age: 20
country: canada (english + français)
pronouns: he/him
sexuality: bisexual
focus: art and english lit
interests: shakespeare, music, films, passing interest in psychology, politics, and philosophy
socials: click me!
key tags:
eltanin vents for venting, duh
eltanin yaps for ALL my original posts except vents and nsft. could be politics, shitposts, stuff from my other main tags, whatever, but it won't be vent or nsft
eltanin nsft for my original nsft posts. just words, no pics or audio
nsft for anything nsft at all, mine or reblogged. i don’t reblog any media because my previous blog got terminated randomly and i’m gun-shy
elt locks in for any self-improvement shit (weight loss, working out, self-care, school, etc) or even tangentially related shit.
eltanin’s art for the rare times i post my doodles and shit. usually just sona stuff, i’m not really an artist
eltanin’s pics for photos i took of stuff
fandom tags click here for my fandom-specific tags
mutuals for my moots. i put them in a jar
important shit:
fuck censorship, fiction doesn’t owe you moral purity. fuck ai, creativity isn’t a chore. fuck jkr, embrace piracy. fuck label police, i love my friends with weird and contradictory labels. fuck cringe culture, i love being weird. fuck conservatism, the left is the side of humanity.
this is not strictly a vent blog, nor is it an nsfw blog, nor is it a weight loss blog. it’s just my blog, where i post whatever i’m thinking about. that being said, i do post about all of these things and more.
i may post abt weight loss sometimes. do not armchair diagnose me with an eating disorder. i do not have an eating disorder and i dont want to develop one. thank you.
feel free to send me nsft asks of any type (including pics as long as they're safe sane and consensual [no illegal shit] [obviously])
my posts are always ok to reblog. if i didn't want u to i would turn reblogs off.
stevemike and steve is so fucked out he accidentally calls mike “nance” mid thrust...
when it registers, mike is so conflicted… he's jealous of steve's imagination or subconscious, hurt that he's nothing more than a replacement but accepting it over nothing at all just to feel a little wanted... and he feels weird and swirly in his stomach at the thought of his sister being fucked like this, alongside a shameful burn of pride that maybe he feels as good as a girl, not just any girl but nancy.. good enough to trick steve's brain...
s2 madwise… she finds him intriguing, he’s so quiet and odd and reminds her of her best friend from cali (who was also gay). they get closer, and she jokes to him that mike hates her and dustin and lucas both like her, so which is he? well, probability dictates—
he gets flustered, and she says she’s just messing with him, she knows he doesn’t like her. he looks nervous and rushes out that she’s really cool, like way cooler than most girls he knows, he never met any girls who like all the stuff the party likes—
she cuts off his rambling, saying she thinks he’s cool too, ok? he says ok, and he still looks nervous. he's thinking its probably not that, but… has she totally heard all the things people say about him? has she assumed they’re all true?
he doesn’t really know how to ask, but then she interrupts his spiralling thoughts by confessing that he's her favourite in the party. dustin and lucas are being total weirdos about her, and mike is a jerk. will frowns, but can’t argue with that.
and she muses, "you know what would be funny? if you told them we kissed. they'd totally flip out.”
will blushes bright pink and says "but we didn't. i don't—"
"we could." then, glancing around, she says quietly, "you don't like girls, right?"
he looks terrified, and she rushes out, "it's okay! it's cool, byers. just... d'you wanna try kissing a girl this once, just to say you did it? without having to have a girlfriend or anything?"
his heart is still racing as she says, "we don't have to, but it'd be funny to see the look on their faces. and that way you know for sure."
very quietly, after a long pause, he whispers, "i— i already know. for sure."
she shrugs. "okay! sorry, i didn't mean to be weird."
she hides her disappointment, giving him a crooked smile.
"okay. we can do it." he sounds decisive, though his voice shivers.
