#and you can only experience it through touch

[loves0phelia]

hi! I wanted to request a cute jj fic where they’re just being cute together and he’s overprotective (can you base it off an episode in the series?)

thanksss!

Risking

Summery: Moments JJ risked his life to protect you.

Words: 2.8k

Warnings: near death experiences, grammar mistakes.

A/N: I'm like 100% sure this is not what you meant but this is what i came up with, thank you for requesting xxx (for anyone that requested i will do them all eventually, might just take time)

JJ was always protective of his friends no matter what, whether it was in a fight, an argument or just a small altercation, he was ready to protect. But with you, it was quite different. He wasn't just protective, he was ready to kill to assure your safety. He followed behind you wherever you went like a personal guard. He would do anything to shield you from any harm.

The first time you noticed just how much he was committed to your protection, was during the Kegger at the beach. You and him had begun dating a couple of months prior and it was the first beach party of the summer, where kooks, pogues and torons met to have a good time.

“Hey, y/n! How are you doing?” Your head turns when you hear the call of your name. You notice  Topper, Rafe, and Kelce approaching. Their presence quickly becomes hard to ignore. They are always looking for trouble, even when there is none.

“Oh, uhm I'm good Rafe, thank you for asking” You began looking around for the familiar head of blond hair you loved combing your fingers through but only failing.

“Looking for someone?” It was now topper's time to speak up.

“Actually yes, I'm looking for JJ-”

“Yeah I don't actually care, you want a drink?” Topper smirked, a glint of arrogance in his eye; it was in no way comforting. It was malicious.

“No thanks, I'm not drinking tonight…” You slowly start backing up feeling cornered by the trio.

“Relax, we’re just being friendly. Have a drink with us. Unless, of course, you’re too good for that. But you won't deny a free drink, right, pogue?” Topper pushed and almost shoved the red plastic Solo cup filled with beer that tasted like pee in your face.

“What the fuck is going on here” Sighing in relief, A weight was lifted off your shoulder when you heard his voice coming up behind you. You turned to see JJ striding over, eyes hard and jaw clenched. His gaze flicked from you to the three boys, warning in his stare.

“There you are, we were just offering your little bitch of a girlfriend a drink, isn't that right y/n?” Topper laughed, feigning innocence. 

JJ didn’t back down, his voice low but clear. “The fuck did you just call her?.”

Topper took a step closer, his grin mocking. “I called her a bitch. What are you gonna do about it, tough guy?” He laughed and earned a slap on the back from Rafe.

Before anyone could process what was happening, JJ's fist was swinging toward Topper landing a solid punch across his jaw.

The air was thick with tension, and you instinctively took a step back—until Rafe's hand caught your arm, gripping tight.

“Let go of me!” you snapped, trying to pull free.

“Don’t. Touch. Her.” Seeing you struggle, JJ’s face darkened

JJ lunged toward Rafe as Topper troubles to stand from the sand still winded from the hit he received. Then, In a second everyone at the party began circling the fight.

Both blond boys punched and kicked around earning cheers from the crowd surrounding.

“Stop!” John B and Pope push through and quickly pull JJ off the bloodied Rafe.

“Lay a hand on her again, and you’re dead. Got it!?” He screamed at his face before getting completely pulled off.

JJ’s demeanour softened as soon as He turned to you, “Hey, you alright?” he asked, gently brushing his fingers over the red handprint on your arm.

You let out a relieved breath, meeting his concerned gaze. “I’m fine, thank you,” you whispered, slowly raising your tippy toes to press a delicate kiss on his cheek.

His hand raised to your cheeks and pulled you into a proper kiss before wrapping his arm around your shoulder and bringing you away from everyone. He couldn't wait to lay in bed close to you.

the second time you noticed was when he was ready to take a bullet for you. You and your friend hadn't expected your summer to turn into a treasure-hunting adventure but here you were with a nugget of badly melted gold in your pocket on your way to a “warehouse”.

“Is there really a warehouse out here?” Your friend, Kiara asked, confused. The route you were on only had forest and maybe a couple of cabins nearby, no place where someone could be keeping 70k in cash.

“That's what she said, hehe that's what she said” JJ smirked and you from your spot on his lap slapped his thigh and gave him a warning but playful look.

‘Shut up” Pope said unimpressed which only made JJ's smile fall into a frown.

“Sorry baby,” You said and kissed the tip of his nose and his smile was back immediately. He had already forgotten his bad joke.

“Cops? out here?” Your little make-out session was interrupted by the flashing of the red and blue lights and siren.

“Hide the gold!” All the pogues panicked and tried acting as innocent as possible, but JJ only tightened his arms across your lower stomach holding you against him.

Barry appeared, his face hidden with a skull scarf, and in his hand was a shotgun. He raised it, pointing it directly at John B. in the driver's seat. You all froze, hearts pounding.

“Why don't you get out and raise those arms in the air” Barry sneered. “Right now!”

John B stepped out of the van, hands raised high in fear.

“Come everyone get out! Let's go”  Shaking you slowly got up from your place in JJ's lap and got out of the car.

“There you go pretty girl, hurry up!” He pointed the gun in your face, the barrel touching your forehead.

“Relax bro!” JJ jumped out after you and instinctively pushed you behind him. His face was dark with anger as he screamed. Your heart jumped in your throat when the gun shifted from you to him.

“Stay back bitch!” he shouted at JJ.

“Face down in the ditch, get down on your knees” He threatened with his gun and pushed down Pope's head as you all got down in the dirt.

After a short while, Barry went into the van and went looking for the gold but as he was searching John b got up and went into his car to ambush him.

Thankfully his plan worked and as soon as John B got the gun out of his hand you all rushed to help. JJ ran and punched him in the ribs, Kie punched his face, Sarah pulled the car door on his face twice and you kicked him as hard as you could where the sun dont't shine.

Barry spat, his anger mingled with a hint of fear now. “You’re dead for this. You hear me? All of you!” You all just took what he had stolen from you and left.

Later that night in bed pressed against JJ's stomach at the chateau you thought about the situation.

“You can't jump in front of me when there's a gun involved” You whispered and JJ's rubbing movement on your back stopped.

“the hell I can't” he scoffed.

“You're gonna get hurt badly if you keep protecting me.”

“It's my job to protect you, if something happens to you I will literally die, I can't live without you” His sentence made your head shoot up.

“You mean that?”

“You're the love of my life y/n, nothing matters more to me than you.” You carefully laid your head back down on his chest where you could hear his heartbeat and hugged him tight, almost wanting to crawl into his skin.

The third time you were out in open water, nowhere to turn, and adrenaline was coursing through your veins. Sarah had gotten kidnapped by her family and you and the rest of the pogues were on a mission to save her.

The boat pitched and swayed on the ocean. JJ and you stood side by side, backs pressed to the railing, as you faced off against Renfield, an employer of Ward Cameron. 

The man grinned wildly, holding a machete with a terrifying confidence, the blade shining menacingly in his hands. 

“JJ look out!” He lunged forward, machete raised, his eyes locked on JJ. Your heart leaped in fear, but JJ ducked, narrowly dodging the swing. The machete sliced through the air, missing by an inch.

Before he could make another move, you stepped in, launching a punch right into his nose throwing him off his balance. But he quickly got back up continuing the fight.

Before JJ could fully react, Renfield rushed forward, landing a brutal punch across his jaw. The force of the blow sent JJ stumbling backward, right up against the railing. Disoriented, he struggled to regain his balance.

His vision was blurry but he didn’t miss how The blunt end of the machete in the man's hand was making a beeline for your head.

“Y/N!” He lunged from the floor and pushed you out of the way. 

Your heart dropped to the bottom of your feet as you watched JJ topple backward receiving the hit that was initially meant for you, arms flailing as he plunged into the dark, icy water below.

“JJ!” you screamed, rushing to the side, your eyes frantically scanning the water for any sign of him. The boat rocked beneath you as you leaned over, the sound of your heartbeat roaring in your ears.

Without a second thought, you kicked the man and jumped in after your boyfriend.

“JJ!” You swam closer and closer until you reached his floating body, you held him and hugged him close to your body, elevating his face above the water.

“Please! John B.” You felt yourself sink further as you frantically moved your legs beneath you.

“Please, JJ I can't, I can't” You choked on the water filling your mouth.

As you sank several pairs of hands grabbed onto you and JJ pulled you onto a smaller boat when you realized your friends had saved you you rushed to JJ's side, begging, and shaking his shoulder attempting to bring him back.

“Please get up!” suddenly he began coughing up water and slowly opening his eyes.

“Oh my God” You sobbed and held his face gently with your hands.

“Sup” Everyone around you erupted in laughter and you laid your forehead on his chest giggling.   “Don’t… ever do that again,” you said, your voice barely a whisper.

JJ chuckled weakly. “Can't promise anything”

You rolled your eyes, a smile breaking through despite the panic that still lingered. 

“I'm coming with you,” you argued.

“No you're not,” JJ said as he was putting his diving gear on.

“Yes, I am” You take the second wetsuit and start unzipping it.

“Hey, no” he takes it from your hands and puts it aside.

“Yes, JJ. I am going down with you whether you like it or not” Your tone hardens which took him aback, JJ rarely saw this bossy side of you, you were always soft-spoken and gentle or at least with him you were. 

After pulling on the suit and oxygen gear both you and JJ were ready to go down.

“Okay guys remember the safety stops, or else you get the bends” Pope warned and you both nodded.

The water was calm and clear. Underwater, everything was peaceful and quiet, the only sounds coming from the rhythmic hiss of your breathing through the scuba gear and the faint echo of distant waves above. It felt like a different isolated world.

He gestured to you, pointing toward a dark shape partially buried under a rocky overhang. You nodded, eyes bright under the goggles as you swam toward it, fins propelling you through the water. 

But before either of you could examine the wreckage further, a shadow passed over you, casting a sudden darkness across the sandy floor.

Just as you looked up, the unknown diver was on you. The stranger grabbed you by the shoulder, yanking you backward, forcing you to drop the small underwater flashlight you had been holding. 

“y/n!” JJ’s eyes widened as he took the spear he had brought down with him and stabbed the attacker without mercy. But that angered him. Quickly he turned and punched JJ, with his skills he swam quickly and locked JJ up in a room inside the wreck while he was disoriented, leaving you alone with the man.

“NO!” he yelled but it was muffled by the oxygen tube.

The stranger’s hands reached for you again, trying to get hold of your air tank, and when he did he cut off your oxygen supply. Your lungs burned instantly from the lack of oxygen and panic.    As soon as JJ managed his way out of the trap he was in, he shoved his regulator into your mouth, completely uncaring about his need for oxygen. He took your hand while you were taking desperate breaths and he kicked himself forward, rushing to the surface and escaping from the attacker.

As you broke through the water, you both gasped for breath and clung to each other, adrenaline pumping through your veins. 

“Are you okay!” His hands reached for your face, and you only weakly nodded.

“Talk to me please, baby” 

“I'm okay” You swam closer to him and he held you without daring to let go until John B was near.

When you finally reached the safety of the boat you and your boyfriend sat close. You were still panting, your chest heaving but as you took another breath, you felt a sudden, sharp pain twist through your chest.

"Guys, are you okay?" Kiara asked, noticing the pained expression on your face.

You tried to respond, but winced, feeling an intense, stabbing ache radiate from your joints to his abdomen. Your head spun, and you suddenly felt nauseous as though your blood had turned to acid. Panic flashed in Pope's eyes as he watched you and his best friend struggle, the realization hitting him hard. 

"They have the bends, we need to get them to the hospital" Pope and Cleo slid their arms around JJ's back lifting him up and John B. and Sarah did the same to you. 

JJ panicked at the sudden disconnection between you too, You were so close now so far apart because of your friends separating you. 

“y/n” JJ moaned as pain shot through his side.

“We're getting you both to the hospital!” pope shouted. The ride felt like thousands of hours, the pain was unbearable. 

