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guiltyasdave · 6 months ago

Text

just close your eyes

chapter 3 • series masterlist

pairing: Joel Miller x f!reader

summary: An injured Joel and Ellie stumble into your home in the middle of the night. Against your better judgement, you decide to help them.

word count: ~2.2k

tags/warnings: post outbreak, slow burn, found family, age gap (sorry not sorry), able-bodied reader, angst, reader has a sad sad backstory and ptsd, hurt/comfort, fluff, eventual smut, vague description of an injury, implied death of a character, the angst is ANGSTING in this one

a/n: once again, i can't thank that jackson joel pedro photo enough for the inspiration that it's brought me. i hurt my own feelings with this chapter, and truth be told, it's gonna get worse from here.

follow @guiltyasdavenotifs for fic updates and find my full masterlist here :)

dividers as always by the lovely @saradika-graphics 🤍

Over the following days, something of a routine forms between the three of you.

Joel spends most of his time resting, asleep more often than not, the shape of him on your couch a picture that you grow familiar with. But as his fever goes down and the skin around his injury is less red than when you first laid eyes on it, you allow yourself the tentative hope that you might have been able to actually save him.

You’re becoming less skittish around him, getting used to his rather gruff demeanor, slowly realizing that what Ellie said was indeed true, it’s not about you. You come to think he just doesn’t like needing and accepting help.

Ellie follows you around like a puppy, eager to soak up every scrap of knowledge that you can share with her. It’s not much, you think, mostly cooking, the task of turning supplies into various meals, given the limited resources that you have in this world. You like having her around, the almost constant stream of chatter and questions never annoying you.

It fills your usual silence, helps keeping you grounded in the present. Most of the time.

Now that you have company, it becomes painfully obvious to you how much time you spend in your head, just sitting and staring straight ahead, lost in your thoughts, oblivious to the time passing. You have taken to having a book open in your lap, to make it seem like you’re reading, but you find yourself looking down at the page without seeing it, not sure when you last turned it.

It’s not what they would have wanted, you keep telling yourself, trying to shake yourself out of it. Well, it’s not like anything happened the way we wanted, the bitter voice in your head answers.

If Ellie or Joel notice, they don’t ask about it. You hear their voices in the night sometimes, both of them sleeping in your parents’ bedroom now, since the couch was starting to hurt Joel’s back.

You don’t lock your door anymore, leaving it ajar, just like them. The thought of someone else being down here with you is soothing you, the fear of them being a possible threat basically nonexistent at this point. Instead, a different kind of fear sets in.

They haven’t talked about where they are going, but you know that they’re not gonna stay forever. Once Joel is completely healed, and winter has given way to spring, they’ll most likely be off again, leaving you on your own again. You don’t want to grow attached, but it’s difficult not to, while being with other constantly.

You and Joel are taking longer to warm up to each other than you and Ellie have, but you’ve gotten used to having him around you. It’s a quiet, but trustworthy, reassuring thing, his presence in your space. Now that he’s healing, he’s someone who you trust to take responsibility, to take care of things if needed. You’re not sure how you know, but you’re certain that he is.

One evening, Ellie finds the DVD collection that’s stashed away in the cabinet under the small TV in the corner of the room. You hadn’t watched anything in forever, not sure if it’s even still working, but her enthusiasm makes it impossible to turn her down.

Even Joel pipes up at the prospect of a movie night, crouching down next to her to sift through the DVDs. They’re both drawn to the shitty action movies – usually not your preferred taste, but you find the corners of your mouth lifting when they both turn around simultaneously, looking for your approval of their choice.

Joel pushes himself back up with a grunt, pressing the button on the TV and making it spring to life without issue. You settle deeper into the couch cushions, pulling a knitted blanket over yourself as you watch the opening credits play.

It’s so comfortable, so normal, and you want to get lost in the feeling in a way that makes your heart ache. Ellie sits down beside you to share the blanket while Joel stretches his legs out on the other couch. A smile is tugging at his lips when he catches you looking at him, but it can’t hide the wariness in his eyes, mirroring your own. It’s the feeling of things being too good to be true, the fear of nothing good ever lasting, of the world crashing down around you again, that always accompanies you, and without asking, you know that he feels it too. You cast your eyes back to the screen, trying hard not to get yourself lost in the fear, but to enjoy the moments of peace while they last.

Ellie loves the movie, her eyes wide at every action-packed sequence, gasping at every explosion. At one of the more absurd scenes, you can’t contain the burst of laughter that bubbles up your throat. You’re unexpectedly joined by the deeper rumble of Joel’s, a sound that you haven’t heard before.

You glance at him, to find his eyes already on you, an emotion in them that you can’t place. Neither of you say a word, both quietly returning your eyes to the TV.

When you’re lying in bed later that night, you still feel the smile on your face.

While your closeness with Ellie came quickly, almost taking you by storm, it’s a quiet, slowly growing thing with Joel.

It begins with him lingering in the kitchen when you’re preparing the morning coffee, asking you questions about the place, about keeping supplies, electricity, the safety measures. He helps you with cooking, grumbling about giving something back when you protest.

He’s gruff, no comparison to Ellie’s lively chatter and endless questions, and it makes you nervous at first. But you get used to him, his more quiet demeanor, his dry humor. You can tell that he’s trying hard not to scare you again, avoiding sudden movements or getting loud, and while you appreciate it, you also can’t help but wonder how broken you must seem from the outside.

He doesn’t ask prying questions about your past, how you’ve come to live here all alone, though you have to imagine that he’s curious. You don’t ask him about his either, even if you do wonder how he and Ellie ended up together. It’s a quiet mutual understanding and you’re grateful for it.

You have to believe that he had his fair share of loss in his own life, that the both of them had; an inescapable reality at this point in the world’s history.

It’s like a silent camaraderie when he catches your eye as Ellie is reading out puns to the both of you once more, rolls his eyes in a way that still holds so much love for the girl next to you, but that fills you with the urge to giggle. It stops you in your tracks the first time it happens, the sensation so unfamiliar to you that you can’t place it for a second.

When you smile at him, the corners of his mouth rise ever so slightly as well, before he huffs an exaggerated sigh at the joke that you just heard. It riles Ellie up, just like he wanted to, you suspect. But you block out her bickering at him, busy with your own thoughts. One thought in particular, one that you haven’t had about anyone since you were a teenager.

Joel is kind of pretty when he smiles.

The both of them have also taken to working their way through the bookshelf that’s taking up most of one of the walls. It’s mostly guidebooks on hunting, gardening, self defense, anything that your father deemed possibly useful. Over time, you had added books from your old bedroom, the one upstairs, that you had hastily carried down the stairs, hoping for the familiar words to give you a sense of normalcy in a world where nothing was normal anymore.

Joel sometimes talks to you about them, asking your opinion on which ones to read, discussing their contents with you. Over time, you realize that he does it when you’re zoning out, pulling you back into reality with the drawl of his low voice next to you. You’re thankful for it, not used to being cared for like this, but also mortified that as it seems, he does notice when you’re too deep inside your head.

It’s one of those afternoons, you’re just about to start preparing dinner, when Ellie asks if you have more books somewhere, about something cool. “Like what?” you reply, an easy smile on your face.

“I don’t know,” she shrugs, “like comics, maybe? Ohh, or something about space?”

It takes a moment before the words register, before they form a picture in your mind, the memory of exactly what she’s asking for. You stop in your tracks, frozen on your way to the kitchen. Your toes dig into the carpet beneath your bare feet. A faint trembling starts in your hands and slowly spreads through your body.

Ellie says your name, an edge in her voice. You’re not sure what your face looks like.

Your wide eyes find hers, looking up at you from where she was spread out on the floor, her hair splaying out over the scratchy rug, one of your books held over her head. You had joked about how that position couldn’t be comfortable a few minutes ago.

You see Joel from the corner of your eye, slowly raising to his feet from the couch cushions. It feels like you can’t breathe, like you’re sucking in air but it doesn’t reach your lungs.

A large, warm hand lands on your shoulder, making you jump. Joel rubs soothing circles over your back, your name a low rumble on his lips.

“It’s– it’s not a problem if not,” Ellie murmurs, sitting up slowly, her eyes flicking between you and Joel, uncertainty written over her features.

You force a shuddering breath in, using the sensation of Joel’s hand splayed over your back to ground yourself. Nodding your head, you will your voice to travel up your throat.

“Yeah no, I– just a second.”

Joel repeats your name, more questioning this time, but you ignore it, feet carrying you into the bathroom where you quickly shut the door behind you. Skin stretching over your knuckles, you stand over the sink, gripping its edges to stay upright.

It’s what he would have wanted. He would have been so happy to share them. It’s true, you know what.

You’re not sure what’s worse. Going in there yourself, crossing the threshold of a room that you haven’t entered in years, haven’t even opened the door to, or letting someone else do it, let them disturb the memory of a reality that you’ve tried to preserve in there. Too painful to touch, but too important to let go of.

Steeling yourself, you return to the living area. Ellie and Joel are sitting close to each other, both of their heads flying up at the door opening. It’s obvious that they have been talking about you. You bite your lip.

Ellie rises to her feet slowly, takes a tentative step toward you. “Listen, it’s not that important really–” She sounds like she’s talking to a skittish animal.

You shake your head, not trusting your voice not to betray you. With a deep breath, you cross the room to the door beside yours. One of two that you keep firmly closed.

It creaks on its hinges when you open it slowly, your hand shaking on the handle. You try not to look around, to keep your eyes closed to the truth that nothing changed in here, and yet everything changed. It’s stuffy, stagnant air that’s been untouched for too long, but it smells like him. Like he’s still here with you.

You don’t see the unmade bed, still carrying the trace of the last time he got up, the stuffed lion beside the pillow. Don’t see the half finished drawings on the desk, or the mess of action figures in the corner. You grab the stack of comics from the nightstand, ignoring the way your vision blurs at the edges. Move on to the shelf, smaller than the one in the living room, blindly picking out random books.

When you step out of the bedroom, quickly pulling the door shut behind you again, neither Joel or Ellie have moved. You can’t meet either one’s gaze, don’t want to see the expression in their eyes.

Ellie takes the stack of books from your outstretched hands, murmuring a thanks, and you sense that there are more words on the tip of her tongue. Questions, apologies, you don’t know and you don’t want to.

Turning on your heels, you escape into your own room, closing the door as quickly as you can before you collapse on your bed. Tears flood your eyes in time with the memories flooding your head, threatening to pull you under and drown you under their waves.

You hear their muffled voices through the door, but neither of them comes to disturb you. You’re thankful for it, not needing anyone to witness you in this state. Eventually, you drift off into sleep, your mind gladly giving way to unconsciousness.

The following night is the first time that Joel has to shake you awake from a nightmare.

thank you for reading 🤍 if you liked this, please consider reblogging, leaving a comment or sending an ask, it truly makes my day every single time!

#pedro pascal #joel miller x reader #joel miller #the last of us #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller x you #joel miller x f!reader #joel miller x female reader #pedrostories #janas fics #fic: safe and sound

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autumnywinter · 6 months ago

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Your Yan!Elliott posts are endlessly fascinating to me. I propose an idea for you if you are up for it: Yan!Elliott finally has his prize all to himself, only to learn he's simply done the job for them. He's not the only obsessed one. He's not got his prize caged up. No no. He's caged with them. Wasn't it always rather odd that his target of infatuation quickly learned everything about him, his schedules, his interests, his favorite foods? Did he ever even notice? (Based a little on the fact that--let's be real--we players are the weird ones)

Omg thank you! :) And true, I would 100% be considered the creep if my farmer's behavior imitated my own irl behavior haha T_T

I made Reader a lot more smug than I normally do. I hope this is good!!

Yandere!Elliott x Reader

Tags/warnings: Suggestive, drugging, mentioned stalking, dubcon (kinda but not really), yandere x yandere, gender neutral reader

Sometimes Elliott felt like he didn't even need to stalk you around the town. He'd walk out of his cabin, camera, binoculars, and caffeine gathered for a stakeout, only for you to be waiting outside with a smile on your face. That same smile that made him feel like he was soaring.

Not only that, but you knew just what he liked. Granted, he'd like anything if it were from you, but he had a whole year's supply worth of pomegranates and ink stocked up in his cabin.

He didn't even want to put either to use, treasuring each item you gave him like a rare gem. He did eventually crack and eat the pomegranates though. He was only human, after all!

There was no doubting it. You were perfect.

Each time he'd write lengthy letters to you, all from your "secret admirer", he'd watch your expressions. You always looked delighted to have received a letter. Though you never once attempted to find out who was sending you them. Elliott wondered if maybe you already knew, but never wanted to get his hopes up.

He made sure to describe how stunning you were in every letter he wrote. It was important for you to know how perfect you were. So perfect, that you didn't deserve to be around anyone else. No one would ever love you as much as Elliott did.

Despite the countless gifts he had received from you, despite you seeming to know his schedule down to a T, he was still determined he needed to win your affection over. All because he needed more.

He needed to hold you. He needed to taste you. He needed to marry you. He needed you.

"Hey, Elliott!"

The writer turned opened his door, delighted to see you. It was a rainy day, which was when he always stayed inside, save for stalking you at specific hours. You'd usually visit him on rainy days, and naturally he'd always be quick to invite you in. He knew you were likely coming over, which was why he already had a nice dinner prepared and everything.

"Come in, please," he said, holding the door open. You hurried inside and removed your wet raincoat, hanging it on the coat rack. Elliott headed straight for the kitchen, where he dished out the dinner he had prepared, along with the spiked wine.

He didn't have any awful intentions, of course! He just... wanted you to himself for a little longer than you normally stayed. That wasn't so wrong, was it? He wanted to savor this.

Besides, it wasn't like it was the first time he had done this.

"How are you?" he asked, sitting down at the table across from you. He waited eagerly for you to take a sip of the wine.

"I'm okay," you replied, giving him a smile that made his heart melt. "Just exhausted. I spent all day working."

He knew. He watched you.

"Then let me give you a nice relaxing time," he suggested, making sure to sound polite as he could. "Drink some more wine. Tell me all about your day." He didn't even realize his lovesick smile listening to you talk. He was excited for you to become sleepy and less aware of your surroundings. Then he could hold you and kiss you and you wouldn't even remember a thing the next morning.

It was honestly the only thing keeping him from going insane. He could be creepy as he wanted with you and you wouldn't even care. Although he'd use the term "romantic" instead.

After he nearly finished his own drink, he noticed his mind becoming hazy. He was a bit of a lightweight, he'd admit, but it took more than one glass to get him feeling like this. He tried to blink the dizziness from his own eyes, and could make out your eyes on him and a smirk on your face.

"Oh no, are you okay? You don't look so good," you feigned innocence. Even through his hazy state, Elliott could hear the smug grin in your voice.

"D-Did... did you...? Are you...?" He couldn't form a coherent sentence.

"Yep," you confirmed. "You've done it to me several times now, figured I'd return the favor. It's only fair, right?"

