#and i said no no i don't think you're malicious i just think you're stupid and wildly misinformed | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

wolfiesmoon · 4 months

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Lockscreen background

Malleus x gn!reader

i seem to have a thing for characters who are clueless abt technology hahaha, this takes place before we actually find out his real name btw

(also i apologise if malleus is ooc in any way i'm still in the early books of the game😭)

"Hello." You heard a voice behind you as you exited the classroom. You turned around to find... uh, Hornton, was it? You still can't get over the stupid nickname that Grim picked, but he seems completely okay with you calling him that, so you keep doing it.

What could he possibly want with you?

"Uhh, hi...!" you greeted him back awkwardly.

"I have a somewhat trivial yet important matter I need help with." He opened and you tilted your head slightly. Now your interest is piqued.

"Let's go somewhere more... private." he suggested at your confused expression. You nodded slowly. Though this whole conversation is strange so far, he looks anything but malicious. And knowing him, he never is.

The two of you went to a more secluded part of the school and as soon as you got there, he pulled something out from his pocket, handing it to you. It looked to be a brand new phone.

"Could you help me with this object? I have no idea how to use it and you are the only one I can approach about this." he looked a little worried.

"Sure, what do you need help with?" you offered and his expression softened slightly.

"Turning it on, for starters."

A silence fills the room.

"Ahahahaha, oh jeez... I'm- I'm sorry- hahahaha...!" You couldn't help but laugh. He didn't even know how to turn it on?

Needless to say, he was not amused by your laughter. "If you will laugh at me, I will not be needing your help anymore." He crossed his arms.

"No- No- I'm sorry, I really am." You had to hold back a few giggles. "I'll help- I'll help you, you just shocked me with how little you know about a.. p-phone." He suddenly seemed like a 90 year old grandpa who bought a phone to talk to his grandkids and didn't know the first thing about it. What a funny mental image.

"You're talking strangely." He commented, and you quickly turned the phone in his direction before he could question your attempts at stifling a laugh.

"Here, see this button? You press it and the phone turns on, like this." You demonstrated, and his face lit up.

"I see. But, the salesperson informed me that this phone is unlockable by something called 'Face ID' as well. Do you know what that is by any chance?" The genuine interest in his voice was actually kind of cute.

"Don't worry about all that. Actually, why are you buying a phone only now?" You thought it was strange. If he was this clueless about technology, why buy a modern cellphone all of a sudden?

"During class, some of my classmates were discussing about these so called phones. They talked about something called a 'magicam'. And I... became curious." the little pause at the third sentence made you think that might just not be the full truth. But you have no reason to be suspicious or question him on it, so you just told yourself to forget about it.

"Magicam might be a little too... advanced for you right now. Here, let's start by exchanging contacts." You showed him the 'contacts' app, opening it and inputting your number and your name.

You handed the phone back to him. "Here, now press this green button on the bottom left and you'll call me." he did as you instructed and your phone started vibrating in your pocket. You pulled it out, answering the call.

"Hello!" you said cheerfully.

"I can... hear you twice. Is there magic imbued within a phone?" his eyes were widened slightly, even more so when he heard his own voice from your phone.

"You silly goose, we only hear eachother twice because we're standing right next to eachother. Stay here and place the phone next to your ear, okay?" you smiled at him, walking away.

"I am not silly and I am certainly not a goose. I thought it was obvious enough by taking once glance at me."

"It's not an insult, Hornton. It's like a silly little thing you say to someone when they say something, well, silly." you smile, now completely out of his line of sight and standing in a different room.

After a few moments of silence, he spoke again "I can still hear your voice."

"Yup, that's what a phone is, in essence. Nowadays we use it for a lot of things, but basically, you can call people on it and you'll hear their voice and talk to them, no matter how far away from you they are. Isn't that cool?"

"How very fascinating." you could hear his amusement through the phone.

"Oh, I just have one more thing to do! I'll come back in a moment!" you ended the call, running back to where you were before.

"I got suprised for a moment. The phone made a strange noise and I couldn't hear you anymore." he cleared his throat. He must have panicked a bit when you hung up. How cute. "Calling someone is definitely much more convenient than sending them a letter."

You just realised that he's probably been sending physical, handwritten letters to everyone up until this point which makes him even more charmingly old-timey in your eyes. How funny is that?

"Give the phone here for a moment." you requested and when he did so, you opened the camera app and turned it towards the two of you to take a selfie. You could see him inspect himself through the phone.

"I see, so it functions as a mirror, too. What a marvel."

"Well, do I have news for you. This is the camera app, and we're going to take a photo together. Now smile!" you nudged him slightly and he smiled very awkwardly and unnaturally. Oh well, you'll take it.

You snapped the photo, setting it as his lockscreen.

"Here, now you have a photo of me and you as your background!" he took the phone back, staring at your face on the screen.

"I actually have something I have to be doing right now, so I'll continue teaching you about phones later! Call me if you need anything! Oh, and I'll save your number too, don't worry!" You waved to him, running down the hallway.

"Goodbye." he said back, immediately looking back down at your picture with him. Your face is truly precious in it. He is very glad to be in possession of a photo of you.

He knew you were the right person to ask.

The reason he decided to buy a phone was that he felt sad because he couldn't talk to anyone without a disconnect. Ignoring the fact that most of his classmates are afraid of him, they wouldn't be able to find common ground in hobbies and conversation topics regardless.

So he thought that maybe he could start by getting a phone upon hearing students discuss phone cases and the like. Surely, understanding what the masses currently enjoy would make him more approachable.

He is eternally thankful to you for helping him out.

You're very welcoming to him and that makes him indescribably happy. One day he'll repay you with all the things you could ever want. He has the abilities to do that, after all.

Maybe he should give you something as a thank you next time you meet, actually. What did you say you enjoyed again?

That's what he thought about as he looked at his lockscreen on his bed that night. If only you saw the way he smiled at your photo.

#˗ˏˋ ★ ♡ 「Wolfie’s other works」 ♡ ★ ˎˊ˗#i swear i love the other boys too i just keep getting ideas for these three specifically 😔#twisted wonderland x yuu #twisted wonderland x reader #twisted wonderland #twst x y/n #disney twst #twst x reader #twst x you #twst x yuu #twst x mc #malleus x yuu #malleus draconia #malleus x reader #malleus x y/n #malleus draconia x reader #malleus draconia x yuu #malleus draconia x mc

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bayjaruchel · 6 months

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Whammy Kiss Me (Whammy Hug)

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Pairing: Clapton Davis/AFAB Reader

Rating: Explicit

Summary: Maybe Seven Minutes in Heaven isn't a pointless party game, after all. (3.9k | originally posted on ao3 | Masterlist )

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It's not until the closet door shuts that you realize the gravity of your current situation.

You've been at the party for at least a couple of hours; you've grown used to the general noise. The slight haziness of the air. You're not quite hammered yet, but you've got one or two drinks in your system. Just enough that you can enjoy the feeling without worrying about the hangover tomorrow. Judging by the way that a couple of people had been giggling and swaying, not everyone who was sitting around the circle shared your sense of self-conservation.

Although it hadn't been the brightest outside— it was dim, but also somewhat illuminated at the same time with the neon lighting— the single lightbulb hanging above your heads doesn't do much against the darkness.

Yeah. Heads, plural.

Luckily, there's only one person in the cramped space besides yourself.

Unluckily, that person is one Clapton Davis.

It's not that you don't like him. Actually, you feel the exact opposite towards him, but that's not the point. It's just that— you know, you could spend seven minutes just sitting in silence, doing absolutely nothing— but you're suddenly hyper-aware of the way your knees are brushing. The way there's something in the air. Maybe you're just imagining it, but there's something … restless. Something like—

Your thoughts are abruptly interrupted when he speaks.

"So," he says, casually. As if you're not within necking distance in a cramped space. "You enjoying the party?" There's that same easy grin on his face. He's completely at ease, apparently. You're not sure if that's because of his ever-present (and sometimes misguided) confidence, or because he's used to stupid little party games like this. It's probably a combination of both.

"Yeah." You find yourself replying, almost on autopilot. "The punch isn't as bad as I thought it would be."

Clapton honest-to-god giggles at that. "It's still pretty shitty, though."

"I wouldn't say shitty."

"Awful, then." He raises his eyebrows. "Let's just say that it's an … acquired taste."

You can't help but smile. "Fair." He's right— you're pretty sure that the only people who actually enjoy it are the people who regularly attend these parties. Said people usually just come to get drunk, anyway, and the punch works wonders. Magically malicious.

"It's either that or cheap beer," he muses. "Or wine busted from mommy and daddy's fridge in the basement."

"Expensive wine?"

"Could be." Clapton shrugs, pulling his knees closer to his chest. You try in vain not to focus on his arms as he wraps them around his legs. Was it really necessary to wear the tank top? "Maybe," he says. "But I doubt that anyone here would wanna drink it."

You unconsciously mirror his posture. "Why's that?"

He snorts. "Too classy."