"Almost there, guys, just hold on," Sarah encouraged, as she tried making you both take deep breaths. 

The van rattled down the dirt road, jostling you and JJ in the back as you leaned against each other, pale and clammy, both fighting the building pressure in your heads and chests. 

“go, go, go” one of your friends screamed and tore the van door open pulling you out of the car. You struggled through the hospital door and in a second you were shoved into a small, cramped hyperbaric chamber that was barely big enough to fit one person, let alone two.

After a couple of minutes of groaning, heavy breathing and twitching you both cooled down shoulders pressed against one another, his breath shallow and quick, matching your own in the tightness of the space. His fingers slid into yours sneakily.

JJ glanced over, a spark of guilt in his eyes as he shifted uncomfortably now tracing his fingers on your face. “I'm sorry I couldn't protect you from all this” he murmured, his voice barely above a whisper.

You met his gaze, his face so close you could see every freckle on his sun-kissed skin. You swallowed, trying to ignore the way his hand brushed your cheek as he reached to tuck a loose strand of hair behind your ear.

“I'm glad you didn't,” you said. JJ’s hand lingered, his fingers warm against your skin, and you felt yourself leaning in, just slightly, as though pulled by a force.

“I'm glad you didn't because if you did I wouldn't be here with you ” you whispered, unable to look away.  Before you could stop yourself, you closed the gap, kissing him with a fierceness you didn’t know you had.

JJ’s lips met yours, soft and warm, and his hands found their way to your waist, pulling closer. The hum of the machine, the aching in your muscles, even the fear — all of it fell away, leaving only the two of you, tangled together in this moment.

“It’s the first and last time I ever let something happen to you, got it?” You grinned and rolled your eyes. You shifted, grabbed a pillow and quickly pushed it directly in front of the circular window before climbing on his lap pressing a deep kiss to his plumped pink lips.

Only the two of you know what happened in that chamber in the minutes that followed.

[2hoothoots]

saw this post in the tag earlier talking about how we never really get a detailed look inside Maligula’s mind, and it got me thinking about the themes of the game again so I’m gonna use it as a jumping-off point. because i agree, it’s very significant that we never get to really see Maligula/Lucrecia as she used to be! but i think that fact actually makes the game much stronger, especially on a thematic level.

Lucrecia’s presence haunts the narrative throughout Psychonauts 2. at first, we can only make her out through her absence. she’s the seventh stump around the campfire, the missing center of a torn photo. we see glimpses of her in the ruined fragments of Ford’s mind. in Helmut’s mind, she’s a looming specter, a shadow of the friend he once knew. in Gristol’s mind, she’s a celebrated war hero. and as the game goes on, we learn that everything in Psychonauts 1 – the Aquatos leaving Grulovia, the family ‘curse’, Raz running away to camp – all of that was set in motion because of her. she’s at the very center of the tragedy that PN2 revolves around.

and she does haunt the narrative, even if Nona is still alive. because the old Lucrecia – the real Lucrecia – we never get to meet her. she’s long gone.

the closest we come to actually interacting with Lucrecia, as she used to be, is in Cassie’s mind. while the rest of the Psychic 7 only have a few lines to share, paper Lucrecia has a full dialogue tree. this is probably one of my favourite moments in the whole game. there’s an awe in Raz’s face, getting to meet her, but also this palpable tension throughout the conversation.

(screenshots taken from here! if you don’t remember this conversation, or just want a refresher, i’d highly recommend going back to watch it.)

this dialogue tree is great. it’s funny, and subtle, and surprisingly moving. Raz is full of questions for Lucrecia, and Lucrecia isn’t giving much away, but we get glimpses of her story here that are so tantalising. it’s a fascinating window into the person she used to be: coy, and playful, and a little aloof.

but – this is also very clearly not Lucy. we hear Cassie’s own thoughts coming out of her mouth (“Cassie told us [hydraulic mining] was very bad for the environment, but nobody listened to her, as usual”), but her dialogue is also steeped in Cassie’s confusion, her struggle to understand what happened (“I don’t really know [why I murdered all those people]. I was the nicest person during my time at Green Needle Gulch”). this is the closest we ever get to seeing Lucrecia, face-to-face, but she’s still heavily filtered through someone else’s perception.

how much of this is the real Lucrecia, and how much of it is just how Cassie sees her? we’ll never know.

i think a crucial part of PN2’s themes is that perception – how you can be someone completely different to different people around you. everyone has their own version of the story to tell. the most obviously propagandistic is Gristol’s retelling, which comes as a shock twist at a climactic moment that throws the whole game on its head. here, we get to see the other side of the story, from someone who only ever knew Lucrecia as a protector, a general, a murderer – and thought she should stay that way.

(screenshots from here)

but as entrenched as he is in his narrative, Gristol doesn’t have all the answers, either. and Ford’s version of events, while probably more factually correct, is still steeped in his own biases. Ford was so dedicated to the memory of the woman he loved that he did terrible things for her; and when he tried to bury that memory, it was so deeply entrenched in his mind that it broke him.

(screenshot from here)

but note the wording, when he talks about using the Astralathe to “neutralise” the “problematic” parts of her mind. My Lucy.

something else that PN2 touches on is how experiences change you. after the battle against Maligula, the remaining members of the Psychic 7 become very different individuals. Cassie withdraws from the world, unable to return to normality after everything that happened; Compton becomes an anxious wreck without his support network. Bob is broken with grief after the loss of his husband, and Ford willingly shattered his mind because it was what he thought he had to do to keep Lucrecia safe. and throughout the game, Raz helps all of them – but he doesn’t fix them. he doesn’t undo everything they went through, because how could he? the things that happened will stay with each of them forever.

and it’s the same with Lucrecia. even after she lets go of the rage and grief and violence that Maligula carried with her, symbolically severing the threads that bind her to her past – she doesn’t just go back to her old self. because she’s someone different now, too. she’s a mother, and a grandmother, and she loves her family so truly and so deeply. she’s patched together a new life for herself. and that’s what she affirms to Raz, in the moments before the final fight.

and he loves her right back. even after everything he’s learned, she’s still his Nona.

i think sometimes a story is more satisfying for not giving you the easy answers. Psychonauts 2 leaves a lot of things unsaid. it gives you pieces of the puzzle, glimpses of Lucrecia’s story through other people’s eyes, and asks you to draw your own conclusions from that. and then it says: this is who she is now. this is what matters. and personally, i think it’s stronger for that.

[controlsy]

These are the main characters of the story! A Spinch scientist in the mountain town of Ragus Kaep named Dr. Hawk wanted to do something no scientists had ever done before, which was create an entirely new form of life. Though he succeeded, it didn't go how he thought it would.

His intentions were to make an ESPer robanthry who could take in every piece of information imaginable. Verge N. 1 was his first attempt at this. Verge is effectively a "technology ESPer" which means he can read all data from every piece of technology. As an example, looking at a phone he could read through its entire message history, its browsing history, every app it has, every contact, and every voicemail. However, unlike regular ESPers, he cannot read the intentions behind messages that are sent.

Hawk considered Verge to be on the brink (or verge) of success, but not good enough, so he created Verse N. 2, who was the second attempt. Verse is exactly what he wanted- he can not only read technology, but also the minds of regular anthries and every living thing. Verse is, quite literally, the most dangerous thing that has ever lived on Spinch.

Hawk's intentions were bad- he wanted to use them for evil gains, but he didn't anticipate how much free will they'd have, and instead of being able to use their abilities for wrongdoing, he simply puts them through testing and tasks and experiments to see what they are capable of. He controls their lives.

Verse resents their creator because he doesn't view either of them as actual people, and he's full of bitterness and anger. Verge doesn't like Hawk either, but he also has a SERIOUS complex about the fact he's literally the "failure" of the project, while Verse is the "success". Verge and Verse are also technically the same person in their programming- Verse is simply an "improved" edition of Verge. Hawk just built them with different appearances to differentiate them. Both of them also have huge identity issues and want to be their own people and don't like that they're the same person... at least most of the time, when sometimes Verge falls into the wish that they WERE literally the same because Verse is "better" than him.

ESPer robanthries are different from regular anthries in one major way. They have the ability to control their powers instead of it being non-stop and un-mutable. One aspect of robanthry biology is the fact that, since they are computers, all of their "senses" are just programs, so they can turn them on and off. They can turn off their hearing, their sight, their voice, or their sense of touch at any time. The ESPer sense is technically just another program, so they can turn that off too.

I hope you guys like them!!!

[massivelyshadyshawdows]

First things first, I'll start the day with a meticulous cleaning routine. You see, a good toy is not only visually appealing but also hygienic and well-maintained. I've scrubbed every inch of my body, ensuring that I'm squeaky clean and smelling of sweet vanilla. After all, who doesn't love the scent of freshly baked cookies wafting from a submissive little slut? With my skin feeling silky smooth and my mind racing with anticipation, I've lubricated my tight holes, making sure they're ready to be filled with whatever my Master desires.

Now, let's talk about the attire. I've chosen a stunning black latex catsuit that hugs my curves like a second skin. It's tight enough to make every inch of me look irresistible, yet flexible enough to allow for the full range of motion that comes with being a sex toy. The shine from the latex is absolutely mesmerizing, reflecting the soft glow of the room, making me feel like a living, breathing piece of art. The sound of it squelching against my skin as I move sends a thrill through my body, a reminder of the erotic playtime that awaits.

My day begins with a series of stretches to ensure my body is as limber as possible. After all, I want to be able to contort into whatever position my future owner finds most pleasurable. As I stretch, my muscles protest, but I know it's all for the greater good. With every bend and twist, I imagine the delight that will be etched on their face when they see how easily I can fold in half or spread my legs wider than should be humanly possible.

Speaking of spreading, I've also decided to spend some quality time with my favorite butt plug. It's a big one, gleaming black. I lube it up with a generous dollop of lube, savoring the coldness as I spread it around the tip. I take a deep breath and slowly push it in, feeling it stretch me wide and fill me up. The sensation is oddly comforting, a constant reminder of what I'm here for.

As the day progresses, I'll be experimenting with different sensations. Perhaps I'll wear a pair of nipple clamps while I run errands, the constant tug keeping my nips hard and sensitive. Or maybe I'll slip a vibrator into my cunt while a coffee shop, my cheeks flushing as it hums away, bringing me closer and closer to the edge without allowing me to tip over. After all, a good toy knows how to keep itself on edge, always eager for more.

For lunch, I'll treat myself to a light meal of finger foods, something I can eat without the need for cutlery. It's all about getting used to serving myself up in bite-sized pieces for when I'm presented to my Master.

Throughout the afternoon, I'll be practicing my oral skills. I've got a dildogag that's just the right size and shape for the job, gagging and drooling like the good little slut I am. The sight of me on all fours, mouth stretched wide around a cock, is something I know will drive you wild. I'll spend hours getting used to the feel of it, the way it hits the back of my throat, making me gag and sputter.

As the sun sets, I'll slip into something a bit more… revealing. Perhaps a latex dress that barely covers my ass, or a skimpy little set that leaves nothing to the imagination. I'll wander around my apartment. After all, a good toy is always available for use, no matter where it is. I leave my door unlocked, just in case my Master decides to drop by unannounced. The thrill of not knowing if I'll be caught in such a compromising position makes my heart race and my cunt throb.

And let's not forget the finishing touches. I'll paint my face with a mask of obedience, my eyes lined with smoky black liner that makes them look like the windows to my soul—a soul that craves nothing more than to be used and abused. My lips will be a glossy red, pouty and wet, begging to be kissed or bitten. My hair will be pulled back into a tight bun, exposing my neck for whatever use my Master sees fit.

But the pièce de résistance? The collar. A shiny, chrome collar that says, without a single word, "I belong to you." It'll sit snugly around my neck, a constant reminder of my place. I'll attach a leash and lead, ready to be walked like the obedient pet I long to be.

