying directions on my unleveled, measled mattress, I forced my face into my fluffed pillow. The severe, suicidal contemplation of simply stifling myself within the feathers and cloth floated across my subconscious like an innocent cloud wavering amongst the sky. Discreetly exiting my regular thoughts, I stiffened at the sound of heavy, unsteady footsteps thumping down the corridor. Assuming it was Chris roaming the hallway and scraping the kitchen for left over delicacies or expired meals, I presumed to my normal plotting and suggestions. I didn't expect the abrupt introduction of his figure creeping into my room. A streak of yellow light seeped into the ebony atmosphere, approximately glaring straight into my squinted eyes. With shrunken pupils, I inspected his dark silhouette, immediately biting my sore lower lip slightly. His loosely hung boxers, sewed and embellished with a checkered design, barely clung to him. The elastic band of his briefs hung with peril on his extreme, low torso, exposing a mere inch of his muscular indented 'V'. Paired with the nonexistent shirt he wore, I immediately fawned over his sexy, appearance. "Chris, what are-" he harshly shut the door behind him, not exasperated by the still erect lock that perched open. The lack of lights made it difficult to properly detect what his purpose of entering so exaggeratedly was required for. I only realized his ambition when he invited himself to hover on top of my tiny figure. "I'm not finished with you babe," he growled, immediately beginning his intended goal. Clenching both the buttoned seams of the oversized, rugged flannel I was huddled into, with a single, brutal tug, my bare chest was no longer secluded. Before having a moment to protest, he pinned my wrists down on the ruffled covers of my bed, migrating his lips to my neck. My argument only emitted as a faint gasp and moan, thoroughly enjoying his constant, violent nibbling and sensual sucking at my tender flesh. He was already familiar and accustomed with my body. With eventual lag and a teasing ego, he finally arrived at my perky, round breasts. Adorning them with hot kisses that threatened to burn or singe my flesh, I sighed as my chest heaved and released. "Ah! Chris!" I whimpered when he began suckling at one of my erected, solid nipples. Grazing his warm tongue on every single inch of my boobs, my twinging embarrassment or, perhaps more appropriately, shame faltered away like ashes crumbling from blue flames. My skin immediately roused in temperature, contagiously spreading throughout my entire body. Paving his path down my cleavage and flattened stomach, I hesitated when he taunted the waistline of my vulgar panties. "C-Chris," I wheezed as his tongue traced the spacious region between both my pelvics. My heart was palpitating at a surreal rate along with the rapid flow of my blood curdling through my veins. The vague puncture of fear struck me. "I-I'm scared," I honestly confessed as he fiddled with the satin trim of my underwear. "Shh-" he hushed gently, his lips brushing intimately on my inner thighs. "Don't be scared, I promise I won't hurt you." With his fingers prying my panties down and permitting them to dangle around my ankles, he briefly savored a moment to admire my pubic area. Licking his lips and firmly fixating my limbs on how he desired me to be positioned, a shallow breath hitched in my mid throat. "Relax for me," he purred with his hot breath purposely fanning against my glistening genitals. His soothing words smoothed out my ridged edges and choppy fright, leisurely easing my pressure like magic. He firmly grasped onto my thighs, so tightly that my skin seeped through the gaps of his long fingers. With sufficient time to plot out his performance, I pursed my lips and screwed my eyes shut. All his persuasion finally paid their debts in the end. I strangled the sheets from my iron grip, moaning aloud as an approval of his current gesture. His tongue was soft and supple against my shimmering, folds, concentrating especially on my plump, aching clitoris. "Mhmm," I whimpered, my body jostling sharply when he proceeded to pacify my flitting clit. "O-Oh! Chris, I-I." My hips automatically bucked, angling myself for him to make proper love to my flesh orally. The undescribable pleasure tingled and swished inside of me as events developed more erotic and heated whilst he preserved strong eye contact with me through his curtained hair. I grinded against his then inserted fingers and tongue, edging myself to an absolute wonder of an orgasm. "Ohh! Oh yes!" I convinced him more. My toes curled as a thin, sheen layer of sweat built upon the surface of my skin. I felt myself hot and boiling within my lower abdomen, reflexively earning subtle screams and cries then. Easily predicting my oncoming climax by my obvious reactions and muscle contractions, I pouted and whined when he distanced his once consistent lips from me. "D-Don't stop, please," I pleaded as he licked the residue fluids up from the scape and circumference of his lips. Cleansing his sticky fingers with his mouth and returning to kiss me, my interestingly queer taste still lingered on his skilled tongue. "I've got something better for you babe," he whispered sexily as I raked my nails down the width of his firm, strong back... That night was it, the blissful farewell to my purity. The pleasurable moment of combing with his being, becoming singular in soul and mind with him through physical contact. It was impeccable, beautiful, perfectly executed. But nothing, not even considering our passionate sex, was enough to defeat the comforting promise we vowed to one another. "I love you Chris, so much." "I love you more Starlett, I always loved you."