It sort of makes sense. You can't really see Josh from Calculus sipping a glass of pinot noir, much less enjoying it. Maybe one has to start from the bottom of the hypothetical alcohol pyramid and work their way up. The bottom, meaning Bud Light. Or Coors Light. All of the Lights.

"Cheap beer it is, then."

Clapton's grin is back.

"Unfortunately."

You're starting to relax, even if you can still feel your heart pounding whenever his eyes meet yours. Even if your eyes are lingering. When he reaches up to idly run his fingers through his hair, you can't stop yourself from wondering: is it as soft as it looks?

"How much time d'you think we have left?" He asks, just as you're attempting to reel yourself back in.

"Uh," you start. Nice. "I don't know— maybe, like, four minutes or so?" Spending a couple of minutes talking about drinks wasn't exactly the plan, but you're not exactly complaining. It's still better than awkward silence. You wonder— again— about how many times he's done this before. How long does it usually take before people give in?

The muffled music from outside has been reduced to just the thumping of the bass, and the rhythm matches your pulse.

"Four minutes," he echoes.

You can't hold his gaze, glancing down at your knees instead.

"Yeah."

You can tell when Clapton adjusts himself where he's sitting, but you have a feeling that he hasn't looked away. Not yet.

"What do you wanna do now?" He asks, innocently. "Four minutes is a long time."

When you look up, you're proven right. The faint glow of the light doesn't hide anything. It just makes everything feel vaguely dreamlike. And, okay. This is pretty cliche. But you've watched too many movies, seen too many shows— you know what that look is. That look doesn't mean that he wants to play rock-paper-scissors for the remainder of your time left.

"I don't know," you manage. "What do you want to do?"

His eyes dip briefly before flicking back up.

"I was asking you," he teases softly. "We've already had a pointless conversation." He mimes checking a box midair with his pointer finger. "Check. And we've already sat in silence for a couple of seconds." He repeats the motion on another imaginary box. "Check."

"Oh, ouch. Talking about alcohol is pointless?" You're a little amused. "So, what's left on the list?"

Clapton raises his eyebrows again.

There's a shift in the air.

"C'mon, don't tell me that you actually don't know." His tone's dropped to little more than a whisper, but due to your closeness, you can hear him loud and clear. Your brief bit of confidence wanes— your face warms, and you pause. Sure, you're well aware of what he's implying— but you're not sure if he's just joking around or not. When has Clapton Davis ever been serious, besides that one time he competed in a skateboarding competition in the sixth grade?

The lighthearted lilt in his voice is almost gone, though.

"I know what you're trying to say," you finally reply, matching his volume. And you do want to kiss him. You really, really do.

"Okay," he murmurs in return. "Well, that's good." He dares to smile, though you know you're weak to it.

"I don't have to ask you out loud, right?"

He definitely already knows the answer to that question.

"Yeah, you don't."

You've tuned out the outside world, muffled as it already was. The music and noise fade to a quiet hum. You can hear the quiet buzz of the lightbulb— the barely audible clattering as your back moves against the uncomfortable storage shelves— the sound of his sneakers scuffing against the hardwood floor—

"But if I did ask," he says, uncharacteristically hesitant, "you'd say yes?"

Your heartbeat thrums in your throat.

The seconds tick by— you know you can't wait. It's been at least a minute and a half—

"Just do it," you breathe.

And he does.

The first thing you register is how soft his lips are. Then, his hands— cupping your face— your own hands reaching up to tangle in his hair, tugging him closer. His hair is as soft as it looks. There's no slow build-up because there's no time for that. All you can think about is him— the little sounds he lets out as you kiss, the way he can't wait when you part, his breath briefly coming in soft pants before he leans in to capture your lips again. He tastes vaguely like beer, and maybe that would have bothered you if it were any other guy— but with him, you don't really care at all. His nose presses a little awkwardly against yours a couple of times, but he makes up for it with how eager he is. You know he's not a bad kisser; he's just impatient.

You lose yourself for a little while. It feels like forever. You wrap your arms around his neck, reluctantly dropping your grip on his hair. His hands start to stray, one anchoring itself behind your neck and the other traveling lower. And lower—

There's a loud series of knocks at the door.

Clapton's slower to react, and you're the one to pull back first. When you do, he leans forward to chase your lips— but stops upon noticing your expression. In direct comparison to you, he just looks giddy. Almost dazed. His hair's a little disheveled from earlier, and he hasn't let go of you yet.

"Huh," he says, before the door is yanked open.

You're immediately greeted by exactly what you had expected. Whistles. Catcalls. General hooting. Some "called it!"s and "you owe me five bucks, man!"s.

Clapton just grins, reveling in it all. Because of course he would. But, before you can get too embarrassed, he's getting to his feet, pulling you along with him as you both exit the closet— exiting what had previously been your own little world. Instead of just rejoining the circle, like part of you expects him to do, he pauses to lean over to you and whisper:

"Wanna go upstairs?"

You blink at him. He's still smiling— he almost looks star-struck. You feel that familiar swoop in your stomach. Maybe it's a stupid decision that you'll regret later, but—

"Okay," you agree.

The whistling doesn't stop as he grabs your wrist, making a beeline for the stairs. The son of a bitch takes them two at a time, and you do your best to keep up. Upstairs, it's quieter than it is on the ground floor, since there are fewer people up here; still, though, you can hear the music echoing through the hallway. A girl's laughter rings out, followed by a string of giggles.

It's not very hard to find an empty bedroom. You gingerly shut the door behind you, taking a moment to look around. There are one or two posters here and there, and a few photos placed on the dresser. Other than that, it's kind of bare-bones. A guest room, maybe? You sure hope so. While you're distracted, Clapton leisurely sits down on the bed, bouncing a couple of times.

"Cozy," he remarks, and you turn to look at him.

"You think?"

He grins. "Sure do."

You sit next to him on the mattress. It's not bad. For a moment, he just looks at you. Taking you in.

But he doesn't hesitate much longer, and leans in. Automatically, you angle your head just so. Unlike before, he kisses you in small pecks at first. One of his hands finds your cheek. However, as the minutes draw by, your kisses grow longer. More languid. He hums into your mouth, and you move closer. Closer, until your thighs are brushing his, and you're nearly off-balance, but it's still not close enough.

He draws back. This close to him, you can pick out his freckles. His eyelashes are long, framing half-lidded eyes. His lips are still parted.

"Should I lay back?" He asks, hushed. "Or do you wanna—"

"Go ahead," you interrupt.

Clapton flops backward onto the pillows, wiggling around to make himself more comfortable. When you think he's got himself in a good position, you crawl over him. The way he looks up at you— it makes you a little lightheaded, but in the best way possible. His hands find your waist. You can do little but settle against him, pressing your lips to his for the nth time.

Enthusiastically, he responds, and it's not long before your kisses grow messier. Needier. His hands wander, moving down to rest on your hips, and then lower— you let out a gasp when he squeezes your ass, and he uses the opportunity to pull you harder against him. You're no stranger to how strong his arms are, but, yeah, being on top of him like this is an entirely new experience. He's soft and firm in equal measures, his chest sturdy where it's pressed against yours. His hands are warm when he moves them under your shirt, up your back, making you shiver.

Bracing your hands on his torso, you sit up. For a second, he's confused, but that quickly fades away as you reach down to pull up your shirt.

"Holy shit," he murmurs. He scrambles to discard his tank top too, yanking it over his head. You were right— he's toned, but there's still a fair bit of softness there. Of course his chest doesn't have any hair, but at least he kept the trail. You lay back on top of him, the feeling of his skin against yours like this causing you to shudder again. Clapton's hands start to explore once more— square palms, strong fingers. It must be a little bit of an uncomfortable stretch for him, but his thumbs find your nipples, tracing soft circles.

You briefly enjoy the sensation. Then, your breath stutters when he gently urges you forward and then leans up so he can take them into his mouth. It must be self-indulgent for him, too, because he spends more time than necessary— sucking, flicking his tongue— but it's not like you're complaining.

When he finally stops, he presses a kiss to the middle of your chest before laying back on the pillows. You move back down, and can't resist the urge to kiss him in return. His jaw— his cheek, which makes him smile. He's already started hooking his fingers in your waistband, and your mild surprise must show on your face, because he abruptly stops.

"Sorry," he grimaces, "am I going too fast? I - Is that too much?"

Hastily, you shake your head. "Oh, no. Not at all. It's fine. Just— it just caught me off-guard."

"Okay." The worry vanishes in an instant. "Okay, I'm gonna."

You let him slide down your bottoms, and then take them off the rest of the way yourself. His shorts quickly join the rest of the clothing on the floor. Now, you're more or less sitting in his lap— he props himself up on the headboard, his breath heavy as you shift on top of him. With only a few layers between you, you're aware of the shape of him through his boxers.