He should have been angry or upset about this, but he wasn't. Instead, his cheeks turned bright red as he stared at you in a dumbfounded awe. He didn't know what he was feeling right now, but it definitely wasn't anger. Arousal, anticipation, delight... maybe a mixture of all three.

"To be fair," you continued, "I never was really drugged. Just pretended to be, because I wanted to see what you would do." His breath hitched when you straddled his lap, holding his tie in your hand. "Just to see how far you'd take things."

"Y-You..." He never thought he'd see the day where his words failed him. But how was he supposed to speak when you were on his lap looking so delectable? He subconsciously licked his lips as he drank in every detail of your body. The way your chest rose and fell, your breaths as heavy as his, your eyes clouded with lust. He could only imagine how much of a fool he looked right now.

"Did you really think I wouldn't notice?" Your voice was soft, sweet. "Did you think I'd never find out?"

Elliott paused for a moment before chuckling. He rested his hands on your thighs and massaged them gently. "You know me too well, darling." He placed a gentle kiss to your throat. "How did you know?"

"How did I know you were spiking my drinks?" You giggled and kissed his ear. "Because you're not subtle at all." You licked a stripe down his neck, enjoying the shivers you felt from him. "And because I want you just as much as you want me."

He placed his forehead against yours and let out a shaky sigh. "I... I'm very relieved to hear that." He didn't even bother to hide his erection pressing against you. "If I could, I'd tell you just how much I adore you. But..." He trailed off, growing more deadweight. His head fell forward against your chest as he struggled to keep his eyes open. "I love you. I love you so much."

You rolled your eyes at how dramatic he was being. "You'll be fine, love," you whispered. "And I love you, too."

Despite Elliott falling limp into your arms, he refused to loosen his grip on you the entire night. Or the morning to come.

#answered ask #yandere #stardew valley #yandere elliott #elliott sdv #sdv elliott #yandere stardew valley #sdv #x reader #yandere x reader #yandere boyfriend #yandere male #yandere x yandere #gn reader

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notjustjavierpena · 1 year ago

Text

Reunion - Part I: Tonight

Series Masterpost | Main Masterpost | Support a disabled creator

A/N: I have wanted to post this for a week now, expanding the dbf-universe a little more than it just being smut. It’s cliché-filled and lovely, and I sincerely hope you enjoy it.

Summary: You're flying back to visit your parents (it’s Joel, you’re actually home for) after a month at college.

Pairing: Joel Miller x f!reader/you (no y/n)

Tags: +18 smut, dad’s best friend joel miller, daddy kink, sooooo much longing and love and fluff and teasing, Joel gets a blowjob, pet names, PIV sex, rough sex, dirty talk, cuddles, reader’s dad is oblivious

Word count: 6.3k

Link to this work on AO3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/49869355/chapters/125892244

Tonight

You feel giddy as you walk through the airport with your headphones on, your bag slung over your shoulder, and with a bounce in your step. Your feet’s movements have automatically adjusted to the beat of the song that’s playing in your ears, setting a late-summer soundtrack to your life as unimportant faces pass.

It’s sunny and warm inside the glass building, and whilst you cannot wait to get outside into the colder weather, it’s actually because of your father’s work emergency that you are excited; Joel is picking you up instead.

Joel at 11:06 a.m.: I can’t wait to see you. -JM

Your eyes roam over the screen of your phone whilst you pass through the crowd, smiling in a way that would make your parents ask why. Who knew that Joel Miller could make you feel like summer was still at its peak?

“There you are,” Joel says when you find his car in the enormous parking lot. He is leaning against the side of the vehicle, and you approach him whilst taking off your earphones to let them hang around your neck.

When you are less than twenty feet from him, you stop walking and run the rest of the way. You close the distance between you by throwing your arms around him in a tight hug, a happy squeak leaving your mouth. He lets out an ompf-sound but embraces you when the car saves him from falling backward.

“Hey,” he says into your hair, noticing the volume of your music when he can hear it play through the speakers, “You hate your ears?”

You are too busy breathing him in, head swimming from the very first inhale of his cologne, “Hm?”

“Turn that music down,” he tells you.

“God, stop sounding like my dad,” you groan and step back from him to do as you are told, “Fucking boner killer.”

“Don’t swear at me,” he warns but his tone tells you that the way he rolls his eyes at you afterward is more playful than impatient. He holds out his hand, “Bag.”

You stuff your headphones into the bag before giving it to Joel and watch him throw it into the backseat before circling the truck to hold the passenger door open for you. It feels stupid when your heart flutters at the sight of both of your bags lying side by side.

“Thank you,” you smile politely as you crawl into the car, “Even if you just hurled my possessions into the car.”

“Brat.”

You ogle him in the few moments it takes him to walk around the front of the car. He wears a green flannel shirt over one of his usual t-shirts, chest threatening to pop the buttons with how tight it is across his broad frame. A part of you hopes that he has dressed up for you, and the image of him fussing over his appearance in the mirror before leaving to pick you up is enough to make you smile goofily to yourself.

“What?” He asks when he finally sits beside you, turning the key in the ignition. The truck comes alive.

“Nothing,” you shrug, but then lean across the console center of the car. You reach up to cup his cheek and turn his head towards you, “You just look very handsome today.”

Then you kiss him softly on the mouth, seeking him out in the way that only you are allowed. He turns his body towards you, slides a hand around your back, and rests the other on the back of your neck.

“Mhm, and you’re lookin’ pretty, princess,” he hums against your mouth.

You kiss for a while, intimate and soft. When you try to move closer and escalate things by nearly crawling into his lap, he grips the hair at the back of your neck and holds you in place.

“No,” he tells you and you whine in response.

The hand you have on his cheek slips down to rest on his shoulder, but only so you can reach down on his back and scratch affectionately between his shoulder blades, “Please. It’s been forever, and— and I’m getting wet just thinking about it.”

Joel’s jaw tightens as he restrains himself. He shakes his head, eyes only going down between your legs very briefly, “Promised your old man to feed you on the way back since he ain’t at home, and your mom’s gone out with her colleagues. Plus there’s no way I’m screwin' a girl twenty years my junior in my car… in a public place. Don’t care how busy it is here.”

You slip from his grasp and sit back into the passenger seat with a huff. Out of the corner of your eye, you see him adjust himself in his washed-out jeans, “When then?”

“Tonight,” he promises as he pulls out of the parking space, “Think of how good it’ll be after bein' worked up all day.”

“If you can wait that long,” you sigh dramatically.

Joel scoffs and then starts to drive. Your clit throbs during the whole duration of the car ride.

He eventually pulls into an IHOP parking lot after you’ve begged him since seeing the billboard a few miles earlier. It is better than one of the roadside diners and more crowded too which gives you a greater sense of privacy.

You step out of the car, immediately met with the smell of sugary fried food. It makes your stomach growl, but still, and you’ll admit it, you are more excited to see what feast Joel will choose than you are about eating pancakes for lunch.

“C’mon,” he says as you lose yourself to basking in the sunlight and listening to the cars driving by on the highway.

“Lemme just get my wallet.”

Joel makes a sound of disapproval, “Food’s on me. Get your ass in there.”

The restaurant looks less rundown than you’d expected, and the sweetness in the air hits you like a brick wall as soon as you step over the threshold of the entrance. People are chatting loudly whilst eating breakfast foods, somewhere a baby cries and you have to actively search for a free table.

You walk across the tiled floor which is meant to look like wooden boards, not able to see Joel but feeling his presence a few steps behind you. When someone walks in front of you, you hear him grumble and feel his hand on the small of your back. Your head swims, your stomach swirling at the warmth of his touch.

Unsurprisingly, this means that it ends up being him who finds an unoccupied corner for you, one that doesn’t have anything sticky on the blue cushions of the booth. He offers you the booth and takes the chair on the opposite side.

You pick up the laminated paper menu from in front of you, studying it intensely. In the many years that you have known Joel, you have never actually been out with him where it’s just been the two of you because why would you? It makes butterflies fly around in your belly, fighting their way out until they are everywhere in your body. Especially between your legs when you see him scratch his beard whilst also looking for something to eat.

“This is our first date, you know,” you note and see Joel tense a little. You try to sound cool and indifferent whilst hiding behind the menu, “Are you nervous?”

“I’m usually always a lil’ nervous when I’m with a pretty girl,” he replies nonchalantly too, “But actually no. Even if she’s the prettiest girl I ever saw.”

You dare not open your mouth at that, scared that the butterflies might actually escape your body at this point and fly off into the air. You are hot in the face, resting the menu against your forehead to hide your face from him, “Shut up.”

“You started it.”

You peek over the top and are just about to say something when—

“Hi and welcome to IHOP!” A way too cheerful voice says and interrupts the tender moment. You slam the menu into the table a little too hard.

Both of you stare at the waitress, but Joel looks more like he has been offended by her bubbly attitude. She has a heavy southern twang. vibrant red lipstick and thick-framed glasses that suggest that she’s trying to go for something vintage and modern at the same time, “What can I getcha?”

Joel mumbles something about bacon and eggs along with the blackest coffee they have. The woman scribbles erratically on her notepad whilst complimenting his choice.

“And for your daughter?” She continues. Joel looks horrified, and you try to hide your giggle.

“I’ll take your cupcake pancakes, please. And a strawberry shake,” you reply, “And hash browns for me and my dad to share.”

“Alrighty!” The waitress concludes, collects the menus, and turns to Joel, “And for you, I’ll be right there with your coffee, sir.”

Joel kicks you under the table as soon as she has left. You stick out your tongue at him, but he fixes you with a stern look, “Don’t fuckin’ do that.”

“Why? It’s just a joke,” you shrug and lean back into the booth, “Not like anyone knows us here.”

It’s then that you realize that it probably has more to do with him than you; Joel probably feels like the comment was a slap in the face and a way of illustrating how fucked-up his relationship with you is. You find that you don’t actually care if the relationship is known to the whole IHOP, but with the way that Joel is looking away, you don’t dare to lean over and kiss his lips.

“Hey,” your voice is gentle as you place your hand on the table, palm facing up, “I’m sorry. I won’t do it again.”

Joel curls his own hand around yours but still doesn’t say anything. His eyes are focused somewhere else as if he doesn’t dare to look back at you. You don’t think you dare see the wounded look on his face.

“This isn’t just fun ‘n games to me, you know. I mean, it may have started like that, but over the summer…” you try to fill the silence, background chatter fading from your ears as your pulse picks up, “I do mean it when I say I mi—“

“Stop,” he warns, eyes snapping back to yours and stealing your breath for a second, “We ain’t talking about that in a goddamn IHOP.”

“I feel like there’s no better place to do it,” you retort but he just shakes his head with a mix between a chuckle and a scoff.

“Tonight,” he says just like earlier.

When the food arrives, you eat in comfortable silence for the most part, and the conversation revolves around mundane things such as how you find the start of the semester and what projects he has coming up at work.

You barely give him reason to tut at you. You play nice and sweet, and make him laugh genuinely so you can admire the tiny lines around his eyes. He only makes a parental comment when you start to wolf down the plate of hash browns, and you respond by stuffing the last one into his mouth. It earns you a laugh that nearly sets your heart on fire with how rapidly it ticks.

He drives you all the way home afterward, and you dare to steal a kiss from him before exiting the car. You’ll be around later, you say, and he suggests picking you up, but you tell him you'd rather just take your bike and save him the gas money. He somewhat accepts.

When you step inside your childhood home, you lean against the door with a giggle. Your cheeks burn as you cup them, staying like that for a minute whilst you try to calm your pounding heart. You run your fingers up and through your hair while sighing, “Shit.”

You think back to the first time Joel had fucked you in your bedroom. It had been rushed, intense, and frankly terrifying, but then it’d been good. More than good. The greatest, actually. It had opened something up inside your chest, provoked something between your thighs that you didn’t know existed. In return, Joel has become more gentle with you, softened under your touch every time you are together. You wonder if…

He still yanks your hair, reprimands you, and practically makes you feel like you’re on fire when he touches your pussy like no one has ever done before, but you could swear that he kisses you like you’re more than just fun.

You distract yourself with a shower, find yourself dipping the shower head between your legs for just a moment before shaking the thought. You’ll get what you want soon enough, no need to fantasize. Instead, you do the mind-numbing task of shaving your legs.

Just before leaving for Joel’s, already sitting on your bike, you shoot your father a text.

You at 6:55 p.m.: House is empty. Going out.

Dad at 7:15 p.m.: I’ll be home in 2-3 hours. Did you eat dinner? -Dad

You at 7:17 p.m.: Yep, see u tomorrow :)

And then you start pedaling.

Joel opens his door with a smirk, grabbing your wrist and pulling you inside his home after making sure that no one is watching. You didn’t even know that you could pine for someone you already have. Yet here he is looking young, beautiful, and full of life when he is sneaking around with you, and you want him to kiss you silly.

He reads your mind, closes the door quickly afterward, and doesn’t hesitate. He kisses your giggling mouth with the determination to follow up on your make-out session in the truck earlier. He has his arms around you, pushes you gently against the front door, and practically eats at your open mouth. It makes you sigh softly, your heartbeat racing and your skin prickling with electric excitement.

“I’ve missed you,” you confess when you pull away from his lips to go down his neck with the same enthusiasm as a puppy who hasn’t seen their human in forever. Usually, Joel is the one who is eager to move on with less innocent things, but you have been in his company half the day without permission to touch him like this, so you are starving for him.

“We saw each other a few hours ago,” he argues, relaxing his grip on you as your tongue goes over a certain spot that has the ability to bring him to his knees. He groans quietly over your shoulder.

“Wanna suck you off,” you whisper in his ear then descend to your knees right on his scratchy doormat. He rests his hand on your head and runs it over your hair with the gentleness of someone who has nothing to prove, shakes his head at your suggestion that’s hardly a suggestion.

“Not here, your knees gonna hurt,” he insists.

“Don’t care,” you say and mean it; you’ll take the rug burn. You don’t stop your hands from unbuckling his belt, looking up at him through your lashes with a devious smile on your face. He strains, half-hard, against the zipper, and when you pull it down he seems to give in completely.

You yank his jeans down over his hips, and he starts helping you by stepping out of them until they lay forgotten on the floor behind you. As soon as you lay eyes on the outline of his cock, you run your palm over it from tip to base. A wet patch is already threatening to form on the front of his boxers with your simple touch, his length coming to full size as he swells completely underneath your hand. You can see the head starting to poke out from underneath the waistband, so you take pity on him and yank his underwear all the way down as well. They pool around his ankles until they end up in the same pile as Joel’s jeans.

Your mouth is salivating at the sight of him fully hard after a good month without him. Joel is shaking in anticipation, his usual calm and collected facade crumbling.

You waste no time; your hand wraps around the base of Joel’s cock to guide the head to your mouth. The ache to taste him has settled between your legs, clit twitching as you let out the flat of your tongue, curling it around the underside of the head to lick along the frenulum. Your eyes nearly roll back into your skull, and Joel seems to enjoy it because you hear his head bump against the door.