As the night wears on, I'll keep myself entertained with a little bit of solo play. I'll tease and tantalize my clit with a vibrator, bringing myself to the brink of orgasm again and again without ever allowing myself to come. This is a crucial part of my training, learning to deny myself pleasure until it's given. By the time my Master arrives, I'll be a writhing, whimpering mess of need.

But what really makes today special is the promise of tomorrow. Each and every day is a chance to become more of the toy I was meant to be. Whether it's trying new outfits, learning new tricks, or pushing my body to its limits, I'll be eagerly awaiting the moment I'm picked up and played with.

So, today I'm becoming a better plaything. Submissive, eager, and ready for whatever comes my way. And when tomorrow rolls around, I'll wake up and do it all again. Because that's what good toys do. They crave the attention, the use, and the pleasure of serving and as the days go by, I'll only get better at it. More empty. More sexy. More slutty. More… me.

What are you doing today to be a better toy?

Could be anything, really. You might have decided that today you'll crawl around on all fours when you're in private, so that you can more easily feel like the submissive little pet you want to be. Maybe you've made up your mind to lift up your top and expose your tits when you're working at your desk, or spend the day bottomless, all to feel more exposed and slutty. Hell, you could even have resolved to spend a few minutes every hour pressing a toy into yourself, because you want to get more used to and eager for that feeling of being stuffed full.

Every single day is an opportunity to make yourself emptier, happier, and closer to the kind of plaything you want to be.

So, once again:

What are you doing today to be a better toy?

Share your methods down in the replies or reblogs! I'm sure that other bimbos, pets, and dolls would appreciate the new ideas.

[izzabela]

Could you write headcanons for the Lin Kuei trio (Cyrax & Sektor too if possible) with an Autistic reader helping them deal with a sensory overload? Thank you! ^_^

Too Much - Lin Kuei x GN!autistic!reader (headcanons)

in which you experience a sensory overload

a/n: i'm back

ship[s]: tomas vrbada, kuai liang, bi han, cyrax, sektor x GN!autistic!reader (separate)

warning(s): sensory overload (i did my best on research guys), pre-lin kuei split

Sensory overload: "...occurs when one or more of the body's senses is overstimulated to a point where a person is unable to cope."

While it can be used for PTSD and OCD, for the purposes of this fic, it will be related to autism and people on the spectrum

Tomas Vrbada - Ear-clapping

- ear-clapping is one of the more serious mechanisms that could happen with a sensory overload, which involves the person with autism to aggressively clap their ears. in the most severe cases, screaming and crying can occur

- Tomas learned this was caused by very loud sounds

- to help you, he learned that immediately moving you to a quieter area works wonders

- if there were no available quiet spaces, he did his best to hold you very tightly (and i mean very tightly) and cover your ears for you himself

- sometimes, during the severe attacks, you scratched his arm because they were in the way, but he powered through because you would not only calm down, but according to him- "tis but a scratch!"

Kuai Liang - Foot-tapping

- Kuai Liang used to think you foot-tapped when you were annoyed

- it always happened during the meetings where they were held in the old meeting hall, where the flames always seemed to flicker a bit too much

- or it happened when you heard the ancient clock in your shared room tick-tick-tick too much (he had it removed after weeks of back-and-forth between one of the elders)

- Kuai helps you out during these moments by just sitting next to you. he'll even talk to you (only when you say so)

- he learns that holding your hand is the best way to help you overcome the overload

Bi Han - Sensory-seeking Behavior

- Bi Han though you were really odd when he first saw you intensely smelling the unlit candle in your shared room, he realized though it was much more

- Bi Han definitely has "asian dad vibes" because his response to that was buying the entire stock of the candle you liked in case you were going somewhere and had an overload without him

- if you couldn't get your hands on the candle scent, Bi Han juggled ice balls (no you will not correct me on my headcanon that Bi Han juggles). he even mastered how to do multiple ice balls at once

- he learned this was caused by the intense smell of the incense that's burned in the training room. a combination of smelling salts plus some weird potion the elder mages imbued with the salts

- he prohibited the use of it immediately, but you occasionally smell it due to the centuries of use

- still, when you do smell it, he'll help you anyway he can

Sektor - Distraction Behavior

- Sektor thought it was weird that you fiddled with the stylistic wires that stuck out on the back of her helmet, but after learning it was to cope with sensory overload, she was more than happy to help

- sektor made you a personal "sensory toy," a stick with the exact wires that stuck out on one end. you use it often, but when it isn't on you, Sektor has other ideas

- she brought you this toad sculpture made of wood, with ridges sculpted in them for you to touch (you find it rather soothing)

- if it those things aren't present, Sektor doesn't mind that you fiddle with her hand: tracing pictures with your finger, playing with her fingers, etc

Cyrax - Sensory Avoidance Behavior

- after Cyrax watched you shut your eyes as tight as possible while rocking in place after dropping a huge aluminum tube, she felt really really bad

- caused by loud sounds, she learned your overload coping behavior was to not feel, see, or hear everyday sounds

- she made you a helmet that's blacked inside and out, and has incredible noise cancelling abilities

- she also made you earplugs, a combination of technology and soft materials so that you wouldn't be uncomfortable. she paired it with a simple blindfold made with the "blackest fabric dye in the world" (with what funds?)

- while there were days you wanted Cyrax to hold you, other overloads weren't as kind. sometimes you didn't want her with you, and thank the elder gods she didn't take it personal. she still felt bad leaving you alone, so she always left a pillow that was heavily doused in her natural smell

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

okay two of my mass-posts

i really did my best with research on this guys, but if i wrote anything wrong or anything else, please let me know! constructive feedback is accepted, but as soon as i see insults or berating, those will be deleted and your blog will be blocked

see yall in the next fic

[randomwriteronline]

"Sweet little one, standing upright, to me you appear dressed in white. But your red nose, what wonders it does: shortens your life the longer it glows."

"A candle," Velika smiled.

"Correct." Mata Nui replied. Then, he offered another riddle: "Which part of the bird has never soared the skies but slithers instead upon the ground, and swims on the surface of the water without ever getting wet?"

"The shadow."

"Correct. Two parents have five daughters; each daughter has a brother, and each brother has five siblings. How many members compose this family?"

"Eight."

"Correct. A beast of long legs, of strength filled to the brim - yet no eyes adorn its head, its intelligence quite dim."

"Pinchers."

"Correct. Today is the third of seven days. In seven years, which of seven will today be?"

"The fourth."

"Correct. I am that which cannot be touched, but inhabits all living things; I am what kills them, burning quietly, and through their mouths the plume of my combustion shows in the cold."

"Oxygen."

"Correct. Through my long black neck breathes my red heart, hacking out smoke as warmth from me departs."

"A stove."

"Correct. She who fights the winds and waves from the bowels of the seas to maintain her treasure so far away, thin yet heavy, weak yet invincible: who is she?"

"The anchor."

"Correct. A ship rotted upon the shore: each plank that fell away was slowly replaced, until it was remade completely new. Yet from the rotten planks, preserved adeguately, a second ship was constructed in the image of the original. Which one then is the true ship?"

"Both and neither," Velika smiled. He tilted his head in his hand, amused. "You're really not good at this."

"An 'and' is not an answer." Mata Nui replied: "Please choose."

"It doesn't matter, does it?"

"A rethorical question is not an answer. Please choose."

"The one from preserved wood."

"I see. A crow, dying of thirst, struggled to get water from a deep vase lodged in a pebbled shore. In its desperation, it began piling rocks upon one another; and so it saved itself. How?"

"By piling them in the vase, forcing the water upward."

"Correct. Swells all around you, like a glove fitting; never shall it hold you, cold embrace fleeting."

"Fog."

"Correct. An unusual farmer plows through a barren snowy field, sowing black seeds in quick succession; what he reaps is just one fruit which feeds many over the years, and never wilts, but only lasts as long as it is not burnt or faded."

"The written word."

"Correct. It is one of the visages by which we can be recognized, odorless, colorless, impalpable - and yet it can reach us far away."

"The voice."

"Correct. It is what the rich lack and poor have plenty of, what the strong fear and the weak have power over, what the happy desire and the dead need."

"Nothing."

"Correct. What am I doing?"

"Stalling me."

Mata Nui smiled: "Correct."

Velika did not move.

"It's useless, you know," he said, grin frozen upon his fake Matoran face as it struggled to hide his true one: "You can't stop me from my goal with these little guessing games of yours."

"I was under the impression you quite enjoyed making riddles."

"I made you."

"You helped. It was admirable, indeed; but it was not your labor alone. You are not one for the practical sciences, after all."

"I made you. You are a soul, a thinking brain. I allowed you to be that."

"You, and others."

"Does the fine print matter?"

"Of course it does. You would wrongfully claim full ownership over the universe entrusted to me otherwise."

"I made them. They are sapient because I allowed them as much."

"And you wish to destroy them now, as they are past their use, and for them to comply and go quietly to you, without making a mess, as otherwise it would be quite the inconvenience."

"Of course."

"Fathers owe their children as much as their children owe them."

"They're not my children," Velika laughed loudly as if that was the most hilarious thing he'd ever heard: "They are a successfully completed experiment! Archived and finished! I can't leave the mess of my previous project all over my desk if I want to start a new one, don't you think?"

Mata Nui did not move.

"You are awfully cruel in your insatiable curiosity." he noted simply. "Indeed, you are Teridax's father."

"I told you I don't have children."

"But we were your successors, were we not? A lonely god on a mindnumbingly long journey, one scientist in a team with delusions of grandeur."

"You are things I made. Things I gave awareness to. Nothing more."

"Nothing more?"

"Nothing more."

"Is this also your opinion of the universe within me?"

"Of course."

"Then you have no claim on us."

Velika raised his head from his palm and laughed. He laughed again, spitting out phonemes without a rhythm. He forced himself to laugh, because otherwise the confused wrath within him would have needed to explode in some other way.

"Pardon?"

"It brings a riddle to mind."

"I don't want a riddle. What did you just say?"

"Again, I was under the impression that you enjoyed posing riddles. At inopportune times most of all."

"Cut it. What did you say?"

"A woman bore her daughter, and decided it was not her duty to care for her: she still observed her growth over the years for sake of a morbid fancy, never intervening nor gaining any affection for her. At last the daughter found great happiness and fortune; and so her mother came, and demanded a part of her riches as compensation for giving birth to her. Was she right in requesting as much?"

"I said I don't want a riddle!"

"That is not an answer. Please choose."

"Quit that! What did you say to me?"

"That is not an answer. Please choose."

"You insulted me, is that it? You insulted me?"

"That is not an answer. Please choose."

"Shut up!"

"That is not an answer. Please choose."

"Fine! Fine, you broken piece of junk, fine. Repeat it, I didn't listen."

"A woman bore her daughter, and decided it was not her duty to care for her: she still observed her growth over the years for sake of a morbid fancy, never intervening nor gaining any affection for her. At last the daughter found great happiness and fortune; and so her mother came, and demanded a part of her riches as compensation for giving birth to her. Was she right in requesting as much?"

"No, she denied custody and has no say over her nor her belongings."

"Correct."

"So? What did you say?"

"I said the exact thing you repeated with your answer." Mata Nui replied. "You have shirked your responsability towards us, and you have no right to decide of our fate."

"You are things," Velika hissed: "Things are made!"

"We are people. People are made, too."

"People are born! They are thinking creatures!"

"Are we not, then?"

"No! You are things that I have given sapience to! You owe me life! Obedience! You owe me everything you are!"

"Are we then yours?"

"Yes!"

"By what virtue?"

"By virtue of creation!"

"By virtue of birth." Mata Nui repeated. "A virtue that we have agreed holds no water when a parent abandons their children."

Velika's eyes burned: "You are made," he insisted. "Not born."

"People are made, too. They are engineered by chance, put together by two others. The creation progress requires time and resources; afterwards, the new being needs to be programmed and taught what to do, what not to do, through trial and error."

"It's different. It's completely different. I gave you that intelligence. In people it's innate."