You grind your hips with purpose, and he swears under his breath. When you do it again, he muffles himself by kissing you. The friction— you know it's not going to be enough— makes you more desperate, and it must be having the same effect on him, judging by the way he's slightly squirming underneath you. He's not quite thrusting up against you, but it's obvious that if he were in a better position, he would be. When your cunt brushes against him, catching at that angle, he moans openly into your mouth. You draw back only for air. If you could, you'd keep kissing him forever.

"You gonna let me— mmh — fuck you?" He pants, "ohmygod, 'cause if you don't, you— you are one sick bastard—"

You smile, although you want him just as badly as he wants you. You're doing a slightly better job at keeping yourself composed, after all. "I don't know," you murmur, "isn't this nice?"

Clapton bites his lip when you grind down harder this time. "I — well," his hands scramble on your waist, your hips, "it is pretty nice, but, like — I just wanna take the logical— shitfuck — next step, right?" He's looking up at you with wide eyes, "and you are gonna let me, right?"

"Right," you repeat, your breath catching when you roll your hips at just the right angle, "I am gonna let you, don't worry."

He's flushed a pretty pink, pupils blown wide, obscuring hazel eyes; you drink him in. "Thought so," he grins. Before you can ask, he's already answering. "And, uh. There's a condom in the pocket of my shorts, if you're worried about that."

You're in mild disbelief, abruptly halting your movements.

"In your—?"

Clapton looks a little bashful, though he's still grinning. "Could you just get it?"

You're already awkwardly dismounting his lap. "Sure, sure." True to his word, there's a condom in the left pocket of his shorts, and you fish it out without a problem. You glance back at him for a moment, and he doesn't even try and pretend that he wasn't staring. Oh, well. A little clumsily, you get back onto the bed, and move to straddle him again— but he gently stops you.

"Hey," he says, "can we switch places?"

You don't need much time to consider it. "Alright."

Now, he's hovering between your legs, and you're the one lying back. His gaze lingers, but he can't wait for much longer. You lift your hips, and he slides your last remaining piece of fabric off.

"Fuck," he breathes, just before he gets to work. With the pad of one of his fingers, he collects the wetness that had been gathering, then smoothly slides the digit into your cunt. Swiftly, he adds another, the sensation odd at first, but you know you'll quickly get used to it. When he begins to lightly trace your clit, it only makes it easier for you to loosen up— both figuratively and literally. And he's still adding another. Maybe three fingers aren't strictly necessary, but he crooks them, finding the spot that makes an almost embarrassing noise tumble from your lips.

You spread your thighs wider. You could definitely cum like this if you let him continue for a while. Glancing up at his face— oh, he definitely would if you wanted him to. He's torn between looking at how his fingers disappear into you and your face. How you're reacting to his touch. It's a little flattering. But as much as part of you wants to see what he's willing to do —

"I'm — " You feel yourself tense, and you barely stifle an involuntary moan when he thumbs your nub again. "I'm ready. You can —"

He doesn't even wait until you finish the sentence. He's already pulling out his fingers, tugging off his boxers. Your eyes are immediately drawn downward. Again, you're not surprised that he's shaved. Length-wise, he's probably around average, but girth-wise he's nice and thick. There's a bead of precum at the tip— if he wasn't already tearing open the condom with his teeth in a move that he's probably practiced before, you would've offered to blow him or something. Maybe some other time.

Your idle thoughts dissipate when he lines himself up and, with an amount of care that nearly belies his previous neediness, presses in. You both moan in unison— he sounds infinitely more strained. He takes a moment to catch his breath, but—

He starts moving. Little thrusts, at first. Then, pulling out more, pushing back in. His mouth falls open, and you can't resist throwing your arms around his neck, pulling him down. He groans, and you take it in, taking it with his increasing pace. It's good— his thumb finds your sensitive apex again, and that makes you jolt, but you know he's trying to give you a smooth progression between slow and fast. That's not what you want, though. Especially not now. Inches from his lips, you mutter:

"Don't hold back."

And that's all it takes. You can vaguely hear the bed creaking when he snaps his hips up to meet yours, roughly fucking into you with almost reckless abandon. Your kisses are sloppy, uncoordinated. But you wouldn't prefer it any other way. You know he probably wouldn't be making those noises if he didn't know they were muffled against you. Some are high-pitched— ragged gasps, moans, and at least one whimper. You also know you don't sound much different. He can't reach down to rub your throbbing clit anymore, due to how he's positioned, but the way that he's angled is more than satisfying in that regard.

You lose track of time, only aware of his hips colliding against yours— his lips, his hands — the way he's starting to babble. "Fuck, you look so pretty like this," he confesses in a rush, "god, your eyes. I could just — I could just look at you like this forever. If you could see yourself — nnh — you would know." A sharp intake of breath, a few kisses, and then, "Ohfuck. Shit. You're gonna ruin this forever for me. I can't — "

His rhythm is starting to falter. You can feel the heat pooling low in your gut, the tension that comes before the inevitable release. You tighten around him. His hands braced near your shoulders tremble, and you can see his biceps flexing with the effort of holding himself up like this.

"Please," Clapton chokes out, and he doesn't specify as to what he wants, but you have a pretty good idea. "I'm gonna— "

"Do it," you manage, despite your own climbing pitch, "c'mon, give it to me—"

"Fuck— " You feel him pulse. For a split second, you wonder how it would feel if he didn't have on the condom— but your thoughts are quickly overtaken, as you're not too far behind. You twitch, spasming around his cock as your mouth falls open. The tension peaks, the heat spikes—

He fucks you, gently, as you float back down, riding out your orgasm. Your eyelids flutter shut, and your breath slows, but your pulse is still a fast-paced staccato.

He gingerly lays on top of you, catching his breath. It's hot against your throat. The world ceases spinning, and you let out a long sigh.

He mimics it, and you glance down at him.

You're reluctant to say it, but seriously, this is someone else's house. Guest room or not.

"We should get cleaned up or something."

He blinks once, lazily. Seemingly, he's content to lay on your chest. Of course, he's the type to get sleepy after sex. But at least he makes an effort to respond. "Ugh," he says. And then: "Jus' gimme a minute or something."

You give him a look, and he surrenders. "Okay, fine."

He slips out with a wet noise, and you only miss the fullness for a moment. Getting off the mattress, he throws out the condom, then accepts the wad of tissues you hand him. It's not the best, but it'll have to do for now. You manage to get most of the evidence of your arousal off before pulling back on your clothes. There's a mirror, thankfully, so you go to try and make yourself look less … fucked. Not that it would really matter. There are definitely people in worse states.

Clapton stands next to you, but doesn't even try to fix his hair. On him, it looks fashionably disheveled, anyway.

It's silent, before he interjects:

"Is this … gonna be just a one-time thing?"

The strange apprehensiveness is back, and you chance a glance at him. He's not meeting your eyes, but you're sure he's looking at you in the mirror's reflection.

"I don't know," is all you can think to say, "do you want it to be?" A beat. "We could totally go back to being just sort of friends, if that's what you want."

Clapton visibly swallows. "I … "

You wait, patiently. He takes another few seconds.

"I liked that," he mutters, "a lot. And I— I meant all that stuff. About you."

He's still not meeting your eyes. It makes you pause.

"I liked it too," you reply, softly.

The look he gives you next says it all. You know he's not big on old-school romance. He's not big on flowery words— his English grades can certainly attest to that. He's more of an action-oriented guy. Even if you don't get a verbal confession just yet— and you know you will, just not now— you suddenly understand what he's trying to convey. So, you pull yourself together and throw caution to the wind.

"You wanna get out of here?"

He beams.

#clapton davis x reader #clapton davis x you #clapton davis imagines #clapton davis smut #josh hutcherson x reader

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nanaslutt · 4 days

Text

shameless

ʚ yuta x reader

ʚ cont: fem reader, fluffy fluff, jealousy, possessiveness, clingy!yuta

note: congrats @dracrimes for winning my fic giveaway, I hope you enjoy ^.^

MINORS AND AGELESS BLOGS DO NOT FOLLOW

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"Um...I'll take the brown sugar boba please!" You chirped to the young-looking waitor, who nodded and smiled as he took your order. "Is it gonna be normal sugar, hon?" He asked, tilting his head at you and squinting his eyes a bit as he voiced the pet name. You were so busy looking at the delicious desserts on the menu that you didn't hear the pet name, and you didn't notice the spike in Yuta's cursed energy.

"I'll take it a little sweeter than normal please!" You asked, handing your menu to the man in front of you. Yuta's eyes were glued to where your hands met as the waiter's finger grazed across your own. "Extra sweet drink for an extra sweet girl." He said, winking at you. Your eyes opened a bit in surprise, but you ultimately shrugged it off, thinking he was joking.

At this point, Yuta felt his blood boiling. Was he stupid? Was he so dense that he wasn't able to realize you were on a date right now, or was he so shameful that he didn't even care? Yuta wasn't used to feeling like this. It was rare that he experienced jealousy like this regarding another person. He balled his fist by his side and reached his hand across the table with one hand to adjust your bracelet which had gone crooked, a small show of affection in front of the waitor.

