#steve grove

[squarehead333]

Dylan Horrocks, Alan Moore, Steve Grove and Dan Clowes: imagining comics that don't exist.

[texaschainsawmascara]

this is insane

[wroteclassicaly]

A/N: We’re blaming Joe for always acting up, and Steve for whining that I cheated on him, so he sent me mega inspiration for this one ☺️😛

Warnings: Language, overall NSFW, sub!Steve to the extreme, spit play, rough sex, leaving marks, cowgirl goes riding position, possessiveness, friends with benefits, best-friend!Steve, mentions scars, consensual smacking (m receiving), finger sucking, e.t.c. This is just no plot with some trash and love poured in ;)

You love it.. Just like this. His baby blue curtains blowing, whipped around by evening’s up and coming Autumn breeze, hints of salty summer trickling through, remaining, a few apple and cedarwood candles mingling with your perfume, Steve’s cologne, and the heavy scent of sopping wet sex. You’ve got a low lamplight to guide your two person show, in your element, unafraid, owning it, protecting him, taking for you. Some song rolls on his record player, one you often prefer over the stereo when you get into these types of moods. His body is your map and you’re the Queen explorer, pleasuring yourself with each and every treasure that he has to offer.

The black gloss of a fresh manicure stares back up at you from where you’re clawing into his hairy chest, chestnut tufts matted down by perspiration and your drying salvia. Okay, so you’d gone a little crazy when you marked him, but it’s not your fault that the little gold chain he wears looks so good laying against his golden baked skin, begging for contrasting shades of magentas and navy blues. You’d done one of Steve’s favorite things, after all: healing his scars by using your mouth to carefully taste each one, every single time. He didn’t have much time to worry about them, because there you’d be, understanding, helping. He whines loudly, a sound that causes you to clench around him, making you struggle to retain your control.

Your bouncing on his thick cock ceases, that creamy squish causing a wet ring to circle his base and smear across his navel. Holy fuck, you’re really wet tonight…

And Steve, god love him. He can’t even look. Mossy eyes blown black, his eyes have rolled up and are caught between clenching shut and closing entirely. Your hand leaves his chest and cracks across his stubble littered jaw, nails pinching in to jerk his gaze towards you. He throbs, jumps inside your walls, that sucks him in deeper.

“Wake up, Harrington! Am I boring you?”

He shakes his head so fast that you bury a snort deep within, humming out instead. “You gonna talk to her again? Look at her again?”

The start of your possessive streak being upped tonight. In the downtown costume store, Bambi Anderson had found Steve with a fascination that gagged, modeling her cat costume and practically draping herself across his arm to ask what his plans were. And he’d crossed his arms beneath that black, vee neck long sleeve, chest hair and chain on display, dark jeans tight and leaving nothing to the imagination, secured by a black belt with a thick silver buckle. He’d worn new black boots, a differing choice for his growing style. A leather jacket was tossed lazily over his shoulder, pissing you off.

When you’d left the store, Steve had taken you back to his. And well, you’d taken him. On your knees against his front door to get him hard, quick enough to have your way with him. You didn’t want fingers or mouth, you needed to show him who belonged inside of.

“No, fuck no —“ Steve stops himself, choking on spit, inhaling and exhaling sharply. “Fuck, I don’t even remember what happened, honey.”

“Walking around teasing me like you do. Wearing tight jeans, smelling like a fucking male model ad, licking your mouth when you put tapes away. And that chain? I mean… showing it with your chest hair, Steve? Jesus Christ… You really do need to be watched at all times.”

He’s nodding, agreeing, that aching heat builds to a wet crescendo, threatening to drench you both.

You lean down a little closer, one hand wrapping around the tendons in his wrist, the other still keeping you balanced on his chest so you can keep moving your hips, dragging his fat cockhead against that spot inside that he’s called his for years. Your mouth is hot when you pant the words by his lips. “You deserve to be sat on. Just pull your pants and underwear down, have a seat on you all day. Cockwarm you so these bitches know where you belong, who you belong to.”

