#hopefully you guys have as much fun with this as I did! :)

[ladykailitha]

A Love Connection Part 1

In a very special engagement (as in a don't normally post 5 days a week), I introduce "A Love Connection"!

If the premise looks familiar the original idea is from here, where a couple of people in the notes or tags said they'd love to try it. And after a year, I figured I'd try my own hand at the idea.

This will update on Tuesdays at 10am and 10pm EST. With hopefully eight chapters.

Summary: Steve has tried everything under the sun to find someone to truly connect with, so he gives up after a particularly horrible date. Then Chrissy introduces him to her favorite game show "Love Connection". When Chrissy and Robin apply for him, they don't think they'll except him, but he does. His suitors are Billy Hargrove, Tommy Hagan, and Eddie Munson. Will Steve crash and burn again or will his connection be there waiting for him?

~

Look, to say Steve’s love life was a disaster would be unfair. That would be underselling it. It was a fucking catastrophe. He had gone to bars, joined hobby groups, used all the apps, even Grindr; though that was mostly for hookups, which sucked. But that was the nature of the beast if he was honest.

And the beast had completely devoured him. All his dates were either only interested the casual, cheated on him, or wanted one-night stands. Which Steve absolutely did not want. He wanted connection. Intimacy.

“I absolutely give up,” he whined to Robin, after the last date tried to slip out in the middle of the night, knocked over their lamp into their goldfish bowl, killing the goldfish, then he tried to hide the evidence by dumping it down the garbage disposal and turning it on! Lied about it, then stole their last beer as “compensation for his trauma’ and told Steve to never call him again.

“Look, Ryan wasn’t the best guy,” Robin replied with a grimace. “He liked Oasis and Tool unironically. Always a red flag.”

Steve snorted. Robin was a music snob most days, but she wasn’t wrong about that. Ryan and he had been dancing around and with each other for weeks before they finally got so hot and heavy that they went back to Steve’s for sex.

“It’s not fair,” he huffed. “You went to that bar and you a hottie girlfriend and I went to that bar and fucked a fish killer! I loved Garfield! He lived for five years before that bastard mercilessly murdered him. That’s long than my last ten relationships combined!”

Robin winced. “Ooh... I’m going to have to call Chrissy and let her know we can’t go back to that gay bar again.”

“Oh he’s so dead now!” Steve ranted. “Not only is he fish killer, he has driven us from our favorite bar!”

“Let me order us some take out,” Robin said standing up, “then I’ll call Chrissy over and we’ll all cry over Ciarán Hinds and Amanda Root falling in love.”

Steve sniffed away a couple of tears and nodded. “Then can we have a funeral for Garfield?”

Robin tilted her head and smiled sadly. “Of course we can. It’s a Sunday so none of us have work. We can watch as many weepy romance movies as you want, okay?”

“Okay,” Steve croaked. She gave him a big hug and kissed his cheek. He watched her wander into the kitchen to see what leftovers they had in the fridge so they could order from somewhere else. He loved her so much.

~

Sometime in the afternoon when they were more than a little tipsy, Chrissy commandeered the remote and turned on her favorite game show.

“Love Connection”

“Noooo...” Steve whined, burying his head into a throw pillow. It was Garfield shaped. It was what inspired the naming of the valiant fish. “This is the last thing I want to see. It’s so fake. No one gets together on these things. It’s so cheesy.”

“Exactly!” Chrissy crowed. “That’s why it’s perfect, we get to make fun of them!”

Steve thought that the only good part of the show was the second half. The first half was split into three different rounds. The first round was each suitor answer the one question, for a total of fifteen and then the catch would rank them, best got three points, second two, and third only one.

Then in the second round there were a set of rapid fire either or questions that the catch would yell out and the suitors would write down their answers. If their answer matched the catch’s they would get a tally. Whoever had the most tallies would win five points. Then three points to second place and one to the last place.

Then in the final round, each suitor would be asked separate questions and the catch would rate their answer one through three and that’s how many points they would get. Then at the end of the round all the points would be tallied up and the two highest would move on to the next round.

To the part that Steve actually liked. The first question always asked was “what would you do for a first date?” And the suitors got to take the catch out for the date and then afterward for drinks, the two dates would ask the catch some of the questions he asked them. Then the catch would pick the one they connected to the best.

It was all the stupid questions that bothered Steve. That was the fun part of dating, having these conversations and learning about them as you go. But then maybe that’s what Steve’s problem was, is that the people he dated didn’t care about these types of conversations.

“Why would you say you hate sports,” Steve huffed, waving his hand at the screen, “when the guy is a major soccer fan? Like did she think that she was going to put a stop to him enjoying it after starting dating?”

“Ooh yeah,” Chrissy agreed. “Just pick a different catch.”

Robin turned to her and tilted her head. “Do they get to chose their catch? I thought it was all random.”

Chrissy paused the show and pulled out her phone and the Wikipedia article. “Okay, it says here that people can apply to be suitors,” she waved at the row of women in the three booths. “Or catches.” She indicated the guy with her hand. “If they’re chosen to be a suitor then they are given a list of catches, headshot included. Then they rank vote them, so if four people pick Henry, then one will be on their second rank vote. And that part is randomized. According to them, anyway.”

Steve snorted. He highly doubted anything was randomized or voted on. They went for the biggest drama and everyone knew it.

“How long has this show been going on?” he huffed. “Like please tell it’s new and shiny and that’s why people like it.”

Robin snorted and shook her head. “Sorry, babe. But this is season twelve.”

“Oohh...” Chrissy said. “We need to show him the season six finale. That was hella juicy!”

So despite Steve’s protests, Chrissy pulled it up on her streaming services even though they hadn’t even finished the episode they were on.

When the credits rolled, Steve stared at the screen in utter shock. “What the honest fuck was that?”

Two of the three guys got into an all out brawl when the one guy had scored the lowest and felt that the second place suitor cheated. Not first place, second. Both guys were arrested and hauled off the set.

“It came out later Sven was right,” Robin said. “Elliot cheated. His cousin was an ex of the catch so he went in knowing a lot about Stella. The things he got wrong were things that had changed since she was dating his cousin.”

Chrissy nodded. “That’s why the have partitions up between the suitors now and why they have vigorous screening now. The show was almost canceled.”

“So why wasn’t it?” Steve asked honestly. “That was a shit show, if I was Stella I would have sued them into oblivion.”

Robin squirmed uncomfortably in her seat. “She did, but they settled out of court.”

“Basically,” Chrissy said, pouring them more wine and handing the first glass to Steve, “she wanted them to completely overhaul the system. She didn’t want it off the air, she wanted it safer for future participants.”

“The more the fool them,” Steve huffed. He took a long sip of his wine. “All right, fine. Let’s start at the beginning.”

Robin and Chrissy cheered and they all huddled up together on the sofa to watch this absolute train wreck of a show.

They were about half way through the third season and twice as drunk when Steve slurred, “Why are there no gay peemles in this? It’s a trav–trad–tramajesty.”

“Travesty!” Robin slurred back, her language skills always being the last to go when she’s three sheets to the wind. “And you are absolutely right! This is homophobic!”

Chrissy nodded solemnly and pulled out her phone. “I’mma show them...” she muttered with her tongue sticking out. “At loveconnectionUSA Need more gays, hashtag loveconnection hashtag need more gays.”

It wasn’t long after that that the three of them passed out on the sofa, empty bottles all around them and a message on the screen asking if they’re still watching.

~

There was a loud beeping noise and it absolutely was hurting his head. He reached over to where his phone was usually plugged in on his nightstand, but his hand went straight through it. He waved his arm all over the place but still his nightstand eluded him.

He peaked open one eye but his vision was obscured by a mass of blonde hair. He tried to push it out of the way but it kept falling back into his face. Finally he pushed Robin off him and onto the floor with a thud.

“Hey!” she yelped.