"Are you getting anything Yu?" You asked sweetly, your chest swelling with love as you watched his fingers drag down your wrist to play with your fingers. Yuta looked up from your hands and smiled sweetly, his jaw clenching under the weight of his teeth as he tried to calm himself before he spoke. "I'm okay baby, I'll just have some of yours." You were unable to stop your eyebrows from shooting upward in surprise at the nickname.

It was rare that Yuta used pet names with you, he always got so flustered whenever he tried, so you felt your heart jump when you heard the pet name. You missed the way the corner of the waiter's mouth twitched as he watched Yuta talk sweetly to you in front of him. It was quite obvious what he was doing. You on the other hand were in your own little world, listening to your internal voice scream as you replayed the nickname over in your head.

After the waitor walked away, Yuta quickly got up from his place across from you and scooched into your side of the booth. "You're being so cute today, what was that?" You teased, tilting your head to the side at him as you took his hand in your own, resting your hands over your knee. "You never call me baby." Yuta felt his demeanor change the instant you had called him out. His face went red and he looked away, covering his mouth with his hand as he poorly disguised his embarrassment as a cough.

"I uh, I don't know. Just wanted to say it." He said bashfully, turning his head back your way. "So cute." You gushed, squeezing his hand tighter in your own. Yuta sighed and plopped his forehead down on your shoulder, his breath tickling your arm. "Don't tease me, I just wanted to try it out." He mumbled under his breath. You brought your other hand up and ruffled his hair, making him sit up and look at you with a slight pout as you continued to play with his hair.

While Yuta looked into your eyes the only thing he could think about was how lucky he is, how grateful he is to call you his. And you were, you were his, not that waiter's. Yuta felt bad for feeling so malicious toward the waitor when you had no idea. Maybe he was overreacting, but it still stands that you were his, and he hated to see people hit on you so blatantly when he was sitting right there. He had enough of being treated like he was being invisible for an entire lifetime. It sucked being treated that way on his own, but it sucked even more when you were involved.

"Alrightyy, here's that extra sweet boba for you, hun," Yuta swore he felt a blood vessel in his head pop when that same man's irritating voice echoed from behind him. Yuta still had a smile on his face while he looked at you, but the second he turned his head there was nothing but a smile on his face. He would never treat staff this way, but this time was different. He called you that stupid pet name not once, but twice now?

The waitor had a blood-boiling smirk on his face as Yuta turned around, the two boys making eye contact with one another. You were blissfully unaware of their little rivalry as your mouth started to drool while staring at your drink in his hand. Yuta stopped his hand in motion by grabbing the cup in his own when he looked like he was trying to set it in front of you. "I got it," Yuta said coldly, not even daring to blink as he grabbed the cup from the weaker waitor with ease.

"Right, just make sure you look on the side of the cup little lady, left a little something for you." The waitor explained, directing his focus on you and winking before he walked off. Yuta grits his teeth as he burns the face of that man into his brain, imagining what he would do to him if he could. "Yu look! The top is a bear how cute." You exclaimed, your voice instantly melting away some of the anxiety and malice he was feeling.

Yuta turned his head back to you and rested his head in his hand by placing his elbow on the table as he watched you enjoy your drink. "How is it?" He asked, his heart swelling with love as he watched your eyes light up with joy. "It's soooo good! Try some." You offered, holding the drink up to his lips. He hated to hear you praise the drink that man made, but he closed his mouth around the straw and sipped down some of the liquid. It was a little too sweet for his taste, but it was fitting for someone like you.

"Good huh?" You said, smiling as you pulled the cup away from him. Yuta watched curiously as your smile turned into confusion as your eyes read something on the side of the cup. "Oh..." You said, looking uncomfortable all of a sudden. "I think the waitor left his number on my drink." You said, your expression dropping as you turned the cup around to face Yuta.

The inside of Yuta's head felt like a battlefield as he sat up and grabbed the cup, reading the number over. He took a special interest in the little heart on the side of the cup. "I thought the names he was calling me were a little weird, but I think it's pretty obvious we're together." You laughed. Yuta found nothing funny about the situation, he wanted to throw the drink and the soiled cup at the shameless employee, but he had to hold himself together for you.

"You okay Yuta, don't let it bother you, okay?" You said, caressing his cheek and taking the drink back from him. "I'm fine." He nodded, leaning into your touch. He wanted nothing more than to get out of the shop and go back home with you. Spend some time watching a movie or sitting in the garden alone with you, where he doesn't have to worry about other people ogling you or trying to take you away.

"Is it okay if we leave?" Yuta asked, grabbing your hand that held his face. You felt your heart skip a beat as you watched Yuta close his eyes and bask in your touch. You think you were starting to catch on to why Yuta was being so uncharacteristically clingy, but you didn't want to say something and make him stop acting so cute. "Of course, you feeling okay?" You asked, letting him hold your hand.

"I'm okay, just wanna leave now. Getting a little tired." He said, smiling softly at you. You nodded and began to gather your things. "I'll throw this away for you." Yuta offered sweetly, picking up your finished cup of boba. Yuta made a point to find the trash can closest to the register, where the boy from earlier was standing, waiting for customers. Yuta watched him like a hawk, hoping he would notice him throw the cup with his number on it away. Sure enough, the boy looked over and watched with raised eyebrows as Yuta threw the drink away with a little more force than necessary, the trash shaking from the impact.

The boy sucked his teeth and squinted his eyes at Yuta, watching him turn his back on him and walk back to your table. "Ready?" Yuta offered, holding his hand out for you as you got up to sit from the booth. "Mhm." You smiled, letting him take your hand in his and walk out of the cafe. "I'm actually glad you said something, I was getting a little tired myself." You said as you walked hand in hand down the street, drinking in what was left of the sun before it set soon.

"I'm glad, I didn't want to ruin anything if you wanted to stay," Yuta said, resting his head on the top of your head as you walked together. You smirked and squeezed his hand tighter. "That guy really bothered you huh?" You asked, slowing as you walked up to a crosswalk and hit the button, watching the cars go by. Yuta felt his face heat up as he rubbed the back of his head. You tilted your head at him and smiled, watching his eyes dart around as his face scrunched in embarrassment.

"It's okay Yu, I love you and only you. I don't even remember his face if that makes you feel better." You giggled, smiling up at him. Good thing Yuta remembered his face well enough for the both of you. He wasn't going to let him off the hook so easily. Maybe he would have Panda and Inumaki call the establishment over and over again and complain about him to get him fired. That would make him feel better. Yeah, he would probably do that, and you didn't have to worry about a thing.

Yuta stepped towards you and wrapped his arms around your shoulders, holding you tightly against his chest. "Good, because I don't either," Yuta replied, lying in his words. He would never forget such an ugly face so easily. You rubbed your face against his chest and squeezed him tightly, so tight he let out a funny noise of discomfort as you squeezed all the air from his lungs before pulling away.

"Don't be jealous okay? We can spend the rest of the day cuddling in my room when we get back." Yuta couldn't help the smile that spread across his face as he looked at you, his heart brimming with joy and satisfaction. He nodded and let you escape his grasp fully as you took his hand in your own and started walking across the street, dragging him along with you. "Just an FYI though, I like it when you're clingy with me, it's cute." You giggled, looking back at him.

"Alright, alright," Yuta said, waving his free hand in front of him, trying to get you to change the topic. You giggled at his embarrassment as he stumbled over his own feet while crossing the street. Yuta was so lucky to have someone as comforting as you as a partner, already he felt the malice from earlier melt off of his body, but the need to hold your hand tightly still prevailed until long after the two of you got back to the dorms.

#yuta x reader #jujutsu kaisen yuta okkotsu #yuta fluff #jjk yuta #yuta okkotsu #jujutsu okkotsu #jjk okkotsu #yuuta okkotsu x reader #yuuta okkotsu x you #yuuta okkotsu fluff #jujutsu kaisen okkotsu #jjk fluff #jjk x reader #jjk x you

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kira-broflovski · 1 year

Text

main 4 boys hcs: crushing on the new girl

note: more sleepover chapters to be out soon!! also i got carried away in kenny's part oops

STAN ☆

he thought he'd never be able to like a girl ever again, but that idea was short-lived when he saw you.

it was love at first sight.

he was planning on going up to you and introducing himself, but other guys were quicker.

i can see him being really jealous, especially if it's other football players or people he trusts. (maybe tolkien will come in and steal someone from stan again 💀)

at one point, he saw you getting uncomfortable with all the attention you were getting so stan saw an opportunity.

an opportunity to yell at the others while still looking like a good guy, that is.

"Alright, guys, that's enough!" Stan stomped his foot against the floor, silence quickly filling the teacher-less classroom. "Can't you see how uncomfortable she is?"

You couldn't stand to look at anyone while you were the centre of this unwanted attention.

The various types of guys hated the fact Stan was right and that you were visibly uncomfortable, but you were relieved at this sudden saviour.

While everyone backed off, Stan remained in front of you so you looked up at him while he approached with a subtle smile, which you thankfully returned.