#chris cornell #soundgarden #pearl jam #fanfiction #90s #grunge

[comicsbeat]

Yet more amazing comics debuting at tomorrow’ Comic Arts Brooklyn show!

Roopert August Lipp Revival House 56 pages, 8.5″ X 11″ 2 color offset
$10

The long-awaited debut by comics virtuoso, August Lipp. Perhaps you’ve been fortunate to see glimpses of his work in esteemed anthologies such as Smoke Signals, for example. Now, one can evince the full dexterity of his talent with the exuberant saga, Roopert. Roopert is excited to return to school after a summer of splendid adventures! His best chums will all be there: Clyve the shy badger, Benji the other, slightly shorter bear, Hannah the ballsy fox, Timothy the average frog, Clarissa the dentally-advantaged crocodile and many more. Hey, this school is a real ZOO! What kind of antics will they get up to when the bell rings and Miss Julienne the human’s 6th grade class begins? Irreverence and beastly nature are masked by overzealous displays of etiquette as the child animals struggle for agency in the face of less-than-responsible authority figures. Follow along as this comic meanders through Roopert’s first action-packed day of middle school! Adult supervision recommended. published by Revival House Press!

Hot Dog Beach #4 by Lale Westvind

High octane slapstick adventure starring Mop and Fuzz, two ding dongs trying to make a buck on a strange gig that never ends.

“BIG BONERZ: A Street Dawgz Comic Collection” by Lizz Lunney

This experimental comic tells the story of a group of canines that tackle depression, drug addiction and anger problems whilst roaming the streets and protecting their cardboard box home from outsiders. Lunney explores themes of fame/celebrity, mental health problems, class struggle, addiction and more through a pack of homeless street dogs. Lots of jokes! Lots of bones! Published by Birdcage Bottom Books 5.25″ x 7.5″, 44 pages. $7
Two-color risograph cover with b+w interior

The Loud Atlas

By Peter + Maria Hoey

Our new accordion fold book takes a surreal and funny look at the noisy world imagined by the Italian Futurists. Using the style of Marinetti and the rhyming pattern of Dr. Seuss. 8 panels and 45” inches long. Screen printed in 2 colors and hand bound on black book board in an edition of 50.

  DOMINO BOOKS

At CAB, we are proud to debut our ninth publication, BOOK OF DAZE by E.A. Bethea. Swing by table M3 to check it out—we will also have dozens and dozens of rare zines and art books available, many of them making their debut at the show.

  If you can’t make it to CAB, BOOK OF DAZE is available for pre-order now through our online shop.

  Book of Daze by E.A. Bethea. $6, 40 pages. Color cover, black and white interior, printed on newsprint.

“I first discovered Bethea’s stuff almost twenty years ago, she is one of the people whose work made me finally commit to comics as my medium of choice. With her barbed, nervous line and blunt writing style, she’s like a Duchampian voice calling for comics revolt. Her comics call out to us that no matter how damaged or how much of an outsider someone is, comics is our birthright.” -Josh Bayer, author of Theth

Book of Daze by E.A. Bethea is the kind of book DOMINO exists to publish. I first found Bethea’s work lying around an apartment I was visiting. I picked it up and from that moment on, have never forgotten it. As I began to read her dense pages, I was overwhelmed by the straightforward emotional statements and startlingly precise mind behind the sequences. In one moment, Bethea’s comics would acknowledge pain and disappointment, then turn to explain it away or justify things, only to finally confront the problem from a new angle. On the next page, simple pleasures became the focus, romantic notions embraced. Later on in the book cynical approaches to anything and everything were duly considered. All of this managed to congeal as Bethea kept another strong cloud hanging over it all: a refusal to shy away from an unashamed embrace of the full panorama of life. 

Bethea, a simple interpretation might offer, chronicles the web of living in the world with a heart and a mind sometimes at odds and sometimes simpatico. But Bethea gives us something more complex: at times, the work feels dead-pan as it shifts from exhilaration to resignation without a change in visual presentation, but it’s here where we have a guide to the heart of Bethea’s project. The often uniform nature of the pages and the highly non-uniform nature of what is contained within become a catalog of days or weeks or years. One page offers a subdued period in life, while the next (seemingly) similar page offers a day full of regret. Bethea talks about her work relating to cinema, specifically calling attention to what happens between one of her panels and the next. The shifts in emotion and carefully chosen images alongside highly precise language feel like walking into a film where the entire crew–from director to actor to gaffer—united in one mind to make something highly exquisite.