Steve peered over the edge of the sofa with a look of confusion. “Why are you on the floor?” he muttered over the still beeping of his alarm.

“Stop!” he mumbled and somehow, blissfully it did.

“I’m on the floor because you pushed me there,” Robin huffed, getting to her feet. She did a sniff test and grimaced when she completely failed. “God... how much did we drink yesterday?”

Chrissy struggled to sit up and blinked at her girlfriend groggily. “Not enough if I feel like this.”

Steve rolled over and looked at them both in confusion, then the events of Saturday and all day Sunday came flooding back in.

“Oh fuck...” he muttered, sitting up himself and rubbing his face. One eye was blurry from where his contact had shifted in the night. He wasn’t even sure why he had them on. Probably from sheer force of habit.

He got up and stumbled toward the bathroom where he emptied his stomach of all its boozy contents. He really didn’t remember them eating after breakfast, only a steady stream of harder and harder liquor.

While his was puking his guts out, Chrissy and Robin stole the shower. Thankfully only taking the time they needed to get the gross feeling of being hungover off their skin.

Then Steve closed his eyes as they exited the shower and snuck into Robin’s room to get ready for work. They all worked at Hawkins Middle School, where Steve was a history teacher who coached swimming and basketball. Chrissy was a health teacher and advisor for cheerleading. And Robin was the language teacher. The principal snatched her up because she could teach French, Spanish, and Italian, with her only needing to hire a German teacher.

Steve got his shower and then opted for glasses instead of his contacts, not trusting his shaky hands not poke out his eye or some shit.

They all were mostly human once they got coffee, painkillers, and cereal in them, the three of them, no doubt looking like escaped extras from a zombie flick. They moved as one, gathering up their stuff and shuffling out to Steve’s car. Chrissy sat in the back, Robin riding shotgun.

Chrissy opened her phone to check to see if she had any messages. “Holy shit!”

~

Look I'd be sorry about the cliffhanger, but you're only waiting 12 hours for it, soooo...

Have fun!

Tag List: TEN SLOTS OPEN

1-@mira-jadeamethyst @rozzieroos @itsall-taken @redfreckledwolf @zerokrox-blog

2- @gregre369 ​@a-little-unsteddie @chaosgremlinmunson @messrs-weasley @cryptid-system

3- @maya-custodios-dionach @goodolefashionedloverboi @val-from-lawrence @carlyv @wonderland-girl143-blog

4- @justforthedead89 @irregular-child @bookbinderbitch @bookworm0690 @forgottenkanji

5- @anne-bennett-cosplayer @yikes-a-bee @awkwardgravity1 @littlewildflowerkitten @genderless-spoon

6- @dragonmama76 @ellietheasexylibrarian @thedragonsaunt @useless-nb-bisexual @disrespectedgoatman

7- @counting-dollars-counting-stars @tinyplanet95 @ravenfrog @swimmingbirdrunningrock @lingeringmirth

8- @gutterflower77 @a-lovely-craziness @just-a-tiny-void @w1ll0wtr33 @beelze-the-bubkiss

[procyonloser]

"And that's why Jesus was the coolest rock star to have ever lived." Adam said, sitting backwards on his chair, looking out over the crowd of kids who were only half paying attention. "How about I play you guys a little guitar, and we can sing about how much we love the Lord?"

A half hour later, and Adam was slamming the door to the youth group room and bidding it a very thankful farewell. He'd gone to college to study music, he'd spent his life playing the guitar, and the only fucking place that wanted to hire him was his childhood church. Fucking figured.

"Ugh," Adam groaned, tugging off his jacket, because they didn't want the kids seeing his less than family friendly tattoos.

"Adam!"

Adam startled, and turned, having to look down to see the pastor. Adam remembered him as the youth pastor when Adam was a kid, but now Lucifer ran the joint. He was bright eyed, happy go lucky, and Adam could admit this church had the best theatrics in the state. They really went all out for Christmas and Easter. Lucifer had lines under his eyes that creased deeper as he smiled, but he always put Adam on edge.

"Heeey....you." Adam got out awkwardly, pointing a finger at him. "How was the sermon? Get any fainters?"

"No, no," Lucifer laughed. "It was great though. My wife Lilith and I sang about the gospel, and my daughter Charlie passed out communion. It was a lot of fun. She's getting so big."

"Uh huh, super cute." Adam said, forcing himself to smile. Lilith was a bitch, and Charlie was a horse girl in the making; he couldn't stand being around any of them for long. He just wanted to go to a bar, get blasted, and fall asleep to the sound of Jeopardy and hopefully someone sucking his dick. God, he really needed to get a band together and get out of this place.

"Are you busy?" Lucifer asked, smile never changing. "I'd like to talk to you about the holiday season sermons, privately?"

Adam's smile faltered slightly. This was why Lucifer weirded him out. No matter what he said and did, no matter how much he showed off his perfect little family; whenever they were alone together, Lucifer practically eye fucked him to completion.

"Uh...sure..." Adam said, fingers tightening on the handle of his guitar case.

"Great!" Lucifer said, leading him down the hallway by putting a hand on Adam's hip. It linger far too long, and it wouldn't be the last time his touches strayed towards Adam.

Even if Lucifer was supposed to be a man of God, all Adam could see this place as was a church of sin.

[thatrandomidiot182]

Fret not my friends, for this is only the end of the 'Canon' timeline! I have two alternate endings in the drafts along with the side chapters, so although the main series is over until Season 3 of HOTD comes out, I still have lots of stuff planned for Velaryon! Reader in the future! Hopefully you guys stick around to see.

⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘

VELARYON! READER FINALE (For now...)

Aemond, having been left to his devices in Kings Landing, decided to take it upon himself to help Reader as best he could.

Thus, he reaches out to the Blackwoods with an offer...

Reader, in the meantime, has taken a minor detour from her march. Instructing (Threatening) Jason Lannister to continue his conquest, "With haste." As she pays a visit to 'an old friend.'

Back at the Red Keep, Helaena continues her training, now with more fervor, and can often be spotted astride Dreamfyre amongst the clouds day in and day out.

Alicent, defeated and weary, now grows suspicious of her sons prolonged slumber. The maesters claim that he is in decent enough health, and their confusion only validates her suspicion.

As she is busy frolicking in the Kingswood, one of Readers' most trusted maids rushes her husband before Aemond with very important news.

After the discussion, Aemond hastily writes to Readers host, and the morning he does, Silverwing is chased back to Dragonstone by Vhagar, with Dreamfyre hesitantly trailing behind as they meet Rhaenyras newfound 'allies' in confidence, before turning back to Kings Landing.

On Dragonstone, Hugh speaks with Ulf after their conversation with Prince Jacaerys.

Rhaenyra mulls over the decision to strike against Aemond, but Corlys is hesitant due to Dreamfyres' appearance the day before.

Back at the Red Keep,

Aemond utilizes Readers' incoming fleet and writes to them, instructing them to catch as much fish as they possibly could before docking, as the new restrictions on the harbor are bound to cause issues with the smallfolk.

Helaena and Alicent discuss their emergency escape, with Helaena withholding her true plans at Reader's behest.

Aemond reaches out, inquiring Helaenas aid, but the Queen is hesitant, and Alicents objections don't help.

In the end, Helaena agrees to fight under the condition that she is the last line of defense and that Jaehaera and Alicent would flee while she flies. She writes to Reader that same night, inquiring how this would affect their existing escape plan.

Meanwhile, Alicent has her own plans...

Jacaerys, on the other hand, is going through an existential crisis. The whole 'army of bastards' situation has made him rethink the entire conflict with Reader about Aemond.

His whole life, he's lived under scrutiny, scorn and mockery. Him, Luke and Joffery were constantly being questioned and made fun of, by the entire Red Keep, however Jace could never understand why his uncles hated them so much.

Helaena was perfectly pleasant, his grandparents were all kind and accepted them as heirs, so why couldn't Alicent and her sons do the same? Did the color of his hair really make that much of a difference? Regardless of who his father was, he was still of royal lineage, born from a womb of pure fire and blood itself. There was no reason for them to be so cruel!

