#hardon in class

[dd-writes]

.

[weird-an]

Steve's laptop is on his bed, pants kicked to the floor. He's half hard in his shorts already, but he needs some input, some inspiration and at least the illusion of something real. He's fucking lonely, totally not moping (really Robin!) after his girlfriend dumped him a few months ago.

He's not entirely sure what he's looking for, but somehow ends up here. He knows he's one of many watchers, a flood of comments already in the chat.

He blinks. The guy's name is Billy Hardon, very subtle, very classy - Well, Steve isn't here for classy. But he sits back, taking a deep breath.

Steve knows the guy. Billy Hargrove. The arrogant fucker he went to school with, that stole his stupid fake ass title and knocked him over every gym class.

Billy's body is still as toned as he was years back. His blond curls are about shoulder length, lips bright and pink like he put on some lipgloss. His left nipple is pierced and he wearing pink latex panties. His eyes are so fluorescent blue that they reminding Steve of neon lights. He's fucking beautiful.

He's also hard, rubbing his bulge a little, almost careless and distracted. There is a slight flush painted on his freckled cheeks.

Steve's dick twitches. He should close the tab. This is Billy of all people.

"I've got a new toy," Billy pants, voice low. "Do you guys wanna see?"

Steve's throat turns dry. Billy holds up a violet dildo. Steve's cock slaps against his belly.

"It's special," Billy purrs. "It vibrates. If you play nice, you can choose the setting."

The chat explodes. Steve closes his eyes for a second. He's so stupid, but he hasn't been that turned on in a while. He wants to see Billy stretching around the vibrator. He wants to tease him, to make him beg. Maybe it's because that guy has been such an asshole. Maybe Steve is a sadist. Or maybe Billy is just insanely hot.

There's another button. Go Private. The fee is ridiculously high.

Billy licks the toy. His tongue is also pierced. Steve's dick throbs.

Steve sighs. He clicks on the button. It's just for one time. Maybe he can make Billy cry.

[tgmsunmontue]

Life is too short to waste time matching socks... (1/?) WIP I

Hangster and Bob/Javy/Nat - set post mission with the Dagger Squad having been made a permanent squad.

                Bradley opens his locker and startles a little as something falls onto his head from where it was obviously balanced just on the door of his locker. Two pairs of socks, still in the cardboard sleeve, one with peach emojis and the other with eggplants. His first reaction is to roll his eyes, because it’s a little juvenile, butt and dick emoji socks. He knows none of the Dagger Squadron have a problem with him being gay. It would be a little hypocritical for some of them, considering at least half of them identify somewhere in the rainbow community, and they’ve had drunken rambling talks about it, about always having to strive to prove themselves and maybe that’s why they’ve all succeeded to become as good as they are.

                “Uh… are these a joke?”

                No-one says anything and he shrugs, puts the socks into his bag for home.

…            …            …

                “You’re not subtle. Well, actually, maybe you are, because he’s not figured it out yet.”

                “Maybe he’s figured it out and is just not interested in me like that so is just… pretending to not know so he doesn’t hurt my feelings.”

                Javy and Nat both snort.

                “What?”

                “Okay, for a start, when has he ever tried to spare your feelings?”

                “We’re friends now. Sort of.”

                “Yeah. Sort of. Because he wants to dick you down.”

                “Classy Trace, real classy.”

                “I’m sorry, since when have you ever cared about class? You’ve got a hardon for a guy that wears Hawaiian shirts by choice.”

…            …            …

                “Someone gave you socks and you think they’re… playing a prank? Normally the socks are covered in itching powder, or shoes with shaving foam, buckets of water above the door, laces tied together…”

                “It’s what’s on the socks. Here. Look.”

                Mav stares at them. Looks up to Bradley.

                “Farm produce?”

                Bradley winces, he really doesn’t want to have to explain the double meaning of the emojis to a man nearing sixty.

                “God your face. I’m old, I’m not dead. I know what those mean.”

                “So, do you think someone’s making fun of me?”

                “For what?”

                “Uh. Being gay? Having a, um, actually, never mind…”

                “You a bit of a shower huh?”

                “Jesus Mav…” Bradley mutters as Mav just laughs.