"oh. seriously?"
will looks more certain. "yeah. just the one time."
steve talking m11 thru their first time, mike whining and melting into it when steve's big hands reach out to gently guide him. steve caressing el's hair so she doesn't feel left out even as mike thrusts, his big dark eyes flicking between steve's face and the bulge in his jeans.
steve's bigger hands swallowing mike’s as he shows him how to grope el's little tits. mike grabbing steve's chest, saying "like this?" while putting on those big innocent puppy eyes.
steve manages "y-yeah, just like that," brow furrowed and dick twitching because the kid's blatantly groping him when his girlfriend is right there…
"eyes on el, mike..." steve has to say yet again whenever mike’s eyes drift from the girl he’s literally inside of up to his older mentor. and steve had a sense mike had a puppy crush on him — why else would the kid accept him being here right now? — but now he sees mike simply isn't attracted to girls at all.
so steve does what any sensible, compassionate person would do… he keeps talking and touching and lets mike look, just to get him through it without ruining everything for el.
madwise like to put on a show for the party. they make out, dryhump, grope each other... it's all in good fun. when they get drunk they get so handsy, but only do anything in front of the others. until she's touching him subtly, privately, and it feels more real than before...
they slip out to the porch to sit alone on the stairs, drunk, smoking, shotgunning, making out... things escalate quickly until they're gasping into each other's mouths and she's got one hand in his pants, the other guiding his palm up to her chest.
she asks if that's weird for him, and he says yeah, so she lets go... but he doesn't move it. he just keeps cupping her tit, wide, glossy eyes darting over his friend's face. and then they start making out again.
I'm usually in another fandom but for reasons your blog is popping up on my dash regularly (I don't mind, I love it!) , sooo I hope it's ok to ask, can you please introduce a little gcest to granny (which is me) - like where does it come from, were they kissing for real, im all over curious (and sorry to bother you!!)
Hello! Welcome! I’m hardly a historian (mostly I’m just a freak) but I can give you a rundown and some resources.
First of all yes, they were kissing for real! We have three caught on camera but the most famous one was at the beginning of a set they played at Loch Lomond for 40000 people. This one is very famous because we have so many angles of it
This is the entry point for a lot of gcesters including myself because, I mean look at it.
(That silver bracelet that Noel is wearing actually belongs to Liam, they have matching silver and gold bracelets and Noel’s was the gold one, he just wore Liam’s to tongue kiss him. They both still have them. Because brothers)
Some gcest highlights include groping, extremely questionable lyrics (My Sister Lover and Guess God Thinks I’m Abel are the two biggest examples) remarks that they’re in love with each other and have had sex with each other, strange repeated comments by Noel about the criminality of his and Liam’s relationship, and an incident where Noel kidnapped Liam so they could spend alone time in a house, it’s so much that it’s hard to remember all the essential points off the top of my head.
I recommend reading the Gallaghercest primer on ao3, it’s a good starting point though it’s a bit dated (being written before the oasis reunion)
The @oacest blog is also a really fantastic archive of gcest stuff as well as general oasis history, you can spend hours scrolling through it
I think that covers the essentials, I don’t wanna overwhelm you with stuff (and there is so much stuff omfg these guys so fucked) I hope you have fun digging into it!
s3 mike distancing himself and not touching will for the first time — usually will is the one to hesitate or pull away first — and will is so frustrated and confused and hurt he shoves down any embarrassment and guilty thoughts that he’s a creep and starts initiating touch.
and mike looks uncomfortable, keeps pulling back, avoiding being alone with him, sometimes even seeming, flushed and tense, like he wants to shove him away, and will feels sick over it because oh god, did mike figure it out? has he guessed the gross stuff will thinks about?
finally, he snaps, and, in a moment of utter unabashed frustration, grabs mike and yanks him into his room, pushing him down to sit on the bed. he cuts over his squawking protests, forcing his shaking voice to hold firm as he demands, “what is going on with you?”
“what? what are you—”
“you’ve been acting like i’m— like i’ve got the plague or something!”
mike shifts, gripping his knees tightly, eyes darting around desperately as will looms over him.
“you don’t— you don’t ever wanna hang out anymore, or—”
“we’re hanging out now! or we were before you decided to start being totally crazy, i mean—”
“yeah, hanging out on opposite sides of the couch reading different comics. what happened to us? a few months ago we would’ve been in here, reading over each other’s shoulders, and now—”
“people grow up, okay, will? it’s not my fault you missed the memo.”
will flinches, taking a tiny step back.
mike lurches, then seems to stop himself. will’s eyes dart over him — his flushed, guilty face, hands protectively grasping lanky thighs, elbows crooked awkwardly inward.