He's lived with the pain and anger of not being accepted his entire life, and he truly believed that his dragon was all that was needed to prove anyone wrong.

After all, only a true Targaryen could tame a God... right?

Now he's rethinking everything.

He finally understands his uncles.

He now knows how Aemond felt about him and Luke, how Aegon felt being compared to himself all the time.

It was infuriating.

Despicable.

Shameful.

It was everything they all said he was.

Now, Jace finds it hard to keep his faith in his mother. Not only is she tarnishing the family name but also placing them all in danger.

He finds himself full of regret, wanting nothing more than to be able to apologize to Aemond and Reader and rekindle a bond he didn't even know was there.

He also now has to find a way to snuff out the newfound self-hatred brewing inside his heart... (imposter syndrome..)

Back in Kings Landing, Aemond and Helaena bond, as Aemond works to persuade her into taking a more offensive role in the war. Helaena obviously disagrees but is more inclined to entertain the thought than she would normally be. After all, she still has a husband and child she wants to keep safe.

Besides, she has been training quite a bit, not to mention Dreamfyre is one of the top five most capable dragons alive... and it's not like Aemond is asking her to fly out and face Daemon or Rhaenyra head on, no. Only that she aid Vhagar should Rhaenyra attempt to sack Kings Landing.

Alicent attempts to bargain with Rhaenyra, urging her to strike while Reader and her dragon are away.

She encourages Rhaenyra to take Aemond and Vhagar down whilst she and Helaena prepare the keep for her before their departure.

Rhaenyra insists that Aegon be dealt with regardless, and ultimately, Alicent agrees.

Pieces are finally falling into place...

Reader meets with her mother for the first time after the coronation, accompanied by Rhaenyras three sons, obtained from the ships her fleet seized, in order to strike a deal.

Tyland and his newly acquired ships meet with Readers fleet as they begin to head towards the blockade after delivering the fish to Kings Landing.

Alicent heads back to the Red Keep to find Helaena, as the dreamer herself is in the midst of training with Aemond and Vhagar.

Jason Lannister receives word of a newly acquired ally in the Riverlands as he makes camp at the Frey Bridge.

Rhaenyra finally prepares to strike.

Daeron and the Hightower army meet with Cole and Gwayne and begin marching on the Riverlands.

The Red Keep is in a panic, after shouts begin to echo throughout the halls come the hour of the wolf...

"THE KING IS GONE!!"

⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘

I'm so sorry that this is so much shorter compared to the rest, I tried to cover 3 episodes in each part but there was only 2 left for this one. As a small apology for the lacking word count, I wrote out the letter Aemond wrote to reader and attached it here for your enjoyment!!

⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘

My heart,

I hope you are well. Unfortunately, I do not write with leisure.

Rhaenyra seeks to raise an army of bastards.

She has sent her handmaiden to fetch any silver-haired persons occupying the streets of Kings Landing.

However, as usual, your kindness reaps rewards. It appears one of your new maids' husband is a Targaryen bastard himself.

Fear not, for this 'Hugh Hammer' and I have come to a very generous agreement. He has bent the knee, and sails to Dragonstone as I write, leaving behind his wife and daughter in our care.

I understand this rather rash decision has a small chance of becoming troublesome in the future, however I believe his success would prove beneficial for us in the long run, and should he perish in his attempt, nothing more will be lost to us.

It appears that you yourself have aided many of these bastards as well, and I pray that the gods grant us their favor once more by placing one of them atop a dragon, if it must be any of them at all.

Of course, the best possible outcome is that none of them are claimed, but the fates have funny ways of showing their humor...

Yours always,

Aemond

[beatcroc]

Is your pfp an oc of urs? Any story?

yah that's N.K.

primer: a former god of fear who has since resigned, and now runs what is essentially an intergalactic tourist trap on his cursed planet, simply known as ''nk's domain''

i don't really do "stories" per se i just have my guys in their 'verse and they have their lore and sometimes that's actionable in a plot sort of way, but most of the time they are just doing their things. nk is one of my oldest oc's and as such probably the most, like, centralizing? nk's domain is sort of a meetup hub for most other characters that don't have their own defined Thing going on, as well as what several characters' Things are directly related to, but nk himself isn't all that much of an active player any more and most of the current story type stuff i'm working with has kinda moved beyond him.

aside from that it's just his history tying him to other stuff; there's a lotta old-guard guys who fuckin hate him back from when he was still doing the whole 'reign of terror' fear deity thing [nk used to stand for 'nightmare king' but he just goes by nk now], there's a bunch a new-guard guys he's pissed off for being the main force behind the universal outlawing of capitalism[honestly not that important and some worlds still do it anyway bc gods are bad at caring enough to actually enforce their rules unless it's like a Really egregious violation], and there's also the history of said "cursed planet" itself [he didnt do that he doesnt know why its like that he just saw it wand went ooooh free real estate. but theres a reason its like that and he's starting to pay the price for having taken it over [accidentally unleashed an imprisoned god-parasite plague][uh oh][its that yellow thing in the last image][this is actually what my "main" "story"/alleged webcomic is about] [go here go in the dark]]

[eggwishing]

hi can you uhh. draw 4 from bfb. i know this is a weird request considering you mainly draw other things but i just really love your artstyle. thank you and have a nice day!!!

what a silly guy!!!!!

[spaceorphan18]

Five Times Kurt Talks About Sex and 1 Time He Doesn't (Part Five)

A/N: So, this was inspired the other day by a Nonny who was asking about how Kurt interacts with others on the topic of sex and this little idea popped in my head.

It’s a little mini-series, and I’ll post one part a day, then I’ll get it up on Ao3 after it’s complete.

It’s set in a post-canon-ish world when they’re all living in New York. The whole thing takes place over the course of a day.

****

Conversation Five : Santana

“We are doing it.” 

“We are so not doing it.” 

“C’mon, Hummel, I know how you like it.” 

“I think you’re ridiculous and it’s not happening.” 

“Because you’re afraid of losing.” 

“I’m not afraid of losing.” 

“Okay, then we’re doing it.” 

Santana slams a shot glass in front of him on the kitchen counter, grinning wildly as she opens the bottle of Vodka she’s brought.  Kurt arches his eyebrow high.  He knows he shouldn’t have let her in the door.  He had been having a nice, quiet evening with a book and a couple of episodes of a baking show queued up on his tv.  With Blaine at his performance, he knew he’d get a chance to have the night to himself.  And then Santana had burst through the door.  It’s not his fault that Santana can’t entertain herself while Brittany is away.  

“You couldn’t go crash Rachel and Jesse’s?” Kurt suggests.  “I hear they’re looking for a third.” 

They head to the kitchen table, then Santana pours them both a shot, cackling.  “As much as I’m dying to get a look at Rachel Berry’s delicate flower,” she answers sarcastically, “they’re busy tonight.  Besides, it’s been a while since you and I have had a little quality one on one time.  And if I can’t get you to go out with me - because let’s face it, you are a seventy year old woman at heart - I thought I’d bring the party here.” 

Kurt is not amused.  “I am not getting drunk for your entertainment.” 

Santana claps her hands together.  “Well, then you better win the game. The game is ‘Never Have I Ever’ and it’s first to ten…”  

“Ten?!”

“Yes, ten.  If you’re going to do something, do it right! First to ten loses.  And you better keep it dirty, Hummel, because that’s how I like it.”  Santana wiggles her eyebrows.  

“You’re certifiable.  Also, I’m starting.” 

“Of course, ladies always go first.”  

Kurt picks up the shot, giving it a smell and nearly chokes on fumes alone.  Thank god he’s at home.  “Fine.  Never have I ever… slept with a woman.” 

“Ooh, starting easy, I see your game,” Santana says, throwing back the shot.  “My turn,” she sings as she pours herself another one. “Never have I ever sucked a dick I actually liked.” 