He moans and shudders above you, but he doesn’t yank at your hair like most stupid college boys would already have done because they’ve seen it on the internet. He takes his time with it, instead spreads his fingers over your scalp, scratches, and lets you move freely, “Ohh, you’ve been hungry for it, haven’t ya?”

You smile up at him, nod eagerly to earn praise, and then lick along the underside of the head again. You catch a droplet of precome with the tip of your tongue as you reach the slit, tasting the slight bitterness on him with a hum before repeating the move.

“Mhmmm, that’s it, good girl,” he says breathily.

When you want to tease him a little more, you move to nose along the shaft until you can press a wet kiss by the base. He twitches a little in your fist. You start planting open-mouthed kisses all the way up to the head again, stroking him a few times after getting to the tip.

Your free hand skims up underneath his t-shirt, over the trail of hair that you sometimes bury your nose in whether it be during this sort of thing or just when you feel extra cuddly, mirroring the hand on your head and splaying across his soft stomach. Your nails scratch too, affectionately almost, and then you prepare yourself to take him into your mouth.

Joel looks down as you stop, but groans as he sees you let a good amount of spit gather in your mouth. You let it drip down over the head. His stomach jumps underneath your palm, “Fuck, you are trouble, ain’t ya? Can’t wait to see that pretty mouth around my dick.”

You hum. A few kisses to the head, and then you slide your lips down over him. It is quite the stretch to fit him as far inside as you want in this insatiable state, but you are satisfied with your work when he chokes out a noise that you only thought you were capable of making. That weak croak is worth the ache that will eventually overtake your jaw.

Joel bucks his hips as soon as you encase him in the heat of your mouth. The fat head stabs at the back of your throat, causing you to gag and clench around him but he seems too far gone to even register its doing on you. You let him do it again, blinking rapidly to stop tears from spilling down your cheeks.

Instinctively, his free hand wraps around the wrist of the hand you have on his stomach. He groans as you bob your head and make tiny noises that sometimes develop into wet gagging.

When Joel’s hips start to move, you begin to feel the doormat underneath your jean-clad knees. He isn’t being particularly rough with you, but it’s his size that makes the tears, that you’ve blinked away successfully so far, spill from the corners of your eyes. He is so big, hot, and heavy on your tongue, and filling your belly with the sweetest ache for him to wear you out tonight.

The other hand finally grips tightly, pulling your hair into a makeshift ponytail. You whimper as he tugs, fucking you onto his cock, and he nearly loses his mind as your throat squeezes around him with the sound.

“Filthy, filthy girl,” he scorns as spit starts to dribble down your chin, continuous wet noises bouncing off the walls of the living room, “God… You’re gonna make me come down ya tight throat.”

Perhaps after he has fucked you, you think, and then barely shake your head. Joel notices though, slows down as he gets too close, dick twitching inside your mouth before he, albeit reluctantly, draws back out. His breathing is ragged, trying his hardest to calm down and stop himself from teetering around the edge.

You swallow down the remainder of spit in your mouth and pull your hand out of Joel’s grip to wipe the back of it over your soaked chin, shiny with saliva and tears. Your eyes are red, your lips puffy, and your hair a mess. Your jaw hurts from the strain on it but despite this, it hurts more between your legs by now; the throbbing sensation has started to become uncomfortable, your clit desperate for friction and your cunt feeling so empty that it clenches again and again. You need to be filled right now, think you might die if he doesn’t shove his cock in you soon.

“Need you,” you say to break the silence and start to get up on your feet again. You want to cling to him, shed him of the rest of his clothes, and crawl under his skin to live there. You almost sob, “So bad, Daddy. Please please please.”

“Shh…” he coos, toeing off his socks and reaching for the hem of his shirt. He pulls it over his head, revealing his beautiful tan skin and the faint amount of hair on his chest. You reach out to run your nails through it, but he grabs both your wrists and starts taking off your top instead.

“Let me touch you,” you whine but still let him undress you slowly, piece by piece of clothing ending up in the same spot on the floor.

“Y’just touched me,” he says simply, reaching around you to undo your bra. He slides the straps down your arms, the cool air of the room hitting your chest and making your nipples harden. He hums in approval, “So fuckin’ pretty. Been too long.”

He cups your tits, pushes them together, drags his thumbs over your taut nipples, and then lets go when you’re just about to let out a moan. He looks as starved as you and he satisfies his hunger by kissing you with bruising force, his chest against yours to feel your breasts press against himself.

You hoist yourself up and wrap your legs around his waist, his thick cock trapped between your stomachs. He groans at the friction with each step he takes towards the couch and you kiss the noise right off his tongue, sucking at the tip as a reminder of what you have done minutes earlier.

When he reaches the destination, he drops you down onto the leather. Then he leans over you, one knee beside you to reach for the curtains to close them, and you almost give in to the urge of sucking him off again because he is so close. He seems to notice.

“Sit back, panties off,” he orders whilst making sure there are no gaps that anyone can peek inside of.

You follow orders so quickly. He takes no time to tease either, sinks to his knees, yanks your ass further to the edge, and parts your legs until he can get in between them. Your hands rest on the back of your thighs, holding yourself open for him as he guides his cockhead inside of you.

The slight breach makes your breath hitch in your throat until it comes out in a wanton whine, walls already trying to pull him In further. Joel joins you with a guttural groan, staring down at your stretching cunt as he feeds it inch after inch. Usually, there’s some resistance, a pinch, but he bottoms out inside of you so quickly now that you’ve been wet since you saw him before lunch.

You throw your head back against the back of the couch and let him have his way with you, feel him repeatedly pull out almost all the way until he slams right back in and sets a desperate pace. His hand rests on your mound so his thumb can circle your swollen clit, and you don’t think you’ve ever felt so fucked out in mere minutes.

Your breath catches, your pulse quickens, the first time he slides over your g-spot which he immediately notices with the way your pussy clenches in surprise pleasure. It makes him repeat the move, tilting his hips to ensure he won’t miss it with every crash of his pelvis into yours.

“Don’t stop, ah-ah! Joel!” You practically yell for him, digging your nails into the plump flesh of your thighs and triggering a growl from him. He cants his hips again so he can move forward and lean into you, still rubbing your clit with his thumb, but now also losing himself in a kiss that’s surprisingly soft compared to the crushing force of his thrusts.

When he pulls back, his body needing the air through his mouth again if he is to continue fucking you like this, he rests his forehead against yours. His breaths are damp and exchanging with your own. Your eyes meet in a fiery gaze as filth starts pouring from his mouth.

“I’mma fuckin’ wear this pussy out tonight, princess,” he tells you with a moan, speeding up the taut circles on your throbbing clit as if to make a demonstration of his next promise, “Make you come and come and - shit, that’s good - fuckin’ wring them out of you.”

“Yes, Daddy, I’m gonna come right now,” your voice is frantic and your toes are starting to curl.

“Fuck yes, you are, can feel it,” he pants, “Right on Daddy’s cock, just like he wants it.”

You come undone under his intense gaze with an orgasm that knocks the wind out of your chest to the point where your voice disappears, the only evidence remaining being the furrow of your brow and the open-mouthed yet silent ah. Joel can see it, sense it.

When you come back to earth, greediness bubbles up in your chest. Despite your voice still being caught in your throat, you manage to croak out a wish, “Wanna get on top. Not finished.”

“Fuckin’ hell,” Joel groans in unison with you as he pulls out of your oversensitive cunt. It doesn’t take long to switch positions, and with a steady grip on the backrest of the couch, you drag your wet heat across Joel’s painfully hard dick. It twitches against your cunt, and he whines when he holds it steady for you to sink down onto.

He fills you differently like this, goes deeper, and feels impossibly bigger. You give an experimental roll of your hips and Joel’s hands fly to your hips, his head falling backward and his body slumping into the seat.

Your initial pace is slow but you want to move faster, yet your body is held in place by Joel’s hands having slid up to hold around your waist. He sets the pace just like before, pushing a little on your back to arch it just how you like to do it yourself. The tip of his cock pokes into your front wall, and the slow sensation of getting it to slide over your g-spot has you thrashing in his lap.

“Need ya to come without me touchin’ your pretty little clit,” he begs without saying please and then slides his thumbs down to rest below your belly button, “Missed it so much, couldn’t stop thinkin’ about it.”

He presses the two digits into your flesh, adding the amount of pressure that he has found out is just right by playing with you for hours during the summer. You keen, head lolling to the side and your jaw going slack, “Just like that, Daddy. I’m gonna come if you keep going like that!”

He allows you to ride him in earnest after that, bouncing in his lap and causing the front of his thighs to slap noisily up into your ass. Your whole body trembles at the force, building the pressure that you’ve come to know so well after Joel pulled himself together to fuck you that one day.

“Fuck, you givin’ me another one already? Lucky Daddy,” he growls, still denting your belly with his thumbs. Your pulse is so incredibly fast, and your breaths are nothing but squeaks.

You let out a high-pitched sound as your orgasm rolls through your body, electricity spreading out from your cunt to make your chest blush. You clamp down rhythmically on Joel’s cock and he nearly slides down onto the floor with the way that he melts under you. The thick head continues to ram into your g-spot to keep the second high going for as long as your body will allow, but whereas your voice was gone earlier, you force out a request.

With your hips not stilling, you lock eyes with him and give him a lazy smile, “Tell me when you’re about to come, Daddy.”

“Fuck, won’t be long,” he pants.

“Tell me when,” you repeat.

“N-now, princess!”

You don’t warn him as you lift yourself up from his dick to slide down onto the floor, kneeling with a dirty smile. He catches on fast, swearing under his breath at the realization, and spreads his legs so you can settle between them.

Quickly, you guide his cock to the far back of your mouth and suck him like he is a popsicle and it’s a hot summer’s day. He sure tastes good, arguably better than normally because he is coated in your sweet slick. The dramatic part of you would say that he tastes like sin.

He hisses loudly above you, immediately yanking at your hair when you swallow him down enthusiastically. You make sure to hum so that your muscles clench around his length and the vibrations go down his shaft.

You’re delusional with post-orgasmic pleasure as you bob your head, squeaking as Joel painfully pulls at your hair to the point where you can hear a few strands of hair pop off your scalp. He is so close, twitching in your mouth with every beat of his heart.

When you hollow your cheeks, he comes on your tongue with a loud groan. His hips stutter slightly but you expertly move with him so nothing spills, and so you can push it to the back of your mouth and swallow.

You radiate pride as you pull off of his spit-slicked cock. He breathes heavily, utterly spent and relishing in it.

“See? No mess to clean,” you rest your cheek against his knees as his cock softens.

“Wow, clever girl,” he praises with the little energy he has left whilst you beam. He holds out his hand for you to take, “C’mere, baby.”

You don’t know how long the two of you lie down on the couch together, naked bodies completely entwined. Your back is pressed against Joel’s chest, and you are giggling as you talk about tedious date-like things that somehow feel like they’re the most interesting things in the world. You ask Joel about his favorite color to which he says that he doesn’t have one because he’s a grownass man. So you playfully roll your eyes and continue on to the topic of favorite songs, would-you-rathers, embarrassing habits…

Joel answers them reluctantly and shyly at first but then seems to relax into it when you answer your own questions with a laugh that has his heart beating so fast that you can feel it against your back.

And then you go again, spooning this time, and you don’t make a joke about his outstanding refractory period because you are too busy trying to make sense of how many orgasms he pulls from you by sliding his hand down your belly and between your thighs.

The pattern starts over. You talk a bit more, but the topic never lands on what you had planned during your way-too-sugary (Joel’s words) lunch together.

Instead, Joel suggests bringing you to his shower, but you reassure him that you are far from done with him for the night, so he might as well save the hot water and the money for the heating bill.

He hums in agreement but does, however, convince you to hydrate with a huge glass of water and to wipe yourself down with a damp flannel that he gets for you during a lie about having to pee. The flannel has cooled down on its journey from the bathroom but it soothes your aching clit the second you hold it over the swollen nub. You sigh contentedly whilst Joel lays down behind you once again.

“Right, where were we?” You say excitedly.

Joel sighs into your neck and tightens an arm around you, “Thought I had made ya forget about that.”

“Well excuse me for wanting to get to know you better,” you tut, patting the hand that splays on your belly, “Now tell me if you were a jock in high school.”

“You got some nerve,” his chest rumbles as he talks, “Definitely wasn’t. I spent all my teen years keepin’ my baby brother outta trouble, you think I had time to play football? Did try baseball once though.”

“I feel like there’s a joke about balls in there,” you lean back and turn slightly to look up at him, wiggling your brows.

“Shut up,” he laughs, and you don’t think you have ever witnessed the man laugh as much as he has done in the last hour.

“I’m just saying you don’t know if you haven’t tried it,” you continue. A warm feeling settles in your heart as he breaks into another grin followed by a chuckle. The hand on your stomach digs into your side, triggering a fit of gleeful giggles as you are tickled. He overpowers you so easily and you quickly find that he is relentless. It’s a fight, a struggle that turns into several kisses everywhere on your face when he is suddenly on top of you again.

That’s when you hear a knock on the door. You look at each other for a second before Joel shoots up from the couch, already pulling on his boxers and fighting to make his semi-hard cock go down. He points at you, “Stay down. They can’t see you if ya just stay down. Ain’t gonna invite anyone in.”

You make yourself as flat as possible and hear Joel’s sharp intake of breath as he looks through the spy hole.

“‘S your old man,” he says, flinching when there’s another rap on the door.

Your pulse spikes, “Well then don’t act suspicious.”

“Right, didn’t think of that,” he deadpans, quickly flattening the hair that has been yanked by you a few times tonight, “Don’t say a thing, okay?”

Joel opens the door after your dad starts calling for him on the other side. He smiles a little forced at first, “Sorry, was just tryna look presentable.”

“Family’s out, so I thought I’d see if ya wanted to catch a game,” your dad says, and you can hear the smile on his face and him holding up what you assume to be a six-pack.

“Now’s not really a good time,” Joel replies. You dare to look up through your lashes in the front door’s direction. Joel has a hand on the doorframe, barring the door in case your father tries to invite himself in.

“I won’t be here long!”

Joel’s feet shift a little, “Just ain’t a good time, buddy.”

“What does that mean? And why are ya barely dressed—“ there’s a brief pause, then, “Oh.”

“Yeah.”

“Got someone over? Ya old dog. Damn, look at you. Still got it,” your father’s hand is visible in the doorway. It nudges Joel’s shoulder, “Why didn’t you just say so?”

Because it’s your fucking daughter and it’s the best sex she’s ever had, you think to yourself and consider screaming into the cushions.

“Right,” your dad hands over the sixpack, “You need this more than me. I’m proud of ya, Miller.”

“Yeah yeah, whatever,” Joel rushes to end the conversation, “‘Nother time. I’ll call you.”

They exchange goodbyes. You peek up at Joel when he closes the door, awaiting his next words to figure out how to react. He stays silent though, even as he walks to the couch again.

You bend your knees to let him fall into one of the seats. He runs a hand over his scruff, and you refrain from placing your feet in his lap.