                “Clearly nothing to be ashamed of. Maybe someone’s paying you a compliment. Or they have a weird way of flirting? I don’t know what you kids do these days.”

                “I think we’re too old to be classified as the kids of today, considering some of my friends have kids who they’re already struggling to understand.”

                “Everyone’s a kid to me.”

                “Yeah well, you are ancient.”

                “Hey! You’re meant to respect your elders!”

                It’s Bradley’s turn to laugh and it’s good, their relationship slowly healing. Of course, Penny sitting them both down and acting as mediator; forcing Mav to tell him that it had been his mom’s wish… He no longer has moments of fleeting anger and resentment, realizing that life is too short to hold this grudge when he’d worked around it anyway, that it hadn’t actually seriously impacted his career progression, that it had simply been the lying and lack of support which had felt like the deepest of betrayals.

          ��     When he gets back to his accommodation he picks up the socks holds them in his hands, they’re good quality, brand new and unused and while it was clearly three pairs he’s only been given the two and he wonders if the other person has kept a pair for themselves. He’s desperate to know, a building mystery. He knows it has to be a fellow aviator, because they were delivered to his locker. So definitely an aviator. Or someone close enough to ask one of them to do it for them.

                He can figure this out.

…            …            …

                “Is this getting even more painful or is it just me?”

                “If I didn’t know better I’d think they were secretly together and winding us up, but Jake can’t act to save himself, so… he’s actually gone on him.”

                “They have a very weird way of showing each other that they like each other…”

                “Well… Rooster grew up with Mav as his role model. Were we expecting him to be normal?”

                “You raise a valid point.”

                “And Jake… well. His parents are so much older than him, his older brother pretty much raised him and he isn’t exactly the most, uh, demonstrative of guys?”

                “Is that a diplomatic way of saying he’s a bag of dicks?”

                “Don’t you like dicks?”

                “I like dicks when they’re attached to guys I like, I would make a hard pass on a bag of lose dicks just jiggling around like that…”

                Javy and Bob exchange slightly horrified looks.

                “Hey, what are you guys talking about?”

                “Bags of detached dicks…” Bob says, pushing his glasses up his nose and somehow maintaining a completely straight face.

                “I’m... I’m sorry I asked. I’ll leave you to it,” Rueben says, doing a sharp one-eighty and heading back out the way he came in.

                The three of them burst into laughter and it’s a nice break from their moan and groan session discussing the problem of Hangman and Rooster and their combined obliviousness. How they’re both so intelligent but so equally clueless makes the three of them despair.

                “Okay. I’m going to invite them both to dinner and then stand them up, so they have to have dinner together.”

                “Yeah, they could just get up and leave…”

                “No, they won’t, I’ll make sure of it,” Natasha states and the other two decide not to argue any further.

                “I’m going to suggest we do an escape room, and then need to take an emergency call… one of you are going to need to be my emergency call,” Bob says, looking between them, flushing a little as Javy simply looks at him and smiles.

                “I’m going for tried and true. I’m going to lock them in a room and then text them both and then let them sort it out.”

                “Looking them in a cupboard, real mature.”

                “As mature as them. The solution needs to match the problem. He gave him socks with butt and dick emojis.”

                “Yeah okay, you raise a fair point…”

                “Anyway, if the dinner and escape room ideas don’t work then I think we'll all be ready to lock them up. Or bang their heads together.”

…            …            …

PART TWO

[carolinaboy34]

Sauna

I was sitting on the upper level with my eyes closed, concentrating on relaxing and letting my muscles calm down after a pretty intense workout when I felt a hand slide up my left thigh. I slowly opened my eyes to see my Biology professor, Dr. Karnes, staring at me and waiting for my reaction. It was a big bet - he knew that if I said anything it would mean the end of his career. He also knew I was gay, so he probably figured it was worth the gamble. I didn’t really react or say anything, I just spread my legs a little wider and slid down a little on my seat.

The gym at school is world-class, and all of the students are allowed to join for free. Members of the community can join as well, but the cost is really high. Many of the students joined, mainly in hopes of preventing the “freshman fifteen” from destroying their high school physiques, but after a few months not many kept up their routines. We had reached a time in the year where only the die-hards continued to go, so we had developed a pretty tight community. It was weird when someone came at a different time than they normally do - we all had a pretty regular routine.