“Baby —“ You’re lifting his own wrist, cutting off his sentence, pulling apart three of his own fingers and pressing them into his lips. “Fucking suck! I’m talking now. I’ll let you know when you can answer me, slut!”

His hips arch off the bed, giving a piston into you, before remembering his place and suckling his fingers onto that hot tongue that’s had you seeing stars and planets. He doesn’t break eye contact, not even as you start to move, holding his wrist there with a squeeze, leaving nail marks, only to release and take it with you, a thick line of spit stringing from his fingertips to his swollen mouth. You swipe down and lick it off, pushing his arms up beside his hand and interlocking fingers. You shift and he pulls, every part of him tugging on your overworked cunt, sore and throbbing. He’s way more than a damned stretch.

“Where’s your fucking lube?” Your vocal language continues to fly free as you raise your hips a little and he struggles to tap beside him on the sheets, eyes glazed over and glossy. Fuck, is his lash line wet? Is he actually crying? His hair is a tousled and damp mess. He’s never been more beautiful, more sacred to you.

You crack open the bottle and let it drizzle onto the part of his cock that’s slid out of you, spreading it around on your own cunt and discarding. You sink back down with an overly squelching echo. “You and this fucking python, Steve. It’s the true monster of Hawkins, isn’t it? This fat cock, always splitting me wide open.”

He vibrates. You’ve never felt him pulse that hard in you, nearly triggering your orgasm. Shattering it apart, fragmenting. Your eyes widen. “If you fucking come, I’ll keep riding you until you’re screaming.”

You break that briefly, raising a brow to check in with him through this, soft and compliant to his needs, because you want nothing more than to fuck him stupid and care for him forever, despite your dizzying haze. He nods, in synch with you. Good to go.

You bend yourself down, hands sliding up and through his chest hair, tugging on his chain, nipples hardening as they brush over, pressing, the fat of your tits squishing when you’re right against him, held. You finger-tap your way up his biceps, fingers unfolding and nails scratching, leaving his upturned palms to cup the sides of his face, nosing him. “Mine.”

And that he is…

// Eat me paragraph //

[signorinaclaudiacardinale]

Claudia Cardinale at the Oscars:

On 04/06/1965 Steve McQueen participated in the 37th Academy Awards 1965 as co-presenter with Claudia Cardinale for the Oscars for best sound.

They presented the famous statuette to George R. Groves for the Warner Bros Studios film My Fair Lady.

Rock Hudson, Claudia Cardinale and Steve McQueen with wife Neile Adams at the 37th Annual Academy Awards (Oscars), April 1965.

Claudia meet for first time Rock Hudson:

Claudia wore Nina Ricci dress:

[purplesimmer455]

Sienna invites Megan, Iseul, and Steve to have dinner with her. Steve helps her cook bison stew and three sisters chili (I wanted to try the food options we received earlier). Meanwhile, Megan and Iseul set out the plates and cutlery.

The four of them sit down to eat, and Iseul smiles as Steve chats with Sienna about horse breeds and training, a conversation that goes over her head but she enjoys listening to. Megan puts a hand on her arm and Iseul smiles at her. "You ready to go home tomorrow, jagiya?" Iseul asks, and Megan nods. "Yeah, I am. It was fun but I always miss snuggling with you in our bed." Megan says and smiles as she hooks her leg with Iseul’s under the table.

[oliver-stark-lover]

So, uh, yeah, I'm trying to post more, but motivation is down

[nervoussystemmusicreverence]

Aztec Camera - Working In A Goldmine

Music Video

Artist

Aztec Camera

Composer

Roddy Frame

Lyricist

Roddy Frame

Produced

Rob Mounsey

Credit

Roddy Frame - Vocals, guitar Rob Mounsey - Keyboards, keyboard programming Will Lee - Bass Steve Jordan - Drums Carol Steele - Percussion Lani Groves - Backing vocals Gordon Grody - Backing vocals Robin Clark - Backing vocals

Released

November 9 1987

Streaming

[thatwritererinoriordan]

Will Ferrell was in Beech Grove yesterday. That's only a few miles from me. Dammit, I could have pitched him Yugoslavia!, the Will Ferrell-Hugh Jackman-Brandy Norwood movie idea that came to me in a dream.