"From when? From the moment your cells are assembled? From the second you develop eyes? From the instant you are brought into the world, kicking and screaming? There is indeed an ability, innate, for understanding tasks and languages; but it all has to be instructed. Neither of us were born capable of speech, yet we could understand a language of our own, for that is how we were both built."

"Do not equate yourself to me. You are code, bits and pieces of electricity, the vague hint of a self."

"On that same electricity is based the neural system that is your 'I'."

"But I am your maker. I created you. Not the other way around."

"And so? You have denied custody of us. You refuse to recognize our personhood. Are you not our parent who abandons us, our creator who destroys us?"

"I have no children!"

"Then we do not owe you anything."

Velika raised his hand and grabbed the air, right where a neck should have been.

"I will kill you," he threatened: "I will annihilate you."

Mata Nui held his gaze without flinching: "That you can."

They remained still.

The room was empty.

"I had such knowledge to share... But it would have been too long to tell, I am afraid." he only lamented. "I have lived a long life, all in all - sometimes it has even been pleasant. A lousy god such as myself will not make much difference by now, alive or otherwise: my people have moved on from any whims that may have moved my requests once. Go on then, if it pleases you."

The hand twitched, but did not close.

It spasmed, clutching, hardening, but did not close.

Velika clenched his jaw, tightening his fist, but it did not close.

He tried, and tried, and tried, and tried, and tried; but it did not close.

"I will kill you," he hissed. But suddenly he wasn't sure he could.

Mata Nui waited.

Nothing happened.

His hand of thought - invisible, impalpable, barely real - grazed his creator's chin and lifted it slightly with his fingertips.

"What is it that the brilliant man standing before the machine he has made to do his bidding - to labor away endlessly in his stead, to travel where he would not, to learn what he could not, to sing and write and draw what he cannot - fears most of all?"

The Great Being did not answer.

Silence stretched over the small endless space the word should have been spoken into through his voice.

Mata Nui smiled.

"Leave." he ordered. "There is no place in this world for a god that treats its people like toys."

Velika lunged forward and grasped the Ignika in his hands.

By the time other beings arrived drawn in by the horrid noises, the body writhing and raving had lost its limbs, its bones, maybe even its skin. It clung to the golden artifact still somehow, trying desperately to claw at it, break it, unleash its wrath upon it as it continued to mutate the creature into something less and less able to function the longer it remained latched upon its surface by its own stubborn volition; it howled wordlessly, voice cawing through what was supposed to be its mouth in a garbled attempt at speaking, but there was no mind behind the gruesome wailing - just a violent, infinite, senseless anger.

It shrieked at them when they rushed to put it down, partly frightened to death by it, partly trying to spare it from the anguished existence it was bound to go on to live - screamed something, something that could have been 'obedience', or close enough.

Mata Nui did not stir from sleep.

[bimbo-baggins17]

So many people write about Sam taking reader's virginity, but ever thought about reader taking his? Like, Sam bragging about fucking a lot and stuff, then when reader finally decides to get down with him, all his smug posture washes down, and he's sitting on the bed like a soggy cat without knowing what to do because he never actually did anything

I love your ideas sm UGHHHHHH because I can totally see this happening.

He’s talked a big game this whole time, through text, over the phone, in person. Hell you’ve gotten your fair share of dick pics and jacking off videos from him too. But when the time actually comes (he didn’t think he’d ever end up getting the chance to sleep with you), he’s like a deer in the headlights. The only “sexual experience” he’s had is his own hand accompanying whatever overacting pornos he enjoyed.

At first it makes you hesitant. Were you not good enough? Not what he pictured? “Sam?” Your voice pulls him from whatever virgin stupor he’s in. He barely manages to croak out a “Huh-..yeah?” “Is…everything okay?” He can only manage a simple nod of his head.

“You..can touch me..y’know?” You say to him, your voice coming out soft. His eyes would snap up to your’s off of your body, swallowing past the lump in his throat. “Y-yeah..yeah okay..I-I know..” He tries to regain some of that cool exterior but the way his voice waivers and almost cracks while sounding two times higher, gives away he’s anything but.

His hands would reach out for you but wouldn’t make contact yet as he tries to figure out where exactly to put them, what to touch first. His cock was painfully hard and throbbing. His uncertainty was getting annoying.

“Why are you being so shy? I thought you promised I wouldn’t be able to walk tomorrow.” You say teasingly. His face would immediately flush as you call him out. “I-..yeah..I am..I just er-“

The way he stumbles with his words and his lack of touching (not to mention the redness of his face) gives away immediately to what the truth was. “You’re a virgin.” You point out, a grin slowly spreading onto your face.

“What?” He’d scowl immediately, “No. No, I’m not. I’m just-“ “No, you’re totally a virgin.”

The blush would creep up to the tips of ears even as he hears the teasing lilt to your voice. “Shut up.” The words are mumbled.

Your smile softens hearing how embarrassed he is to be caught in his lies, “Don’t worry, I don’t mind,” you take his shaking hands in your own and guide them onto your body, earning an audible gasp from him, “Just wish you woulda told me. I don’t mind having to teach you.”

You’d spend the rest of the night riding him and making him see stars, only stopping to use his prostate as a trampoline. Safe to say he’d be the one unable to walk in the morning.

[deanandsam-sexchester]

This is so thoughtful and beautiful and I love it, but I think Fitz's fears come from a different place, and that is his trust issues.

Attempting to kiss someone is an act of terrifying vulnerability because you expose yourself to rejection or hurt (don't I know) in a very physical intimate way.

Every time Fitz trusted someone other than Beloved he was either used or rejected. Chade used him for most of his life, ordering him around and deploying him like a tool (and then wonders why Fitz doesn't trust him).

Molly kept responding to his advances with angry retorts to the point where Fitz is shocked when she finally admits loving him... Fitz explains clearly that he argues with Molly all the time. And then she dumps him and he doesn't figure out the real reason until it's too late.

Burrich belittled Fitz all his life for being Witted, even ceasing to speak to him, and even when that magic saved his life Burrich kept telling him it was evil... Fitz was so hurt by his rejection of the Wit and by extension of Fitz himself that he doesn't dare to speak to Burrich again until he's dying. Yes he tells himself it's because of Molly and their family but I'm not buying that was the only reason.

Even Verity used him to get an heir and finish his dragon.

Starling used him to have fun a few times a year, for years, and Fool's Errand takes time to hammer the point of how betrayed Fitz feels when he finds out.

Cue the Fool reappearing in his life like the "long lost love" Jinna the hedgewitch predicted, looking beautiful, golden, graceful and all the epithets meaning "attractive" that Fitz uses to describe him.

Of course it's hard for Fitz to trust enough, after being used again and again. Of course he's subconsciously afraid the Fool will reject him like Molly would push him away angrily. Of course the taint Starling left on his perception of their relationship makes him afraid to want another.

His internalized homophobia doesn't help. The first trilogy drills in the idea that Fitz is raised among "manly" men like soldiers and guards and stablemen. He has no female figure in his life until Kettricken appears and by then he's like fifteen. If anything in his early life helps him be more in touch with his feelings through empathy and compassion, it's his Skill and Wit.

For all that Fitz reflects on love and what it means to him, the physical expressions of love he has had were not good experiences and led to relationships ending abruptly.

So yes, he probably feels like kissing Beloved is like asking to be abandoned, and since it's the only meaningful relationship he's had that hasn't disappointed him yet, he doesn't want to lose Beloved. Why would he risk it all by giving in to instinct and kissing him?

What the poor dumbass Fitz misses is that Beloved wants it too. But Beloved knows his fate and knows the tragedy that is coming and wants to enjoy what little time he can have with Fitz while trying to avoid deepening the bond so Fitz won't be so heartbroken when he dies. In fact there is an excerpt in Fool's Errand that tells of a fable the Witted have of a woman trying to bond with a cat. The moral of that story is that you shouldn't bond with a creature that can't TAKE as much as it GIVES. This is clearly a metaphor for Beloved, who will give Fitz anything but can't take his love for fear of breaking his heart when he dies.

The tragedy is tragedying at all times with these two.

It's late and I'm having Fool's Errand Thoughts. Specifically, I'm thinking about the astronomical amount of times in that book when it seemed like Fitz and Beloved were going to kiss but then let the moment fade–or–a conveniently abrupt distraction would shatter the tension (I'm looking at you: care to dance we already do scene, mirror scene, etc.).

I'd bet that Fitz really and truly wanted to kiss Beloved in those moments but held back out of the fear that allowing a kiss from him would result in His Fool leaving again. I wonder if, in the height of these romantically charged moments, Fitz would experience a flashback to the kiss in the mountains and then the image of the Fool flying off on Girl-on-a-Dragon.

Fast forward to the end of Fool's Fate when Beloved kisses Fitz and makes him whole again - The Fool doesn't run off (at least not right away), allowing Fitz to hope that this time might be different.

Not a chance in this tragic hell.

I wonder then, after Fitz emerges from the Skill Pillar, only to find that the Fool is gone, if he couldn't help but remember the kiss as just another omen of His Fool leaving him again. I wonder if he thought about the trade-off of being forged forever if it meant the Fool stayed. I wonder if Fitz would absently touch his lips and then the mark-free spot on his wrist.

So in conclusion: no wonder Fitz was so fucking weird about Kissing Beloved in the final trilogy ("panting into his mouth" - be so for real right now dude).

[blackenedsnow]

I need Postal Dude cuddling headcanons for 1-4 PLEASE *fires one of those money guns around*

cuddling with the dudes ; headcanons

WARNING: None

PAIRING: Postal (1) Dude x Reader, Postal (2) Dude x Reader, Postal (3) Dude x Reader, Postal (4) Dude x Reader

NOTE: Thanks for the ask! Writing for all four of these guys was so much fun. Enjoy!

P1 DUDE

This guy’s a bundle of nerves.

It’s a miracle he even lets you get close.

But when he finally does, it’s a whole experience.

When he finally settles (or tries to), he pulls you close, sometimes a little too tight, like he’s trying to shield you from whatever danger he thinks might be lurking nearby.

It’s a strange mix of comforting and tense, but you know it’s his way of showing he cares.

It’s like he’s saying,

“I’m a wreck, but I’ll protect you with everything I’ve got.”

Occasionally, he lets his guard down, and in those brief moments, he’ll even relax enough to bury his face in your shoulder.

It’s rare, but when he does, it’s nice—like he’s grounding himself in the only person he feels he can trust.

P2 DUDE

He’ll act like cuddling is the most ridiculous thing in the world, groaning and rolling his eyes if you even bring it up.

But despite the act, he doesn’t exactly push you away.

He just gives you a smug smirk and says something like,

“Really? This is what you want?”

But he’s already half-grinning, so you know he’s down.

Once he’s lying there with you, he’s probably smoking something,

His arm’s around you, but he’s making it look effortless, like it’s “whatever.”

But then you’ll feel him pull you a bit closer when he thinks you’re not paying attention.

He’s not totally cold—he’ll do these casual, almost subtle things like ruffling your hair or squeezing your shoulder when you’re close.

P3 DUDE

Straight up latches onto you.

The guy has zero concept of personal space, and he’ll just latch onto you without a second thought.

Sometimes you’re not even sure if he realizes how intense he’s being.

But once he’s attached, he’s not going anywhere.

Cuddling with him means getting an earful.

He talks constantly, whether he’s telling you about his day, ranting, or even just going on about whatever random thought pops into his head.

It’s annoying, but in a strange way, it’s kind of comforting.

You can tell he’s actually comfortable around you.

He’s the type to mess with you while cuddling, poking you or cracking jokes just to get a reaction.

P4 DUDE

He's just grateful to be with you LMFAO

He’s warm and soft-spoken, almost too gentle.

He’s always asking if he’s holding you right or if you’re comfortable.

He’s overly concerned with making sure you’re okay, sometimes to the point of being adorable.

“This okay for you? Need another pillow or anything?”