Kurt rolls his eyes as he throws back the shot.  It’s been a while, and the alcohol stings a bit as it goes down.  But he can do this.  No way is he going to give Santana the satisfaction.  “Alright… never have I ever had a threesome.”  

“You know, you really should,” Santana knocks back the shot.  “There’s nothing like getting yourself off to the sight of your partner being thoroughly serviced.  Remind me to find you and Blaine the no-strings-attached hunk of your dreams to play around with for your anniversary next year.” 

“Oh god…” 

She snaps her fingers.  “Okay, okay… never have I ever done it outside.”  

Kurt grins, shaking his head.   

“What??  Seriously, you’ve never even tried?” Santana’s aghast.  

“Have you been outside?” Kurt argues.  “I have no intention of getting literally dirty while having sex.”  

“You are seriously the most boring human ever,” Santana groans.  

“Hey, aren’t you supposed to take a shot if it applies to you?  Or are you going to claim you’ve never done anything outside even though you complained for weeks about doing it on the beach and getting sand up your butt.” 

“Oh, fuck, right,” Santana takes a third shot.  “I’ve got to be more astute in my questions.”  She points a finger at him, eyeing him carefully.  

Kurt’s grin grows wider.  “Are you feeling it yet?”  

“No,” Santana shoots back, a little too quickly.  “But I am starving - we should have snacks.”  She gets up to begin going through his pantry.  “Fat free crackers? Low-sodium popcorn?  You guys know that you’re in your twenties and not eighty, right?  Oh, good, Cheetos.  I’m guessing these are Blaine’s because he’s the one who knows how to have a good time.”  

Kurt makes a grimace as Santana sits back down, shoveling the Cheetos into her mouth, orange, dusty crumbs getting everywhere.  She offers him some of the bag but he declines, not sure that he’ll ever be able to look at Cheetos the same way again.  He watches her for a moment as a question dawns on him.  “Never have I ever eaten anything off my partner.”

“Anything?” Santana challenges. 

He catches himself.  “Spread chocolate syrup on myself and let my partner lick it up.”  

“I should make you take a drink for that.  What did Blaine eat off you? Whipped cream? Actual syrup?  Ranch dressing?” She begins to laugh at her own suggestions.  “Oh, wait, no, Blaine spread chocolate syrup on himself and you licked it up?  He poured it on his dick, didn’t he?” 

“Just take the shot, Santana,” Kurt nudges her the shot glass.  “And no - Blaine’s dick tastes like candy without the help of chocolate.” 

“You are the worst,” Santana says as she drinks.  “How am I already losing this badly? Okay, okay…” She eats more of the Cheetos as she thinks.  Then her eyes grow wide as an idea comes to her.  “Never have I ever… done it in the same room as my friends without them knowing.”  

Kurt eyes her sharply.  He probably shouldn’t admit to it, but as boring as his sex life actually is to someone like Santana, it’s nice to tease that he isn’t completely an innocent.  He takes the shot and toys with it a little, leaving her in suspense before throwing it back.  

“What?!” Santana’s voice is loud and shrill; the four shots she’s had are definitely kicking in.  “When?  Was I there?? Was this in the loft??” 

Kurt chuckles.  “Yes and nope.”  

“Fuck, really?”

“Yeah,” he replies, offering nothing else.  “Are you going to say that you haven’t?” “If we did it in the same room, you’d totally know it,” Santana shoots back.  “Britt and I are hot when we fuck.”

“Exobitionist.” 

“Prude.  It’s your turn..” 

“Okay, uh… never have I ever made a sex tape.” 

Santana slaps her hand loudly on the table as she takes the shot. “You just can’t stop going for the low hanging fruit, can you? Have a little imagination.  Never have I ever moved the mirror so I could watch myself being fucked.” 

Kurt grumbles taking the shot..  He’s beginning to feel it, though, and can’t quite stop himself from thinking out loud. “Have you seen Blaine’s ass though?  I always just want a view of that ass, so why not look at it in the mirror?”   Did he really just say that out loud?  Santana lets out a cackle.  “What, like you don’t have a mirror near your bed?” 

“Oh, honey, we do it to our sex tape.  C’mon.”  

The room feels warm, and that light, buzzy feeling is taking him quicker than he thought.  Usually he holds his liquor better.  At least he had a big dinner, so most of it won’t come back up in a few hours.   What are they at - five to three? Hopefully, they can wrap this up before Blaine gets home… 

Santana stares him down, just waiting for his next statement, but admittedly, it’s getting harder to think of things.  “Never have I ever done it in an airplane,” he says.  

“Oh, I wish,” Santana cries out.  She’s now loud enough that her voice carries throughout the apartment.  “We tried, Hummel.  We so tried.  But then the bathroom smelled like vomit and some old guy kept wanting to get in and then the airplane hit turbulence.  We haven’t tried since.  Oh, which reminds me, speaking of methods of transportation -- Have I never…wait, I have never… wait, fuck…” She waves her arms in the air as she tries to make it come to her.

“Never have I ever…” he helps her, tightening up his lips, trying not to giggle at her drunkenness.  

“Yes,” she points a finger at him, her eyes wide with delight. “Never have I ever been groped in the back of a Prius in the middle of the afternoon in a church parking lot.”

No longer being able to contain it, he bursts out laughing.  It’s so oddly specific.  And so oddly true.  He has no regrets, and takes the shot.  “Fair.  Okay, so never have I spent a month on the island of Lesbos hoping to have some kind of female orgy and been disappointed when I found mostly tourists looking at old, Greek architecture.”  

“Oh my god, I forgot about that trip.”  Santana doubles over in laughter, making a mess as she takes her shot and pours another one.  Normally, Kurt would be annoyed but he just throws a napkin at her, making them both laugh more.  

“You are so drunk,” he tells her.  

“And you’re getting there!” she pounds on the table. Her voice is now louder than normal, and quicker as she excitedly spits out the next one. “Okay, let’s get this going -- never have I sucked a dick twice my age.” 

Kurt rolls his eyes at her - they’re never going to let him live down Walter.  Shot.  “Never have I done it for money.” He finds that his voice is growing louder, too.  He can’t help it.  

She scrunches her nose at him.  “Hey, don’t judge, she was a fucking fine rich woman - how do you think we got around Lesbos?” She yells out.  Shot.  “Never have I had a sex dream that involved my spouse’s brother!” 

Shit - when did he tell her that? Shot.  “Never have I ever sent a full nude to my entire contact list.” He shoots back quickly - and loudly.  

She takes the shot.  “At least it was a good angle!”

“If you say so!”   

“Never have I ever worn a cockring and hated it!!” 

Shot. 

“Never have I ever worn a strap on and loved it!!!” 

Shot.  

“NEVER HAVE I EVER BEEN SO INTO MY HUSBAND’S SUPERHERO-SLASH-BIRD FETISH THAT I REGULARLY MAKE HIM WEAR THAT CHEESY, HOMEMADE RIDICULOUS OUTFIT SO THAT I CAN GET OFF TO IT ANY CHANCE I GET.” 

Kurt loses it.  Just loses it, laughing so hard that he begins to cry.  “Nightbird!” he quips, burying his head in his hands.  “You don’t get it, Santana…” his voice is high and slurred and broken up with laughter.  “He’s such a dapper Nightbird.  And I am the endangered citizen he has to rescue from the Evil Dr. Skunkrat - it was originally Mr. Meerkat but I made it skunkier.” 

“Wha…?” Santana’s laughing so hard she can hardly breathe.  “Do you mean skankier?” 

“Nooooo!” Kurt squeals.  “Skunkier!” He takes the shot.  “And after I’m rescued I thank him by playing with his gorgeous ass and sucking his delicious vanilla and caramel tasting cock!” 

“Oh my god it’s caramel sauce not chocolate…” Santana throws herself back laughing so hard that she tumbles out of her chair.  