“right,” will says shakily. “my bad. i guess i’m just not as mature as you, huh?”
mike’s mouth twitches, knuckles going white. finally, he croaks, “i’m sorry. i shouldn’t have— i didn’t mean that.”
“no, no,” will says, taking another step back. “it’s what i get for clinging to you like some stupid dog. pretty pathetic, right?” he scoffs, trying to pretend like his vision’s not blurred with tears. “don’t worry, i won’t try to— try to touch you again. or read stupid comics with you. or anything.”
“will—” mike’s voice breaks.
“just forget it, mike. go home, okay?”
mike’s legs tense, but he doesn’t stand. his fingers twitch.
“go home,” will repeats, scrubbing a hand over his damp cheeks.
mike doesn’t move. his chest is rising and falling rapidly, and he’s looking away like he’s pretending not to hear.
will scoffs in disbelief. “seriously, michael? now you want to spend quality time with me?”
mike makes a huffing, whining noise, nostrils flaring as he tucks his head into his shoulder. will stops himself from grabbing mike’s face and forcing it to him. instead, he steps closer and leans down slightly.
“mike?” he feels stupid, like he’s backing down already on his righteous anger, but he asks, “are you okay?”
mike squeezes his eyes tightly. “peachy. thanks. can you just—” he swallows and jerks his head toward the door.
will’s jaw drops. “seriously? this is my room. this is my house!”
“i know, i just—” mike swings his head up to look at him, and his eyes widen at how close he’s gotten. “jesus christ, will!”
will’s heart lurches, but he only barely pulls back as mike’s face flushes even redder.
mike’s knees knock together, elbows digging between his thighs in a hunched, unnatural position. will’s eyes dart over the pose, and before anything really computes, mike digs his own grave with a pathetic, “i’m sorry.”
and it clicks.
will’s lips part in a shocked ‘oh’, and he stumbles back, his head reeling. he’s vaguely aware he’s also saying sorry, for some reason, and why did mike say sorry anyway? random boners are embarrassing, and will would totally die if he were mike, but he sounded so… defeated.
mike’s saying something, starting to stand, and will instinctively pushes him back by the shoulder. mike whimpers, and will jerks back like he’s been burned. “sorry!” he yelps again.
and then it hits him, confusing and impossible as it is — mike’s only been avoiding will.
he’s tolerated lucas’ hair ruffling and friendly punches, and max’s less friendly ones, and he’s constantly got el hanging off his arm, pressed to his side, practically breathing down his neck. if that doesn’t incite any reaction, but he’s intentionally avoiding will’s touch…
will can hear his blood rushing in his ears. no way. he was so paranoid about his own secret, so scared of coming off as some predatory freak, that it never occurred to him…
“mike?” he says tentatively.
“i’m sorry, okay?” it comes out angry, but will knows he isn’t. “i’m sorry for being a jerk.” mike swallows hard, curling in on himself even more, brow furrowed. “i mean, it hasn’t exactly been a walk in the park for me either. it’s not your fault, it’s my stupid— i mean, i miss you, will, i’d rather hang out with you than elev— that’s the whole problem!”
his eyes search will’s appealingly, and will’s stomach flutters. “yeah?” his voice sounds low, with a quiet tremble of anticipation.
mike blinks, face stubbornly red. “y-yeah.” he looks away, and will, astonished by his own boldness, this time does reach to pull mike’s chin back up.
mike’s lips part, glossy and red from anxious chewing, and his eyes widen. his pupils have devoured his warm brown irises, and his breath comes in shallow little bursts. “will…” it’s a cracking whine, and will becomes abundantly aware of his own shorts growing very tight.
embarrassment mixes with a strange rush of power as mike stares up at him. “will, don’t— if you’re messing with me it’s seriously not funny.”
will almost falters, but mike’s a vision of barely restrained hunger, so he says, nervous but sure, “do you really think i’d do that?”
mike’s mouth is clearly dry — he licks his lips and struggles to swallow. “no.”
“good. because i wouldn’t.”
mike relaxes, untwisting slightly.