[insidecroydon]

Suited and booted: Norbury Alli's donations and No10 access

WALTER CRONXITE, political editor, profiles the former Stanley Tech pupil who has risen to become a millionaire media mogul and the Labour Party’s biggest donor Generous to a fault: Lord Waheed Alli of Norbury, in the borough of Croydon, is said to be worth £200m The clue is in his Lordship’s title. But the “Free Gear Keir” cronyism storm was made right here in Croydon, thanks in large part to…

[gigijb1969]

2024 SystemsGo Rocket Launch Event Preparations for White Sands Missile Range

The SystemsGo team left Fredericksburg in two shifts, one at 5:30 a.m. and the second at 9:15 a.m. this morning headed to Alamogordo,, New Merxico for lodging for White Sands Missile Range (WSMR) rocket launches. Schools from Union Grove, Alamo Heights and Brazoswood also traveled to Alamogordo today to meet and begin preparations for launches this Saturday The early crew, Rebekah Hyatt, George…

[1000leaps]

#136 | Steve Jobs: "I have changed my position 180 degrees."

(image from here) As Pixar became a graphics technology leader in the mid-1990s, an Intel engineer once asked Steve Jobs for advice on how Intel, the chip maker, could improve its graphics performance. Jobs replied to the engineer and Intel CEO Andy Grove that Pixar could help, but it had taken Pixar over ten years to develop the know-how. Divulging the knowledge would be like giving away a…

[denimbex1986]

'Opening Friday, Sept. 15, the Rehoboth Beach Film Society’s Cinema Art Theater presents “Oppenheimer,” a cinematographic masterpiece by director Christopher Nolan that looks into a profound historical event, and “A Compassionate Spy,” the incredible and gripping documentary about a brilliant scientist and his profound impact on nuclear history.

The society is featuring these critically acclaimed films as part of its look back on the Atomic Era which kicked off with a sold-out screening of “Top Secret Rosies” and a discussion with filmmaker LeAnn Erickson.

Set during World War II, “Oppenheimer” sees Lt. Gen. Leslie Groves Jr. appoint physicist J. Robert Oppenheimer (Cillian Murphy) to work on the top-secret Manhattan Project. Oppenheimer and a team of scientists spend years developing and designing the atomic bomb. Their work comes to fruition July 16, 1945, as they witness the world's first nuclear explosion, forever changing the course of history. The all-star cast includes among others Emily Blunt, Robert Downey Jr. and Matt Damon.

Directed by Steve James, “A Compassionate Spy” tells the story of controversial Manhattan Project physicist Ted Hall, who infamously provided nuclear secrets to the Soviet Union, told through the perspective of his loving wife Joan, who protected his secret for decades. Recruited in 1944 as an 18-year-old Harvard undergraduate to help Robert Oppenheimer and his team create a bomb, Hall was the youngest physicist on the Manhattan Project, and didn't share his colleagues' elation after the successful detonation of the world's first atomic bomb.

Concerned that a U.S. post-war monopoly on such a powerful weapon could lead to nuclear catastrophe, Hall began passing key information about the bomb's construction to the Soviet Union. After the war, he met, fell in love with, and married Joan, a fellow student with whom he shared a passion for classical music and socialist causes, and the explosive secret of his espionage. The pair raised a family while living under a cloud of suspicion and years of FBI surveillance and intimidation. The film reveals the twists and turns of this real-life spy story and the couple's remarkable love and life together during more than 50 years of marriage...'

[reasonsforhope]

"The Yurok will be the first Tribal nation to co-manage land with the National Park Service under a historic memorandum of understanding signed on Tuesday [March 19, 2024] by the tribe, Redwood national and state parks, and the non-profit Save the Redwoods League, according to news reports.