So I was surprised to see Dr. Karnes there this afternoon when I was working in the weight area. I’d already done my running around the indoor track, surveyed the people there and was working in the dumb bell area when I saw him running around the track. I’d always thought he was an attractive older man. He taught in the Biology department and was a tenured professor focusing on cellular biology and genetics. I’d already taken Bio 1 and 2 from him, and I was going to take Genetics next semester. We had talked a lot during the school year and gotten to know each other pretty well. He was married and had a couple of grown kids and had been teaching for a long time - upwards of 25 years. Being tenured, he really didn’t have much to worry about as far as job security, but the school was rocked by a scandal last year where a professor got a student pregnant and decided to marry her. So, most professors were on their best behavior after going through all of the fraternization training the school suddenly required.

He didn’t really say much while he was in the gym, just the usual hellos. I finished my work-out and headed to the locker room, getting out of my work-out clothes and grabbing my towel to head to the sauna. I really enjoyed the time in the sauna - it was usually pretty quiet and allowed me to meditate and relax in the enveloping warmth of the steam. Everyone had heard stories about activity in the sauna at the gym, but I had never experienced anything but relaxation.

I was in my own world on the upper tier of seats, so I didn’t pay any attention when I heard the door open. I didn’t even open my eyes but continued to just relax. When I felt the hand contact my left inner thigh and start to slide up toward my hip, I slowly opened my eyes and saw Dr. Karnes staring at me. The steam was thick, so you couldn’t see much past your immediate area, so I couldn’t tell if anyone else was in the room or not. When I spread my legs a little wider and slid down, it was a silent consent for him to proceed.

He slid up further until his fingertips came in contact with my balls, which he then took in his hands and slowly pulled on them, his fingers forming a small circle above my balls to give excellent traction to my sac. I love to have them played with and instantly got hard under his pressure. I remained still and didn’t otherwise react much to him, only sliding a little further down and rolled my head to the side. He opened my towel, which then fell to my sides. I was exposed to anyone if they entered the room, which excited me further. He reached up, grabbed my hardon and stroked it lightly, while he continued to pull and squeeze on my balls. He was able to elicit a slight moan from me involuntarily, which spurred him to lean over and take my shaft into his mouth and suck the head, still pulling on my sac, which he used as a sort of handle to pull me down further on the seat.

I was laying on the upper tier with my back on the seat, my legs holding up my lower body hovering over the lower tier, with Dr. Karnes in between my legs sucking my dick and pulling on my balls. His mouth was obviously very experienced as he took me in, using his tongue, lips, teeth, and throat to drive me crazy and bring me to the edge of orgasm. His continued traction on my balls while his excellent sucking drove me over the edge and I shot my load into his mouth, which was quickly swallowed down.

He never took his hands off my ball sac but continued to pull on them and dragged my body down the upper tier until I was sitting in his lap. He’d taken his towel off, and his erection was trapped up against his belly by my taint. His dick was impressively thick and average length with a narrow head above a widening, smooth shaft. He had a healthy pubic hair bush which I felt tickling against my taint as I sat on his lap. I was still in my post-orgasmic state of stupor when he tried to raise me up and push his dick down under me, so I raised up with my hands on his knees and allowed his dick to get down under me and rub against my hole.

He spit on his hand and reached down to rub it against my taint and his dick, slicking it up before raising me up with his left hand on my ass and using his right to direct his dick to my hole. I relaxed some more and flexed my hole against the head of his dick, kissing the glans with my anal ring, before dropping my weight down on his lap and taking him into the base in one move.

I sat on his lap with his dick buried in my ass for a few seconds, getting used to the girth and feeling him flex inside me. I raised up slowly then dropped back down a few times, flexing my ass as I lowered myself back onto him, his dick spreading me wide and stimulating every nerve ending in my ass. I started to pick up the pace and fuck myself on his dick as he just sat there and let me get him off.