“i—” the words catch in his throat, but will pushes them out. “i like you too much for that.”
a terrifying moment in which he fears he somehow misunderstood what mike meant when he said the whole problem is he’d rather be with will than his girlfriend.
mike stares. will’s fingers quiver where he’s still gripping mike’s jaw. “you like me?” mike finally whispers.
“well… yeah.”
“like, as more than friends?”
“yeah,” will whispers.
mike inhales shakily. “oh.” he lets out a deep breath, all the tension leaving his body. “oh. okay.” a tiny smile begins to curl his lips.
“do— do you like me too?” will prompts, feeling foolishly nervous.
“yes! yes, obviously! yes!” mike rushes out. “jesus, will, yes. so much. jesus christ. yes.”
“okay!” will laughs, light-headed with shock and relief, his hand relaxing and drifting to cup mike’s face.
mike flushes. “can i— can we—” he swallows hard. “i really want to kiss you.”
“then do it.” will's voice only shakes a little.
mike slowly stands, unfurling from his defensive potato bug stance, and hesitantly places his hands on will’s waist. will’s heart thumps, and mike pauses as if to drink him in.
his eyes rove over will’s face, until will plaintively breathes, “mike.”
mike’s lips twitch in a smile, and he leans down and brushes their lips in a soft kiss. when he pulls away a few moments later, they’re both pleasantly pink-faced.
after that first little kiss they can’t get enough, obviously. shy and tentative at first, they quickly grow bolder until they’re properly making out, mike’s hands gripping will’s waist like he thinks he might disappear.
mike doesn’t even let their lips disconnect when will rests his hands on his shoulders and backs him up till the backs of his knees hit the bed. only when will pushes him to sit down again do their lips part with a pop, and a gasp from mike as he falls back.
will doesn’t have time to let self-conscious doubt creep in, because mike is reaching up and tugging him in by his shirt to lead him into his lap. they’re flustered and giddy and overwhelmed, eagerly reconnecting their lips and finally getting to be close as they’ve always wanted.
mike is incredibly hyped about this new development because he never did more than sitting politely, hands to himself, while making out with el, and any time she tried to touch him he managed to wriggle his way out of it.
with will, he doesn’t want to do that. not at all.
he’s been restraining from touching him for way too long, used to always being able to hug him or rest his head on his shoulder or even grab his hand. if he could, he’d crawl into will’s skin and live in the cage of his ribs. and this summer, when he’s been walking around tanned and flushed and glistening in the sun, always wearing shorts that don’t fit him like they used to, well. holding back has been torture.
he’s constantly jerking his eyes away from will’s soft thighs, practically drooling over the underwear peeking out when he sits with his knee to his chest. tossing and turning every night, waking up achingly hard or with a sticky mess in his briefs. never trusting himself and his filthy mind to be alone with will. but now… now he’s allowed to touch.
what’s more, will isn’t doing that little awkward thing he does sometimes where he pulls away, leaving mike embarrassed without knowing why— oh, god, he definitely felt guilty for liking it when mike got all touchy and affectionate.
he’s not feeling guilty anymore, though, and mike isn’t holding himself back from wrapping his arms around will’s waist and hugging him tightly, from letting his hands rest on his hips and tentatively playing with the waist of his denim shorts, from spreading his palms and letting them slowly drift toward will’s ass, down his thighs, squeezing as will honest-to-god whimpers into his open mouth and rocks his hips down.
and holy shit, mike’s never wanted to touch anyone more, he never wants to stop. will jolts back, embarrassed, but before he can topple away, mike grips will’s ass and guides him down again, pressing his face into the crook of will’s neck and inhaling deeply, stifling his whines as heat twists in his belly.
sparks of pleasure flash with every bit of newfound friction. feeling will, hard in his rough denim shorts, grinding and thrusting, rubbing against mike’s thinly clothed dick, is exhilaratingly overwhelming, and with will’s gasps and whimpers in his ear mike’s definitely gonna make a mess in his shorts in, like, three seconds holy shit!!!!!!
note: mike is gay in this, but he is not aware of that, so this is effectively just dubcon m11.
thinking abt s3 m11 making out and el trying to show appreciation the way she learned in the lab by touching him. mike tries to stop her even though he should totally want it, demanding where she learned that. she tilts her head and says it's what he gets when he's good...