Sober, he may have been more ashamed to say all of that out loud, but he’s so gone that he really doesn’t care.  It’s not like Santana couldn’t have guessed anyway.  Instead, he manages to get himself to the ground, and crawl around to Santana’s side to make sure she’s okay.  She’s sitting and fine, wiping the tears from her eyes as she scoots towards the kitchen cupboards to lean against them.  Oh god, what a night this is turning out to be.  He comes to sit next to her, the both of them holding each other close as they laugh together.  It does feel good to be this loose every once in a while.  

Santana lets out a heavy sigh, placing her head against his.  “Thank you for that,” she says.  “No really, this is probably the best night I’ve had in a long while.  And now I know how to blackmail you if I never need to.”  

“Don’t make me regret my life choices in the morning,” he jokes.  

“Honestly, Hummel…” her voice grows unusually low and sincere.  “Never have I ever barged in on a friend's boring-ass evening because secretly I’m not a huge fan of being on my own.”  

He gives her a smile, a bit of warmth spreading in his chest.  It’s nice to know that deep down - she does care. “Well,” he offers. “Never have I ever indulged in a drinking game with a close friend because, honestly, I do like talking about sex.”  

“Pervert.” 

“Sentimentalist.” 

“I think this calls for one final shot!” she says.  After a moment of struggling, she manages to get up on her knees to reach the bottle and shot glasses, pouring a final shot for each of them.  Settling next to him again on the floor, they make a toast and knock back the shot together.  

“You know, Santana, that shot makes it ten to nine,” Kurt says, not able to contain a tinge of smugness.  “I win.”  

“Fuck you, Hummel.” 

[compacflt]

wip wednesday: hoping to have all the fic revisions up by saturday (long shot tbh) or wednesday!

[ereborne]

Song of the Day: May 1

"Wicked Old Witch" by John Fogerty

[coquelicoq]

Quoique ce détail ne touche en aucune manière au fond même de ce que nous avons à raconter, il n'est peut-être pas inutile, ne fût-ce que pour être exact en tout, d'indiquer ici les bruits et les propos qui avaient couru sur son compte au moment où il était arrivé dans le diocèse.

no wonder this book is 1800 pages long if the second sentence of the very first chapter opens with "although it has nothing to do with what this book is about, we might as well go on a tangent." hugo it is the second sentence of the book. is this really the time for a digression? a digression from what? you haven't even said anything yet! WE ARE TWO SENTENCES IN!!

[crossbackpoke-check]

wait you got me so invested in the stammer & heddy tailor au....

this is my standard disclaimer that i have never posted a fic on ao3* and for however much i say “au” i truly mean that it’s a universe that lives in my head & i am absolutely delighted to tell you all about, all the time <3 if it helps i ALSO got me so invested in the heddy & stammer tailor au

ok now that the author’s note is out of the way here’s some notes about the not!fic heddy & stammer tailor au:

stammer as the tailor from gent’s playbook, very reserved, quiet, with an excellent eye for details (honestly the evidence i have for his style sense is just that he’s best friends with pk subban so it has to be there somewhere if only by proxy irl) is hired by victor hedman, star of the tampa bay lightning who is every other tailor’s nightmare to dress (huge, opinionated, fashionable)

heddy is decently well-known throughout the league for being very well-dressed & becomes quietly well known for also being one of his new tailor’s favorite loyal customers [heddy has the nicest fabrics. he has his suits the first day a new collection drops & e v e r y o n e is jealous]

stammer’s business booms after heddy takes a chance on him as his first big client & promotes him, heddy sees him grow in popularity & get more clients

heddy also moonlights as a model for stammer’s suits on instagram, initially to help him grow his business because then he won’t have to pay for a model and then because he’s over there all the time anyway because they’re dating (that’s why the model’s face is never in the pictures)

there’s not really a plot to this besides the vague idea of a plot where stammer makes heddy his lucky suit that he wins the cup in & sews a special little tag into the lining of his jacket that says i love you

because love sometimes is picking out the perfect right color pocket square to match your husband’s beautiful suit that you fitted like a kiss to the curves of his huge body

& also sometimes love is making your beautiful husband who makes you beautiful clothing enjoy nice things for himself once in a while, like the fancy watch you bought him or the nice suit you custom-ordered for him (from him) just so you could take it off of him

[archaeren]

How I learned to write smarter, not harder

(aka, how to write when you're hella ADHD lol)

A reader commented on my current long fic asking how I write so well. I replied with an essay of my honestly pretty non-standard writing advice (that they probably didn't actually want lol) Now I'm gonna share it with you guys and hopefully there's a few of you out there who will benefit from my past mistakes and find some useful advice in here. XD Since I started doing this stuff, which are all pretty easy changes to absorb into your process if you want to try them, I now almost never get writer's block.

The text of the original reply is indented, and I've added some additional commentary to expand upon and clarify some of the concepts.

As for writing well, I usually attribute it to the fact that I spent roughly four years in my late teens/early 20s writing text roleplay with a friend for hours every single day. Aside from the constant practice that provided, having a live audience immediately reacting to everything I wrote made me think a lot about how to make as many sentences as possible have maximum impact so that I could get that kind of fun reaction. (Which is another reason why comments like yours are so valuable to fanfic writers! <3) The other factors that have improved my writing are thus: 1. Writing nonlinearly. I used to write a whole story in order, from the first sentence onward. If there was a part I was excited to write, I slogged through everything to get there, thinking that it would be my reward once I finished everything that led up to that. It never worked. XD It was miserable. By the time I got to the part I wanted to write, I had beaten the scene to death in my head imagining all the ways I could write it, and it a) no longer interested me and b) could not live up to my expectations because I couldn't remember all my ideas I'd had for writing it. The scene came out mediocre and so did everything leading up to it. Since then, I learned through working on VN writing (I co-own a game studio and we have some visual novels that I write for) that I don't have to write linearly. If I'm inspired to write a scene, I just write it immediately. It usually comes out pretty good even in a first draft! But then I also have it for if I get more ideas for that scene later, and I can just edit them in. The scenes come out MUCH stronger because of this. And you know what else I discovered? Those scenes I slogged through before weren't scenes I had no inspiration for, I just didn't have any inspiration for them in that moment! I can't tell you how many times there was a scene I had no interest in writing, and then a week later I'd get struck by the perfect inspiration for it! Those are scenes I would have done a very mediocre job on, and now they can be some of the most powerful scenes because I gave them time to marinate. Inspiration isn't always linear, so writing doesn't have to be either!

Some people are the type that joyfully write linearly. I have a friend like this--she picks up the characters and just continues playing out the next scene. Her story progresses through the entire day-by-day lives of the characters; it never timeskips more than a few hours. She started writing and posting just eight months ago, she's about an eighth of the way through her planned fic timeline, and the content she has so far posted to AO3 for it is already 450,000 words long. But most of us are normal humans. We're not, for the most part, wired to create linearly. We consume linearly, we experience linearly, so we assume we must also create linearly. But actually, a lot of us really suffer from trying to force ourselves to create this way, and we might not even realize it. If you're the kind of person who thinks you need to carrot-on-a-stick yourself into writing by saving the fun part for when you finally write everything that happens before it: Stop. You're probably not a linear writer. You're making yourself suffer for no reason and your writing is probably suffering for it. At least give nonlinear writing a try before you assume you can't write if you're not baiting or forcing yourself into it!! Remember: Writing is fun. You do this because it's fun, because it's your hobby. If you're miserable 80% of the time you're doing it, you're probably doing it wrong!