"Hey, if anyone's ever bothering you, just text me." He stated before handing you a little yellow note, his phone number quickly scribbled across it.

"Thank you, uh..."

"Stan."

"Thank you, Stan." He was proud to be the first guy to get a genuine smile out of you.

"You're very welcome...?"

"Y/N."

"Well, see you around, Y/N." He might have fell in love first, but you fell harder.

"Bastard wanted her all to himself!"

KYLE ☆

when kyle first saw you, he thought you were cute of course but didn't think anything else until he sat next to you for a class you shared.

he is more of a hopeless romantic, so of course he would act on a classic trope when he got the chance to.

you were struggling with the question the teacher had set, so you turned to the person on your left but they made a snide comment and didn't bother helping you. thankfully, kyle came to your assistance.

"Ignore that asswipe, Y/N." You heard someone to the right-hand side of you say. "I'll help you."

You turned around to see it was Kyle, the smartest kid in the class!

"Thank you so much, Kyle!" It was good to know not everyone was mean here. At the mention of his name with your seemingly angelic voice, he felt his heart flutter.

"No worries," he smiled nervously. "What do you need help with?"

KENNY ☆

just like the others, when he first saw you he thought you were so pretty.

he just needed to have you.

but he's not as confident as his friends, so he shied away and decided to admire you from afar.

however, that changed when you were the one to go up to him: you introduced yourself and explained you wanted to make a lot of new friends.

kenny introduced himself, as well, he never thought he'd get the chance to talk to you like this. however, he made the mistake of making his liking towards you known to his friends... more specifically, cartman.

"You wouldn't like Kenny, new girl." Eric chuckled maliciously from behind the blonde-haired boy that was simply trying to admire the girl of his dreams in peace.

"Why not?" You huffed. "I've already taken a liking to him."

Kenny tried to act as if that isn't one of the sweetest things somebody has said about him.

"Well, he's poor!" Eric shouted as if it was obvious. "He'd be an even worse boyfriend, and he clearly already has a little crush on you."

The poor boy was mortified. Worried that he had just lost his chance with you when you stood in silence.

"What?" You were taken aback. Did Kenny really call this asshole a friend?

"I'm doing you a favour, whatever your name is." Eric continued. "Don't go for Kyle either, he's a stupid-"

"That's enough, fatass!" Kyle yelled.

Kenny started to panic. He didn't know what to do, and he's never felt more embarrassed. And it was all Eric's fault!

"C'mon, Kenny. Let's go somewhere else to talk." You said, much to his surprise, but he gladly accepted.

ERIC ☆

if this isn't enemies to lovers potential, idk what is.

he'd be more discreet about his crush because god forbid the others realise he actually likes someone!

he would just simply bully you, but you were different. you were just trying to be nice, so when he realised he actually felt a little bad he tried toning it down little by little before toning it down.

he's definitely the possessive type, so when he realised you had already became friends with the others... he wanted to be your friend too.

however, he just wanted you all to himself.

"Fuck you guys, I saw her first!"

"Saw her first? She's not an object, Cartman. She can choose who she wants to hang out with, and I'm surprised she even wants to associate with you!"

The boys were bickering back and forth as usual, arguing over you as if you weren't sat there with them.

"But, Y/N is mine!" Eric yelled, taking all of you by surprise.

"Yours?" You questioned.

"Ah, shit."

#south park #south park x reader #south park fanfiction #stan marsh #stan marsh x reader #kyle broflovski #kyle broflovski x reader #kenny mccormick #kenny mccormick x reader #eric cartman #eric cartman x reader #south park boys #south park x y/n #fluff #headcanons

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quartzalynlove · 7 months

Text

Being A Kawata Sister

Summary: imagine being the sister of out favorite demon twins

A/N: black fem reader and blasian angry and smiley

The boys look out for each other and love each other dearly

That being said

They bicker nonstop at home

You can't count how many times nahoya snitched to you or you had to desperately stop souya from crying out of frustration after Smiley's been playing too much

Sometimes they even try to make you the judge in their squabbles but you have none of it

"Y/n, tell him he's being stupid!"

"Will yall quit it! Kill each other about it for all I care but leave me out of it."

They're big softies at home tho

They've trusted you with many secrets to take to your grave

Their fellow delinquents could never find out about the stuffed panda that angry sleeps with (or the times you and Smiley had to keep him from crying when he couldn't find it)

Not to mention the fact that Nahoya still sucks his thumb and cried at every movie

Yall could watch the funniest comedy where the lovers get together and the dog doesn't die and he'll still find something to sob over

When it comes to cooking they'd be dead without you

Souya overthings every step

While nahoya doesn't think enough

They both annoy you in that brotherly way

Nahoya will constantly poke you then insist he isn't doing anything when you get agitated

And souya will crash himself into you without warning

It's not all malicious he'll just want a hug or something but he knows being all up in your space at first will irritate you

You do their hair exclusively

Souya will have the decency to manage his own hair twice a week but nahoya treats you like a personal stylist

Them hardly being injured after a fight is only partly from them being that good

You hate it when they've been out all day and stumble back in the house all beat up

It only ever happened twice and that's because you held your tongue the first time

They felt so guilty for making you worried like that and swore they wouldn't fight so recklessly anymore

Being together brings all of you a lot of comfort

It always feels a bit empty between them when they're out with toman while you're back home

If they come home late and you're already in bed they might just jump in your bed

While you don't mind in theory, they both toss turn and kick like they fight demons at night

At the end of the day you love your brothers and they love you

But it'll always irritate you that you're the only who knows how annoying they are

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maxzinn · 28 days

Note

off topic but also on topic its so clear that the genshin/star rail (saying both cause theres a large overlap) have no capability of thinking.

there are so many fics where *reader* somehow becomes a (sex)slave or is forced to do horrible shit and just general dead dove behavior. the fact that the author used INGAME LORE, CANON BACKSTORY FOR THE CHARACTER proves how braindead so many people are.

like people try to free slaves/captors in media isnt a new thing. theres a lot of art of that angelhusk ship where one gambles for the others freedom (never watched it but its an example)

like having slaves/captors in media isnt new and never has been but the only reason people truely care is because its a hoyoverse game and cant handle anything darker or complex then a PG rating

(sorry anon, I got carried away with this one tee-hee)

YOU'RE SO REAL FOR THIS!!! y'know I was sooo confused when people started screaming for blood when the authors are using his IN-GAME LORE in their fics and then claims that the people who enjoyed writing those have "white-knight syndrome" like cmon sjsadhjg you're giving me a fucking stroke.

I'll say it again, wanting to give slave aventurine or someone a better life DOESN'T mean they have "white-knight syndrome" when they have good intentions!!! We were all were crying for him and his tragic past, we all wanted to comfort him, and we at some point also wished for his salvation and the betterment of his life. These people need to stop throwing these "white-knight syndrome" accusations cuz it's definitely not about that. And like you said, it was his IN-GAME LORE. I already expected some authors to write about reader saving him from his slavery and there's nothing wrong with that! Cuz please, don't tell me you won't help the guy out of his abusive owner, let's be fr here.

Like you also said, many have been writing yandere/heavy dark themes about reader being literally SA'd and R'd by said character (do not tell me you guys haven't read all those fics where Aven was our debt collector and in paying our debt, he noncon or manipulated us into sleeping with him 💀) and now they wanna talk about morals?

And please, don't even try bringing up Romania or irl people in here. IT'S A FICTIONAL RACE IN A FICTIONAL STORY. it may be "inspired" like they said, but it's not directly addressing Romania!!

I get their point alright, I truly do. Like I said in my other post, I do not condone the sex slave! aus about aventurine and the master/slave bdsm cuz his story truly hurt me and I'm uncomfortable sexualizing his slavery when I know about his story and what happened to him as a slave. But I won't go as far as to actually send death threats to those authors and act like a hypocrite💀 people can write what they want to write and I don't have to read those writings if I don't wanna.

Just to say, I'm a yandere/dark-content enjoyer as well, it's just that I draw the line when it comes to aventurine cuz I just wanna cuddle and dote on that man and give him all the love and affection in the world. but like I said, am no hypocrite as well. (sorry if I can't explain it very well but I hope you get the gist of it)

It's just funny and baffling how people are like "eww this person wrote a fic about reader buying slave aventurine so they can be a good owner to him".... this is leaving me speechless how they turned an act with good intentions into something malicious... that poor author doesn't even have bad intentions when writing that fic.

When you apply their logic, it's like saying "this person adopted an abused child so that they can be a good parent to that child, disgusting" do they even realize how stupid they sound??? 😭

#aventurine x reader #I just cannot with this #y'all giving me a headache with this one #funny how they turned a person's good intention into something malicious

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homunculus-argument · 8 months

Note

Did your parents ever mock you as a child?

When I was a kid, maybe 7 or 8, a pair of birds made a nest in a tree in our yard, and it was late in the season and unusually cold. I expressed a wish to help them somehow, and was met with a withering 'oh, you want your father and I to wire the tree up with electricity so we can put a TV and a little electric blanket in there don't you?' and when I said no, I want to put food out for them and maybe some spare toy stuffing for them to line the nest with I got laughed at. 'Sure, that's definitely what you meant, because you're always so sensible'.