The Unquotable Trump by R. SIkoryak (Drawn and Quarterly)

R. Sikoryak frames Trump and his declarations as the words and actions of the most notable villains and antagonists in comic book history.

The House of Dickinson by R. Sikoryak (self published)

This mini combines the poetry of Emily Dickinson with the atmosphere of 1950’s horror comics.

Futile Comics #6 Mike Centeno

A 16 page look at a day in the life of a woman who deals with subway abuse, retail hijinx, and gym bros until she reaches the breaking point and has no energy left to keep all the black goop of rage inside of her.

Precious Little Lives By Joe Garber

This new American classic follows the melodramatic tragedies of a Tap n’ Scat Jazzist just trying to make her way in the world with a head full of dreams and a pocket full of toxic-male assholes.

Generous Consolation Conor Stechschulte In consolation for not having the third volume of Generous Bosom ready in time for CAB, this zine offers a preview of selected images from that book. Available on its own or for free with a preorder of GB3.

TRUMPTRUMP Volume 1: nomination to inauguration

by Warren Craghead III

Every day, Warren Craghead draws and shares grotesque portraits of Donald Trump and his minions. TRUMPTRUMP Volume 1 collects the first six months of these daily drawings with context and commentary, from when Trump accepted the Republican nomination for president on July 21, 2016 until his inauguration on January 20, 2017. — Retrofit Comics

Bestiary by Alden Viguilla

A collection of mythical beasts risographed in blue and gold.

  Final form #1 By Craig Bowers

A fantasy about two friends trying to make quick cash so they can go travel the world and two frogs slacking on the job.

The 12 Days of Christmas

Caitlin Keegan

The 12 days of Christmas, illustrated. A holiday zine that you can color (or not.) 

Twin Peaks poster

Caitlin Keegan

12×18″ poster featuring sketchbook drawings of characters from season 3.

 Bronze Enamel Sun Pin

Caitlin Keegan

Bronze + enamel pin with reversible sun face (1.125″)

I’ll also have copies of The Illuminated Tarot, which came out in April.

So What? Press Tales of the Night Watchman LLC

www.sowhatpress.com

  Tales of the Night Watchman is the story of Nora, a blogger stuck working a dead end job in coffee, and her roommate, Charlie, who happens to be possessed (in the nicest way possible) by a spectral detective called The Night Watchman. Baristas by day, heroes by night, Nora and Charlie answer the call to fight the city’s never-ending flux of supernatural activity.

#gallery-0-6 { margin: auto; } #gallery-0-6 .gallery-item { float: left; margin-top: 10px; text-align: center; width: 50%; } #gallery-0-6 img { border: 2px solid #cfcfcf; } #gallery-0-6 .gallery-caption { margin-left: 0; } /* see gallery_shortcode() in wp-includes/media.php */

Issue synopsis:

The Gowanus Golem is back! In this follow up to one of the series’ most popular tales, Brooklyn’s most toxic monster is after a couple thugs who are responsible for the death of a young boy. There’s only one problem: To stop him, The Night Watchman must protect one of the killers. Oh, and did we mention it’s also a Christmas special? Written by Dave Kelly Artwork by Brett Hobson Colors by Clare DeZutti Cover by Tim Hamilton

Over Time, Every Section Was Allowed To Grow Accordingly Aaron Cockle, New York Is For Sale, Table J2

It’s part 1 of a 2-part Franz Kafka fan comic, 32 pages

Annie Mok Loves Videogames by Annie Mok

A collection of comics, essays, and an interview, all about an abiding love and critique of games such as The Legend of Zelda, Shenmue, Sonic, and others. Annie Mok freelances for Rookie Mag, The Comics Journal, The Establishment, and others, and now makes games such as The Haunted Nintendo.

Keep Going Greg Kletsel

32 page Risograph zine inspired by the phrase “keep going”.

  Animation: Dansemorphia (on custom silicone USB’s !) Zine: Frame Drain –

Roya Haroun

blurb- Danse! Morph! Ya!

Parasite Wanderer By Connor McCann

A girl wakes up with a parasite attached to her face and the two embark on a bombastic and poetic 16 page adventure.

People of Oakland Asuka Ohsawa

When I moved from Brooklyn to Oakland in 2014, in an attempt to get to know my new environment, I got into the habit of staring at people who caught my attention, memorizing their facial features, and drawing them at home. The book is a collection of some of those sketches.