“That was…” He eventually breathes without any tone to his voice, “Somethin’.”

“Good for you for getting laid,” you joke.

He clicks his tongue at you, “Hey.”

“Hey yourself,” you move to get up from your seat, hold your hand out for him to take, “C’mon. Let’s go shower, wash that guilt off your face.”

“Ain’t guilt, just concern,” he promises as you help him up. He makes a gesture to the both of you, “Could never feel guilty 'bout this.”

“We ain’t talking about that after we almost got busted by my dad,” you repeat his phrase from lunch, mocking his southern drawl.

“I feel like there’s no better time to do it,” he catches on with a smile.

You kiss him, and start to pull him along, “Tomorrow.”

If you would like to follow my writing then go follow @notjustjavierpena-fics and turn on notifications 💖❤️

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locketsvault · 9 months ago

Text

「 AYATO RELATIONSHIP HEADCANONS 」

pairing: ayato kirishima x gender neutral reader

tags: gender neutral reader, human reader, relationship headcanons and scenarios, sfw relationship headcanons, nsfw relationship headcanons

warnings: angst warning for our emo boy, canon gore, nsfw content in the second half of this post, it will be marked so you can skip if uncomfortable! aged up ayato when I get to nsfw content. sexual words used in the nsfw part. not proof read.

request: hii! if it’s not too much could you write something with ayato (tokyo ghoul)? nsfw or sfw, up to you! I’m dying for ayato content ahaha ;; thank youu! (original request found here.)

word count: 1.5k

a/n: I said this in the original request post but I’ll say it here too. I’m very rusty with the plot of tokyo ghoul so forgive me if he’s ooc! I’m also anime only since I’ve been having a hard time reading the manga, though I do know what happens in the manga vs the anime. (If anyone wants me to write a proper fic on how you guys met just ask, I’d honestly love to).

// how the relationship started ⌇˚.༄

⮑ The first time you two met you were walking home from school and got attacked by a rogue ghoul. This ghoul was hunting in a no hunt zone, and you just to happened to be his prey. Ayato was surveying the area when he heard you scream and smelled human blood. Knowing who’s hunting ground it was and that it was probably the rogue ghoul he went over to see what was going on. He was surprised to see that you were fighting back, despite being hold down by the ghouls kagune and seriously injured. You actually managed to injure the ghoul too.

⮑ He took care of the ghoul trying to kill you. While half conscious you heard him mock the guy for hunting in an area with a high count of aogiri members, before tearing his head off. Right after he did you passed out from blood loss. Usually Ayato would’ve killed you or just left you to bleed out, but something about you refusing to give up struck a cord with him. So he sneakily dropped you off at the emergency room and left.

⮑ Next time you guys meet is months later, you recovered fully from the attack, only having scars to show your survival. You were sitting at a coffee shop as the sun set, as a familiar blue haired boy walked inside. At first he didn’t recognize you, and after feeling your gaze on him for a while he turns to yell at you. But suddenly the memories hit him, and he notices that your look is anything but malicious. He decided to bite back his tongue.

⮑ You two would constantly run into each other at that coffee shop. You always have him a genuine smile or silent greeting as he walked by. He found you very peculiar, how you weren’t afraid of him even though he knew damn well you knew he was a ghoul. You didn’t seem uncomfortable around his friends too, and he could tell you knew they were ghouls too.

⮑ You approached him first, having memorized his order. You gave him his coffee one of the times he came in, and thanked him for saving your life. He ofc made a negative quip about how he could care less if you died or not, but you didn’t seem to care. You intrigued him even more. So he told himself he’d give you some of his time. He’d always come to hang out with you, and without realizing it he started falling for you. He hated it.

⮑ He started pushing you away and ignoring you. He stopped showing up to the coffee shop, but he couldn’t help but watch you from afar to make sure you’re safe. One night though you get attacked again when he’s patrolling. And he absolutely loses it. He tears the other ghoul to pieces like a feral animal. He almost hurts you when you walk over to try to comfort him, he’s that crazy.

⮑ He genuinely expected you to be horrified or find him disgusting. Instead you start crying and cup his bloody cheek. His kagune is fully out, his ghoul eyes bright and burning into you, his hair absolutely disheveled. Yet you didn’t seem to care. After you cupped his cheek he could feel his heart pounding, and he slowly started to calm down.

⮑ He let his head fall into your neck as you proceed to hug him, telling him it’s okay over and over. He buried his face into your neck, taking in your scent. He was surprised when he realized the desire he felt over your scent was something quite different than he was used to. He unconsciously started nipping at your neck and scenting you, hoping to protect you as tears streamed down his face.

⮑ That night you two finally come clean about your feelings. And he, reluctantly after lots of reassurance, decides he wants to try being in a relationship with you.

// sfw relationship headcanons ⌇˚.༄

⮑ At the start of your relationship he was very distant and awkward. He wasn’t used to affection and had never been in a committed relationship before.

⮑ He has a habit of stalking you, but not because he doesn’t trust you, he’s just that scared of losing you. You ofc know he does this and you let him, he’s your little protector.

⮑ In front of everyone else he’s an absolute brat, he misbehaves left and right and is very dangerous and powerful. But with you he’s an absolute puppy. Just one touch and he folds.

⮑ You’re the reason he’s able to keep it together as much as he does. You’re always there for him no matter what. Your arms are always open waiting for him when he comes home.

⮑ Speaking of home you two secretly live together once you move out of your parents house. He keeps your relationship as much of a secret as possible. But you don’t mind.

⮑ He panicked the first time you saw him eat leftovers at home. Knowing he eats humans is one thing, seeing it is another. He was scared you’d be uncomfortable or say something inappropriate. So he puffed up like a porcupine ready to defend himself. Instead, you reassured him it was okay. Surprisingly you sat down with him and started eating as well.

⮑ Now though if he eats he will sit next to you nonchalantly and sometimes rest his head in your shoulder as he does. You make him feel that safe.

⮑ He confides in you about his familial issues and all about his big sister. You do your best to help him talk better with Touka, it’s not easy though.

⮑ He’s actually very affectionate when he opens up. He loves hugging and holding you, along with giving you kisses. He tends to greet you with forehead kisses, it’s nice. :>

⮑ He’s pretty good with keeping you up to date on what’s going on in the ghoul world, and you help him with navigating the world as a human.

⮑ You balance each other very well.

// nsfw relationship headcanons ⌇˚.༄

⮑ Ghoul smut, yippee.

⮑ I think we can all agree on the ghouls and pheromones and instincts and stuff like that. I’ve actually read a bunch of stuff on ghouls on this app but it’s been months and I can’t remember so forgive me.

⮑ He’s very very verryyyy possessive. Even from the start.

⮑ He won’t act on it though, he’s not ready and doesn’t want to scare you off. But boy does he get the urge all the time.

⮑ Blood kink. He loves to taste you on his lips. Biting kink too. He will leave marks, and they’ll almost always be enough to draw blood. With consent ofc.

⮑ He actually almost lost control over himself the first time you two made out.

⮑ I should probably mention you turn him on fast. Your smile, your scent, your body language. All of it gets under his skin.

⮑ Your first sexual encounter with Ayato was in an alleyway actually. It was night time, he was walking you to your shared apartment. Somehow, you ended up pressed against the wall, holding onto your boyfriend as his fingers worked magic on you. You desperately tried to stay silent since you were in public but you struggled. Even if he had little to no prior experience he’s naturally talented and knows exactly how you work.

⮑ Your first intercourse was actually kind of sweet. It was when you first moved into your apartment, your building had rooftop access. So you two camped out on the roof to watch the stars. It started off with hand holding and innocent kisses, yet somehow he ended up between your legs pounding into you.

⮑ He prefers doing the work and being dominant when it comes to sexual activity. But sometimes he will let you on top. He can’t resist the sight of you riding him.

⮑ He’s very touchy, his hands are always all over you. No matter the position you can feel his hand sliding up your inner thighs or sides.

⮑ The first time you asked him to fuck you as a ghoul he was hesitant, worried you’d be scared. He was shocked instead when you came hard the first time. He will usually let his eyes show, but sometimes he will let out his kagune too upon request.

⮑ Ayato is average length and thick, and he knows how to use it. He loves his cock, I’m sorry but he does. He loves when you try to stroke him off, or when you get down on your knees for him instead. But most of all he loves the look on your face when he makes you cum with it.

⮑ Ghouls have extra strength so he has to be careful with you, there are definitely some times where he’s accidentally hurt you while learning your limits.

⮑ He doesn’t use protection. He knows you’re both clean, and if you’re afab since you’re human he honestly believes he can’t knock you up. That being said though, he loves breeding you.

main hub ✦ masterlist ✦ to do list

#tokyo ghoul #tokyo ghoul x reader #ayato x reader #ayato kirishima x reader #ayato kirishima headcanons #ayato x gender neutral reader #ayato x gn reader #ayato kirishima x gender neutral reader #ayato kirishima x gn reader #tokyo ghoul headcanon

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epicsteddieficrecs · 3 months ago

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Steddie Podfic Mini-Rec - July 2024

If you've seen my post from a few days/weeks (what is time??) ago, you might know that I've had a little Steddie Renaissance by means of podfics! I got into podfics for the first time a few months ago with the ship that's now occupying most of my brain space, but I've now listened to pretty much everything that there is in the tag, ergo: back to Steddie! I hope you enjoy and please give kudos and comments to the lovely people recording these fics if you listen to them!

[Podfic] far away from nothing by greedy_dancer // fic by glorious_spoon/@glorious-spoon (Coming Out, Missing Scene | 10-20min | Teen): The thing is, Steve knows he’s the dumb one. Between Nancy’s straight-A report cards and Dustin’s wild brilliance and Robin’s multilingual code-cracking skills—yeah. He’s just Steve Harrington, who graduated high school with a 2.1 GPA and got rejected by every fancy college his parents made him apply to. Fine. Somebody needs to guard the door and take the hits while the rest of them save the fucking world, and he’s more than okay with that somebody being him. The other thing is, most of them are brilliant in a way that he’ll never understand, and dumb as hell when it comes to human relationships.

[podfic] Shovel Talks by RattleandHum (ThirdEye1234)/ @thirdeye1234 // fic by unkreativstermensch (Post-S4, Pining, Wayne POV | 20-30min | Teen): “Oh,” Steve says. Then again, “oh,” a little quieter. His expression changes; from confusion to something pained almost. “Mr Munson, I don’t…” he takes a deep breath, his voice a little shaky as he continues. “I don’t think he…I don’t think he likes me like that.” He doesn’t say “it’s not like that.” Neither does he say “I’m not like that.” That’s the first thing Wayne notices. or: Wayne decides to give Steve the shovel talk, only to realize he might not be the one needing one.

[podfic] Longer Lasting Freshness by RattleandHum (ThirdEye1234)/ @thirdeye1234 // fic by RurouniHime/ @thegertie (Morning After, Friends to Lovers | 20-30min | Mature): Steve's his friend. His closest friend. And Eddie had to mess it up. He had to mess it up so hard, all the way and back again because Eddie never does anything at less than a hundred and twenty percent.

[Podfic] The way you feel by Itty_Bitty_Blondie/ @itty-bitty-blondie // fic by alchemystique/ @alchemistc (Getting Together | 20-30min | Teen): Eddie pulls back, and Steve chases, a bit, blinks his eyes back open with a pout. “You. What. You?”It’s – Steve’s done this whole song and dance with half the girls in his age group in Hawkins, rarely ever felt this buzzing under his skin. The desperate urge to claw his way into Eddie’s chest is burning him. That’s…not the usual reaction he gets when he kisses someone. “What the hell, Harrington? What the fuck?” And like… okay. So. He’s had crushes before. He’s been in fucking love before and he fucking knows what it feels like and he knows what it means when someone looks at you the way that Eddie looks at him and-. “Fuck, uh… Shit, sorry man. Yeah. Should have, uh…whoops?” “Whoops?”

[Podfic] hands of loving by greedy_dancer // fic by kafkian (PWP, First Time | 30-45min | Explicit): ‘No way,’ Steve said, stunned. ‘You’re a virgin?’ Eddie rolled his eyes. ‘Shut up, man.’ ‘No, I didn’t mean – just. Really?’ Steve asked. ‘You've really never ...?’ ‘I run a DnD group, got held back in school twice, and live in a trailer with my uncle,’ Eddie said flatly. ‘What part of that screams dick magnet to you?’

[Podfic] Roll for Initiative by Silverkat1620/ @silverkat1620 // fic by by alchemystique/ @alchemistc (Post-S4, Past Kas!Eddie | 30-45min | Teen): He nearly gets away with it, is the thing. Three sessions in and the kids haven’t realized the BBEG isn’t the tarnished knight with the swooping hair and the stupid dad jokes they groan at every time. They still think the wizard leading them towards imminent destruction is on their side, and as his reluctant hero of an NPC warns them to be wary even Will the Wise rolls his eyes and misses the opportunity for a perception check that barring a Nat 1 would have, at the very least, told them that one of them wasn’t to be trusted. He’s not even trying that hard to hide the incredibly obvious parallels – the courtship the knight had once had with the sister of Wheeler’s paladin, the reluctant way he continuously steps in when the party gets themselves into a hairy situation, the incredibly obvious boner Eddie has for this stupid character he’s created solely for the purpose of a reveal he both does and does not want them to discover early on.

[Podfic] you could let it all go (it's called freefall) by Itty_Bitty_Blondie/ @itty-bitty-blondie for anniebibananie/ @anniebibananie (Post-S4, Getting Together | 45-60min | Teen): Good things don’t happen to Eddie Munson, and he’s very aware of the fact. That’s kinda the whole foundation of who he is as a person at this point: don’t expect good things to happen. He rolls with it. He makes glitter out of the shit. He lives in his own fantasy because reality has pretty much always sucked since, likely, before he can remember. Good things don’t happen to Eddie Munson, so he has no idea how to wrap his head around Steve Harrington’s sudden appearance in his life as an unmovable fixture. No fucking clue.

[Podfic] Anywhere, Anytime by RattleandHum (ThirdEye1234)/ @thirdeye1234 // fic by AidaRonan/ @aidaronan (Post-S4 | 1-1.5h | Mature): Eddie wakes from a nightmare about the bats. Again. About a week ago, Steve Harrington gave him his number with instructions to call if he needed anything. Said number is tacked on Eddie's wall under his Anthrax poster. But it's 3:17 a.m. and Eddie probably shouldn't call. Definitely shouldn't call. (Eddie calls.)

[Podfic] It's Not a Big Deal by Itty_Bitty_Blondie/ @itty-bitty-blondie for AidaRonan/ @aidaronan (Post-S4, Accidental Sugar Daddy Steve Harrington | 1-1.5h | Mature): Eddie survives, but his entire life is locked away in the Upside Down forever (his books, his DnD stuff, his guitar.) Everything that wasn't on Eddie when Steve carried him into the ER, gone. So naturally Steve starts giving him things. Handing Eddie back those little outward markers of who he is.