2. Rereading my own work. I used to hate reading my own work. I wouldn't even edit it usually. I would write it and slap it online and try not to look at it again. XD Writing nonlinearly forced me to start rereading because I needed to make sure scenes connected together naturally and it also made it easier to get into the headspace of the story to keep writing and fill in the blanks and get new inspiration. Doing this built the editing process into my writing process--I would read a scene to get back in the headspace, dislike what I had written, and just clean it up on the fly. I still never ever sit down to 'edit' my work. I just reread it to prep for writing and it ends up editing itself. Many many scenes in this fic I have read probably a dozen times or more! (And now, I can actually reread my own work for enjoyment!) Another thing I found from doing this that it became easy to see patterns and themes in my work and strengthen them. Foreshadowing became easy. Setting up for jokes or plot points became easy. I didn't have to plan out my story in advance or write an outline, because the scenes themselves because a sort of living outline on their own. (Yes, despite all the foreshadowing and recurring thematic elements and secret hidden meanings sprinkled throughout this story, it actually never had an outline or a plan for any of that. It's all a natural byproduct of writing nonlinearly and rereading.)

Unpopular writing opinion time: You don't need to make a detailed outline.

Some people thrive on having an outline and planning out every detail before they sit down to write. But I know for a lot of us, we don't know how to write an outline or how to use it once we've written it. The idea of making one is daunting, and the advice that it's the only way to write or beat writer's block is demoralizing. So let me explain how I approach "outlining" which isn't really outlining at all.

I write in a Notion table, where every scene is a separate table entry and the scene is written in the page inside that entry. I do this because it makes writing nonlinearly VASTLY more intuitive and straightforward than writing in a single document. (If you're familiar with Notion, this probably makes perfect sense to you. If you're not, imagine something a little like a more contained Google Sheets, but every row has a title cell that opens into a unique Google Doc when you click on it. And it's not as slow and clunky as the Google suite lol) (Edit from the future: I answered an ask with more explanation on how I use Notion for non-linear writing here.) When I sit down to begin a new fic idea, I make a quick entry in the table for every scene I already know I'll want or need, with the entries titled with a couple words or a sentence that describes what will be in that scene so I'll remember it later. Basically, it's the most absolute bare-bones skeleton of what I vaguely know will probably happen in the story.

Then I start writing, wherever I want in the list. As I write, ideas for new scenes and new connections and themes will emerge over time, and I'll just slot them in between the original entries wherever they naturally fit, rearranging as necessary, so that I won't forget about them later when I'm ready to write them. As an example, my current long fic started with a list of roughly 35 scenes that I knew I wanted or needed, for a fic that will probably be around 100k words (which I didn't know at the time haha). As of this writing, it has expanded to 129 scenes. And since I write them directly in the page entries for the table, the fic is actually its own outline, without any additional effort on my part. As I said in the comment reply--a living outline!

This also made it easier to let go of the notion that I had to write something exactly right the first time. (People always say you should do this, but how many of us do? It's harder than it sounds! I didn't want to commit to editing later! I didn't want to reread my work! XD) I know I'm going to edit it naturally anyway, so I can feel okay giving myself permission to just write it approximately right and I can fix it later. And what I found from that was that sometimes what I believed was kind of meh when I wrote it was actually totally fine when I read it later! Sometimes the internal critic is actually wrong. 3. Marinating in the headspace of the story. For the first two months I worked on [fic], I did not consume any media other than [fandom the fic is in]. I didn't watch, read, or play anything else. Not even mobile games. (And there wasn't really much fan content for [fandom] to consume either. Still isn't, really. XD) This basically forced me to treat writing my story as my only source of entertainment, and kept me from getting distracted or inspired to write other ideas and abandon this one.

As an aside, I don't think this is a necessary step for writing, but if you really want to be productive in a short burst, I do highly recommend going on a media consumption hiatus. Not forever, obviously! Consuming media is a valuable tool for new inspiration, and reading other's work (both good and bad, as long as you think critically to identify the differences!) is an invaluable resource for improving your writing.

When I write, I usually lay down, close my eyes, and play the scene I'm interested in writing in my head. I even take a ten-minute nap now and then during this process. (I find being in a state of partial drowsiness, but not outright sleepiness, makes writing easier and better. Sleep helps the brain process and make connections!) Then I roll over to the laptop next to me and type up whatever I felt like worked for the scene. This may mean I write half a sentence at a time between intervals of closed-eye-time XD

People always say if you're stuck, you need to outline.

What they actually mean by that (whether they realize it or not) is that if you're stuck, you need to brainstorm. You need to marinate. You don't need to plan what you're doing, you just need to give yourself time to think about it!

What's another framing for brainstorming for your fic? Fantasizing about it! Planning is work, but fantasizing isn't.

You're already fantasizing about it, right? That's why you're writing it. Just direct that effort toward the scenes you're trying to write next! Close your eyes, lay back, and fantasize what the characters do and how they react.

And then quickly note down your inspirations so you don't forget, haha.

And if a scene is so boring to you that even fantasizing about it sucks--it's probably a bad scene.

If it's boring to write, it's going to be boring to read. Ask yourself why you wanted that scene. Is it even necessary? Can you cut it? Can you replace it with a different scene that serves the same purpose but approaches the problem from a different angle? If you can't remove the troublesome scene, what can you change about it that would make it interesting or exciting for you to write?

And I can't write sitting up to save my damn life. It's like my brain just stops working if I have to sit in a chair and stare at a computer screen. I need to be able to lie down, even if I don't use it! Talking walks and swinging in a hammock are also fantastic places to get scene ideas worked out, because the rhythmic motion also helps our brain process. It's just a little harder to work on a laptop in those scenarios. XD

In conclusion: Writing nonlinearly is an amazing tool for kicking writer's block to the curb. There's almost always some scene you'll want to write. If there isn't, you need to re-read or marinate.

Or you need to use the bathroom, eat something, or sleep. XD Seriously, if you're that stuck, assess your current physical condition. You might just be unable to focus because you're uncomfortable and you haven't realized it yet.

Anyway! I hope that was helpful, or at least interesting! XD Sorry again for the text wall. (I think this is the longest comment reply I've ever written!)

And same to you guys on tumblr--I hope this was helpful or at least interesting. XD Reblogs appreciated if so! (Maybe it'll help someone else!)

[snekdood]

bitches prolly out here psychoanalyzing my old art on behalf of my abuser to cushion their belief that im a Horrible Person but then dont see the irony when I point out the shitty things my abuser has drawn and how I see it as clear evidence of their mindset and beliefs (of what's okay to do and how to treat people) descending and pairing that along with everything else they've done and it paints a clear picture of how this person got to the point of thinking it was okay to abuse me the way they did and then the people looking for reasons to hate me through my art will act like "they're just drawings !!!" about their art. which one is it. does someones art say something about them or not? or does it only say something about them if you hate them?

[gender-euphowrya]

ok ngl galaxy buds 2 kinda fucking rule

[4unnyr0se]

Haikyuu characters catching you masterbating ?

❥ caught ya! | haikyuu guys catching you pleasuring yourself

warnings: timeskip! characters, fem! reader mentions of masturbation (duh), jealously, fingering, teasing, voyeurism, toy usage, lewd language

MDNI | 18+ content

word count -> 650

a/n: hopefully i assigned the characters correctly

got a request? my asks are open!

❥ They think it's cute

He walks in on you, knuckle-deep in your soaked pussy, panties hastily pushed aside as you plunge your fingers into your dripping heat over and over again. You were too preoccupied with fucking yourself on your fingers that you didn’t even notice how the door to your bedroom closed, your boyfriend crossing his arms in amusement as he leaned against your dresser. He observes how his name falls from your lips like a broken prayer, your nose sniffling pathetically as you try too hard to rip an orgasm out of you. But sadly, your fingers were no match for his own, and they never will be. You squealed in delight as you finally hit that sweet spot that you so craved, only to have your moment of bliss interrupted by your boyfriend's gentle cooing.

“Did my baby miss me while I was working, hm? Don’t worry, sweet thing. I’ll just stand here and watch. Go on, try to make yourself cum without my help. You’re so fucking adorable, my precious angel.”