You have to reassure him that it really doesn't matter—probably more than once.

He’s got this light, comforting touch that’s just shy of hesitant.

He’s the type to run his fingers through your hair, his movements slow and calming, like he doesn’t want to disrupt the moment.

[ghcstpyre]

*•.¸♡ nsfw alphabet with ted logan x f!reader. MINORS BEGONE!

cw: cis female reader, obviously nsfw themes, drug use (weed)

A - AFTERCARE. (what they're like after sex)

so. many. cuddles. cuddling is always one of the first things ted wants to do after sex, regardless of how sticky and/or sweaty you both are. and it's only once you decide you feel a bit too gross that he finally peels himself away from you to fetch a towel to wipe you down, telling you how amazing and beautiful you are, how much he loves you.

B - BODY PART. (their favourite body part on you and on themself)

ted is a boob guy. doesn't matter the size, shape, or colour. every chance he gets, he's touching and groping them and he especially loves teasing your nipples during foreplay or when he's trying to rile you up.

as for himself, ted loves his hair! he takes really good care of it and it's unbelievably soft. 

C - CUM. (anything to do with cum)

listen. ted is a sprightly young man. he's horny and so into you, when he cums, he cums a lot. he can go multiple times too - most of the time he's still hard post-orgasm and can't help but push it back inside for an immediate round 2.

creampies make him a bit nervous so he usually only does them when he's either a) stoned, b) drunk, or c) so consumed with lust he can't bring himself to pull out. ted's favourite place to cum is on your chest or in your mouth.

D - DIRTY SECRET. (a dirty secret of theirs)

ted is a panty sniffer. if you're in a relationship, he will 100% steal your panties and press them against his face while he gets off. alternatively, he'll wrap them around his cock and cum in them.

if you're just friends or only hooking up, he'll be incredibly tempted to steal a pair. but he's a respectful guy and knows that would be crossing a boundary, so instead he just fantasises.

E - EXPERIENCE. (how experienced are they?)

teddy boy isn't experienced. at all. the closest he's gotten to some action begins and ends at making out and some light over-the-clothes groping with a girl at a school dance when he was 16.

having said that though, he is a really good kisser. like, leaving you weak at the knees kind of kisser. and he's a fast learner, so if you wanted to teach ted a thing or two in the bedroom, it wouldn't take him long to get the hang of it!

F - FAVOURITE POSITION.

ted thinks you look amazing from every angle, but his favourite is cowgirl. he loves loves loves it when you ride him - on the bed, on the sofa, front and back of the wyld stallyns van, anywhere it's viable. he loves being able to see your pretty face while he's inside you, grip your hips, and watch your tits bounce as you fuck yourself on him.

G - GOOFY. (are they more serious during the moment or are they humorous?)

he can be serious if the moment calls for it! but ted much prefers being able to laugh and be a little silly. he doesn't get down on himself or frustrated when something doesn't quite work and will instead crack a joke, laugh with his partner and carry on. he wouldn't be able to be with someone who wants it serious all the time - that's way too much pressure.

H - HAIR. (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes etc?)

unlike bill, ted is a hairy guy. he prefers to keep his face and upper body shaved, but leaves his armpits, snail trail and pubes (which he keeps trimmed). he doesn't bother with his arms and legs. his body hair and beard grow back really fast so he tries to keep on top of shaving at least once a week or every other week, but that 5 o’clock shadow comes in real quick.

I - INTIMACY. (how are they during the romantic aspects of the moment?)

ted is a complete hopeless romantic. he loves love, and he loves making love. going slow, savouring the moment, gentle touches and caresses, hand holding and kissing and “I love you babe”s all the way through. ted has so so so much love and affection to give, so you better be ready for the most lovey-dovey lovemaking you'll ever get.

J - JACK OFF. (do they masturbate?)

oh yes. he's a young, horny guy so he definitely does his fair bit of jerking off. probably slightly more than average, but it becomes a lot harder to get away with after moving in with bill.

at his dad's house he had his own room and the privacy to do it whenever the need took hold. after moving in with bill he has to wait until he's home alone, or does it in the shower. he once tried to do it while bill was fast asleep, but it felt too weird and invasive and he felt gross as hell doing it with his best friend only a few metres away.

K - KINK. (one of more of their kinks)

ted isn't really a kinky guy. but he is geeky and isn't immune to the lure of a bodacious babe in cosplay. semi-public sex in his van too - one of ted's favourite things is driving to a scenic remote spot, smoking up in the back of his van and getting it on. he likes the risk of it, but would absolutely dissolve on the spot from embarrassment if the two of you ever did get caught.

L - LOCATION. (favourite places to get it on)

i’ve already touched on this, but ted loves going at it in the wyld stallyns van. his top three in order are the van, the bed and then the sofa. one of the things he fantasises about is doing a crazy successful gig and pulling you into the van for a quickie between sets. he doesn't know why, but fucking in the van sort of makes him feel a bit like a rock star.

M - MOTIVATION. (what turns them on, what gets them going)

if you're ever not wearing a bra beneath your top, ted is going to have a hard time keeping his hands to himself. he also very much enjoys the miniskirt with knee-high socks combo. but most of all, he loves a girl in a leather jacket; it doesn't matter what else you could be wearing, because all ted will be thinking about is how badass and hot his babe looks in a leather jacket.

N - NO. (something they wouldn't do, their turn offs)

ted is down to try pretty much anything (within reason) at least once. aside from the obvious few, one thing he definitely isn't into is threesomes/sharing you with someone else. while he hides it very well, ted can be insecure thanks to the years of his dad chipping away at his self confidence. the idea of you wanting to be intimate with someone else while you're with him just doesn't sit right - why would you need anyone else when he has so much love to give you? ted wants to be the only one to make you feel good and special!

O - ORAL. (preference in giving or receiving, skill etc)

he's addicted to eating you out. ted could get off on the taste of you alone (and has done. many times). he absolutely loves the feeling of you squirming and rocking on his tongue, and despite the lack of experience, he's actually really good at it. more often than not, he makes a point to make you cum on his tongue before you get down to anything else.

not to say that he doesn't enjoy receiving head. the sight of you down on your knees with your mouth working over the length of him is permanently burned into his brain, and cumming in your mouth is one of his favourite things. thank god for the existence of 69ing!

P - PACE. (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual?)

both! ted is never quite rough with you - the last thing he wants is to accidentally hurt you. he'll go fast and will manhandle you a bit more than usual if he's pent up or if you're both feeling up for a quick fuck. but if you're making love, he'll obviously go slower and take his time.

Q - QUICKIE. (their opinions on quickies, how often etc)

ted loves a quickie. usually at the most inconvenient of times, too. like right before a family event, before (or during) a house party, or before bill comes back to the apartment after going out to grab a few things from the shop. again, the risk of being caught is thrilling for him, but he also loves seeing how quick and how many times he can make you cum in that short span of time.

R - RISK. (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc)

as mentioned somewhere above, ted will try pretty much anything at least once. if you suggest something new, chances are he's down to give it a go.

S - STAMINA. (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)

this boy has staminaaaaaa. he can't do a set of push-ups for shit, but he'll fuck and fuck and fuck as long as you're up for it. he'll cum, and most of the time he'll still be hard and immediately ready for another round. if he isn't still hard, he'll finger you or eat you out until you cum again, by which point he's hard again and ready to go.

he never lasts long each round though. everything about you just feels too good!

T - TOYS. (do they own any toys? do they use them on their partner or on themselves?)

ted doesn't own any toys himself, but if you wanted to start introducing them in the bedroom he'd be down for it. things like vibrators and/or dildos to use on you, or even a fleshlight or cockring for himself if you suggested it. the latter would take a bit of convincing though.

U - UNFAIR. (how much they like to tease)

he's never mean and always follows through on his teasing, but he loves to do it. he loves riling you up with little things: a hand on your waist that slowly slides up your ribs to brush his fingers against the underside of your breast while you walk through the mall, pulling you close while you sit, stoned on a couch at a house party, to whisper dirty things in your ear. 

V - VOLUME. (how loud they are and the noises they make)

ted struggles to be quiet. when he gets the opportunity to be loud, he isn't shy about it. ted wants you to know how you make him feel, whether it's words of praise or moaning. he isn't a grunter, but he'll groan.

W - WILD CARD. (a random headcanon)

sometimes ted will set aside an entire weekend for the both of you to bake weed brownies, get high and stick a bunch of nerdy movies on. but you're both only half watching, because you spend the whole time fucking and lovemaking with breaks in between for snacks and naps and cuddling.

X - XRAY. (what's going on under those clothes?)

for a guy who can barely do 5 push-ups, ted is surprisingly toned. it's all for show though and he mostly works on his arms and chest. he's got a cute squishy tummy!

now for the part of this you're obviously waiting for. yes, his dick is big. about 7-8 inches, slightly bigger than average girth. curves upwards and he's a shower not a grower.

Y - YEARNING. (how high is their sex drive?)

ted has a high sex drive. the pining, the yearning, the thirsting is all real. it's your fault for being so cute and looking so good all the time, even when you've just woken up with messy hair and drool at the corner of your mouth.

Z - ZZZ. (how quickly do they fall asleep after the deed?)

it really depends on how sleepy he is beforehand, where you are, how high he is, how snuggly the post-sex cuddles are and how many times he came/how many rounds it's been. if there's any combination of those things, chances are ted is dozing off pretty quick. whether it's a quick power nap or a full on sleep depends on what time of day it is too!

[chobblesomewrites]

Grumbo Professional Esports AU (abandoned work)

A collection of drabbles/scenes rearranged in chronological order featuring Team Coach Mumbo x Pro Player Grian. Warning; makes use of League of Legends/MOBA Mechanics. Unrealistic depiction of the esports scene.

No, this will not be fully written or edited. Prepare for weird pacing and incoherence. I'M JUST POSTING THIS SO I CAN STOP BEING ASKED ABOUT IT </3

—————

[ READ BELOW ]

Mumbo wasn't one for competitive games, but he had made exceptions from time to time. Those times mostly due to his online best friend wanting to drag him to experience almost anything and everything with him.

He wouldn't have even dreamed of touching MOBA games if it weren't for Grian begging him to, excusing that no one else but Mumbo was actually willing to deal with his competitive nature. He had first refused, firmly wanting to stick to his farming simulator games, but Grian knew too well how to act like a brat to get what he wanted.

So he found himself on [                ]’s tutorial screen, anxiously going through it while Grian remained in the Discord call with him, giggling at every noise he made every time he jumped from the sight of an enemy NPC.

“You lied when you said this game had a farming mechanic,” Mumbo accused his friend with a whine as he spam clicked on a highlighted enemy minion, clicking his tongue when he missed the gold.

Grian cackled, “Well, killing minions for gold is called farming. So technically I wasn't lying?”

Mumbo let out an audible huff of betrayal, which made Grian laugh even more as he tried killing his character to the minions out of spite.

—

Mumbo had thought he wouldn't be playing the game as often, for the main reason he had the game at all was because Grian occasionally didn't have anyone to play with, as he said. But he had plenty of friends so Mumbo didn't feel the need to open the game as he would probably be the last person on Grian's friendlist to be asked.

But dear lord was he wrong.

After getting bullied for his lack of game knowledge for one night, Grian kept inviting him to duo queue every single day. Mumbo would've been led to believe that Grian actually didn't have friends except for him if it weren't for their friends occasionally coming by to 5 man queue with them. But even then, that led Mumbo questioning even more of Grian's motives to specifically invite him of all people, adding to the fact that Grian apparently hated playing ADC but specifically only played it when in duo queue with Mumbo.

It was confusing. So, so confusing. Mumbo was so pants at the game yet Grian just kept inviting him nonetheless!

So, Mumbo thought; if Grian wanted to play with him that badly, he'd have to adjust his mentality to make sure that his best friend was actually having fun. He wasn't just here to keep Grian company anymore, he was here to now help Grian actually enjoy his games.