her fingers trail over his soft dick, circling the tip. his body jolts, curling protectively, and he grabs her hand in panic. el looks confused and, worse than that, hurt. he fumbles through an excuse that hopper will totally kill him if he finds them like this.
her fingers are still resting on his dick, despite his hand gripping her wrist, and he can’t explain why all he wants to do is pull it away, despite the tightening in his shorts. she wiggles her fingers, teasing the head of his cock, and he lets out a choked whine.
she smiles, but it’s the phrasing — it's what he gets when he's good — that really makes his head spin. anyway, his body is responding, so this weird sense of wrongness must be a total fluke, right? but el is pouting, saying she does not care if hopper comes in, this is normal...
and despite how weird and overwhelmed he feels he remembers how she began to strip in front of the party when they met, how he was the first to teach her about privacy, and that bad feeling gets real heavy in his gut. he tries again to pull off her insistent hands.
she ignores him, like papa did when she pulled away in fear as he drew close, because she didn’t know if he’d punish her by hurting her or reward her by making her feel good. mike’s nervousness is okay too. he’ll get over it, like she always did, once she makes him feel good.
but mike insists, asking again where she learned this stuff, who taught her, and el sighs, relenting and pulling away for a moment. “papa,” she says, like it should be obvious.
she reaches out to touch him again, but mike yanks away, nausea rising. “eleven, no. seriously.” a lot of guys would refuse to look a gift horse in the mouth, shut up and take advantage of a girl not only willing but eager to touch his dick. but mike’s not like that. “he shouldn’t have done that,” he explains. “it’s bad.”
she looks at him wide-eyed, hands twisted in her lap. he isn’t sure if he should even explain just how bad it is. she doesn’t seem so harmed by it, really — would he just be making it worse? but she’s looking up at him like she’s waiting for him to teach her something that makes no sense, and it’s so familiar it steels his resolve.
he tells her those are supposed to be private parts, and grown-ups and family shouldn’t touch there, nobody should without permission.
she looks worried for a moment, brow furrowing, but then says, “but you are not a grown-up, or family, and it feels good. so it is not bad.” he has no good answer, and she nods decisively and reaches out again.
this time he doesn’t stop her as she rubs back and forth, drawing little circles on the head. he thinks she’s touching him like a girl. he wonders if it means papa never made her touch him back, then feels ill.
he pushes his face forward, capturing her lips in a kiss and burying the nausea. he kisses weird, he knows, too much biting at her bottom lip, pulling her tongue into his mouth and sucking on it. he’s never seen anybody kiss like that. but he likes it.
she probably accepts it because she doesn’t know any better. maybe he should feel bad, for that, and for kissing her when she’d just learned what a friend was, but jesus, apparently she’s been doing all this long before his kiss. he’s hardly the most backwards part of her life.
he stifles the voice asserting that makes it worse. she’s getting what she wants now, so he should get something he wants too, simple as. (jesus, why’s he acting like accepting a handjob is him doing her a favour?) still, he welcomes the comfort of her tongue filling his mouth.
his dick is finally showing real interest, tenting his shorts as she rubs two fingers over his tip. sparks of pleasure make his thighs tense. her other hand slides to cup his face, and before he can censor himself he whines complaintively, vibrations buzzing her tongue.
she takes it as encouragement, and he doesn’t mind when her hand drifts back and settles in his hair, fingers twisting in a way that always sends a shiver down his spine. she hums, pleased, but he knows the truth is he’s just sensitive there. he’d react like that for anyone.
his gut twists guiltily, but it’s easier to ignore when she’s playing with his hair, making his brain tingle and hips jump eagerly. he licks around her tongue, sucking her spit into his mouth and swallowing. she gives his hair a final twist, then slides her hand down his arm.
it settles on his hand, and she pulls it to the wet patch on her shorts, wanting him to reward her too. he fumbles, lanky fingers clumsily mimicking the way she’s touching him. rubbing in circles, sliding up and down between her folds. his stomach twists.
he convinces himself it’s because he’s thinking about where she learned this, about papa touching her like this. that’s it. the act itself is a normal part of growing up. clearly his body thinks so, hips jumping under her touch. at least his dick knows what he’s supposed to want.