SUGAWARA, kuroo, yaku, ennoshita, UKAI, semi, hanamaki, kenma, OSAMU, kita

❥ They think it's stupid

He hears your oh-so-familiar moans behind your shared bedroom and busts in without a second thought. Who the hell was ripping those perfect noises from your pretty lips without his permission? Why, was it you, of course! A bullet vibration practically danced on your throbbing clit while your legs were spread like a slut, your slit drenching the innermost part. Your perfectly manicured hand squeezed your breast, your thumb rolling over your nipple whilst your pearly whites bit down on your bottom lip, hips bucking into the air on occasion. His eyes filled with fury as he ripped the vibrator off your clit, earning an annoyed moan from your slutty mouth.

“What the fuck is this, hm? You seriously couldn’t wait for me to get back so I could fuck you? Who the hell needs this stupid toy when you have me? That’s it. Get on all fours. Right now, don’t fucking test me.”

kageyama, TSUKISHIMA, kyoutani, IWAIZUMI, atsumu, suna, sakusa, ushijima, daichi

❥ They're completely starstruck

Oh, fuck. They have absolutely no idea what to do. He’s fantasized about this so much, and it’s finally fucking happening. He caught you bouncing on a dildo you had bought yourself, whimpering as the silicone head hit every spot so perfectly deep inside your gummy walls. His eyes landed on your pretty fingers, desperately swirling your clit, beads of sweat flying off your forehead. You looked so fucking ethereal, he had to say something. He just had to let you know how fucking pretty you looked!

“Holy fuck, you look so fucking pretty. Can you keep going for me, please? I wanna see you cum over and over again, please, baby girl. I’ll fuck you as much as you want, just put on a good show for me. God, you’re perfect.”

HINATA, yamaguchi, asahi, GOSHIKI, oikawa, akaashi, takeda, TANAKA

❥ They join you

His ears perk up once he hears you mewling in pleasure from your bedroom, eagerly slamming the door open to reveal your hands fucking a vibrating bullet in and out of your weeping cunt, the sheets beneath you a filthy mess. He smirks and practically pounces on the bed, not even bothering to shut the door as he peppers your face in a million kisses. You always look so pretty when you wanna get yourself off. What if he fucked his fist in tandem with you? That's the best idea ever.

“Shit, don’t stop just for me, baby. Let’s cum at the same time, yeah? You wanna fuck yourself with that cute bullet I got you while I fuck my fist to the sight of your pretty tits? C’mon, don’t say no! It’ll be fun, I promise! Then I’ll fuck you nice and good afterward, okay? Thank you, pretty baby.”

nishinoya, BOKUTO, konoha, matsukawa, TENDOU, terushima, yamamoto, lev

[duckieduccss]

Kaiju Baseball AU!!!

Hey, i think i do actually wanna go deeper into this potential au. It’s not anything big really. It’s just a supposed scenario of what if as an excuse to constantly see his adoptive meantime (by then) daughter in some way, he decides to still try to teach her more baseball. But then later turns into teaching her & her friends (the younger kaiju she met when returning to Kaiju Island; i tried to think of other existing kaiju she could easily be friends with) the sport leading to the idea of creating some sort of small team dedicated to just his daughter Emi & him being the coach. That & somehow convincing the more adult kaiju about it (which wasnt easy). In the end, they all have fun & become this sorta big friend group. (Mostly meant as some sorta wholesome concept & easy idea to go off of; the only challenging thing is that idk much about baseball)

Oh & i did add a lil special guest as part of the team (Rodan’s own kid inspired by @quazies own animation)

[i’ll add more to this & hopefully i can do art that somehow shows all the fun baseball stuff they do :) ]

(Best to leave them to deal with their problems seems like)

(**anyone else you guys suggest i should add to the team??? Lemme know ^^**)

[nanaslutt]

choso with tongue piercing? >_<

hngh i need his tongue inside me :(

😝

Bestfriend!Choso X Reader :3

contains: fem reader, teasing, dirty talk, exhibitionism (they're in a car), sexual tension, oral (r!receiving), Choso’s first time giving head, slight jealousy, whipped!Choso & reader, first time receiving, reader has a bad track record w/ guys, mentions of bj, so soft & sweet

MDNI

°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ

"Holy fuck." You swallowed hard at the view in front of you. "My brother convinced me to get it done when he got some of his piercings, said it could be a bonding experience," Choso explained, putting his tongue decorated with the little silver ball back into his mouth. "Did it hurt?" You asked, your mind still reeling that he had hidden a tongue piercing from you for all these years.

"It wasn't horrible, I'm pretty good with pain. I don't really see the point in having it pierced though." He started to explain, "No one ever sees it, even I forget it's there sometimes." Choso finished. You just smiled and nodded, pretending to listen as he kept talking about his experience getting pierced.

You had already thought of 400 scenarios in which you would let choso put his tongue (and piercing) to work on your body, so the pain he went to to get the pretty jewelry wouldnt be in vain. One particular scenario stood out in your head of him tongue fucking you, feeling the metal against your clit and- "You okay?" Choso's voice rang in your ears.

"Huh?" You said, pulling yourself from your daydream. "I asked if you would ever get your tongue pierced and you just froze up." He explained, scrunching his eyebrows together. "Oh! Oh right! I uh, I'm pretty squeamish around needles so thinking about it makes me a little... nervous" You lied through your teeth, thanking the universe that he seemed to believe it.

For the rest of the day the two of you spent together, the only thing you could focus on was his piercing. Unbeknownst to you, he had caught you several times. Choso had purposely run his tongue over his lips to wet them, every so often, just to see your breath hitch when you got a glimpse of the silver.

As he was driving the two of you back to his house for a nightcap, some relaxing song playing in the background, you spoke up through the silence, "Thanks for today Choso! I know the night isn't over yet but the museum you took us to was so much fun, we have to go to the cafe inside next time!" you exclaimed. He turned his head away from the road to look at you, before returning his gaze on the dark street.

"I'm surprised you remembered there was a cafe." He said, a hint of teasing, and snarkiness hiding in his voice. "Huh?" You voiced, tilting your head at him in confusion. "You seemed out of it today." He elaborated, "Is there something going on?" He asked, keeping his voice and face fairly monotone. His question caught you off guard, had you really been acting that weird all day? So much so that he picked up on it? Oh god.

"No! No, I'm just a little tired today, I'm sorry, I didn't mean to be weird." You forced out a laugh, once again coming up with a quick and hopefully believable lie. Unluckily for you, Choso saw right through it. "Are you sure? Because you were acting fine until I showed you my piercing." He said, hitting the nail right on the head.

You froze, not expecting him to be able to pinpoint the exact moment in the day you started behaving strangely, why was he so damn observant? "Oh.. really?" You said, no bullshit lies or excuses coming to your tongue, so you tried to laugh it off instead, saying something about a coincidence. "Did me sharing that make you uncomfortable?" He said, making you immediately reassure him that was absolutely not the case.

He turned the car onto your street, driving slowly down the dark path and towards your house. The two of you have been friends for the longest time, spending practically every second together any chance you got, so of course he knew the way to your house like the back of his hand.

"Oh my god no! No choso, really it's.. it's nothing.." You panicked slightly, not wanting him to feel bad for you being a perv and not being able to control yourself over a piercing. You sighed heavily, scrunching your face up as you seriously contemplated telling him what was really going on with you today.

No matter what you did you couldn't stop imagining your oblivious best friend's tongue between your legs, flicking your clit with his tongue and teasing the bud with the cold metal. You wanted to feel guilty you really did, but the vision was too delicious to feel any remorse.

"Does it turn you on?" He asked, pulling into your driveway and putting the car into part before he unbuckled himself and turned his body to face you. The expression on his face was unreadable, which made you nervous. Your face was heating up, and your mouth dropped open and closed like a fish out of water, trying to think of a response as your brain processed his unexpected words. You really didn't want your long-term secret crush on your best friend to be exposed like this.