On weekday nights Grian would be too busy to get online, Mumbo used his free time to get on custom and try out other heroes outside of just support. He specifically tried mid laners in hopes to give Grian more opportunities to play roles outside of ADC, trying to prove that Mumbo was more than capable of handling himself!

He learned the map, how to invade, how to dodge, how to properly farm– everything. He needed to learn everything.

If it was for Grian, he'll take on everything.

–

[ DEFEAT ]

“....”

The call was silent, save for Grian who did horribly to muffle his laughter. Mumbo groaned in embarrassment into his hands, “Midlaning is hard,” he admitted in a mumble, which caused Grian to outright laugh into his mic.

“You didn't have to force yourself to try.”

“But you like playing jungle.” Mumbo pouted.

“Not all the time! Who on earth even says they like playing jungle?”

Mumbo sighed as he clicked off the after-game stats, returning back to their party lobby to see Grian already waiting to start the queue. The man already set himself back to the ADC role and it made Mumbo slump even more in guilt over his desk.

By some magical force, Grian probably felt his bad mood and he reassured with a smile, “I still think it's more fun if we're laning together.”

“You get to spoil me and you'd only have eyes for me!” Grian teased.

Mumbo felt himself flush red at that. Not knowing how to quip back, he simply said, “Shut up.”

–

5 man queues are always fun. It means Mumbo could just turn off his brain and listen to his friends talk and trash talk without having to say much because there's enough of them to hold the conversation together.

Mumbo was about to fully zone out while watching Grian’s character farm freely in their lane when he heard him speak up about something in their team's idle conversation on call.

“You know, I actually plan to be a professional gamer.”

From whatever conversation the call was going through, everyone in their friend group broke into laughter at Grian's admittance. Mumbo could hear Grian's pout as he tried to defend his dream, “I'm serious here!”

Their friends laughed even more, “How plausible would that even be as a job? We're just teenagers, dude. Who would wanna sign kids like us?”

Their words were obviously just trying to tease Grian, but Grian didn't take it lightly. The ADC went quiet as the friends in call continued on about how ridiculous of a scene it would be if anyone of them were to actually turn out to be 

Out of nowhere, Mumbo suddenly spoke up, “I think it's not impossible.”

The conversation paused and Mumbo suddenly felt conscious of the attention on his words. Nonetheless, he continued on, “I believe in you, if you are still going to try.”

“I'll try it with you.”

The call bursted into laughter again, even Grian couldn't help but giggle, which made Mumbo feel hot in the face from embarrassment. He spent the rest of the game making so many mistakes because the entire call kept teasing him for making such bold declarations.

He was able to live through 2 games of that until the other 3 friends in their team decided to log off, leaving him with Grian. Mumbo had thought that he would log off too, but he simply clicked the queue button without saying anything, leaving 

2 minutes into the queue, Grian finally spoke up, “I'm holding you up to that promise, you know.”

“You better go professional with me.”

Mumbo wonders if he's gonna regret promising that, given how ominous Grian makes it sound as if he's sold his soul to the devil. But if the devil were Grian, he finds that he doesn't really mind missing a part of himself.

–

Ever since that promise, Grian had been relentless with playing with Mumbo. Not that he wasn't always relentless before, but Grian was now determined to actually help Mumbo catch up to his level. They've even started custom 1v1s in hopes to improve.

Other people, if they were in Mumbo's position, would've been annoyed. Given how Grian tends to get frustrated eventually, Mumbo just takes it as a sign to be better. He couldn't slack.

He knew that Grian wasn't specifically frustrated at his skills, he was frustrated and anxious of the possibility that Mumbo wouldn't be able to sign with him if he didn't improve. They needed to do it together, Grian was stubborn to make sure of that fact.

So Mumbo didn't fault him for he loved him.

–

“Are you signed to a team?”

An account that was obviously a smurf had privately messaged him one time after a solo queue game Mumbo played while waiting for Grian. He ignored it, assuming that it was a scammer pretending to be a professional. He even went to quickly unfriend the account with this thought in mind and sat in the party lobby for a few minutes before a friend request came in.

“Xvoid,” Mumbo murmured out. He frowned and leaned back on his chair in thought, wondering if he's seen that username before. Probably in his other games, but Mumbo doesn't really actively pay attention to the randoms he and Grian match up with.

It was when he was about to decline the friend request that Grian joined the lobby with a very loud, “Mumbo Dumbo Bumbo Jumbo!”

“Grian,” Mumbo returned the sentiment, sounding more exasperated than excited like Grian. His friend must've realized something from that tone difference as he immediately questioned, “What's up?”

“Someone messaged me about signing to a team and now I'm trying to remember who this XVoid person is.”

Grian made a noise of surprise, “XVoid? Xisuma?”

“Who?”

“The Captain of [            ]! I thought we watched enough live streams together to know this?”

“... Grian, I only know Etho in that team!”

Grian made a noise of offense and went off on a tangent about each and every member of the team that was not Etho, scolding Mumbo for being a ‘solo fan’. Mumbo ignored him, hovering his mouse over Xisuma's friend request.

If it is the captain of that team, Mumbo can only assume that this was probably just a fan account. It didn't hurt to accept it. He's had a lot of friends in his friend list that he decidedly ignored a lot anyway. He just accepts them for the sake of filling that friend list.

With that over with, Mumbo started the queue, still ignoring Grian who was scolding his ear off.

–

Mumbo should've known there was going to be more to the friend request than he realized. What he assumed was a fan account was actually just the professional player's sub account.

Xisuma's team had taken notice of Mumbo, and even personally invited him to be their main team's support rather than simply being a substitute. Mumbo was about to disagree at first, discussing with Grian that he still wanted to play professionally with him, but Grian didn't stall him. He simply said;

"Go," and Mumbo had thought Grian hated him for being noticed by a team until he added, "I'll catch up."

And they left it at that. Mumbo signed with Xisuma's team as their support player but didn't even get to react properly that his online best friend didn't message him at all anymore as he was forced to move to a team provided account, leaving his personal one to the dust.

–

Mumbo's esports career didn't last longer than four years, but it was a good start for a while. He didn't have any experience whatsoever but his team was kind enough to help him throughout. He also found that a lot of people seem to like his awkward attitude so he didn't feel the need to upkeep a certain persona.

But with the constant change of meta to aggressive supports, his steady gameplay had no use in any team comps. It didn't help that, at every tournament, he got sadder and sadder the more he realized he couldn't see a certain username anywhere in both domestic and international teams even after a while. 

Grian wasn't there. The reason he was here at all, wasn't there. 

He had been moved to a substitute player midway through his career, replaced with someone more younger and aggressive in playstyle, his other teammates had also either retired or moved to better teams. The team’s management was still fond of him and he was only really kept for the fans' sentiments, but Xisuma didn't want him to live the rest of his life as a decoration, noticing the way Mumbo didn't enjoy his current status. The team they were in contract with wasn't getting any better either. They weren't going anywhere like this. Their skills could be put to more use somewhere. 

They couldn't accept the current state of things when they hadn't even won a single international championship to their name. Xisuma owed Mumbo at least a trophy for signing him up for the big leagues at such a young age that he could've used the time to explore more of his life.

He had offered Mumbo two things; Xisuma would pay so he could go back to college, or he could sign to Xisuma's budding esports company for a new chance.

As a coach, that is.

Mumbo had almost been tempted to say he would rather go back to studying, but Xisuma added more to his offer that he couldn't refuse; "You can choose the team. You'll be their main coach, after all."

Mumbo remembered that someone still promised to catch up, and he'd be willing to be a coach if it meant dragging him up here.

He promised. They promised they'd go together.

For the first time in a few years, Mumbo logged back in to his old account and clicked on a familiar user on his friend list.

"Grian,"

"You there?"

–

Mumbo wasn't confident for a while that Grian would reply back. It had been a good long while, after all. Would Grian even remember him? Mumbo's sure he himself hasn't forgotten the other, but he doesn't know if the sentiments are the same. 

Mumbo didn't really have the time to be too anxious about it either, busy helping Xisuma with properly setting up the company while also looking for managers and analysts to help him with forming the team.

The next time he finally checked his account again, he was disappointed when there was no message back. But one thing that gave him hope was when Grian’s user was lit up. He was online. And Mumbo could see damn well that his best friend, if he could still call him that, was actually just struggling to come up with a reply, especially when the indication of the other person typing kept popping up and disappearing over and over.

At least, with that, Mumbo knows that he wasn't fully ignored.

After a bit of waiting, he decided to give mercy to whatever message Grian is taking this long to send.

"Queue?"

And then the indication of Grian typing stopped. Then replying,

"You literally returned from war after how many and your first message is to ask to queue?? Not even gonna say hi to the kids?"

Mumbo burst out laughing. Somehow, it feels as if he never left for the professional scene and is back to his teenage self.

"How are you?"

"Got wife and kids."

Mumbo frowned at that, "Seriously?"

"No, you idiot. I'm this young and you think I'd have a kid already?"

"..." Mumbo rolled his eyes

"So what have you been doing this entire time?” I waited for you to catch up. Did you lie to me?

“Well one of us had to go to college, Mumbo.”

“Low Blow.”

“My bad.” Grian then typed, “Queue?”

“So now you’re trying to distract me by asking to play?”

“It's also been a while. I'm itchin’.”

Mumbo checked the time. He's fairly free for the rest of the day. And it's been a while since he's had genuine fun in the game, “Well, we ‘oughta scratch it!”

“Attaboy!”

–

They queue together for a while. Mumbo's old account had considerably ranked down so they were in lower elos. It wasn't that hard to win easily.

Grian was still good at the game, probably even better. He could catch up with Mumbo’s thinking, and Mumbo’s got the professional experience. One thing that bothered him was that Grian didn’t initiate a call like they always did years ago. Comms and all. Mumbo was left with Grian’s spam pinging and visual cues. Mumbo was too shy to ask about it, so he forced himself to be happy enough with Grian playing around with the emotes when they were idle in lane.

But surprisingly, when Mumbo thought they were about to log out, Grian told him to get in-game party call;

“Mumbo.” Oh, Mumbo has not heard that voice in a long time. Grian sounds less like a squeaker now. The long duration of having not spoken to each other was now extremely evident.

Mumbo forgot to greet back, and he didn’t get a chance to, as Grian spoke up again, “Why exactly did you message me again? Surely it's not to play, not when we could've done this for the past years.”

Mumbo didn’t know what to say for a moment. Would it be too rude to ask Grian about his previous interest in esports? Would that seem like he’s trying to flaunt at him or mock him?

His mouth twitched in hesitation, “Are you… still interested in going professional?”

“...” Grian didn’t reply, and Mumbo somehow felt even more desperate.

“You said you’d catch up.”

“I…” Grian sighed into the mic, seeming a little agitated, “Opportunities don't come as easily for me as it did for you, Mumbo.”

Mumbo furrowed his eyebrows, staring at Grian's little cat icon in disbelief, “...And so you gave up, just like that?”

“It wasn't just like that!” Grian defended. He sounded a little pissed off that Mumbo couldn't help but go quiet. At the silence, Pesky muttered an apology and calmed his tone, “Look, I- I really tried, alright? It was pressuring.”

Mumbo opened his mouth to ask what exactly pressured him but Grian beat him to it as he rambled on, “I lost my everyday duo to some team I couldn't even enter myself. Mum kept urging me to give up and go to college, but–” the voice on the other end cracked slightly but he took a long enough pause to steady himself, “I didn't want to- You, you were waiting, up on those big stages, looking around those stadiums like some lost little dog abandoned by their owner–”

“I was not some lost little dog!” Mumbo squeaked out in embarrassment, wondering if he really looked like that in the game livestreams, “How would you even know I was looking for you?!”

Grian’s smug smile could be heard in his tone, “I didn't say you were looking for me.”

Mumbo went quiet and murmured whinily, “You implied….”