she begins tentatively tracing the sides rather than focusing only on the tip. he whines when she finally grips him hard and fast, and after all the teasing he comes with a shameful whimper. she keeps sliding her hand up and down even as he’s whining and jerking desperately away.
rather than use words, he bites her tongue. she yelps and stops, but not before snapping the back of her hand against his overstimulated dick in retaliation. he chokes, mind and body shuddering. he’s barely moving his fingers anymore, just letting her ride them how she likes while they're slotted in her folds through her shorts. his head spins, overwhelmed.
she’s breathing heavily through her nose, whining with her tongue still trapped where he's sucking at it like a pacifier or a cock — jesus christ, where did that come from? and then she shudders, pulling away to free her tongue, only to lean in and kiss him again the way she prefers while she comes. she keeps thrusting lazily for a few more seconds before it becomes uncomfortable. then she shifts her hips back, smiling like the cat that got the cream, and says, "good."
Noel: "It's the first time I've ever sat down and gone, 'Right, I'm going to write a Number One single.' We'd recorded it, mixed it, mastered it, done the artwork and I got up every day and said, 'I don't like it. Liam, the woman he is, goes fucking apeshit. 'You're off your head! You're smoking too much fucking pot! I'm not going to fucking speak to you, you fucking dick!' and slams the phone down.
Noel: There was never one point where any of us where worried – apart from Liam who’s like a woman who’s on a fucking permanent menstrual cycle all the time about everything. He’s either way up in the clouds or way down in the gutter.
Nole: Oh, I love it when women cry. They turn into these big blubbery things. I love making women cry and knowin' I was th' one what made 'em do it. And the only thing better than making women cry is making me brother cry, so I can laugh at him and tell him he looks like a woman.
just like, if there's a history at your institution of disabled kids not being able to make it you realise that's your fault right. like why don't you fucking do something about it. i guess they tried to do something about it with me and it failed so they let me go. crazy. nice work. why should we try to do any better.
only 5% of people with adhd who go to college finish a degree. FUCKING. FIVE!!! PERCENT!!!!!!!!!!!
that should disgust and enrage you.
if any other demographic of students had a 95% failure rate, we would be demanding reform and studies to understand why that’s happening
when i was at my first university, trying to get accommodations for my ADHD, they just kept asking me what accommodations i wanted, and refused to answer when i would ask what was available to me. how the Hell am i supposed to know what i can have? what’s available???? also, i don’t know!!!! i’m an adhd sufferer, not a fucking disability expert for the fucking college, unlike you, DISABILITY EXPERT WHO WORKS FOR THE COLLEGE.
but because the us is OBSESSED with making sure no one gets anything “”for free””, she literally would not tell me what my options were until i broke down in tears and asked her why she was refusing to help me. and then she did a big sigh, like i was fucking up her entire career by *checks notes* asking the disability center in my university to help me, a disabled student
at the second uni i went to, i tried to explain to a dean that i was literally two gen eds that had nothing to do with my degree away from graduating and that i was burnt out and broke and exhausted and suicidal and i just needed to be able to finish my degree without the gen eds. and this. fucking. guy. looked me right in my face and said in the most patronizing tone he could muster “if you can’t handle it, then maybe college just isn’t for you.” keep in mind that up until that semester, i had been an honor student who made Dean’s List every semester and didn’t get below Bs. if it hadn’t been for my mental breakdown, i would have graduated cum laude, maybe even summa cum laude.
but this dean of students looked a disabled person right in the face and said well i guess you just can’t do it, short bus
Pulled these from a couple articles really quick but yeah the statistics are not kind. I remember writing a scathing essay about my issues with ADHD and college as part of an assignment for academic probation. I got back an email calling me entitled and lazy. Somehow, this thread helps me feel a lot better. I still have about a semester of school unfinished that I’m unsure if I’ll finish but… yeah. Makes me feel better to know it’s not just me.
PSA: The Job Accommodation Network maintains a searchable database of accommodation suggestions for a wide variety of disabilities.
The full database can be accessed here and the ADHD page is here. The full database can be filtered by disability, by limitation, by work-related function, by topic, and by accommodation. Many of these accommodations are applicable to academic settings as well as the workplace.