[Podfic] Some Things Cosmic by greedy_dancer // fic by stereobone/ @stereobone (Post-S4, Dream Sharing | 1-1.5h | Explicit): Steve has a dream about Eddie. And another. And another. And another...

[Podfic] Whole Lotta Love by greedy_dancer // fic by stereobone/ @stereobone (Post-S4, Getting Together | Explicit): Steve scoffs. "I think if I was dating someone, Robin, I would be the first to know about it." "Would you, though?" Robin says.

[podfic] Mutual Future by RattleandHum (ThirdEye1234)/ @thirdeye1234 // fic by knell (Post-S4, Getting Together | 3.5-4h | Explicit): "Okay," Eddie says at last, voice betraying his cool demeanor. "I'll go first." He clears his throat, folds his hands politely in his lap. "I have never been more confused in my life than when I'm with you. And I've taken trig three times and I'm still not a hundred percent on what a hypotenuse is, so, like, it's not difficult to confuse me or anything. But you really take the cake, man." Steve chews on his lip. "Sorry? I'm... confused too." — two dudes navigate their feelings in the most normal way possible.

[Podfic] the most remarkable thing about you standing in the doorway is that it’s you by Itty_Bitty_Blondie/ @itty-bitty-blondie // fic by greatunironic/ @greatunironic (Future Fic, Getting Together | 3.5-4h | Explicit: Sixteen years after the world didn't end for the last time, Max Mayfield showed up on Steve’s doorstep and said, “You gonna walk me down the aisle in May or what?” Or, it’s 2002 and Steve Harrington attends a wedding, a funeral, and a birth.

[Podfic] I just want your extra time (and your kiss) by RattleandHum (ThirdEye1234)/ @thirdeye1234 // fic by ChristinMKay / @transmascsteveharrington (Post-S4, Getting Together | 4.5-5h | Mature): Five times Steve almost kissed Eddie and the one time Eddie beat him to it.

[Podfic] sub-culture by greedy_dancer // fic by palmviolet/ @palmviolet (Post-S4V1, Getting Together | 7-10h | Teen): “Is he whining about Eddie being mean to him again?” Robin is leaning in the doorway, eating a leftover slice that’s probably cold by now. “You talk about him more than you talk about girls, Steve, it’s getting concerning. Anyone would think you had a crush.” Or, Steve is pretty convinced Eddie now hates him. Turns out Eddie has the opposite problem.

#steddie #steddie fic rec #steddie fanfic #steddie podfic #steddie fic #epic steddie fic rec

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catinasink · 4 months ago

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greetings from the sink

am i in post limit jail? nope :3

school is taking away my joy n whismy i fear!! (aka. posting a lot less recently)

most recent edit: 10/24/24

im the one and only cat btw. if you even care.

also im the ultimate faggot btw

main shit

minor. (my birthday is november 8 :3c )

i go by cat and nico and pluto and neptune and siffrin and calypso mainly and you can call me any of those

it/any/ask :3c please :3c

unlabeled-ish polyam aspec faggot <3

dont call me your friend + no /p tonetag (im aplatonic :] )

no chain asks + no tag games + no donation asks please.

uhh no real dni? just no porn blogs follow me pls im a minor 👍

if i fit your dni criteria just like. block me or softblock me or smn idk

i post silly stuff (i rb a lot lol . i og post in the flavors of gaypost, sillypost, ventpost (sadly often), lyricpost, fandompost, etc etc. i also spam rb often)

i have two cats, kim and shego (or floorshitter); a sister (she/her); and the irls (as in real life people i know; i tend to use irl as a term to describe the people i am close to irl) i mention most are pb / pissboy (he/him), cherry (they/any), and eve (she/her)

pst timezone (usually)

scorpio sun saggitarius moon scorpio rising . ok yeah thats a fucking Lie the constellations have shifted but i cba to check again lol

i speak english + russian, learning german + hebrew

couple sideblogs, including @nymph-of-the-sea (rp blog for calypso from pjo) (no i never use it); @catinabath (for when im on post limit); two gimmick blogs; i definitely dont own @totallynotcatinasink; as well as @forehead-kiss-mutual-kill-polls :] a few others but ill keep those secret 💥

matching descs w @shrimpysstuff (shrimpy !!!) and banners w @homoashell (starr !!!)

i have three very lovely qpps mwah mwah <3 also a very dear spouse <3

i have an ao3 if that matters :]

discord server link :3 preferably join if youre around the age of a minor so everyone feels comfortable

literally just a cat in a sink btw

fandoms im in / rb from

warrior cats. i love em

will wood. hes so silly . is this a fandom idk

genshin impact. grhghrhgr

pjo. whoag

isat. save me isat

object shows. i like object shows. namely ii, hfjone, objectified, n bfdi

danganronpa. uhmmm yeah haha dont look at me

tags

most of my og posts: #cat's rambles

asks: #cat's asks

schoolposting: #cat's schoolposting

ventposting: #neptune is complaining again

lyricposting: #cat's lyricposting

art: #cat's art

music i write: #cat's lyrics

polls i make: #cat's polls

pics of my cat: #cat's cat

yearning sighhhh: #nico catinasink is yearning

queued or scheduled posts: #queue you

posts i write in my notes app: #drafts

submissions: #eris' submissions

the penis saga: #the penis saga

pissboy mentions: #my lovely pissboy

lightning anon: #lightning anon

blender anon: #cat's blender anon

rizzler anon: #rizzler anon

brain anon: #🧠 anon

pineapple anon: #pineapple anon

sparkle anon: #sparkle anon

mcchicken anon: #mcchicken anon

sink lore: #happenings of the sink

dreamscape nexus: #dreamscape nexus

posts i want to look at later: #fave

posts of mine that are more popular than others or i want to find em later: #save

i tend to only tag the following tws: sui, sh, ed / eating issues, and emetophobia pls lmk if i should tag anything else !!!

have a good day

#intro post!#<- prev there #imp.#<- shit to keep #pinned

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pathos-logical · 2 years ago

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How to Keep Doing Descriptions (from someone who does a fuckton)

Plain text: How to Keep Doing Descriptions (from someone who does a fuckton)

This is a list aimed mostly at helping people who already write IDs; for guides at learning how to do them yourself, check my accessibility and image description tags! I write this with close to two years of experience with IDs and chronic pain :)

Get used to writing some IDs by using both your phone and your computer, if you can! I find it easier to type long-form on my laptop, so I set up videos and long comics on my phone, which I then prop up against my laptop screen so I can easily reference the post without constantly scrolling or turning my head

I will never stop plugging onlineocr.net. I use it to ID everything from six-word tags to screenshots of long posts to even comic dialogue! On that last note, convertcase.net can convert text between all-caps, lowercase, sentence case, and title case, which is super helpful

Limit the number of drafts/posts-to-be-described you save. No, seriously. I never go above 10 undescribed drafts on any of my four blogs. It doesn’t have to be that low, but this has done wonders (italics: wonders) for my productivity and willingness to write IDs. If I ever get above that limit, even if it’s two or three more, I immediately either describe the lowest-effort post or purge some, and if I can't do that then I stop saving things to drafts no matter what. No exceptions! Sticking to this will make your life so much easier and less stressful

My pinned post has a link to a community doc of meme description templates!

Ask! For! Help! Please welcome to the stage the People’s Accessibility Server! It’s full of lovely people and organized into channels where you can request/volunteer descriptions and ask/answer questions

I make great use of voice-to-text and glide typing on my phone to save my hands some effort!

Something is always better than nothing!!! A short two-sentence or one-sentence ID is better than no ID at all. Take it easy :)

If you feel guilty about being unable to reblog amazing but undescribed art, try getting into the habit of replying to OP’s post to let them know you liked it! This makes me feel less pressured to ID absolutely everything I see

This is a sillier one, but I tag posts I describe as "described" and "described by me." When saving to drafts, I never preemptively tag with "described by me," since for some reason that always makes me feel extra pressure and extra stress. Consider doing something similar for yourself if that applies!

I frequently find myself looking at pieces of art which feel like they need to be considered for a bit before I can write an ID for them, and those usually get thrown into drafts, where the dread for writing a comprehensive ID just builds. Don’t do that! Instead, try just staying in the reblog field for a bit and focus on the most relevant aspects of the piece. Marinate on them for a little; don’t rush, but don’t spend more than a handful of seconds either. I find after that the art becomes way easier to describe than it initially seemed!

On that note, look for shortcuts that make IDs less taxing for you to do! For example, I only ever describe clothes in art if they're relevant to the piece; not doing that every time saves a lot of time and energy for me personally

Building off of that, consider excusing yourself from a particular kind of ID if you want to. Give yourself a free pass for 4chan posts, or fanart by an artist who does really good but really complex comics, whatever. Let it be someone else's responsibility and feel twice as proud about the work that you can now allot more energy to!

As always, make an effort to find and follow fellow describers! It’s always encouraging to get described posts on your dash, and I find that sometimes I'm happier to ID an undescribed post when the person who put it on my dash is a friend who tagged it with "no ID"

TL;DR: To make ID-writing less stressful and more low-effort, use different devices and software like onlineocr.net and voice-to-text, limit the amount of work you expect yourself to do, and reach out to artists and other describers!

#i have no idea if there's a real audience for this post but this is a genuine list of things i do to help myself out #i hope it can help someone else out too <3 #accessibility #image descriptions #my posts #kay talks #long post #this has been in my drafts for so long i'm exiling it because i can't stand wondering if it's coherent any longer

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kafus · 1 year ago

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how to transfer your old pokemon to pokemon home before it's too late!!!

the wi-fi services for the nintendo 3DS and WiiU are shutting down in early april 2024, and while it specifically lists pokemon bank and poke transporter as being available post-shutdown, there is no guarantee of how long that may be for. there will likely come a time when these services shut down, and it could be in the relatively near future.

it is also pretty much impossible now to transfer pokemon to the switch's Home service with alternative methods such as PKHeX (popular pokemon save editor for the uninformed) due to the implementation of server-side Home IDs tracking pokemon at all times - the details of that aren't super important for this post, but point is, whenever bank shuts down, unless nintendo makes an offline way to transfer to home, it will be impossible to move pokemon from the old gens to the new, even with alternative/hack-y methods.

i write this guide with the intention of making this process easier for people since transferring pokemon has changed so much over the past two decades that it's a bit of a mess, and in a timely manner to give people time to finish the process. i'll be organizing by generation so feel free to skip to any part of the guide you need. (keep in mind that transferring is permanent, your pokemon cannot go back afterwards!!)

(by the way it would mean a lot to me if you weren't overwhelmingly negative of pokemon in the tags/reblogs. i get that pokemon transferring being an online service sucks but reading that stuff in my notifications constantly is really tiring </3 make ur own post to talk about that)

to walk you through, i'll be transferring this random shiny spinda i hatched in emerald version all the way up to pokemon home. her name is Moss :]

below the cut since this is long as fuck sorry LOL

GEN 1/2 -> 3 (aka RBY/GSC -> RSE/FRLG)

this is impossible! as for the Virtual Console releases of the gen 1/2 games on 3DS, more on that later in the gen 5 -> 6/7 section.

GEN 3 -> 4 (aka RSE/FRLG -> DPPT/HGSS)

what you need:

a copy of RSE or FRLG

a copy of DPPT or HGSS in the same language as the RSE/FRLG copy that has beaten the champion and has access to post-game areas, preferably HGSS because it lets you transfer unlimited times as opposed to DPPT's once-per-24-hours limit (unless you happen to have korean DPPT/HGSS, which is not language locked in terms of transferring)

either an original DS or a DS lite, the old ones with the GBA slot at the bottom

the steps:

#1. you can only transfer 6 pokemon at a time, so get whatever 6 pokemon you want to transfer up together in gen 3. if you're intending to transfer less than 6 pokemon, you'll need to catch some extras since you have to transfer the full 6 every time (i usually just catch a bunch of extra mons on the first route, which is what i've done here with the poochyenas/wurmples)

#2. put the gen 3 game into the GBA slot of the DS, and the gen 4 game into the DS slot. both games should appear on the home menu after turning on the DS.

#3. load the DS game and spam A past the title screen. before loading your save, scroll down. you should see a "MIGRATE FROM (GAME NAME HERE)" option. if you don't, either the GBA game isn't reading properly, or you have not visited Pal Park in your gen 4 game of choice. in HGSS, the Pal Park is located in Fuchsia City, and in DPPT, the Pal Park is located at the end of Route 221 below Sandgem Town.

#4. select the aforementioned migration option and pick the pokemon you want to transfer.

#5. navigate to the Pal Park and complete the Catching Show, where you re-catch your transferred pokemon in the wild. this does not overwrite what pokeballs they were originally caught in! you will need to bring a pokemon with Surf if you have any Pokemon that spawn in the water areas. you can check what location the pokemon you transferred will be in on bulbapedia.

#6. say yes to storing the caught pokemon in your PC boxes and they'll be there!

important things to note:

pokemon with HM moves will be blocked from transfer, so make sure to use the Move Deleter to remove HM moves from any pokemon you're transferring in gen 3 before trying to transfer. in RSE, the Move Deleter is in Lilycove City, and in FRLG they are in Fuchsia City.

gen 3 -> 4 is the only step in the transfer process where held items transfer up as well, meaning that if you attach a valuable item such as a rare candy, master ball, or TM to a transferred pokemon, you can take it off that pokemon and put it in your bag in the gen 4 game.

an aside about colosseum/XD gale of darkness on gamecube:

you can transfer pokemon from colo/XD as well! unfortunately you'll need to have beaten colo/XD, and then you will also need to beat the gen 3 game... in FRLG, you even have to complete the postgame ruby/sapphire quest on the sevii islands to unlock trading with the gamecube games. once you do all that though, you can navigate to the pokemon center basement in Phenac City to trade with your gen 3 GBA title. to do this, you'll need a gamecube or wii with gamecube compatibility, a GBA (or GBA SP), and a GCN -> GBA link cable to connect the two consoles.

GEN 4 -> 5 (aka DPPT/HGSS -> BW/BW2)

what you need:

a copy of DPPT/HGSS

a copy of BW or BW2 in the same language as DPPT/HGSS copy that has beaten the champion (or N in the original BW) and has access to post-game areas.

two DS consoles of any kind (3DS is also fine!)

the steps:

#1. get the pokemon you want to transfer together in your gen 4 game's PC boxes. you can only transfer 6 pokemon at a time. if you have less than 6, catch some extra pokemon, since you need to transfer the full 6 every time. save it and turn off the DS with the gen 4 game.

#2. turn on your gen 5 game and navigate to the Poke Transfer Lab. personally i just fly to Black City/White Forest and head west.

#3. talk to the NPC in the lab to start the transfer process. you will be prompted to turn on your other DS again and open DS Download Play with your gen 4 game inserted. do that and download the Poke Transfer app that comes up.

#4. select the 6 Pokemon you want to transfer when prompted.

#5. play the transfer minigame! just drag the... bow? (lol) on the bottom screen to aim your pokeballs. there's technically a time limit, but it's very generous, and your final score doesn't matter.