The call was filled with Grian's giggling and Mumbo let himself enjoy the embarrassment for a brief moment before moving the topic along, “Anyway, I did say I was going to disagree to join them, but you urged me to accept it. I said I could've waited until we could sign together–”

“But you like the game, don't you, Mumbo?”

Caught quite off-guard, Mumbo gave his question a thought. He did like the game. Understanding the mechanics and strategy of it is fun. Winning a game was actually exciting since the winning conditions needed good skill and awareness to achieve, but… 

He only ever truly loved playing it because Grian was there. His best friend was a part of everything he loved about the game.

Mumbo was quiet and he couldn't find it in himself to actually admit his true opinions. Grian assumed that he was just embarrassed to admit that he liked the game and decided to move on, “So it was unfair to you. I couldn't drag you down. I know we promised to do it together, but that doesn't have to cost your possible futures.”

Mumbo chewed on his lip and once again quietly asked, “But are you still interested in playing?”

“Mumbo, I never stopped playing despite,” Grian said. An indirect message admitting that; he wants to play. He's always wanted to play. He never once gave up on the dream to. He's just a little late. “I wouldn't have queued with you today if I wasn't.”

Mumbo was hopeful at that admittance and he was quick to say, “Then play for me.”

“What?”

It was Grian's turn to be caught off-guard this time, sputtering in confusion and in disbelief. Mumbo could hear him sit straight on his chair, judging by the squeaking picked up by his mic, “No, that's- You shouldn't be practicing nepotism, Mumbo-”

Mumbo made a noise caught between a whine and a groan, “It's not nepotism if it's the coach's job to assemble a team of good players,” he defended. Grian was in even more disbelief this time as he caught on as to what Mumbo was getting at.

“Coach? What happened to your original team–? They still had you as a substitute…”

“Capt– X paid for the separation fee.”

Grian’s voice raised a little, “Then who and what the hell are you coaching for?”

Mumbo took a deep breath, needing to steady himself to be able to explain to Grian the situation without making it worse, “Look, I know you said you specifically wanted to play for a well-known team and, currently, X's company is just fairly knew–”

“Oh my god…” Grian muttered, his voice was muffled like he was burying his face in his hands. Mumbo ignored him as he continued to explain.

“He invited me to be the main coach, to set up the team to how I see fit since he had trust in the way I was at least aware of what was right, who was capable– Well, not to be blunt, but I have the skills to be able to strategize for an entire time and–”

Grian cut his ramble off, “You… you didn't do all this just for me, did you?”

Yes, I did. 

But, “No,” was what Mumbo said instead. “I still like the game, but I'm still not overly aggressive and competitive enough to be successful as a player, as you know.”

Silence that befell the call after that and it worried Mumbo as he didn't know if Grian could trust that reason. He was just about to continue his little persuasion when he was cut off again.

“I'm joining.”

“Before you– Wait, you are?!”

“Well, someone's gotta make sure you're not making wrong decisions! Who do you think taught you the game?! And you're planning to be the coach!?”

Mumbo couldn't even be sheepish at the underlying tone of being scolded. He was happy enough to hear Grian agree to joining even when doubt was evident in the other’s tone.

He’ll just have to show he’s capable of being Grian’s support, like always.

–

“Grian!” Mumbo had called out excitedly, approaching the man who held such a name. Maybe he was jogging more than politely approaching. Who was to blame him for being excited by the idea of finally meeting his long time online best friend face to face?

Grian’s shoulders jumped in surprise and he couldn't help but turn to look, looking even more stunned as he wasn't given time to react to the sudden hug Mumbo forced him into. His arms couldn’t find where to place itself, eventually relaxing on Mumbo’s back as he hugged back with equal eagerness.

The shorter man couldn’t help but laugh, “You’re surprisingly taller in real life, coach!”

Mumbo froze and pulled away to look at him weirdly, “Already calling me coach?”

“What? Were you actually not planning to sign me?”

Coach Mumbo winced and shook his head panickedly, “Goodness, of course we’re still planning to sign you, it’s just–” he hunched over and pouted a bit, “Isn’t coach a little too formal for us?”

Grian nudged Mumbo playfully, “Get used to it. You wanted this job. Didn’t you, coach?”

Mumbo pouted even more, slightly red in the face, “You don’t find me calling you jungler, do you?”

“I’m not signed yet so you can’t officially call me that yet,” the dirty blonde man then grinned wide, “For now, you can refer to me as darling.”

“Oh, stop it.”

–

Officially signing Grian up as the company’s first player was like a fever dream, even Grian himself would agree, and he’s had plenty of disbelieving things happening to himself. Even now when he was fully acquainted and settled into the residence provided by the team, he couldn’t believe that he was actually… what he dreamed of.

Grian glanced to his side, watching his coach scroll through some gameplay videos for possible teammates. Somehow, it felt right that the online best friend who nerds out about strategies that he can’t apply himself, was the tall man beside him.

Though honestly, Grian still expected Mumbo to be some hunched over nerd like he was. Who knew the man had not only looks and height, he had better posture than Grian.

The dirty blonde slumped in his chair and zoned out as Mumbo started introducing possible teammates, offering him options to form whatever team he wanted.

Grian didn’t listen much, still a little out of it. It is fairly weird that the coach of all people was asking the player who he wanted as teammates when it was supposed to be mainly the coach’s and the management’s job.

“Can I really pick the rest of my teammates?” He cut off Mumbo’s muttering in a familiar manner. Mumbo, as always, didn’t take offense and answered him.

“Of course.”

“And you’d support me?”

They held each other's stare longer than they should've. Mumbo broke into a smile.

“As I always have.”

–

“You’re stressing out Pearl again.”

Grian was half laying on his chair and lazily scrolling through the Grumbo tag on social media when Mumbo had come up to him with an unamused frown. Grian had half the respect for his coach to fix his seating arrangement and sat up properly to flash an innocent smile at Mumbo.

“I don’t seem to follow.”

Mumbo tugged at his hair in distress, familiar with Grian’s pretend dumb strategy. As a coach, you’d think that understanding strategies would be kept to the game, not applied even to his troublesome players.

“Sorry, let me rephrase then. You’re giving both Pearl and the PR team an extremely hard time to defend your honor.”

Grian sighs wistfully, “But you are my honor.”

Mumbo groaned and flushed red at that, “You’ve made that extremely clear with your interview!”

The dirty blonde shrugged and didn’t seem at all unapologetic. Seeing that he was once again going nowhere with attempting to horribly scold Grian, he leaned down and apologetically pecked the man on the forehead. Grian visibly perked up at that and blinked at Mumbo like he was expecting more.

Mumbo didn’t give him more, simply rolled his eyes and turned to leave, “Redo the interview tomorrow and you can negotiate for more.”

“MUUUUUUUUUUMBOOOOOOOOOOO!!!” Grian’s complaints fell to no one’s ears as Mumbo left the training room.

[narfin-frood]

Silly question but how do you art?

Or more like, how is your process to draw? Your lines and posing are so loose and show the feeling of a character so well, like, how do you make your art so real with only a few lines is what most amaze me. Anyway I hope I'm not bothering you and that makes sense, thanks for reading!<3

you're not a bother, don't worry! i'm not sure if there's an appropriately concise answer to a question like this, but i'll try to explain my process for poses a bit, and if there's anything else specific you'd like to know about my process, feel free to ask, and i'll try to answer!

for posing, i find it's very helpful to start by thinking about what situation the character is in. you don't need a location or a background or anything (unless you're being #serious about it). for this, i chose "picking up something way too heavy" (cont. under cut, wall of text ahead)

keeping it very simple is key!!! do not worry about details!!! i am very bad at this. i love to add a little detail or two, like his eyes or his little expression, but i have to catch myself before i get too into it, otherwise i'll forget the point of what i was doing and/or get bored. use just enough strokes to get the point across, and stop there (for now).

i draw fast and loose, with long strokes, which also happens to help with the problem that happens if you start with any specific part of the body. it's important to start with... everything at once, or else you won't be able to see what needs to be changed or fixed until it's too late and you've already decided on where you want the head and the left arm to be!

to display effort & strain without just contorting the character's face, you gotta think about just how heavy the object is, how one would go about grabbing it comfortably, and whether your character is smart enough to lift with their legs.

wander is great (read: BEST CHARACTER DESIGN EVAR. i love him kisskisskiss) because he's not grounded in any sort of reality until necessary, and his limbs have no bones, but he still has specific proportions and volumes to refer back to if you get carried away with the wackiness. posing a character made up of several noodles of varying widths is very simple, because you can do basically whatever you want to push and pull and make it as clear (and/or as funny) as possible.

start with your line of action, in this case the long line connecting his neck and his left foot. think about where the floor is, so you can make the feet of your character and whatever else is touching it coexist in the same reality. think about clarity: big, simple shapes are your friends, and if you're not getting the gist of the pose through the silhouette alone, try again! there's NO shame in hiding the first layer and doing a couple more sketches until you land on something you really like. Don't polish a turd, especially if you yourself think it's a turd. it'll make you feel like you're wasting time, and drawing is about having fun and experimenting, so if it's getting boring or frustrating, it's time to try something else.

wander and other characters with no bones and no rules are great for posing because you can do things like make their arms bend the wrong way just to play with the clarity of the pose. this:

un-breaks the arms and makes a little more sense for somebody with elbows, but some clarity in the action is lost when the arms don't curve upward and away from the very heavy object he's straining to pick up.

grounding your characters is both more complex and easier than it sounds, and it unfortunately requires you to think about perspective (i know. i know. i know it sucks and it's confusing. i hated it for a very long time but once it clicks, you'll have it in your brain forever)

fudging a perspective grid is fairly easy, just draw several parallel lines and have them get closer to each other as they recede into the distance, and then do it again in the opposite direction. you can use the transform tool in whatever program you use most to fudge this for even less effort, by just getting a png of a grid and fucking with it

now that you've got your floor, think about those feet. the grid makes it fairly easy to envision how a shoe would look sitting on that floor:

this is also where having an understanding of volumes comes in handy, because things farther in the distance will in fact look smaller, but it's up to you to figure out just how much smaller it would be in comparison to the other identical thing with the same volume that's closer to the camera. usually it's almost negligible, but it becomes easy to spot if it's a little off.

and here's the pose i settled on! i made his noodle arms more extreme for extra XD factor and i put him on his tippy toes for that extra bit of height!

a lot of the principles i'm talking about in this post i mainly pick up from consciously watching my favorite cartoons (and live action shows) and if i really, really like the way something is done, or if i see something that i've never really registered before, i'll screencap it or i'll pause or i'll just keep thinking about it until i draw again.

this is called "building a visual library" and it's the #1 easiest and most important way to practice. it requires no drawing, unless you want it to. look at lots of art by artists you love, and if you see something and you think to yourself, hey, this looks really good, by all means, absorb it.

art is great and it's really fun and there's literally nothing wrong with taking inspiration where you can find it!! seriously!!! absorb your favorite parts of every art style you find cool and fun and put it into your own! you're the only person who can draw the way you draw, and while replicating an art style is fairly easy (or it can be, depending), matching it perfectly is Literally impossible, so don't worry about being derivative. Nobody will notice, and if they do, it's okay to say you're inspired by them! encouraged, even!

my own art style, like everybody else's, is a frankenstein's monster containing all of the things i've loved before!!! and i think thats beautiful and if anybody tries to tell you you've gotta be 100% original and have "your very own style", they're a filthy liar and they're definitely (consciously or not) already taking inspiration and reference from the things they themselves find cool and awesome.

ANYWAY. wall of text over.

TLDR: draw quickly, use long strokes (try not to pet your lines), have a specific situation to put your character in, get familiar with volumes and proportions, and have fun!!!

[simpforpeterp]

stanford pines x reader

I Believe in a Thing Called Love

summary: on the road trip to bring the kids back to california, you have to keep ford awake!

warnings: none!

word count: 749

After deciding to drive the kids back to California this year for a road trip, Ford was unlucky enough to be picked to drive overnight. Stan, Mabel, and Dipper are asleep in the backseat despite the music you were blaring to keep you awake so you can keep Ford awake.