My hard on had returned and was flopping all around between us while I continued to fuck myself, and I felt like I could cum again soon. He suddenly leaned forward and wrapped his arms around my torso and kissed me deeply, running his hands over my back and down to my ass. His arms prevented me from going up and down, so I was sitting in his lap with his dick fully lodged inside me. I flexed my ass on his dick, trying to stimulate him from the inside, which drove me crazy and was pushing me closer to orgasm again.

Just as I was about to cum again, he stood up, still holding me in his arms and stepped forward, nearly falling against the wall with my back pressed against the cooling tile. He held me up with his hands under each ass cheek and started fucking me hard against the wall, using his whole body to thrust against me and drive his dick deep inside. He was grunting into the side of my neck, drool running out of his mouth and down my chest, his shoulders pushing against my chest and driving the wind out of me. His dick was driving into me fast and deep, and his belly was rubbing against my dick, pushing me closer to the edge or orgasm again.

He continued to fuck me against the cool tile wall until I finally reach orgasm, spewing my load out the tip of my dick and coating both of us with my warm cum. The lubrication my cum provided between us continued to stimulate my dick as it softened between us, driving me crazy, and I started to squirm on his dick and hands. He doubled his efforts against me, pushing me into the wall until he froze deep inside me and fired 7 or 8 shots, painting my insides with his creamy load.

His arms started to get tired, so he let me go, and my legs dropped to the ground and he slid out of my ass, leaving a trail of cum dribbling down my leg. He kissed me again, pushing me back against the wall for several minutes. He was so sweet and gentle, holding my head in his hands while we made out. I had that euphoric post-fuck feeling and was just happy to continue the ride with this great lover. We eventually broke apart and gathered our things before leaving the sauna and returning to the locker room.

I stood in the shower, letting the warm water run down my body and gather the trail of cum left by Dr. Karnes as it traveled across the tile and went down the drain. My relaxed body reveling in the sensations and memory of losing my sauna virginity.

[icemankazansky]

Keep seing this really popular fanon (and its def fanon coz there is no canon basis for it) about how iceman has a hardon for rules and I am so confused about where that came from?? because what the movie tells us is that he makes no MISTAKES. That means his maneouvers are always the most appropriate for the situation he is in. And he gets his name from being so cool and collected that you lose it and make a mistake before he does and he gets you. Wheres all this bs about the rulebook from? p1

I think its popular to mischaracterise him like that coz folks want him to be the opposite of mav so bad. Which sucks coz they arent understanding him for who he is, only as an extension of mav. but thats not what he is to mav at all. thats not the conflict. he's not the antag - hes not saying or doing anything wrong and he cant be the protag coz hes too outwardly well adjusted with his priorities already sorted. mav has to get there thats the conflict. when mav does the conflict vanishes p2

Oh, I feel you, nonny. I actually wrote something about this the other day, but I think it was actually a response to another post, so it was easy to miss. Let's remedy that.

Re: Ice buzzing the tower with Maverick after the Layton rescue:

There is this perception of Ice as being aggressively rule abiding, but I don’t think that’s accurate. “Ice cold, no mistakes” means no mistakes, not no broken rules. Mistake means incorrect, ineffective. Did he solve the problem? Yes. What’s his math look like? That’s a different question.

Ice is juxtaposed with Maverick by the narrative, on purpose. Because Maverick breaks the rules so often, I often see this dynamic characterized as Chaos versus Lawfulness, but I don’t see proof of that in the text. What Ice represents, the subject of every argument he has with Maverick, is collectivism. One of the first things Ice says to Maverick is, “You like to work alone,” and when he critiques Maverick, it’s because he’s not considering the other pilots in the air when he flies. It’s not because Maverick is breaking rules. It’s because his attitude is about proving himself, not about working as a team.

More than that, we know that there are rules Ice doesn’t follow. We know that sometimes he’s flippant and inattentive and willfully, knowingly, breaking rules. He hears Maverick’s story about the MiG and calls it bullshit. He doesn’t pay attention in class. He chews gum everywhere, including in the cockpit of his jet at Mach 2. After graduation, Viper calls his name, and he responds to his SO with, “Yo.”

You’re goddamn right he buzzed that tower. He did it on Maverick’s wing to show him he was with him and that he’d follow him even, occasionally, to stupid places, and that’s a promise he kept for four decades. Maverick taught him things, absolutely, and I am very sure that buzzing that tower was the first in a long line of things Iceman Kazansky would do because of Maverick’s influence.