There were many such incidents. I'm 38 and still afraid of sincerity or asking for anything a lot of the time. Did your parents pull this shit too?

Not in a deliberately sarcastic, mocking way, but they did tend to always somehow jump to the most negative, malicious, or idiotic interpretation of what I was saying, and act like I was backpedalling and taking my words back when I clarified that what I was trying to say was something sensible, and not the complete moronic thing they assumed I was saying. And then shrugging it off with a "well one can never know when it's you." Like assuming that I'm stupid or evil is just the most statistically likely option.

I could do a whole Dark Knight Bane Speech about tumblr-style bad faith interpretations. Going like

“Ah, you think malicious misinterpration of my words is your ally? You merely adopted the bad faith reading. I was born in it, molded by it. I didn't have people properly understand a single fucking word that I was saying until I was already a man, by then it was nothing to me but confusing!”

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emeraldsandamethyst · 8 months

Text

Inspired by this post by @nerdpoe thank you

AN: a whole new au. Danny is not the ghost king. He is running errands for the ancients. He is unaware but he's a baby ancient himself. The new ancient of space. Though he's not there yet.

Tim is going by Cardinal in this. Jason is still Red Hood, and also the prince that Danny is talking about. Jason and the bats have no idea he's a prince or what it means. I had originally planned on making this dead on main but now it might be dead tired. Unsure. If it is Tim is polyam and already dating Bernard for sure and maybe Kon too idk.

***

Tim, as Cardinal, landed on the rooftop across from the unknown potential rogue. They were glowing weakly and floating just off the gravel on the roof. Their hair was white and mid length. It moved more like smoke than hair. They were wearing a simple black suit with white gloves, boots and belt. They had no face covering.

"Oh, you're here! Awesome! You ready?" They asked cheerfully. He'd been expected. Or if not Cardinal then at least someone from The Colony.

Tim hummed noncommittally. The guy looked confused then disappointed.

"You don't know why you're here, do you?" The guy said, both his shoulders and floating hair drooping in disappointment. Curious.

"Why don't you tell me what you think I'm here for and we can compare notes." Tim said with bland politeness. He didn't do anything so stupid as relax, but he wasn't in the mood to fight. So de-escalate it was. Hopefully the unknown would agree.

"Right. Okay. At least you're definitely her knight so you're the right guy." He said, apparently to himself, then he straightened his posture and pulled out a scroll from somewhere, making it look like it came from his suit. "Ahem ahem." He actually said instead of clearing his throat. He began to read. "It has come to the attention of the Council of Ancients that one of our peoples is claiming their haunt in the Living world under false pretenses and with malicious intent beyond reasonable expectations of the Dead.

"Recognizing the great disruption that the Living would experience at Our collective presence We, the Council of Ancients, send in our stead a champion, known to the living as Danny Phantom, to enforce Our decree.

"It has been reported by the Dead victims that the Living have been unable to otherwise mitigate or contain or banish this criminal from their world. The wrongs done are so numerous and so horrific and the Victims so plentiful that We, The Council of Ancients, condemn this man, known to the Living as 'The Joker', to eternal imprisonment. This judgment is to be enforced forthwith. Once apprehend and safely contained We, The Council of Ancients, shall provide a means by which the Living can file their own grievances against The Joker to seek redress.

"Danny Phantom-" Danny stopped reciting and looked over at Cardinal with a disgruntled expression, "that's me. I'm Danny Phantom, I have to read it exactly." Then he went back to reading the document. "Danny Phantom is hereby charged to speak with the Ghost whose haunt has been so grossly violated and follow their demands that do not conflict with Realm law."

Danny waited, holding the scroll open for a few more moments before he offered it, rolled back up, to Tim.

"And that's why I'm here with you, by the way, Lady Gotham told me her knights and Prince would help me and you're her knight, so, yeah! That's why I'm here! Got my warrant and everything Mister Birdman, Sir!"

"... It's Cardinal, actually." Tim said. He took the glowing paper with some concern and opened it himself. The words were not in English or any other language Tim knew. Except as he looked the document translated itself into English.

This was, indeed, a very strange but official seeming document that could be called a warrant. Calling for the detainment of The Joker. In another dimension.

An excuse to get The Joker gone forever? Tim wanted to accept this right now, immediately. But Bruce would need more than a scroll from an unknown government and the words of their supposed representative as proof.

Tim breathed in for four, held it then exhaled for six. "How exactly am I to determine this is a legitimate warrant from a legitimate governing body with actual jurisdiction in Gotham, New Jersey, The United States of America, North America, Earth, third planet in the Sol system, the Milky Way and not some wackos with big ideas and more power than sense."

"But, it is legit?" Danny Phantom looked confused, as if the concept of this situation being faked had never even occurred to him. Tim stared at him. Phantom stared back.

"Sure, okay, you're telling me it is. But how do I make sure you're actually who you say you are. Anyone can put on a costume and claim whatever they want. Doesn't make it true." Tim said with patience he didn't feel.

"Huh. Uh, I guess?" Phantom said, somehow looking even more confused now. "Um, usually your patron would be here to introduce us, well she is here but she's not able to be seen by the Living. Not even her knights. She's supposed to be able to show herself to you guys but can't because this The Joker guy is messing with her. Taking her power and junk.

"What?" Phantom's eyes lost focus, like he was communicating telepathically. Since it was a total non sequitur Tim figured it likely was telepathy, or something like it.

Tim waited, mentally rifling through his memories to find ways to vet this guy that would satisfy Bruce. Because honestly? Tim was tempted to just let him go and watch what happened.

"Oh! Well, why isn't your prince here, Lady? That should make everything easy— wait, seriously? Of course not, that would be easy. How can they even function? Ugh."

"Excuse me? Who exactly is this prince that I'm supposedly following the orders of?" Tim interjected. He didn't need this unknown likely meta going off on irrelevant tangents. Definitely not now.

"It's- ugh. I'm not allowed to say anything? He's a dude that… you know." Danny flinched and hissed. He glared at nothing, sulking.

"Uh-huh." Tim said. "The prince of Gotham is 'a dude' that 'I know' right. Sure. I know Brucie Wayne is the media's prince of Gotham but he's not actually an actual prince. That's just hyperbole. We don't actually have royalty here."

"I'm from Ohio! Of course I know that's not your Lady's real prince!" Danny scoffed and looked offended.

"Condolences on being Ohian."

"Oh come on! You're from New Jersey!"

"Your point?" Tim asked.

"Look. Just. I am trying to do my job and help you and your patron and your people." Danny snapped.

"And what do you need from me, exactly? You never actually explained. You just read me your warrant." Tim pointed out.

"Oh. Uh. Sorry Cardinal." Danny said, embarrassed. "I just need your okay for me to get him or for you to come with."

Tim hummed and thought. That was it? Tim technically didn't even need to go with him? Tim was, of course. He was much too untrusting to just let this stranger run off in Gotham unsupervised.

"Yeah alright. I'll escort you, don't run off."

"Aw yeah!" Phantom said, immediately flying off. He did at least come back and look embarrassed, staying close to Tim. "Um, sorry. Got excited. Lead the way Sir Cardinal!"

***

That's all I've got so far. Just kinda wrote this to get back into writing. No idea if I'm gonna continue it.

Thank you.

#my writing #emeraldsandamethyst #dc tim drake #dp danny fenton #dpxdc #tim drake is cardinal #warrant officer danny fenton #the joker is a ghost in this au #ghost justice au

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cursedvibes · 30 days

Note

The way people are focusing on "My fav Gojo is not racist, he's just ignorant" and "Gege really hates Gojo he made him racist" when it was not even the point of that interaction. The point was to educate and talk about some stereotypes about black people that are harmful to the community and, if you look into it I'm sure you'll find has it origins in slavery.

Besides, Gojo is privileged and comes from an old money family, and it looks like he isolatehimself from others. Of course, it's in character for him to say stupid things like that. Even if he strives for change.

Yeah, everyone is so pressed that their fave is being problematic (which honestly Gojo has always been, he's hardly a saint and he treats many people quite shitty like for example Utahime and Ijichi) that they miss the bigger picture of this. Given, I think there are better ways to get that point across, but the aim here was definitely not "look at what a uniquely bad person Gojo is, I want to make readers hate him" it's for readers to reflect upon themselves and their own biases, conscious or not. Gojo is often being a dick to people, Miguel included, but this wasn't it. He wasn't just being annoying as usual, he made a misinformed statement rooted in racism "black people are naturally stronger/tougher/more resistant" and he got told off for it, which actually led to him apologizing. He expresses bigoted views, that are quite common all around the world and can lead to real harm like for example medical discrimination, but people often don't question or even notice that they have these views. I think exactly because he's such a fan-favourite character, Miguel calling him out and Gojo admitting he said fucked up shit is important.