The Yurok tribe has seen a wave of successes in recent years, successfully campaigning for the removal of a series of dams on the Klamath River, where salmon once ran up to their territory, and with the signing of a new memorandum of understanding, the Yurok are set to reclaim more of what was theirs.

Save the Redwoods League bought a property containing these remarkable trees in 2013, and began working with the tribe to restore it, planting 50,000 native plants in the process. The location was within lands the Yurok once owned but were taken during the Gold Rush period.

Centuries passed, and by the time it was purchased it had been used as a lumber operation for 50 years, and the nearby Prairie Creek where the Yurok once harvested salmon had been buried.

Currently located on the fringe of Redwoods National and State Parks which receive over 1 million visitors every year and is a UNESCO Natural Heritage Site, the property has been renamed ‘O Rew, a Yurok word for the area.

“Today we acknowledge and celebrate the opportunity to return Indigenous guardianship to ‘O Rew and reimagine how millions of visitors from around the world experience the redwoods,” said Sam Hodder, president and CEO of Save the Redwoods League.

Having restored Prarie Creek and filled it with chinook and coho salmon, red-legged frogs, northwestern salamanders, waterfowl, and other species, the tribe has said they will build a traditional village site to showcase their culture, including redwood-plank huts, a sweat house, and a museum to contain many of the tribal artifacts they’ve recovered from museum collections.

Believing the giant trees sacred, they only use fallen trees to build their lodges.

“As the original stewards of this land, we look forward to working together with the Redwood national and state parks to manage it,” said Rosie Clayburn, the tribe’s cultural resources director.

It will add an additional mile of trails to the park system, and connect them with popular redwood groves as well as new interactive exhibits.

“This is a first-of-its-kind arrangement, where Tribal land is co-stewarded with a national park as its gateway to millions of visitors. This action will deepen the relationship between Tribes and the National Park Service,” said Redwoods National Park Superintendent Steve Mietz, adding that it would “heal the land while healing the relationships among all the people who inhabit this magnificent forest.”"

-via Good News Network, March 25, 2024

[paperbackribs]

tags: steddie, pre-canon, season S2-ish, tommy hagan will always have a crush on Steve Harrington

🩵💥🩵

“Someday, you're gonna get bitch-slapped, and I'm not gonna do a thing to stop it,” Steve hears the echo of his words in the Hawkins High boys’ bathroom. Spinning off the tiles, pinging against its corners and stabbing at Tommy who stands gasping at his best friend.

But Steve doesn’t care. This has been a long time coming.

Tommy is a prick and Steve thought there wasn’t anything wrong with going with the flow, ignoring the snide comments, looking away from the rumours that Carol would spread, as long as his friends remained by his side.

But Billy Hargrove had infected Hawkins High. Steve stopped swallowing the cool aid. And Tommy is fuming; red in the face and ready to take it out on any unfortunate soul that crosses his path.

Enter Steve.

Or, really, enter Eddie Munson.

Steve wasn’t sure if Tommy followed Eddie into the empty toilets or coincidentally came across him or whatever could be going on in the mixed up mind of his former best friend. But watching Tommy square off his stocky, muscular body against the other boy, boxed into the corner and wide, brown eyes only visible over Tommy’s shoulder, Steve swears that he’ll no longer look away from Tommy’s indiscretions.

So, he says it again, nodding to the leather clad boy in the corner, “Eddie’s going to take a swing at you and not only will I not defend you, I might even fucking taking a swing too.”

Tommy gapes, “What the fuck, Steve? I know we’ve been having troubles, but you’d take the freak’s side over mine?”

Eddie’s face twists in the background. Steve can see the anger warping his eyes and he doesn’t blame him, almost wishes that Eddie would take a swing and then Steve could just stand back and let it happen.

He sighs: he’s allowed a lot of things to just happen so far and it’s not to his credit.

Weirdly, Steve's resigned gaze meets Eddie’s incredulous look and, just for a moment, Steve feels like he’s met someone who gets it. Someone who sees the ridiculous, short-sighted nature of the petty bullying in the hallways of their high school and knows how stupid and utterly pathetic it is.