But ice cold, no mistakes does not mean that it was the first rule he broke in his life, and I love that about him, honestly.

[maletofujoshi]

had to tell a transmasc friend that their packer was a little too prominent. like. i understand the logic behind using a packer but like You do not want to look like you have a hardon 24/7. like. not in math class.

[pornosophical]

I feel like a webcomic site that has more accessible and usable search would do a better job of getting new eyes on subjects that interest them

I wish I had of millions of dollars so that I could replace some dumb executive. have you guys read the interviews with the CEO of Reddit? the whole executive class watched Elon destroy Twitter’s workforce and they got a collective hardon and now they want in

we gotta get those guillotines up and running and wow this post escalated

[hollowthyme]

New Year’s Writes tm: roomie is trying to set a goal that, one week every month, they write 500 words per day and tbh it is a good idea. So we’re trying to do it together! Since I was pretty worn out tonight it’s a standalone drabble, so. Here ya gooo. 

587 words, based on the prompt list [here].

scrosciare - the action of rain pouring down or of waves hitting rocks and cliffs

 The rain never ends. Its pattering fills this place; it runs down the dark, grand spires crowed with nail-sharp spines, cascades down aqueducts in shimmering rows alongside the paved roadways, impressively intact despite the years and years of neglect.

 … This city was beautiful before.

   Quirrel does not know how he can picture it as it must have been so clearly, but from his lookout high above, he looks down and can almost see it: the roads, milling with bugs of all sizes and dress—the visitors with their umbrellas, none of the native bugs would use them—filling a bustling marketplace lit bright with strings of lumaflies, little hatchlings scampering in the plazas with their pets, guards watching fondly beneath all their pomp and armor. It was a city bursting with life. His eyes find a low wall, half-repaired, and he can imagine the menderbug who would have worked there, their buckets of plaster and piles of smooth-carved stone beneath a little tarp to keep the rainwater out of their work.

 He does not know how he can picture it, but he does not question it. The images are pleasant and come to him freely, unlike those he has seen before, in other, less-ordered reaches of the kingdom.  

He lets himself sit and watch, claws on the glass that shimmers with sheets of water.

 He can almost ignore the husks, here.  

Part of him marvels at how proud they must have been, how devoted to protecting their charge for their bodies to continue their duty after their passing. The other part of him spies a long-dead sentry’s corpse stir, sees the orange leak from between the plates of their shell, sees the flash of their orange eyes in the half-dark of the city, sees the way their body clumsily moves as they heft themself into the air on tattered wings and he shudders.

 It is his pity for them, the bugs they once were, that looses his nail when he must, but the sentry is not aware of him. Down there, far below in the fountain plaza, something small and white shines, a pale glow that makes him sit forward on his bench and peer downwards.

 The little wanderer is there.  

 He wonders at their story, watches them flit with expert grace around the husk sentry’s clumsy nail swings until it falls into the dark water below, dispatched with ease. Their nail glints as they wipe it off and stow it, pittering up to the fountain.  

 It is a curious thing.

 He stares down at it himself, at the ‘Hollow Knight’ cast in marble, at the plaque before it. At the wanderer who looks up at the stone, a moment of rain soaking their shell in silence.

 Quirrel squints. There is… something. The Knight and the Wanderer, his brain struggles to recall, but seeing them side-by-side, part of him knows…

 The Wanderer bows to the statue. They fiddle with their cloak, and depart, silent as they came, side-stepping the still-twitching limb of the sentry as they vanish back into the shadows, back into the depths of this ruined kingdom, but something still glows on the edge of the fountain where they lingered.

 It is a flower.  

 Pale and white and luminous, placed before the Knight’s stone cloak, its petals bruised by the city’s tears.  

… Voiceless, but not unthinking.

 His eyes widen, memories whispering back to his mind as he understands.  

 The flower. An offering to their kin.

[aschenink]

did you know. i once made a really shitty website about solomon asch

WAIT REALLY

HIT A GIRL UP WITH THAT LINK

only if you want obviously but akjdfhjsal