#6. say yes to transferring the pokemon once you're done and they'll be placed in your PC boxes!

important things to note:

pokemon with HM moves will be blocked from transfer, so make sure to use the Move Deleter to remove HM moves from any pokemon you're transferring in gen 4 before trying to transfer. in DPPT they're in Canalave City, and in HGSS they're in Blackthorn City.

the level the pokemon was obtained at and the date it was obtained is changed upon transfer to gen 5 - it will have the met date of your DS clock and the met level of the level it was at the time of transfer. if you'd like to preserve a pokemon's met date, make sure to change the DS clock to the proper date.

GEN 5 -> 6/7 (aka BW/BW2 -> 3DS TITLES/BANK)

what you need:

a copy of BW/BW2

a copy of any 3DS pokemon game (XY/ORAS/SUMO/USUM)

a 3DS (or 2DS, i'll just be referring to them all as 3DSes here) with the poke transporter and pokemon bank apps installed. these were free apps that were once downloadable from the 3DS eShop, but the 3DS eShop is no longer available, so if you don't already have them installed you will need to explore alternate methods, AKA hacking your 3DS and injecting them in. that's outside the scope of this guide but you can find more information here on 3ds.hacks.guide. (do not attempt to follow any 3DS hacking guide not on this website, they could be outdated and harm your 3DS!)

a nintendo network ID that your 3DS is logged into (also outside the scope of this guide but if you don't already have one, it will prompt you during the process to make one)

internet connection

the steps:

#1. poke transporter defaults to trying to transfer every pokemon located in Box 1 of your PC, so go into your gen 5 game and put every pokemon you want to transfer into Box 1, and take anything you don't want to transfer out. if you want to transfer more pokemon than you can fit in one box, you'll have to transfer multiple times.

#2. open poke transporter with your gen 5 game inserted into the 3DS' cartridge slot. after pressing A through some menus and selecting the gen 5 game when prompted, it should ask if you want to transfer the pokemon in Box 1, with a preview of the pokemon inside. confirm and let it do its thing. after poke transporter is finished, the pokemon you transferred will be in the special Transport Box in bank.

#3. make sure you either have a 3DS pokemon title downloaded onto your 3DS, or swap out your gen 5 cart for one, it doesn't matter which.

#4. close out of poke transporter and navigate to pokemon bank. at the time of writing this guide, bank is still online and is free for everyone without a subscription - the main menu has an infinite "free trial" period number.

#5. select "use pokemon bank" and pick a 3DS game to connect with when prompted. it doesn't matter which one, but if you're looking to see your pokemon in a gen 6/7 game right now, pick the one you want to move it into. viewing a pokemon in a gen 6/7 game isn't required to move to home later, though!

#6. the Transport Box is located one box to the left of Box 1 - navigate to it and drag your pokemon out into a normal bank box. now you can move them to any gen 6/7 pokemon game you want, or home later!

important things to note:

even though bank connects with both gen 6 and gen 7 games, once you place a pokemon into a gen 7 game (SUMO/USUM), you cannot transfer that pokemon back to a gen 6 game (XY/ORAS), so be careful!

an aside about the VC releases of RBY/GSC:

poke transporter can also be used to transfer pokemon out of the VC releases of RBY/GSC. these pokemon are changed pretty heavily, converting all their old gen data into pokemon's modern data structure. you can find more information about all the changes/conversions made on bulbapedia. these pokemon are considered gen 7 pokemon afterwards, and cannot be moved into XY/ORAS. pokemon with held items also cannot be transferred from VC titles and will fail to transfer.

if you want to transfer pokemon from cartridge RBY/GSC and have a save dumping device, it is possible to inject the cartridge's save file into the VC versions with Checkpoint on a hacked 3DS and then transfer that way. for GSC specifically, you'll need to edit your save slightly to make it compatible with VC GSC's save format. i personally made a converter for that here that you're free to use in-browser.

GEN 6/7 -> GEN 8+ (aka BANK -> HOME)

what you need:

a 3DS (or 2DS, i'll just be referring to them all as 3DSes here) with the pokemon bank app installed. this was a free app that was once downloadable from the 3DS eShop, but the 3DS eShop is no longer available, so if you don't already have it installed you will need to explore alternate methods, AKA hacking your 3DS and injecting it in. that's outside the scope of this guide but you can find more information here on 3ds.hacks.guide. (do not attempt to follow any 3DS hacking guide not on this website, they could be outdated and harm your 3DS!)

a nintendo network ID that your 3DS is logged into (also outside the scope of this guide but if you don't already have one, it will prompt you during the process to make one)

a switch with Pokemon Home installed, which can be downloaded for free from the switch's eShop. a nintendo switch online subscription is not required.

unfortunately, you WILL need a subscription to home's premium plan to do bank -> home transfers.

internet connection

the steps:

#1. open pokemon bank and make sure all the pokemon you want to transfer are in their own boxes, and any you don't want to transfer are not in the same boxes as the to-be-transferred pokemon.

#2. go back to the bank home menu and select the "move pokemon to pokemon home" option. when you get the notice about the transfer being one-way, you'll need to scroll down to hit "Begin".

#3. you will be prompted to select what boxes of pokemon you'd like to transfer, so pick all the applicable ones.

#4. you will then be prompted to put in the moving key from home, so turn on your switch, open pokemon home, and select the icon that looks like a 3DS on the main menu. when prompted, choose "Ready!" to get the moving key.

#5. input the moving key on the 3DS, submit it, and wait for both apps to do their thing. once bank goes back to its title screen, you can turn off the 3DS.

#6. home will go back to its title screen as well, and depending on how many pokemon you moved, you may have to wait a few minutes to get back into the app. once it's done, the next time you open home, it'll prompt you to choose how to organize your transferred pokemon into home. pick whatever you see fit.

#7. congratulations, your pokemon are safe in home!!

important things to note:

unlike all pokemon games before the switch, pokemon can actually go backwards in generation on switch, so don't worry about transferring a pokemon into scarlet/violet locking you out of moving it to sword/shield, for example. (the exception to this is LGPE - nothing can be moved into LGPE and once a pokemon is moved out of LGPE, it can't go back.)

pokemon home actually has decent hack checks, so be careful when transferring hacked/glitched/otherwise illegitimate pokemon around.

pokemon from a gen 3/4 game will have their met location set to "Poke Shifter" - this is an alternative translation of the japanese name for the Poke Transporter.

pokemon on switch can only transfer into games that contain that pokemon in its dex, so not everything transferred can go into scarlet/violet, for example.

and that's it!!

there's a lot of other quirks to the pokemon transferring process at pretty much all steps, so if you run into an unusual issue or have specific questions about how pokemon data is changed in minute ways across the franchise, i would encourage you to do your own research, all of this stuff is pretty heavily documented by the fanbase. this is just meant to be a guide for casual users, and a quick reference.

this guide of course does not cover options for transferring in alternative ways, but it's worth mentioning that if you have a hacked 3DS and the ability to back up save files at any point from gens 3 -> 5, you can use PKHeX to transfer pokemon into the 3DS titles, then move them to bank and transfer to home normally from there. that's outside the scope of this guide and i'd also encourage you to do your own research for that.

happy transferring!

#pokemon #pokemon bank #pokemon home #long post #nintendo #of course it really sucks that we have to do this at all #ive been opposed to bank/home being online services since p much day one #but that's just how the cookie crumbles i guess #Sighhhh i have so much stuff to transfer myself lol #kiki was here #kiki.txt

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canonkiller · 8 months ago

Note

Hi, I'm trying to do art commissions, but no one has commissioned me yet. Do you have any advice for attracting customers?

I wrote a lot of words for you in hopes that at least some of it will be helpful, so I'm putting the bulk of this answer below a read more to save people the scrolling. The quick and easy two tips that I find people forget to do the most are:

Is your art easy to find? Having a pinned post with a tag for your art, a link in your bio, or an art-focused / reblog-light blog (like this one!) make it so that people know you draw, and knowing you've been posting art for a while makes you less likely to be a scammer.

Is your commission info easy to find? People can't buy things that they don't know you're selling; clear and accessible links to your prices and terms are important.

Now for the real bulky meat of advice giving, where I say a lot of words that may or may not be relevant:

I have a lot of advice, but I do want to say before getting into it:

A lot of selling art (especially in a non-industry setting, like with social media commissions) is luck.

There is no one size fits all method for selling art, and it's best to go with what feels right to you (I'll go more into this later)

Tips for selling are not necessarily tips for creating, and there will be advice in here that I don't apply to myself. Determining what you do and do not implement is something you should decide for yourself and your work flow.

Your art not selling doesn't mean nobody cares about it.

Personally I think the idea of intentionally curating a single subject demographic of Customer and Consumer for your work is limiting and doomed to burnout in a non-industry space. I will also touch more on this later.

Now for the rest of it in varying orders:

✨ Attracting Customers

This one is going first because you mentioned it specifically. It is kind of vague though, by nature of the term, so what I advise doing is specifying.

When you are thinking of a customer, are you trying to appeal to:

People who will buy pre-made art products? (Pins, stickers, prints, etc)

People who will buy custom work? (Commissions for specific subject matter)

People who will buy art resources you've created? (Fonts, bases, texture packs, 3d models etc)

There's also frequency: a repeat customer of custom art will usually be appealed to more by a wide range of options (like illustrations), while you might get more single-purchase customers if you only offer a limited range of options (like only icons).

Demographics also, of course, play a substantial role in just custom art commissions; furries get lauded as high spenders, but they're also a huge community that is focused around OCs, so by statistics alone they will have more people with spending money and will be frequent customers of people drawing OCs. A narrower audience means fewer people, but often the spread of the people within that audience is the same - and at the end of the day, selling an art piece only requires one other person, it's just a matter of happening to find them.

The follow up question is of course the finding: the average artist in fandom spaces selling commissions does not have the platform or budget for an ad campaign. This, however, is also its own category:

✨ Posting Online

Right out the gate: anyone who has told you that just drawing x thing is the way to get easy money is wrong.

"If you draw more fan art, you'll -" wrong.

"Nobody cares about that, you should be drawing this instead -" wrong.

"if you need to sell fast, just sell porn -" wrong. And also re-evaluate your perceived lack of quality or value about the subject.

The things you will be able to create easily and consistently will be the things YOU, SPECIFICALLY, like to create. It is also entirely impossible that you are the only person on earth to have ever liked those things, which means that if you create them, there are people out there who will enjoy them.

It feels itchy to be like "and those people are Potential Customers", but it is true; your work will resonate with people. They will want you to create it. It is vitally important to your own well being that the things you create, that you want others to enjoy, are things you enjoy as well.

(This is also why the "just draw porn" joking advice that gets tossed around is particularly fucked up. You as the artist should not feel forced into drawing things you aren't comfortable with, and the vast majority of customers for explicit content also don't want the people making it to feel forced into doing so. It's basic consent. I have strong feelings about this.)

If you are creating things and putting them out into the world, they will find an audience. That audience may be one singular person! The number does not matter, because that's still a person who - again, sucks to frame ig this way - has the potential to buy things from you.

If you're constantly chasing a bigger follower count, more interactions, etc etc for the future, it can genuinely be pretty taxing on the people who want to support you in the present. When you enjoy someone's work, and want to support them, being told constantly that that support is not good enough is frustrating. Trying to follow your work should not lead to seeing more "likes are WORTHLESS and NOBODY reblogs my things" posts than it does art. You are a person making things to share with other people, and you have to remember it or you will burn yourself out into a desiccated husk.

TL:DR consistency is key and the easiest way to be consistent is to just draw whatever the fuck you live drawing in whatever ways you want to draw it, and then slap it on the internet somewhere and Keep Doing That

✨ The Actual Commission Information

this one is just factual really. A lot of artists have really shitty commission sheet layouts, because advertising graphic design and illustrative art are different skill sets. That's fine. You don't have to remake the wheel. A good commission sheet should include:

More images than text (if you can't see what the examples are when zoomed out, you have to rearrange or cut down on words)

Examples organized by price / type, and clearly labeled

Your personal favourites for examples - one really strong example piece is better than twenty tiny images of work you think is just "okay"

Contact information - having a method that works WITHOUT a social media account (email.) Is important and way easier to keep organized, imo

A SIMPLE list of strengths (the things you draw the best) and things you won't draw (common example: mechs). You do not need to list every fandom or subject matter. Limit yourself to a top five.

A clear and easy to type link for your terms of service. Carrd, and sites like it, is good for this. This will go into details about your process, what you will and won't do, permissions granted to the commissioner (like "no, you can't make an NFT with this"), your privacy policy (saying you won't sell commissioner details to third parties), and other stuff. You do not want to have all of this on your original post, because it should be thorough and you want your main post to be showcasing your work and not your legalese. Here's mine as a reference; if you have trouble writing your own, feel free to copy from it and make the necessary alterations for your work.

✨ There Was More I Was Going To Write But I Forgot

I have a different document of commission related talk here, which is also incomplete but in a different way. It's in my nature. Hopefully some combination of this and that can be useful to you. Sorry if they're not. I love you have a nice day

#not art #ask #ne0nwisp #i feel like this is a profoundly unhelpful word count but I Tried.

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jojo-oliver · 1 year ago

Text

How to tumblr for artists… my own version

A collection of things that have been working for me, but may not work for everyone

~~~ your posts ~~~

!!!reblog your own stuff!!! you need to reblog your own stuff, there is nothing morally wrong with reblogging your own stuff regularly. in fact, it is morally right to allow the chance for more people to see your artwork.

~~~ queue it!! ~~~ my queue is 500 posts strong. maybe don't try to make your queue hundreds of posts strong in the same day omg but like… once every month or two i'll go through my whole blog and just scroll and "add to drafts" to every one of my own posts i have. then i'll use the "mass post editor" to add content warning tags. and add to queue, and shuffle. and then I write down what the date was for when I last added my posts to be reblogged on queue. this is helped by turning on timestamps for posts in tumblr "dashboard preferences" settings.

queueing is necessary and life saving for me. It takes out so much work with decision fatigue and the anxiety around posting. It also guarantees that even if I suddenly need time off or away from my phone, I don't just disappear and lose all traction. It also breaks the instant-gratification cycle that you expect when you finish an artwork. It's hard to keep creating when you post something and, when you're expecting to get that gratification, you get none... If you queue your new artwork to come out at a later time, you've separated that expectation - with time. It hurts less and contributes to a more consistent gratification thing instead of peaks and troughs.

~~~ tag ya stuff ~~~ when you're making a new post, the first 20 tags are what gets put into the searchable tags. do not feel shame for using lots of tags. shame is the mind-killer. tags are hard. hard to know what to tag a post with. hard to remember the tags. so I found some ways to help myself. maybe they'll help you too. dedicate some time towards just figuring out what tags you want to use. i have a list in my phone notes that i add tags to and reference whenever i'm making a new post. i have the phone right beside the laptop while i'm tagging so that i can just look at it and scroll. tags are the only way for people to find your artwork, other than people manually coming to your blog because they saw you somewhere. there is no algorithm. posting without tags, until you have an established fanbase, is throwing something into the void.

When I'm doing tag research, I look at what people seem to use - when you put something in the search bar, tumblr recommends you some that have a higher following, typically. Looks like this on desktop:

if you like one tag, look at what other people who use that tag also tag their posts with. Observe and learn how this tag is used. search through a bunch of them and write them down.

here's what i got in my notes, for the specific kind of art I post and look for:

these tags are sort of specific to me and the kind of art I make. You'll want to research your own tags, but this is an example of how I keep them organized to make posting more effective. I generally only write down a tag when it's got more than 2k followers. You might be tempted to use the tags with millions of followers, but I've actually found those a lot less functional for small artists. If your stuff doesn't immediately get a bunch of notifications, you're drowned out and pushed to the bottom much faster. But the bigger tags are better than no tags, so I keep them if I can't think of anything else to tag something with.