Gojo might make a trip to Kenya to meet Yuuta, but unsurprisingly doesn't have any real black acquaintances and the one black person he knows a little better doesn't like him because he treats him like shit, an expandable tool (given, Miguel did try to help someone do a genocide so it's not like him working to make up for that in principle is a problem, but Gojo is not just treating him badly because of that) and has dismissed him and his culture as a whole. Gojo's racism towards Miguel didn't come out of thin air with chapter 255.

No wonder Miguel wants him dead.

You could say Gojo's racism and ignorance got punished before as this powerful cursed tool he so casually dismisses here together with its history could have gotten him out of the box much earlier. If he hadn't gone out of his way to destroy part of Kenyian sorcerer's culture because of his fear that it might be used to hurt him, he might still be alive. This chapter the payback was just more direct, Miguel was given the space to push back and not just get beat up (making in the previous moment Gojo seem like the righteous cool guy, seen by how the fandom reacted to their fight) and he also didn't sugar-coat it and straight up said "you're being racist".

The fact that Gojo apologized, something quite rare for him, and didn't defend his uninformed views or mocked Miguel for questioning him also shows that a lot of this comes from unaddressed biases, irrational fears and having lived a sheltered life in terms of being exposed to other cultures (and actually valuing them) that influence his judgement. He's not trying to be maliciously racist, but he clearly doesn't know what he's talking about and why it is harmful. I don't think he revelled in destroying other people's culture, he was just driven by a base fear, but that doesn't make the harm he caused any better. He's never had any reason to engage with black people on a personal level and that has unsurprisingly led to some ignorant opinions about them. Again, a very common sentiment which Gege uses Gojo to highlight. This is clearly reflecting arguments and talking points Gege has heard themselves and tried to address here. I'm sure there are all kinds of wild racist takes about Miguel on Japanese social media, I know the English side has them plenty.

I think the message Gege wanted to send was executed a bit clunkily by for example still tying Miguel's CT to rhythm (replacing the inhumanly strong black guy stereotype with another common one) and putting the burden all on Miguel to educate the people around him. Similarly, having only one (explicit) black person in the manga who has to then explain anti-black racism to the reader makes it feel very forced. I think you could've avoided a lot of that and included these topics more dynamically by giving us more background on Miguel's technique and how he came to it and comparing it to cursed technique's of other Kenyan or African sorcerer's. Another option would be making Hakari for example Black-Asian (or Todo or Yaga). He has a darker skin tone than the other characters and differently textured hair (which would already lead to him having to face a bunch of bigotry in his everyday life) and he is hated by the conservative higher-ups. So actually do something with that and address it.

Even Japanese people who are merely slightly tanned get harassed. Just being from Kyushu or Okinawa, somewhere where it's much warmer and sunnier and therefore not being as pale as the average person in e.g. Tokyo will get you plenty of derogatory comments, especially if you're a woman. That goes extra for indigenous people like the Ryukyuan or Ainu who not only face prejudice because of their appearance but also legal discrimination because of their origins and challenge the very popular notion that Japan only has one ethnic group and one language. Japan still struggles with a lot of racism internally against their own people, so you can imagine that it's even worse for anyone who newly immigrated or with parents who immigrated (in the best of times you will always be treated as a foreigner no matter how well you speak the language or integrate into the culture simply because you look "different"). It has gotten better in recent times, but it's still a problem, as Gege pointed out in this chapter.

Coming back to Hakari, we would also be able to see through him how jujutsu society treats black-identified Japanese sorcerers, which would be a different perspective from Miguel's who only visits Japan occasionally and mostly operated outside the system until Gojo came along. Black people aren't just something distant overseas, they are also Japanese citizens. You could show if and how jujutsu society differs from regular Japanese society. Most likely they are even more behind as they also discriminate against what kind of cursed technique you have (modern or one based on a long bloodline, which would automatically work against anyone not born in Japan and with a long family history there). You could also combine it with the transphobia Kirara faced and generally show how this system fails young sorcerers who don't conform to their norm.

But yeah, sorry Gojo is not perfect and will fall into the same stereotypical and bigoted thinking as many other people who rarely step outside their narrow homogenous social circle. Like you said, he's privileged with old money and family history who pride themselves on their bloodline. He's generally very narrow-minded about things that don't interest him or he sees as irrelevant like how he doesn't bother to understand Maki or has no problem ignoring a starving child on the road (who cares what happens to Hana, she's weak and Megumi is the strong one, he's who matters here and deserves to be lifted out of poverty) and international sorcerers fall under that as well. There are so little of them so it's okay to ignore them, why should he bother reaching out or informing himself about people abroad, he's never gonna interact with them anyway. If they get too dangerous for his taste, he's just gonna slap them around a bit and take away their sharp toys.

Honestly, I think what Gojo did previously is worse than what he said this chapter. He can learn to check his internalized racism and be more mindful of how he talks to Miguel or black people in general (he shows openness to criticism and improvement here), but he can't bring back Black Rope. It falls to Kenya's sorcerers to recreate it, which will take decades. They'll feel the impact of Gojo's actions long past his death, even when he can't say anything ignorant or racist anymore.

So I don't think this ruins his character, was done by Gege to make Gojo fans feel bad, or meant to keep anyone from liking him. He has character flaws and that is fine. He gets challenged on them and receives push back for them plenty in the story. I can understand that some fans feel bad reading the chapter, hearing Gojo regurgitate talking points they might've heard said against them as well, but it's not really Gege's fault for addressing this very common issue.

#asks #jjk spoilers #jjk 255 #jjk leaks

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cosmicjoke · 1 month

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Okay, this is a bit of a call-out post, which I don't like to engage in, but some of the stuff that's been brought to my attention, that's apparently been being said about me and, by extension, people who share my views, isn't really something I can let stand.

So apparently there's some blogs going around vague posting about Levi fans who dare (oh the horror) to call Levi a good man and a hero, saying stuff like doing so is how one treads down the path toward Nazism, because it's a "denial" of Levi's faults, and if we don't condemn his violence as outright bad or wrong, then we're liable to start making excuses for and justifying all forms of violence.

Do I even need to lay out why this argument is absurd and absolutely childish at its core? I don't think so, but I will anyway.

One of the overarching and main themes of AoT is that we shouldn't flatly condemn people for their actions without first understanding the context of those actions. That nothing is ever so simple as being flatly right or wrong, good or bad. That there can be and are complicating factors that might lead to any, given person's actions or behavior.

Levi himself is a prime example of this, and we see the error of flatly condemning and writing him off as "bad" in the form of Jean's and Mikasa's judgmental and dismissive attitude toward him after seeing him engage in acts of violence, only to themselves be forced into similar acts moments later.

The stupidity inherent to uniformly condemning all violence as bad or wrong lies in its total failure to consider any mitigating circumstances that might have lead to the violence in the first place, and, ironically, it's THAT sort of basic and simplistic thinking that leads toward the kind of fanatical, ideological foundations of Nazism and other, similar movements. Nuanced thought, consideration, empathy and critical thinking are never the things that lead down that road. Moralistic and generalized view points are what do that. To call Levi a "morally grey" character is to fundamentally misunderstand that morality itself is a "grey" concept. There's no such thing a black and white morality. Almost nothing is always right and always wrong, including violence. Very few things, if anything, can be definitely categorized as right and wrong in and of itself. The argument that some things need to be wholly condemned or eradicated is, for example, the same sort of logic that people who advocate for censorship apply. All pornography is bad or wrong? Better to just flatly condemn and ban all of it, then. Oh my, you're going to let two men marry each other? What if someone wants to marry an animal next? Better just make gay marriage illegal then, I guess. Many Jews are bankers, and banking is a corrupt business that preys on people's vulnerabilities, thus, all Jews are really just money launders and loan sharks and need to be stopped. Killing and violence is always wrong, and so people who kill or commit acts of violence are always criminals and bad people with malicious intent or who reveal in other people's pain. See how that works? All generalizations like that lead to is mass persecution, either of a concept or of a person/group of people, without taking into consideration the actual complexity or nuanced reasoning for why something or someone might be a certain way or do a certain thing. That's what's dangerous.

To deny Levi is a good man or a hero because he commits acts of violence is to totaly deny and strip him of all the many aspects and characteristics of his personality that makes him who he actually is. Levi's violence doesn't define him. It isn't who he is. Rather, it's a product of the world he lives in and the circumstances of his upbringing and life. It doesn't signify the person he is at his core. It doesn't negate the immense compassion, kindness, empathy and sensitivity with which he regards and treats other people. It doesn't render his heroism worthless or questionable. It doesn't undermine his intentions or motivations. It doesn't rob his many sacrifices of their selflessness. That's why I say Levi is a good man. Not because he's on the "good guy side" or because he holds a certain set of ideological beliefs, but because of those inherent qualities which define him as a good man. Compassion, kindness, empathy, emotional intelligence, and a genuine desire to help others for others sake. He's a good person because he actually, truly cares about other people. Is that assessment of him supposed to somehow lead down the road to fanaticism? How absurd.