Here are the section headers for ADHD accommodations ideas to give an overview of what the page contains - this post would become Do You Love the Color of the Accommodation if I attempted to list them all here
The ADHD page linked above also includes case examples and strategies for determining what sort of accommodations might be necessary. More broadly, the JAN website as a whole is a treasure trove of information related to the Americans with Disabilities Act and resources for both individuals and employers.
ADHD and learning disabilities in general are so fun because you can be dignosed with a disability, show your papers showing you have a disability and everyone agrees you have said disability, yet every single time you struggle or are /disabled/ in some way because of it you are just told "Oh, everyone's like that. Try harder."
How do you think Mike and wills first time trying pet play would go??
i think it'd kind of just happen naturally and be incredibly unnegotiated because i'm pretty sure those boys don't really know that pet play's a thing
i imagine the sex would start out pretty normally, with mike on top and will on bottom. mike already gets pretty pathetic and whiny when he tops will, and will thinks it's just about the hottest and cutest thing ever, especially when mike looks up at him with those wide, wet puppy dog eyes of his as he pounds into his hole, sex-stupid and wholly focused on making it good for will
"you're doing so well, mike," will tells him, revelling at the pleased little whimper mike gives him in return. "just like that, you're making me feel so good"
mike let's out a little gasp as he keeps thrusting, too preoccupied with the task at hand to respond
will likes tugging on mike's hair when they fuck. it's soft and gives him something to do with his hands, and mike always makes the prettiest noises. he places his hand on mike's curls, pushing his fingers into them, almost like he's petting him
"so good for me," he murmurs again. mike looks up at him with those sweet puppydog eyes
mike does remind will of a puppy a lot, even outside of sex. he's so overprotective, always following will around and hovering like a guard dog. he's rather needy, constantly begging for attention like a dog when he feels like he isn't getting enough. he's eager to please, willing to do just about anything will asks him to. and of course, there's those eyes. wide and pleading and just asking for praise
"good boy," will says, without even thinking
mike seizes up, making a low keening noise. will would think he was in pain, if he didn't know mike well enough to understand that was a pleasure response
"good boy," will repeats, feeling a little more confident now as mike's eyes squeeze shut, strokes getting a little sloppy as his face twists up in pleasure. "my good dog"
mike makes a louder, more strained noise at that
will can't help but giggle a little as he asks, "you like that? you like when i call you my good dog?"
mike is bright red by this point, whining out "shut uuuuup"
"stupid puppy," will says, "you know dogs can't talk"
mike whines as he continues thrusting harder, gripping will's hips and keeping his eyes shut, like it's all too much for him
will hesitates on the next sentence, unsure if it's too much, but he ultimately decides to continue
"do you want to tell me how---shit---how it feels?"
mike lets out another shuddery gasp
"wanna tell me how much you like being my good boy?"
mike starts to stutter something out before will stops him with a sharp tug on his hair
"what did i say? dogs can't talk"
mike stops moving for a moment, opening his wide puppy eyes to look up at will in confusion, before realization dawns on him. he looks embarrassed, almost ashamed of the conclusion he comes to
"be a good dog," will says lowly, watching the hitch of mike's breath. "speak"
mike pauses, before lowering his gaze and letting out a pathetic little yip
will reaches down to start jacking himself off as he asks, "what was that?"
mike whines and begins moving again, making that same hiccupy woofing sound, like he's still trying to figure out how to make it sound right in his mouth
"fuck, do it again for me, puppy"
this time the bark is a little louder, a little clearer, more similar to the sound mike is actually trying to make
will tightens his grip on mike's hair, grasping the curls as his strokes quicken and his orgasm approaches. "good boy," he gasps, "good fucking dog"
mike whines again, high and desperate, before lurching forward, thrusting twice before he reaches his climax and collapses on top of will. will follows right after him
will releases his grip on mike's hair, starting to pet him instead and giggling as mike starts to come out of that weird headspace
"oh my godddd" mike groans, hiding his face in will's neck in embarrassment
will burrows his hand in the hair, scratching at mike's scalp "such a good puppy"
anyways will starts constantly calling mike puppy and it only takes them like a few weeks to invest in a collar after that so
i genuinely got so horny writing this at school that i almost passed out and now i want to write a full fic. uhhh