Steve swears that the corner of Eddie’s lips kick up at the irony of their shared understanding but is distracted as Tommy strides forward, knocking against his shoulder hard enough to send Steve spinning against the wood of a stall. He steadies himself as Tommy slams the bathroom door shut behind him with a clamorous bang and shakes his head: how could he have had such loyalty for a guy who won’t even stop to talk out their stupid shit together?

Steve thought he’d at least earned Tommy’s patience, a moment of Tommy’s time so they could talk this out and find a way forward again. He stares after his former friend, a hollow, gaping hole in his stomach as he grieves the friendship he thought they’d shared.

Eddie approaches with a gentle hand, laying it on Steve’s shoulder, “Are you all right, man?”

Steve swallows around the thickness in his chest and belatedly realises that his cheeks are wet. He clears his throat and, through a tight smile, says, “Yeah, don’t worry about it. Are you okay?”

The deep richness of those brown eyes regard him for a long moment and Steve feels stripped bare. He thought he was the guy rescuing Eddie, but he suddenly feels like the one vulnerable and exposed to the other boy.

Eddie smiles softly, “Yeah, got saved, right? How could I be anything but peachy keen?”

Steve snorts despite himself, amused by Eddie’s tongue-in-cheek tone, “Like a summertime in Georgia.” He can’t help but flash to Tommy’s retreating back and hates that his tone is already bitter, “Except I’m the stupid fucking tree alone in the grove.”

His head twitching slightly to the side, as if he were weighing Steve’s words, Eddie lightly responds, “Well, maybe it’s time to try another field. Wanna hang out sometime?”

Steve blinks, bewildered at the offer. The suggestion given so freely and without conditions seems anathema to his experience of friendship, and especially friendship in the complex halls of high school. He eyes the other boy suspiciously, but Eddie’s eyes remain clear, his body loose and almost curled towards Steve as if he were the north to his compass.

What could it hurt? Steve thinks.

Looking at what he can only describe as kindness in Eddie’s eyes, Steve thinks that a lot of things could hurt. Could burn or scald or stab, but the sweet, clear acceptance in Eddie Munson’s eyes has him thinking of a world where Steve can offer his loyalty and receive it in kind. A place where he can be good and feel like he’s doing good and perhaps a lovely brown-eyed boy would wait and tell him he’d done the right thing.

Eddie sticks out his hand in a gesture of friendship that only bolsters the words he’d already extended to Steve. And nothing moves in the cold room of Hawkins boys’ bathroom, no wind or breeze, but as Steve reaches out to clasp Eddie Munson’s outstretched hand, he feels a seismic shift that he can’t explain.

Steve’s fingers fold around the warmth of Eddie’s palm and Eddie’s full lips stretch into a smile, welcoming and true. A gesture that Steve can’t be sure of, can’t let himself fully trust; yet, nonetheless, Steve finds himself hopelessly following after Eddie’s extension of friendship.

And it'll eventually allow Steve to follow him to the confusing halls of the Hellfire Club.

To the strangely welcome space of Eddie's uncle’s trailer.

And Steve follows.

Because he is helpless but to follow this wide, brown-eyed boy who smirks at him with a knowing smile.

[illwilledomen]

That boy the cleric picked up is strange all right. Old shepherd Yosef found him half dead in the grove over the hill, scared him silly, took him to the church. Small little fellow, his nose a little deformed too, I don’t think he can smell too good. Don’t speak much aside from his name… “Steve”. We don’t know what village he came from. Crazy old Earwig, he thinks he’s one of the illfolk’s abominations, says we should let the golems deal with him, but I don’t see it. He aint some war-beast. There’s just something different about that boy.

[purplesimmer455]

Back to the alternate universe:

Some random photos of Megan goofing around with Steve, Sienna's horse Flapjack getting stuck in the door while talking to his human, and Iseul passing Megan while making a goofy face.