"The piercing, does it turn you on?" He asked again, rephrasing his question. Oh god.. he was going to call you a perv and kick you out of the car, leaving you cold and alone in your own driveway if you said yes right? He would definitely think you were weird, who thinks about their best friend in that way?

You opted to shut your mouth, as you pulled your bottom lip between your teeth and nodded as softly as you could, unsure of your own actions. He looked past you, scanning the outside around the two of you to make sure there were no witnesses before he spoke his next words. "Wanna find out why I actually got this piercing?" He asked, making your face turn a dark shade of crimson as you whispered out a needy, "Please.."

--

"Fuck- Ohmygod right there Choso- Fuck!" Your hands dug into his soft strands of hair as he ate you out like a man starved. He had you on your back in the backseat of the car, legs splayed out for him as he laid between them, feasting on your cunt. He flattened his tongue out against your clit, making sure the ball of the piercing was kissing the little bud before he shook his head back and forth, stimulating your clit against it.

It had happened so fast, he had leaned forward and pressed your lips together, asking if this was okay before he unbuckled your seatbelt while you were distracted, and somehow the two of you had ended up in the backseat. You weren't sure why he didn't just drag you inside but you couldn't lie that the thrill of doing something like this in the car was exciting.

Choso scissored his fingers in and out of you, abusing your g-spot with the pads of his digits as they curled up against it. His tongue was working you over so well, he drew his name over and over on your clit, occasionally sucking it into his warm mouth and humming around it, sending delicious vibrations through your cunt.

Choso had never told you about any of his sexual conquests, so you werent really sure what to expect in terms of how well he would do when he said he was going to eat you out. Now you were begining to think he had a side job as a porn star or something because his technique was unreal.

"H-how are you so fucking g-good mph!" You cut yourself off with a whine when he suckled your clit particularly hard, making your body jolt against him. Truthfully, Choso had never eaten anyone out before, but he most definitely had watched porn and practiced on his hand for the day he got the courage to ask you out.

He wasn't expecting the opportunity to fall into his lap this easily, so when he saw your eyes light up at his piercing, he internally thanked the gods that you caught a glimpse of it in the sun, which led to him revealing the jewelry to you.

Choso always paid the utmost attention to you, without you even knowing it. He knew what you liked and disliked, he even so much as knew every detail about your tone and facial expressions to make sure you were constantly pleased and comfortable, he always wanted the best for you after all.

He watched how people would break your heart and toss you aside like you were nothing, it alwasy made him furious. They were absolute idiots to give you up, he hated seeing you sad over some unemployed nobody who never really cared about you from the start. Althogh he hated them, he couldnt help but feel a little grateful for them. If it werent for them taking you for granted, you might be in a relationship still, and the two of you wouldnt be in his backseat right now.

Choso moaned against your core when your hands tightened in his hair, rolling his eyes at the feeling of your nails digging into his scalp. "Does it feel good?" He said back, knowing damn well your answer. "Yes, yes Choso, fuck!" You moaned, dropping your chin to watch him work between your thighs.

He was already looking at you when your eyes locked with his. His eyebrows scrunched together upon feeling your gaze, keeping his dark eyes on yours as he ate you out with more vigor, drinking in your body’s every reaction to his tongue. The vibrations from his deep groans were going to push you over the edge. "Choso- Choso I'm close," You whined, fighting your eyes from rolling back in your head so you could keep your eyes on his and watch him do his thing.

He was so unbelievably handsome like this, the streetlights casting beautiful shadows on his face, and his expression was so needy it made your heart skip a beat. The way his eyebrows mimicked your expressions whenever he did something that felt particularly good, was so hot, he was so attentive.

The man between your legs was feeling drunk. This was something he only dreamed of and it was actually happening. He felt like his cock was going to burst from just tasting you alone, but he would gladly make home between your thighs forever. "Please," He begged from between your legs, scrunching his eyebrows together as he ate you out with more vigor.

He released his fingers from your tight hole and opted to replace them with his tongue, pressing his face as tightly against you as he could to make sure his tongue was fucking inside you as deep as possible, making sure to lick his tongue upwards against your walls so you could feel his piercing inside you. His fingers came to rub little circles on your clit with expert precision, making your legs start to shake.

You dug your nails against his scalp as you humped your hips against his face, hearing his muffled moans encourage you from between your thighs. "Ohmygod Choso! I-I'm cumming-" You wined before you felt the knot start to unravel. Choso swore he almost came in his pants at how sensually you cried out his name, mentally recording it for later.

He kept up his ministrations on your pussy, drinking up everything you gave him as you came hard on his face, squishing his soft cheeks between your thighs. He was mesmerized as he watched your body shake and curl in on itself, he stared at your mouth as it dropped open and spilled out profanities and whines of his name, broken on your tongue. When your back relaxed against the seat of the car once more he slowed his fingers on your clit, careful to not overstimulate you.

"Holy f-fuck Choso." You whispered, leaving your hands in his hair and running them through your own, wiping the sweat from your forehead. You took a quick look around in the post haze of your orgasm and noticed how foggy the windows were, so much for trying not to be obvious; anyone with half a brain would know what was going on if they walked past your car.

After he made sure he licked you clean, he pulled his face back and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, raising his body to sit comfortably on the seat as his other large hand came to caress your thigh soothingly. "Was that okay?" He asked, looking at you like a puppy.

"Okay?" You repeated, astonished he was asking as if he didn't just witness how hard you came, "I'm pretty sure that was the best orgasm I've ever had in my life." You laughed, making him smile at your words as your hand came down on top of his while he was petting your thigh. "Thank felt so good Choso, thank you." You said blushing as you closed your legs, noticing how exposed you were in comparison to him.

Of course, he picked up on this, he reached over to pick up your previously discarded panties from the floor of the car, wiping them off before he handed them, alone with your pants, to you. You said your thanks to him and he nodded shyly, a stark difference to how he was acting moments ago. It wasn't till you were almost finished getting dressed again when you noticed his massive boner. How did you not see it before? You felt so bad for letting him sit like that for god knows how long.

"Choso, you're hard." You said, stating the obvious. The man blushed and pulled his t-shirt over his hard-on to cover it. "Let me take care of it for you." You offered, leaning your body over his and placing your hands on his toned thighs, "I-Its okay-" His warm hands came down to grab your forearms, stopping you. "What? Really? It doesn't look okay," You giggled, looking up between your lashes at him.

Of course, he wanted you to get him off, that sounded perfect, but he needed to properly take care of you first. Your legs were still trembling and you were still out of breath, on top of that he could tell you were tired; that orgasm had taken a lot out of you, so he could wait. "Don't worry about me, I'll go down." He assured, rubbing his hands on your wrists soothingly and making you hum. "I still need to clean you up and make sure you're okay." He finished, making you blush. No man has ever said that to you before, and no man has ever eaten you out before tonight either but you wouldn't tell Choso that right now.

Truthfully, you were feeling tired, and the prospect of Choso cleaning you up didnt sound half bad right now, "Are you sure? It really wont take long." You offered one last time. He smiled and pushed your arms off of his thighs so he could leave the car, "Im sure, some other time." He said boldly, making you nod silently as he opened the car door and stepped out.

You started to do the same but his voice stopped you in your tracks, "Don't move." He ordered, so you didn't. It didn't take long after he shut his own door that he was opening yours, Choso now standing in front of you as he leaned inside the car and scooped you into his arms, making you giggle as he slammed the door behind him. "Choso! I can walk." You laughed, wrapping your arms around his shoulders as he held you in a princess carry.

"Don't wanna take any chances, your legs are still trembling pretty hard." He said, making you blush and want to hide away at his exposing words. "I think you're the sweetest man I'll ever know." You said to him, smiling at his blushing face as he quickly avoided his eyes with yours. He moved his hand to effortlessly type in your door code as he brought the both of you inside, away from the chilly air.

I better be, he wanted to say, but opted to only acknowledge your words with a hum as the front door clicked shut behind the both of you.