~~~ post at the right times….? ~~~

fridays and saturdays is when I post fresh new things... usually. every website has it's own peak hours, and you can find those hours in many different online articles that try to sell you social media growth services. tumblr is unique in having later hours.

here's some random graph from google images:

please don't over think this. please don't let this consume the idea of when to post, preventing you from posting at all. it doesn't mean too much - if you post during very active hours, maybe your art would just be pushed down the feed faster. if you post at the end of hours, maybe everyone's going to sleep… if you post at inactive hours, maybe there's less 'competition'… if you post at the beginning of active hours, maybe that's just more time for your post to circulate for the day, if you have enough people reblogging it once it drops....

this also is in EST. So fuck the other time zones, I guess. I'm over here in europe knowing that the "best" time to post would be like 2-3am or something. It's like this for most english-speaking majority sites - higher traffic in north american time zones.

it's also worth mentioning that this is scattered as heck, compared to other social media sites. and it's not like, the activity times of your followers. it's not the best time to post for your niche. this is just tumblr, broadly. all of tumblr.

~~~ Plan ahead for annual dates ~~~

Your artwork will get more circulation if it's posted on a celebratory day. You could just put them on your calendar and if you're wondering what to make, look on the calendar for what's coming soon. For example, asexual awareness day, trans day of visibility, location-specific holidays, etc. Here's my phone notes thing with my own recorded annuals:

I got these dates from googling and reading different articles, but I find that I still miss dates, and then I add them for next year. If you know of some I missed, tell me and I'll add them please <3

~~~ reblog other people's stuff ~~~

tumblr is sorta about ecosystems. things get passed around within groups of people that are all following eachother. to enter this ecosystem, you must engage and reblog other people's stuff too.

if you reblog other artists' stuff, sometimes they'll come over and reblog your stuff too. sometimes they'll follow you back. this is called becoming a mutual. I'll search specific tags for the kinds of people I want to follow and the kind of art I like - those are listed in the screenshot of my tag note under "Tags for finding new people".

I see a lot of blogs out there that are very clean, posts are tagless, and are only for the artists' content. like scrolling through a portfolio. I imagine this is good for people who are migrating to tumblr but already have their own established fanbase from elsewhere.

you don't need to do reblog other people's stuff on your art blog, you can do this on a separate blog. but if the two don't look very closely correlated, it's hard to tell who you are when you're interacting. and hard to make sure people know that you are the same person as your art blog. and you gotta remember to promote yourself on your personal blog.

~~~ have an art tag ~~~

make your blog easy to search!

if i go to your blog, and you've written 'artist' or 'sometimes art' in your bio, i wanna see it… it make me so sad when i don't get to see it. i want to reblog it. please let me reblog it :(

to make a tag on your own blog searchable, you don't need to repost it to add a tag. you don't even need to reblog it. you can actually just go back to the original post and edit it to add your tag. I've seen post people just have their art tag be something like #(blogname)art . you can see my own in my tags image above. if it's very unique, then it'll work tumblr-wide. I think that's good, since the tumblr search function is really weird. Otherwise it should still work if it's not entirely unique, people just have to make sure they're searching specifically your blog to see only your stuff.

I like to have a link in my pinned post where people can click to have immediately searched for my art tag. Convenience is king. Keep in mind that most people are on mobile, and if something isn't immediately clickable, they often won't find it.

~~~ be consistent and be patient ~~~

!!!this time will pass anyway!!! how many notes you have is not correlated with how good you are as an artist. wanting to earn something from your art means you essentially have two jobs. two potentially full time jobs. this shit's difficult. most of the job is promoting yourself. don't undersell how hard it is to do… don't feel bad for not immediately succeeding. I would write about how hard it's been to promote myself, but it would just be long and sad I think.

This isn't a full guide, please feel free to add more!!

I'm sure in another year I'll disagree with a lot of this, it will become irrelevant with time, and I'll have a lot of different opinions. Chip in and share what you've been doing? Teach me? This is very overwhelming. Don't do it all at once, just like, try one thing at a time, and see how it works for you. Your niche might be different. One size does not fit all. If you're confused about some of the things I talk about in here, you might be on mobile. I do most of my queueing and posting from the desktop browser version.

I will update this with more as things change, but I think you'll have to click through to see the updated post

#pinned #beginner artist #small artist #queer artist #trans artist #artists on tumblr #artist support #artistsupport #new artist #art blog #art on tumblr #lgbt artist #lgbtq artist

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andiftheycare · 23 days ago

Text

AU where Suguru’s an overworked salaryman and Satoru keeps stealing his umbrellas as a bad attempt at flirting.

Or the you swan he frog meme but make it a fic

☂️ Part one here, and also on twt

☂️ Part two point one here, and on twt. Part two point two here.

Notes: I resisted posting this bit because I wanted one scene TM to be part of this update. However, this is now 2k so it's too long for a tumblr post so the scene I wanted will be in the next update (I'll try to update every Sunday moving forward!). More romancing and more umbrellas to come. If you like this and you'd like to be friends do interact!! let's be friends!! also as usual it's highly unedited etc will be edited once it's on AO3.

Tags to be aware of: AU, squint and it’s a reincarnation au (more on this soon), office AU, pals I think this will be tagged "Mature" for part 5 :D

☂️☂️☂️☂️☂️

“Are you looking for a date?”

Mimiko sits in front of him, hands clasped on the table, while Nanako nods next to her, posture more lax but expression less open. Suguru is hit by the memory of his parents sitting him down and trying to convince him to attend a couple of omiai.

The picture’s so close it makes him smile.

“We know, like, you’re not old old.” Nanako says, heavily implying Suguru’s next to pension age. “And we talked about it.”

“You… talked about it?”

They exchange a glance. Brief. Quick. Suguru knows what it means when they team up like that. They’re up to mischief.

“We made a list of people you could date.” Nanako continued, opening her notes app but not showing her screen. “Because you can do better than that—“

“Put that on your umbrella,” Mimiko concludes, palms now open, legs uncrossed. “It’s very…”

Where Mimiko aims, Nanako shoots “Lame.”

Drop dead silence follows, while Suguru struggles, briefly, to connect the dots, until his most recent sticker comes to mind, and he thinks that idiot. Printing shit like that and having his way with Suguru’s possessions.

“I’m not interested in dating,” Suguru explains, well knowing he’s losing so many points in the eyes of his once doting daughters “It’s to deter criminals from —“

“You know, most of my friends think you’re hot.” Nanako grits that through her teeth, disgust seething from her words. She moves a hand around her face, then “They’d steal your umbrella just to find in you the love of their life.”

“That’s… concerning.”

Mimiko nods. “We don’t want to pressure you, but we thought…”

“If you’re not, like, finding someone because…”

Another glare is exchanged. This time they slightly bow their heads, and Suguru straightens up on his chair, offers them a smile but doesn’t reach to caress their heads. They don’t like that anymore.

“It’s not because of you.”

The twins’ shoulders reflexively drop.

“Now, have you finished packing?”

☂️☂️☂️☂️☂️

The flat is eerily quiet for the rest of the weekend. Mostly, Suguru spends it catching up on some sleep, trying to ignore how tense he feels, how tired he still is after he wakes up in the afternoon to an empty stomach.

Despite the spasming requests of his body, though, he can’t seem to keep anything in, the nausea coaxing him into fasting after a few bites of anything that isn’t plain.

Suguru doesn’t mind it.

That’s part of his summer routine, getting asphyxiated by the city heat so much to the point his body rejects nourishment. He’ll get over it soon.

What’s new it’s the lingering taste of rotten food he awakens to in the morning. It’s worse when he dreams, which is happening with unexpected frequency, and which leaves him in a bizarre state of nostalgia, despite Geto not remembering much of it.

So he sits on the floor of his living room on Saturday night, an untouched open beer in front of him - admittedly, a bad idea - and a couple of texts from Mimiko and Nanako, going through the basic yeah we arrived safely, grandad’s fine but grandma says he needs to get his eyes checked, connection’s terrible as usual.

Have fun, Geto types back, and saves for himself the promises he can’t keep, like, I’ll come with you next year, or I’ll make it to the summer festival next weekend.

Mimiko and Nanako spend most of their summer holidays with their grandparents in the house where Suguru grew up. It’s near where the twins were born, too, so they can visit their parents’ grave and enjoy those seasonal friendships that last less than a month, but seem to revamp with the same strength every time they are reunited. Mostly, they can have someone around rather than rot in their city flat, and enjoy some breeze and fresh watermelon and nights full of stars.

Suguru hasn’t been back in years. Not properly, anyway. The summer’s also one of his busiest times at work.

His phone lights up —

stuck at the airport

It’s so boring

Send help

— and he watches the succession of texts populating his screen.

After unlocking it, Suguru’s also met with a selfie of Gojo resting his chin on his hand, disgust written all over his face, shades resting on the top of his nose.

They canceled my flight

I can’t do anything about it

Can you, like, come and pick me up?

Gojo sends his location. He’s pinned somewhere far south.

On what, a giant flying dragon?

Do you have one?

Don’t be ridiculous

Suguru takes a sip while Gojo types. The electric fan on the tatami barely moves hot air around him. There’s a memory that isn’t his in his mind, of a younger Gojo lying in front of a fan, moaning, asking Suguru to make it stop, use your weather curse or something, please, Suguru, please and Geto frowns at his fan, at the phone and the open can and then the memory is gone. The absence in the room takes roots in him.

(“Take off your clothes. That’ll make you feel better.”

“Take them off me yourself, you coward.”)

So short fun story which isn’t neither short nor fun is I’m here for a work gig and there’s a storm

Can’t book a hotel because they’re all full

Can’t go home because now home is terminal 5

Not thinking, Suguru calls him. If he they have to keep texting, he might as well —

“Satoru.”

“Suguru?”

“Don’t sound so surprised.”

A breath. Another one. How close is his phone to his mouth? “Well, if this isn’t a fun development.”

“It’s just a phone call.”

“Suguru.”

“Uhm?”

“So are we on a first name basis now?”

Suguru hangs up. Gojo sends him a voice note that’s just him laughing, then video calls him. Suguru should probably take that as a cue to go to sleep at a normal hour, instead of entertaining the maniac on the other side of the country.

“What?” Gojo prods closer to the camera as if that could get him closer to Geto. “Are those earrings?”

☂️☂️☂️☂️☂️

Nothing gets stolen on Monday. There are now two evil curses protecting his umbrella, on top of the Omamori.

Maybe that’s the answer. The blessing doesn’t have to counterbalance evil energy; it has to be outnumbered by it. Maybe his grandma would’ve had an opinion on that power imbalance, too.

Yuki, for sure, has one “Oh, are you looking for a special someone?”

She catches him as they enter the building and he’s closing the umbrella, “Or are you craving crab?”

Politely, Suguru smiles at her as they walk to the elevator “You never told me what’s your type.”

“Because that’s unprofessional to ask.”

They press the floor button on the elevator. Yuki leans on the mirror, folding her arms “Well, you know how it is. They keep denying that promotion because you don’t have a family.”

Geto likes Yuki. In the measure where you can like your manager and work well with them and respect the trajectory of their careers. And he knows she’s right, that having two children helped him immensely in progressing, that getting a partner would grant him access to better insurance, a better job, because if you have to provide for a family, then, you need more money. They’re a traditional company after all.

And Geto isn’t old. But when he’ll be in his thirties, he’ll get pushed into marriage by the higher-ups. Those are the rules. Yuki is, once again, doing the company’s bids.

And she’s right. Geto hates her for it.

“You aren’t married either.”

“I’m a woman,” Yuki says, the elevator going up and up “I wouldn’t be here if I was.”

Geto shakes his head. “How’s that fair?”

A grin. “Get a wife already.”

The doors open. “You sound like my dad.”

“I’ll set you up.”

“Now you sound like my mum.”

“Smart woman.”

Suguru lets the conversation go as he mostly does when Yuki’s chatter derails, before she gets back into work mode and disappears into a string of endless meetings.

And so the week begins again. Not that Geto remembers the week before, or the one before that. It’s interesting what stress does to your brain, how the repetition of an endless circle of moments stretched to be all the same can deeply mess you up. Yet Suguru’s pass the phase of worrying about the blurred lines of his job - he just does it. He knows that his actions in that building have no meaning in the real world if not enriching the rich, or pleasing some of his bosses, or fattening his bonuses. The latest he can’t complain about, really.

But he doesn’t even sleep at his house, most days, and weekends are for recovering and spending time with his daughters and skimming through the upstanding admin, so it’s hard, sometimes, to remember he’s a person.

Because that requires energy the same way that excitement and joy and anger do, and he’s saving all the bits of it he has to be a decent person when he can.

So he doesn’t date — doesn’t have the time to — and whenever he wants to fuck he can find someone. He can always find someone. Again, another thing that requires a fully functioning brain, another thing he doesn’t miss, that he doesn’t think about much.

Unexpectedly, he looks at his umbrella, tucked next to his drawers. How silly it is, the whole thievery thing, how it annoys him in a way that’s out of proportion, because that’s what happens to your feelings when you don’t feel them — once they’re out, they’re out in a big way. How, though, there’s something tucked in his anger. There’s

A message pops up.

You don’t need to return the suit

I take you’re back.

Did you miss me?

Suguru turns his phone so the screen’s facing down, a smile cracking on his face. Nanami stares suspiciously at him for the rest of the day.

☂️☂️☂️☂️☂️

“You’re weird.”

Suguru puffed out a cloud of white smoke. Nanami shakes his head, “I didn’t know you could smile.”

“That’s rude.”

Nanami shrugs “Didn’t know you could smile and mean it.”

“Didn’t know you cared.”

“No one should be that miserable for their job.” He says, with an unflinching expression.

“You don’t smile much either.”

“I never feel particularly inclined to smile at you, senpai.”

☂️☂️☂️☂️☂️

The neighborhood gets quiet past ten at night. When the other salary men hit the karaoke rooms and the company drinks and runs home, Yuki abandons the office with a “Go home, Suguru!” and a cigarette already between her lips, lights flickering above her head.

And with that, the office floor’s quiet, and Geto knows that at some point around that time, Gojo will be browsing the sweet section of the downstairs Konbini, mistaking sugar for nutrition.