After all, if you had fallen asleep in the passenger seat, it’d only make Ford more tired. So, you’re night driving buddies. He has a lot of catching up to do music-wise so you’ve been playing your favorite songs going up from each year.

He, to be honest, doesn’t give a shit about the music. He’s not a music person, it takes up too much time and can be distracting. He especially hates when songs are over three minutes because he thinks the singers are being selfish by taking so many minutes of his life.

But watching you while it plays? Singing and having such a great time? His heart could explode any minute now. This thing between you two hasn’t been spoken about yet. It’s only been stolen glances and a silent yearning. Neither of you believe that the other would be interested because of the slight age difference.

Nonetheless, you can flirt with him in very small ways through the songs you play.

“Can't explain all the feelings that you're making me feel. My heart's in overdrive and you're behind the steering wheel,” You place a hand on his arm that gets a smile out of him before you jokingly snake it up to his shoulder. “Touching you, touching me

Touching you, God, you're touching me.”

You sit up straighter for the chorus so happily and in shock that the people asleep in the back are still asleep.

“I believe in a thing called love. Just listen to the rhythm of my heart. There's a chance we could make it now. We'll be rocking 'til the sun goes down. I believe in a thing called love, hoo, ooh-hoo.” You tap along the windows as you sing, the wind moving your hair perfectly.

“He’s not singing, he’s yelling.” Ford tells you through laughter, speaking over the music.

“You totally suck. You’re no fun.” You laugh with him as he slightly turns the volume down.

“You totally suck.” He jokingly mocks your voice and then realizes what just happened. He just acted childish for the first time in decades.

“And what do you listen to?”

“Nothing.”

“Oh, come on. You’re not THAT boring.” You laugh and the sound is music to his ears as you slightly turn your body to face him even more. He desperately tries to keep his eyes on the road but it’s so hard when it comes to you.

“You really don’t listen to anything?” You ask, glancing over at him, curiosity in your eyes and he shrugs, trying to play it off.

“I…never made much time for it,” He admits, his voice soft. “Always had too much on my mind. Music felt like…well, like a distraction.”

“You’re allowed to be distracted every now and then, you know. Life isn’t just about… equations and discoveries and whatever else goes on in that brain of yours,” You shake your head, amused. “I’m distracted ninety percent of the time. Music is rarely the cause. It actually helps me focus sometimes. It drowns out the noises that drive me crazy like if I’m in a library, it feels like my senses are amplified. I hate hearing every push in and out of everyone’s chairs and pens writing, I need my headphones.”

“Maybe so. But I don’t think I’d ever be good at it the way you are.” He hums.

“Good at music?” You laugh, incredulous. “Ford, it’s not about being good at it. It’s about feeling it.”

Ford watches you, captivated. The way you let yourself be so free, so uninhibited—it’s something he envies, a part of life he’s never quite understood but longs to experience.

“I’m not the type of guy to ‘feel’ the sound of a bunch of different instruments.” He chuckles.

“Maybe you’re just lame then.” You gently nudge him.

“Lame? How many degrees do I need to get to not be lame?” He asks.

“Negative ten. You need to loosen up.” You tell him.

“And how do I do that?”

“I don’t know. Listen to some music.” You tell him with a small smile pulling at your lips as you lean on the window and look away.

[decaffeinatedcandycane]

RANDOM Headcanons: Buying make-up shenanigans

Warnings ⚠ none

Includes: Price, Soap, Ghost, Alejandro, Andre, Konig, Gaz, Horangi, Nikolai

Has "can figure everything out" attitude and confidently enters a store just to get lost in it.

Browses for hours, gets mad when he can't decide, then gets distracted by another item. Rinse and repeat.

The cycle continues until he snatches a sales person, or a manager suspects him of stealing, asks tons of questions, ends up buying himself lipgloss (smells like coconut)

There is just too much stuff in the store, it gets him overwhelmed.

Tries to tactically question you about makeup, gives up and snoops through your bags.

Eventually buys some more "stuff" (gets himself different smelling lipbalms and lipglosses) and gets you something you already have.

Admits what he was doing and drags you back to the store with him.

Bonus: The sales people there are sweating upon his arrival. Even the trainee learnt the makeup brands, just by staying next to Price and listening as he asks his question. And he asks, asks questions - even about the ingredients.

Baby boy loves sparkles and the smell of makeup. The salesmen don't like him that much.

He knows what you like, however he is not permitted to shop alone. Why? His toxic trait is that: he buys in bulk.

You learnt that the hard way, after he came home with 27 eyeshadow pallets.

Expiration dates who?

Has a mascara from 7 years ago. Refuses to throw it away. Only does so, after you show him a documentary about eye infection.

Please take a moment to envision how tall and scary he looks in the makeup aisle, standing behind you like a creepy statue, dull on black, with his balaclava. I just giggled.

Insist on paying for everything ( didn't say anything about Price, because there is no insisting - he just pays. Ghost, at least pretends he will let you pay.)

Despises the blackhead mask. Did it once, regretted his life choices.

Experimenting king.

He is the dude who will visit a store, several times, no matter where he is at and buy whatever is new, shiny and cool.

Loves giving you his makeup finds and watching you apply/wear them.

Plays with your brushes a lot. ( They are just so soft and fluffy)

Bonus: Buys skincare for you and the team. Forces his team in spa day retreats.

Definitely knows what to buy.

He knows your makeup, especially if you live together.

Gets lost in the brushes sections and touches everything fluffy. (Don't let him shop with Soap)

Smells everything and if he wants to try something new, buys whatever smells best.

Compares prices online, if a salesperson is mean to him, buys the cheaper stuff and returns back to the store. (Petty boy)

Prefers more matte and glossy options, rather than sparkles.

You already know imma gonna say it. But if you think people get scared of Ghost in a store, you should see them around König.

Can he wear civilian clothes and no mask. Yes. Does he. Sometimes. If he feels like it.

You reassure every sales person that he is with you and he is no a threat.

König in a makeup store is like a kid around new shiny things. Touches everything.

Wants to buy everything.

"No, I don't need this" and "Put it back" are your go to phrases.

Does not enter tight stores after a shelf incident.

If you shop for hours he may make friends with the staff and even help them with the heavy lifting. (lil show-off 👑)

Gets shifty easily, so you better have Horangi nearby or be located near a food court.

Steals shit. Not because he has to, but because he can.

Definitely goes shopping alone, or uses you as a mule for his stolen goods.

Absolute creature when it comes to makeup sponges. Tiny, squishy and come in different shapes and colors.

Has a collection of them.

Sample king (loves free shit, espcially of expensive products), but has a deep appreciation of the tiny samples. Keeps them as another collection.

Lost af

Buys whatever the makeup girl tells him to buy.

He will try to figure out your makeup, after trying solo shopping and will buy some stuff. Not incompetent at all.

Hates the stores. Sales people continuously snuck up on him and talk. Nikolai is not a fan.

Sorry, but he has a special place saved for hatred for every store where he has to socialize.

Has enough opinions on products to need any external ones.

Will buy you makeup as a gift, but that's it.

Don't drag him to a store, ever.

Makeup judge. Buys only brands he trusts and ignores the rest.

Goes with you and glares at the sales people, who try to make you buy more products.

Buys his lipbalm at a grocery store to avoid sales pitches.

Huge on skin care and hair products, which he orders online.

Loves when people stare at you at the store, always puts a hand around your waist. "Yup,she is with me" attitude (one of the main reasons on why he shops with you)

[plagueprince]

Gallows:

[ crota ] - what is your muse’s greatest failure? Gallows, on the surface, believes that he should have gotten what he deserved. Death wasn’t what he deserved, no, but what Corvus had. Attention, praise, love. He thought that if he let the Darkness in, then he could do better. Rise higher than Corvus. Bring back what was taken from him. Of course, it all failed spectacularly. He only hurt the people he so desperately wanted approval from. He failed himself, his Ghost, and Corvus, all by just demanding more than he had. Gallows just wanted more. He always wanted more. More attention. More love. More strength. More power.

[ nezarec ] - what plagues your muse's nightmares? Ice. It is cold and frigid in Gallows’ head. He is forever on Europa. The claw marks that rip the glaciers apart mirror the ones that peel the metal on his face. He walks endlessly, his boots becoming heavier and heavier with frost until he can’t move any more. Standing there, trapped in forever, he looks to the slow white sky and sees the one thing he was moving towards. The edge of a dark horizon, forever swallowing the light.

[ aksis ] - what corrupts your muse, physically or metaphorically? Physically, Stasis, if you want to get technical. Corvus has an injury from when a Stasis shard was embedded and exploded in his chest, an unhealable Darkness scar. He permanently feels cold to the touch because of this. Mentally, guilt. There's so many things he could've done or changed or fixed… but he lives with it. He doesn't let it consume him, per say, but there's reminders. Cold air on the back of his neck. A hand always resting on his knife’s sheath. Looking twice when he thinks he sees a familiar face. Constant flickers in his memory, telling him that nothing will be the same.

Corvus:

[ argos ] - what does your muse use as a shield? anger? agreeability? something else? Violence. It's what Corvus was made to do. His claws, his teeth, his speed and accuracy — all things he was built with, and all things he uses to hide the fact that he is scared to be like everyone else. He doesn't want to feel like people should, he wants to hunt as a Hunter should. But sometimes he hesitates. Sometimes he sees the fear in their eyes before it ends. Sometimes he doesn't pull the trigger.

[ nezarec ] - what plagues your muse's nightmares? Corvus doesn’t sleep, at least not often. His “sleep” is more so a meditative state. He can never fully turn his senses off, so a lot of things still filter through and bother him. If he were to sleep properly, it would not be restful. His nightmares would be so vivid due to his near-perfect memory that he would be afraid to sleep, wanting to avoid reliving bad experiences.

[ riven ] - if your muse could wish for anything, would they? what would it be? what would the consequence of wishing for it be? Corvus would wish to be harmless. He would think it would just change him physically — reform his body to an Exo standard, maybe. This would fall apart fairly quickly, though. His frame would change, yes, but painfully so, his plating warping and breaking to reshape itself into what he thought he wanted. He would then watch as Snipe stuttered in the air, his iris flickering and going dark. The light would be sapped from him as Snipe fell, crashing and splintering into a thousand pieces, like a glass toppled from a countertop. Afterwards he’d be permanently too weak to throw a punch or to hold a gun, and too scared to even try. It’s what he wanted, wasn’t it? To be harmless.

Raid Boss OC Development Questions

Questions for OCs centred around the primary bosses of each raid!

[ atheon ] - if your muse could change anything in their past, what would they change? would they change anything?

[ crota ] - what is your muse's greatest failure?

[ oryx ] - who matters most in your muse's life? does your muse let them know that?

[ aksis ] - what corrupts your muse, physically or metaphorically?

[ calus ] - is your muse a good leader?

[ argos ] - what does your muse use as a shield? anger? agreeability? something else?

[ gahlran ] - what was the first major conflict or event in your muse's life that still sticks with them?

[ val ca'uor ] - when is a moment that your muse has rebelled, whether it be for small reasons, or against something greater?

[ riven ] - if your muse could wish for anything, would they? what would it be? what would the consequence of wishing for it be?

[ insurrection prime ] - does your muse spend much time in the last city?

[ sanctified mind ] - what flower represents your muse best?

[ taniks ] - what is your muse's legacy? what will people remember them for? what do they want to be remembered for?

[ rhulk ] - what, or who, would your muse devote themself to unquestioningly? would they die for that cause, or is there nothing?

[ nezarec ] - what plagues your muse's nightmares?

[ the witness ] - what is one of your muse's main driving forces or beliefs? would anything shatter that belief?

[blodeuweddschild]

Autism moment I wanted to go upstairs and be in bed by 11 but I’ve only just realised it’s 1 in the morning after after getting so absorbed in my work but hey I finished part of it