eltanin

hi, you can call me eltanin (not my real name).

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.

she listens so well — she wants to be a perfect girlfriend for him so he won't start thinking she’s incapable of ever catching up to and being as good as all the other girls... as long as he thinks she's normal, she can fool herself into believing it.

meanwhile mike is scared of her fitting in with them, because then she'll start to learn things on her own and not need him anymore to teach her. he can't have that — he feels so special and important when she looks at him with that wide-eyed curiosity.

he hates when she doubts him or doesn't care. he needs to tailor her to him so she never starts thinking he's a nobody, some random nerd. he's gotta get to her first and keep her isolated and dependant on him.

and he teaches her everything he wants her to do — has her suck him off, let him fuck her in all her holes, put up with the overstimulation when he eats her out as long as he likes. and he convinces her to stop grabbing at him, touching him all the time, clinging to him.

tells her it's how things are — in public, she can hang off his arm, but in private you don't do that. really, he just hates feeling constrained, dragged down by her, hates her suffocating touch. a reminder of her feelings for him.

he teaches her to let him just use her mouth to soothe his oral fixation, biting and sucking at her lips and tongue, having her stick it out so he can suck on it for minutes at a time. it doesn't feel very good for her, but he tells her it's how you're meant to kiss.

mike marking his territory by peeing on will, will's nose twitching all confused and overwhelmed by mike's scent and the warmth wetting his clothes. mike got in trouble for that one, and joyce was surprised and a bit worried when will comes home smelling so sharply of the wheeler pup, wearing things from the lost and found.

mike kicks up a fuss when they're separated in class, and though he averts his gaze and lowers his tail when bullies make fun of them, will hears the quiet growl rumbling in mike's chest as will's foot thumps nervously.

when they haven't seen each other for a few days, they get really excited, will hopping and spinning around in the air, mike wagging his tail so fast his body is shaking. they often bound toward each other and tumble to the ground, rolling around happily on the grass.

will lets mike chase him, but mike figures out early on he has to catch him pretty fast, or else will gets tired of the game and starts stomping and grumbling. so mike always catches him, nipping at will and giggling, sometimes peeing a little in excitement and overstimulation.

mike usually is the one grooming will, intending to show affection and care, nibbling his ears, licking his cheeks, flattening his bangs when they're messy, licking close to his mouth and whining at him with his big brown eyes as will giggles and blushes and says it tickles.

and will takes it as an act of submission, feeling surprised and flustered by mike's behaviour, especially when mike has rubbed his chin on will to scent him, peed on him, chased him... so one day while they're cuddled up in a recently built castle byers, will tries to groom him in turn.

he's used to being more passive, and is tentatively trying to show he's okay with at least reciprocity. mike melts when will nuzzles his forehead and fluffy ears, and will is again confused by how he flattens himself, ears flat back even as he nudges into will demandingly.

so will lets mike groom him, but also reciprocates when he bows his head and waits for will to nuzzle his hair. he lets mike rub his head under will's like he's trying to make him chin him, claim him... it's not so unusual, right? licking can just be affectionate...

some dominant bunnies do groom others — they just decide when to, but get offended if the submissive bunny refuses to groom them. will doesn't think he's like that, though — mike's the one who gets whiny and sulky if will doesn't groom him. he's not quite sure what to think.

so he asks joyce, and she laughs and tells him mike's culture is different from theirs — it's not so black and white for him. she's making a quick dinner before her shift, nose scrunched as she listens to all the things mike does, hiding a smile at will's flustered whining.

finally, pushing his plate in front of him and kissing his head, she says, "sweetie, it sounds like he just wants you all to himself. you're all mixed up, and he might not even be thinking about who's in charge and who's not."

will scrunches his nose, worried. "but somebody has to be!"

joyce ruffles his hair. "if it bothers you, just ask him, baby."

will blushes, nibbling at his food. "it doesn't— bother me..."

joyce sits and digs in to her quick meal, a knowing smile on her face. she hums. "just talk to him."

at recess will asks what exactly he means by all that, asks how their friendship is gonna be. he picks at the grass nervously. mike's eyebrows furrow, and he shrugs. "you're my best friend. i like when we take care of each other. and i don't want anybody else to do it." his ear twitches.

"but who's in charge?"

mike blinks. "um. i dunno. probably me?" he frowns. "no. you could be." he tilts his head. "i dunno. both of us?"

he peers up at will, and will says "this! this is what i mean!"

"huh?"

will blushes. "you're all..." he gestures. "down there. why're you down there?"

mike looks down at himself, hunched to be below will. "i dunno. just like it?"

"but then you get all mad if i don't... if i don't, like, listen to you. and stuff."

mike's ears droop. "sorry," he mumbles. he tears out a clump of grass.

"no!" will scrunches his shoulders. "i just don't get it."

"well... why does it matter? like, why can't we just not worry about it?"

will ducks away as mike sits up, voice louder and a little upset. will's nose twitches nervously, and mike's ears instantly go flat.

he bows his head submissively and peers up at will through his eyelashes. "sorry," mike whispers, licking his lips, a tentative smile exposing his sharp teeth. when will relaxes, mike darts forward to lick his cheek and mouth. "you can be in charge if you want."

"i don't—" will giggles as mike nuzzles under his chin, nudging till will scents his hair. "okay, okay! mike!" mike pulls away, beaming. "maybe you're right," will admits, rubbing his wet cheek. "we can both be, i guess."

mike's tail thumps, and he lunges forward to send them both tumbling onto the grass. will yelps, and they roll around, nipping and laughing till they smell like grass and clovers and each other.

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."

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.

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?”

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.