“It keeps me awake,” he says once to him, distractedly. “The taste’s better than coffee.”

Geto disagrees, says he’s stupid, says he needs to sleep, and that’s a weird memory to have, because while that one’s real – Geto lived that conversation and stole Gojo’s last gummy from his packet – it also feels like part of multiple conversation they had in a past life.

Another thing Suguru doesn’t believe in.

He stretches and looks at his screen’s clock, and gets some more work in. He wants that promotion without marrying, which is why he’ll spend July living in the office, clean clothes stocked up in his locker so he can stop going back home. Hopefully his shirts won’t get too crumpled.

For a second, he thinks about Gojo’s suit hanging in his wardrobe. After all, he might need to go back to his apartment for it.

“Have you lost weight?” Gojo blinks at him from behind his shades.

Geto unwraps his plain onigiri, sitting down. The rain hits the plastic covering them in the outside sitting area of the convenience store. Gojo leans closer, face scrunching and eyes squinting “Like, why are you barely eating your —“

With a gesture that comes with ease, Suguru places the palm of his hand on Satoru’s chest and pushes him back on the chair. Suguru takes him on, from the way his forehead relaxes to the long second he spends looking at Suguru’s hand moving away, and he feels warm. He wants to know what else he’d let his hands do to him.

Suguru clears his throat. “I haven’t.”

Gojo leans back, legs open and hands in his pockets, “You like soba, right?”

It’s his favourite dish. Suguru, however, hasn’t told him that. “Like, in general?”

Satoru nods. “There’s a restaurant ten minutes from here. If you, uhm, fancy a real meal. It’s open all night”

“Stop hitting on me.”

Satoru grins “Thought you liked it.”

“In your dreams.”

At that, Gojo falters. So unlike him. So unlike the fragments of the boy that visits his sleep. Suguru stops chewing, his stomach grumbling in displeasure.

“What if you do like it? In my dreams, I mean.”

Throat tight, Suguru follows the movement of Gojo’s lips, drops of rain hitting the asphalt, Gojo’s brief silence rendered inaudible. “Do you dream of me often?”

There’s something unsaid, because Suguru dreams of him every night. When he closes his eyes, he sees blue ones smiling at him and feels sand under his toes. He doesn’t know how it makes him feel, having all that knowledge about a version of Gojo Satoru who doesn’t exist.

“What if,” Satoru breathes, a sly grin thinning his lips “What if you were younger in my dreams?”

“How much younger?”

“Seventeen.”

Suguru halts. Gojo hides behind his glasses, which are square and not round today. “That’s young.”

“You have shorter hair, too.”

“Weirdly specific.”

The grin smothens into a smile. “And bigger earrings.”

The onigiri lies abandoned on a piece of paper. The air is muddy and warm, and Suguru’s shirt sticks to him like a second skin. Instinctively, he touches his naked lobes. Earrings are not part of his company’s dress code. "Interesting."

“But,” Satoru says, looking up to the rain, “I don’t get to see much of you as you are now, in those dreams.”

“What?”

“It’s weird, isn’t it? Like I don’t know what you looked like in high school. I bet you had acne.”

“I never had acne.”

“Liar.”

Suguru breaths in. “What’s your point?”

“Why don’t I dream of you?” Satoru relents, as if annoyed. “Why do I dream of this teenager I don’t know?”

Suguru’s mouth grows dry, at that, heartbeat jumping in his ears. He’s dizzy. “Soba, uhm?”

Satoru’s knees jerk up. “What does it have to do with –”

“I think I might want to grab some. If you want to...”

Gojo’s on his feet before Geto can finish his sentence, mood shifted into something bright, and for now, Geto doesn’t need his dreams to tell him how to feel about this aggravating man.

#jujutsu kaisen #jjk #gojo satoru #geto suguru #stsg #satosugu #gego #stsg fanfic #satosugu fanfic #ao3 fanfic #fanfic #jjk fanfic #stsg brainrot #stsg: tongue tied #五夏

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dontspillthefrijoles43 · 3 months ago

Text

What he thinks vs what she knows (Drabble)

Word count: 2k-ish

Warnings: self image, insecurities, internalize racism, self esteem issues, sappy lovers, teenagers being teenagers

(A/N: Had this saved up in my drafts, figured I post it since I’m still editing and getting ready for more Chispo and bruja content. Y’all are surviving a drought so I figured you’d like to get scraps 😭 you can see this as chipso y bruja canon? Uncanny? Maybe another au who knows? 🤔 I know I’m literally the author of this fanfic Anyways Thinking abt making a tag list for when I post so lemme know if you want to be tagged. Til the come get ya scraps! This one an agnsty one)

Leo thinks he’s ugly.

He thinks it has to do with his frame. It’s too scrawny and weak. Not enough muscle, like the rest of his siblings who buff up endlessly. Or the Ares kids who have chiseled abs. He doesn’t even have the height to gain such strength. Or the right body fat percentage.

Maybe he’s ugly because he doesn’t have wavy hair like a Greek should. He has tight curls that seem to go everywhere, never in one place. Messy and kinky in all directions. No one ever seems to notice when it’s comb and neat.

His skin can be the reason why he’s ugly. It’s not perfectly pure white. And it’s not just the right olive tan. He’s dark that awful awful color— Moreno feo! His aunt would hiss at him. As if she wasn’t the same color.

Or could it be his scars? They’re littered onto his body jagged and spread over his arms and hands. Not to mention the disfigured tissue from the left of his face and downwards, all red-brown burns spread over him.

If none of those things prove that he’s ugly, then maybe his face will.

He doesn’t have a strong chiseled jaw, even after puberty, it’s still soft with some baby fat. Except for his way too pointed chin. The smile he paints on, definitely crooked and awkward; not perfectly straight shining white teeth.

Lips are usually chapped, because he kind of sucks at self-care. Proof by all his acne scars over his cheeks. Besides his weird moles. And who can forget the weak peach fuzz placed on his upper lip. Upwards his small, wide, and awkwardly squished nose.

Above that is not sky blue or green or any other unique color— but his dirt-ugly brown eyes, baggy from his lack of sleep some days, and way too thick eyebrows.

The worst part of it all, is his pointy ears. They stuck out enough to notice. The first thing people would see. They were stupidly pointy. And ultimately what Leo was most known for:

Fuckin hobbit

Elf

Troll

Imp

Mexican Spock he didn’t even like Star-trek!

The list just goes on.

All these things make Leo thinks he’s ugly. Bullies and ex-infatuations have been sure to let him know it.

So to himself — Leo’s ugly.

—

Breisa loves Leo. She loves how he makes her feel. And how he cares. Or how he shows his love. She loves the warmth he brings. The dizziness she feels when she’s with him. He never fails to make laugh. Or her feel any less important, more than just his girlfriend. His compliment. Not his missing piece.

But one thing that irks her, is how he can’t see himself in the same light as she sees him. He doesn’t love himself the way he loves her. It hurts to see that.

Breisa wanted him to be able to have the self confidence in himself. He’s so smart, sweet, funny, strong, handsome, and caring but in his charming way. Despite how awkward or weird he could be which she had to admit was also cute he was charming in his own little way.

Hopefully her plan was the best way to show him.

“Come on!” Breisa smiles and dragged Leo from behind, “Ya llegamos!”

“Alright alright—stump!” Leo tripped and face planted into the dirt. “Ow.” His voice went small.

“Oh my bad.” She winced, helping him up. Dusting off his clothes from the dirt. “Didn’t mean to get so excited.”

He spit grass out his mouth, “No worries, cariño.”

He wipes off the dirt with a bandanna from his back pocket.

“It’s not like that I can get any less dirt-ugly” Leo laughed.

Breisa frowned at that. “Let's just keep going.”

Then she pushed through an overgrown bush, leaving him confused.

‘She always laughs at my jokes…’ Leo thought to himself; anxiously fiddling with his silver ring he made out of metal scraps and pennant washers.

“Leo, apurate!” Breisa called.

He shaked his head and breathed in, ‘Worryin’, over nothing. No seas pendejo.’

Trudging forward he pushes through the leaves, trying not to get smacked by branches and vines.

As he stumbled out— almost face plant again when Breisa caught his arm.

“Careful.” She smiled down at him.

“Ya sabe.” Leo rolled his eyes playfully. “Why are we here?”

All she does is point with her lips— forwards.

As Leo glanced over, his eyes caught where the rocks met a grassy field. Overlooking the underside of a hill.

A fuzzy rose-patterned blanket laid out, a picnic basket holding it in place. Next to the basket was a sketchbook, pencils, and a little radio. And the view of Camp-Half-blood spread out below them. From the Strawberry fields to lava rock climbing wall.

“Woah.” He breathed. “Did you—?”

“Yup.” Breisa grinned.

“Picnic date—?”

“Uh-huh.” She answered.

“For me—?”

“Yes.” Breisa huffed jokingly. “Siéntate, lindo. No te preocupes por nada.” She plopped down and patted the spot next to her.

“Bossy.” Leo sticks his tongue but laid back into the blanket.

She mimicked his face. “Whatever. Since I’m so bossy, I guess all these tortas and Capri-suns should be for myself.”

He popped an eye open. “Tortas with ham, chips, and cheddar cheese? Topped off with tapatío?”

“My speciality.” She started digging from the picnic basket. “But guess you don’t want some. Cause I’m so bossy.”

“Espérate.” He sat up, “Sólo porque eres así— I don’t have to die of hunger.”

“Nah, pero soy mandona.” She munched on the sandwich.

“Hey!” Leo jumped.“I want some!”

“No way!” Breisa pushed his face away. “I don’t want to annoy you. I’m mean and bossy so my food must be bad.”

“Awe come on, it's still editable!” He laughed.

“Now you really ain’t getting nothing!”

—

Leo sighed satisfied, laying back on the blanket.

“Guess my food was editable?” Breisa raised an eyebrow.

“It was alright, I guess.” He shrugged.

Breisa shook her head with disbelief. “Tell that to the four tortas, bowl of fresas, and endless capri-suns.”

“No te oyes. Sugar crash. So sleepy.” Leo closed his eyes.

Breisa rolled her eyes. Flicked his forehead. Then pulled her sketchbook onto her lap. Without even thinking she began to sketch a picture of him.

Pages and pages of Leo began to fill her sketchbook, it’s become a habit of her to have at least one drawing of him in each. Always having three hearts or a little flame next to each sketch.

Before, she would have never admitted having these drawings of him. Only because it would inflate his gaintanic ego. Leo being Leo, he would have something annoying to say.

Now even she knows that it was his way of saying— ‘I like you a lot. I just say stupid stuff because it’s easier to get your attention.’

It doesn’t make him less annoying, even as her significant other.

“What are you drawing?” Leo suddenly appeared beside her.

After her surprise wore down. She traced her pencil idly and muttered, “You.”

Leo stared at her for a good long minute before bursting into laughter.

“Why are you laughin’?” She flushed, feeling a little embarrassed.

He calmed down and smiled. “It’s nothing— just..” He snorted again, looking at himself, “Why do I look like that?”

“Like what?” Breisa asked.

“Like all majestic and shit.” He waved his hands. “I ain’t that good looking. Or you know a profound art subject.” Leo rubbed his neck awkwardly with half of a smile on his face. “I’m just me, heh you know?”

Breisa put her sketchbook down, inhaled deeply, anf faced him. “Eres tan pendejo.”

“Say what now?” He raised an eyebrow.

“You. Are. Stupid.” She said slowly. “You aren’t just whatever Leo. I draw how I see it. You’re cute, handsome, and freakin pretty. That’s why you’re my favorite muse.”

Leo’s face burned…And so did his hair.

Breisa reached up, pinched a curl between her fingers. It fsss as the flame went out.

Leo cleared his throat, and swatted at the rest of his hair. “No way I’m that good looking. I’m sure there are other better people to be your muse. You must be blinded by love.”

“I’m not blinded by nothin’.” Breisa fussed. “You just can’t and refuse to see what I see.”

He looked at her like she was crazy. “See what? Fuck up half-melted ugly troll goblin thing—who shares no light to a girl like you?!”

She grabbed the sides of his face and made contact with his coffee brown eyes. Gods she melted when the sun made them glow. He automatically shut up any protest he had.

Breisa brushed her thumb over his jaw, right at the scar.“I see a scrawny mofo with big beautiful brown eyes. A sideways smile that makes my heart flip. All wrapped up in that pretty face of his. Soft curls I can play with all day. Cute ears that get all red when I compliment him.

Hard working hands, that I can trace very dent and curve with my fingers. Strong arms that hold me in warm embrace. Just the right height so I don’t have to snap my neck up to look at.

Goofball pyromaniac but somehow suave n romantic. That knows everything about me, cares for me, and loves me.

And even though he thinks he’s the scum of the earth. A monster burned with his scars in and out. Or is undeserving of love because of some bullshit and stupid unworthy people from the past. They’re wrong. Cause to me, querido, you are the best person to ever walk into my life. And melt my heart.”

Then Breisa planted her lips on him with tenderness, her hand on his chest, and moving another hand from his jaw to his curls.

Leo squeaked and brain short-circuited. Half of it was racing with thoughts while the other half went numb. ‘Do something idiot!’ His brain finally scolded. Arms wrapped around her waist and he sighed against her lips.

When she pulled away, his lips still tingled pleasantly. Just like every other kiss they shared.

Then she looked at him with so much love and admiration. He nearly cried.

But he shook himself out of love-sickness and gave her a deadpan look.

“Ok, you really gotta stop kissing me without warning.” Leo huffed, swatting his hair which was probably on fire. Again.

Breisa snickered at him.

“En serio.” He empathized half-heartedly. “You realize how many times I’ve almost passed out? Or bursted into flames? I could’ve started a Forest fire.”

“Eh,” She shrugged, "It's worth it to see you get all flustered.” Then she squished his face, while cupping his jaw again. “I love this face. ¡Qué lindo! ¡Qué guapo! ¡Te adoro! ¡Te quiero, mi amorcito! Such a pretty boy, Mwah!”

She kissed all over his face dramatically. Extra affectionate on his scars.

“Stop.” Leo rolled his eyes. Yet, his big dumb grin that showed off his cute gap gave him away.

“Nah.” Breisa smiled just as stupid, “I am not done admiring. And I’m not done with my sketch.”

“Hmn. Guess I gotta keep being your muse.” Leo hummed leaning onto her palm.

“Guess you do.” She pecked him on the lips. “I’m going to make sure I get all of your beauty.”

“You know my face better than me.” Leo agreed and kissed her again…and again…and again.

—

After that he walked back to his cabin holding Breisa by the hand. Lipstick marks all over his face and the folded sketch in his pocket. Thinking maybe he wasn’t so ugly.

#leo valdez #hoo #heroes of olympus #lost hero #leo valdez x oc #the lost trio #spanish speaking oc #poc oc #fem!oc #latino oc #pjo tumblr #pjo hoo toa #leo valdez pjo #leo valdez angst #leo valdez x reader #all da ladies love leo #Breisa Alessandro

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