Somewhere, Sometime Asuka Ohsawa

After my dad passed away in 2016, I traveled to my childhood home in Japan often and dug through his material possessions. This experience triggered an avalanche of childhood memories that I hadn’t thought of for so many years. I decided to piece together bits and pieces of these memories in this book.

Slasher #5 by Charles Forsman

It’s all been leading to this. The final issue of Charles Forsman’s exploration into violence and sexuality. After the events of issue four, Christine lets herself indulge for the last time. From the creator of the E4/Netflix series The End of the F***ing World.

Live at the Grelman: #4 Amy Magick By Vinnie Neuberg, AT Pratt, and Derek Timm-Brock

Live at the Grelman is a collaborative storytelling stand-up comedy comic strip. All strips are written and drawn in the order that they appear and nothing is preplanned. This issue features guest strips by Drew Miller, Disa Wallander, Lane Graff, Max Huffman, Kelsey Wroten, Haejin Park, Mikey Karpiel, and Michael Furler. 40pp

Touch By Vinnie Neuberg

A new mini-comic about an online date gone awry in a Virtual Reality world. Each comic comes with a foldout poster. 24pp



False Advertising By Dylan Balliett

False Advertising is a collection of recent illustrations, comic strips, and single panel gag comics by Dylan Balliett.

The Fishes’ Ball By Priscilla Boatwright

A locket. A fisherman. A steed. The Fishes’ Ball is a short tale about a man who descends to the bottom of a lake in search of his beloved.

CAB 2017 Debuts Part Two: More exciting comics to fill your brains and shelves Yet more amazing comics debuting at tomorrow' Comic Arts Brooklyn show! Roopert August Lipp Revival House…

#CAB 2017 #Debuts #News #Top News

[hawkinsp0st]

omfg my new favorite thing ramen noodles are saying is that we’re misogynistic towards el bc we’re “saying that a woman can’t be badass and independent while also in a relationship”

ummm no i would love it if el had a significant other and i’m kinda sad there prob won’t be time for it s5. there is nothing i want more for my girl el hopper than to see her dating someone who treats her like max does—affirming, respecting her individuality, ardent and affectionate.

i’m gonna take off my byler goggles for this one just to prove a point.

i don’t want el to date mike wheeler bc:

1. she didn’t know what a friend was when she met mike. be serious

2. she thought he would be “like her brother” and he had to explain to her that she wouldn’t be his sister bc he liked her (lol that felt so gross to type out)

3. i adore mike but he was honestly a major dick in rink o mania—he hadn’t seen her in 185 days but mostly paid attention to how will was acting; knows she has a background of trauma but still didn’t do much to defend her from her bullies; and even knowing el’s trauma background & knowing that angela was an aggressive bully, he judged the shit out of el for attacking angela and didn’t even give her a chance to explain herself as to why it happened. he then exposed her for it in front of joyce for no reason like that was so unnecessary. like bro this was your first day seeing her in months please get your act together >:(

4. he invalidated her whole experience of being bullied: “you can’t let these mouthbreathers ruin you—ruin us!” huh???? this isn’t about u my brother in christ?? and el didn’t “let” anyone do anything she was a victim of bullying?

5. he couldn’t say “i love you” to her when she was crying and practically begging him to, and also, he can’t even write it and we still have yet to see him write it. it would’ve been cute to see a gift at the end from mike to el or a little note that said “love, mike” but nah, i bet you a million dollars this guy still cannot write it.

6. el was choking to death and he still couldn’t say it until he felt will’s touch and was reminded of will’s love confession in the van lmaoooo…..when ur bf’s homie has to support him thru your “big romantic love confession”

7. he doesn’t know a damn quality about her. “ooooh she likes eggos and purple and yellow” so does every other bitch on the planet. i like purple and yellow too but mike wheeler doesn’t know me. next

8. he emphasizes that he loves her powers, people are being careless with her powers, etc. he does care about her ofc but it’s always centered around her powers. “it helps her calm down and focus on her powers” was my favorite subtle s4 example of this. he’s proudly schooling argyle on el’s powers bc that’s the 1 thing he actually knows about el lmao.

9. “you’re squishing your present” shut up asshole you haven’t seen her in 180+ days just hold her tight 😭 oh right u won’t

10. mf had multiple chats while el was gone with his ~bestie~ about why he can’t say ily to el……sus

idk why i made this post i just had to get this out lol………to be clear i love mike wheeler w all my heart and he’s literally my favorite but his forced relationship turns him into the worst, fakest version of himself and he is always like that with el.

i literally love el so much, why would i want her to date this mf?????

#byler #anti m*leven