That's not to say Levi doesn't have flaws. Of course he does. He's a human being, and all human's are flawed. Nobody ever said Levi was a "perfect" hero, just that he is a hero. Understanding Levi's violence and where it comes from and why he engages in it doesn't mean we're excusing it or calling it "good". It's simply an attempt to understand and acknowledge one of the main themes of AoT, which is that a person committing a "bad act" doesn't in and of itself make them a "bad person", and that certain actions and behaviors that are deemed "bad" by society can and often do have reasonable and justifiable explanations at their root. Does Levi resort to violence too often and too easily? Sure. I've said that and acknowledged it on multiple occasions. I've dedicated entire, long-winded analysis posts to exploring the duality of Levi's compassionate and empathetic nature with the fact that he's one of the most violent characters in AoT. His knee-jerk reaction and response to most situations is to apply physical force of one kind or another. Levi is also an extremely emotional character, and is given at times to bouts of emotionally excessive response. When he kicks Eren and Jean after his conversation with Erwin. When he manhandles Historia for her initial, flat refusal to take the throne. When he kicks Eren's teeth in during the RtS arc, or on the airship in Liberio. When he tortures Zeke in the cart on the way to the capital. These are all instances of Levi giving in to his emotion and responding violently. And no, it's not good, but it also doesn't make Levi bad. It doesn't make his intentions malicious or cruel in nature. In all of these instances of violence on Levi's part, it's driven by an intense emotional response, generally in regard to some traumatic event. Levi learning Erwin might not be the good man he thought he was. Levi having to torture a man for specific information, only to have the point of it threatened by Historia's self-pity. Eren interfering with Levi's direct command during a situation in which time was severely limited in making a decision. Eren slaughtering countless innocent people. Zeke forcing Levi to kill more than two dozen of his own soldiers. All of the examples one could point to of Levi being "unnecessarily" violent, meaning in a way that didn't further some larger goal or cause, were all moments of emotional reaction linked either to trauma or urgency or both. Most of these responses from Levi, in fact, came about because he was upset about someone else getting hurt, or at the possibility of people getting hurt. They're rooted, at their core, in Levi's compassion for others. They're emotional responses triggered by Levi's empathy and care. He gets angry because he's scared or grief stricken over someone else' suffering. And that's my and other fans' only point. Levi's violence might be considered bad by some, but the underlying reasons for it almost always prove Levi's goodness. He responds so strongly because he cares. So to refuse to acknowledge the circumstances and context surrounding those acts of violence and to refuse to acknowledge the influence of his upbringing in his inclination to respond with violence is grossly unjust and unfair to who Levi is as a person. To pretend that his very nature can't be contradictory to his actions and behavior is to deny, not just Levi's complexity as a person, but the complexity of people overall. Because Levi's nature is, much of the time, contradictory to his actions, especially when one only looks at his actions in a vacuum instead of in context. He's a violent man who also holds more kindness and compassion in his heart for people than any other character in the story. That's a contradiction. But it's true, nonetheless. You can be a good person who does bad things, or things deemed wrong by others and society.

Levi doesn't enjoy violence, and anyone who says he does or tries to claim he does is flatly wrong. To say, just because Levi is good at violence, that must mean he's somehow born to it, or that it's in his nature to want to commit it, is equally unjust and unfair in the way it dismisses the circumstances of his life and upbringing. A person can be forced into doing something that goes against their core temperament and personality due to forces outside of their control, and acknowledging that about Levi and his violence isn't the same as claiming him to be a "perfect hero". He's not perfect, but he is a hero. He's a hero because he's inherently selfless and kind and empathetic toward other people and their suffering, because he's willing to do all he can to help other people, despite an upbringing which forced violence and a familiarity with violence into his life, despite a childhood and young adulthood filled with deprivation and poverty. He wasn't born with a violent temperament, he was raised in an environment that necessitated a reliance on violence in order to survive, and so we see that manifest in Levi as an adult. A reliance on violence to survive. Again, to not acknowledge that and the impact it had on Levi's behavior and actions is unjust and unfair to him as a person. A stupid oversimplification of not just Levi as a character, but of people in general, and of the concept of justifiable violence too. Pacifism is an ideal, but one which doesn't and can't always coexist with reality. To judge someone and condemn then for engaging in violence, no matter the circumstances surrounding that violence, when nature itself is predicated on violence, is absurd.

Context matters. Circumstances matter. Intent matters. Levi's violence was never ideological in its reasoning. He never committed acts of violence in service to some abstract school of thought or philosophy. He never killed anyone because he thought they represented or symbolized some great evil or threat to the world and needed to be eradicated as a result. Levi's acts of violence have always been practical in nature. Defense of himself and others against people directly threatening their well being. And further, Levi has never, not once, tried to impose his way of thinking or doing on a single, other person. He's always, always, allowed everyone to decide for themselves. To come to their own conclusions of what they believe is right and wrong, good or bad. He's always allowed everyone their own agency. He's never manipulated or badgered or bullied anyone into agreeing with him or tried to brainwash anyone into a certain set of ideological beliefs. He's only ever wanted and tried to ensure people the freedom to make those decisions for themselves, and he's only ever tried to protect people, more often than not at great cost to himself.

He's the very definition of a hero, and to accuse people who call him that of exhibiting the kind of ideological thinking that leads to Nazism is not only absurd, but a massive insult, both to Levi's character and to the intelligence of his fans. As if they're incapable of understanding the nature of violence because they differentiate between acts of violence by applying critical thought to outside factors and mitigating circumstances. I guess our justice system is similarly incapable of understanding the nature of violence too, then, because it also dares to weigh outside factors and mitigating circumstances when judging a person's "crimes" or "guilt". It isn't the people who apply nuanced thought and consideration to Levi's actions who are susceptible to fanaticism, it's the people making those sorts of accusations who are, in exposing their total inability to divorce themselves from their black and white view of reality.

#Levi Ackerman #meta #commentary #analysis #attack on titan #shingkei no kyojin

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writing-in-glitter-pen · 10 months

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sorry if this is repetitive and/or has been rq already but may i request falling for you & flirting headcanons with itto?? ty in advance if you do this !!!

Omg of course 💅 You already know Itto isn't just going to fall for you, he's going to face plant---absolutely eat shit for you.

When Itto Falls For You---Flirting Headcannons + Lil Fic ♡

Arataki Itto x reader II Romance, Fluff!!

Content Warnings: Arguably stalking (maybe not arguably), crossing physical boundaries, affection without expressed consent (not malicious or explicit), manhandling (not malicious. Just dumb :) ).

I made up the novel name Anniset. Not real! If you know what’s it’s inspired by I will be very proud of you!

Personally, I think Itto would fall for someone with the OPPOSITE energy as him. I mean, if you were just as dumb and reckless as him, Inazuma would sink into the sea in a matter of days. HOWEVER! I think the right person for Itto, despite having opposing energy to him, is just as kind, optimistic and friendly as him!

He just needs someone to balance him out, ya know? Someone who both giggles at his stupid shannanigans, but will hold him back when he's about to do something really stupid.

Also someone who will bail him out of jail. You can't bail him out if you're also in jail.

I think Itto would be attracted to a more composed, cerebral and quiet person. Someone that needs a little nudge to draw them out of their shell! I also say cerebral because man has no thoughts and would greatly appreciate if you shared some of yours with him.

Once his taciturn, soon-to-be lover, gets comfortable enough around him to let their heartful and animated side run free--he falls hard.

If he wasn't already obsessed with you before, he sure as hell is now.

You mean to tell him you're a smartie, but you're also a sweetie?! He's proposing. He's proposing right now. You're gonna have to run to keep him from throwing that ring on your finger and locking you down ASAP.

When it comes to flirting, Itto is...actually...exceptionally smooth.

I know, right?! Since WHEN?!

You'll see.

When Itto is first captivated by you, trust that he will find you and bug you at least once a day. Maybe more. Although he's a bumbling fool (we love you, Itto.), he is a GREAT tracker. And he does not use that skill with grace.

He finds you around lunch time, buying dango in Inazuma city. The next day, he finds you in the morning, reading while propped-up against the well in Konda Villiage. The next next day, he shows up uninvited at your house at 2:00 am, waking you up by throwing rocks at your window. You hadn't told him where you lived.

Each time he finds you, he excitedly beelines it for you, then, catching himself, he slows his pace and smoothes his hair back in an attractive fashion. Surprisingly skillful flirting ensues.

He'll ask you out multiple times. Even if you say yes the first time.

He honestly just can't believe you said yes. He's gotta confirm. Just to make sure. Just double, triple, quadruple checking!

And after you two are in a relationship, that's when the real fun starts.

That's when you have to start bailing him out of jail and putting him on time-out for reckless behavior.

Don't get me wrong, you love his reckless behavior, but you can't tell him that. Cause then he'll do it again, just to make you laugh. So you have to giggle discreetly when he and the gang go sledding down the winding streets of Inazuma city, before composing yourself and scolding him to never do something like that again.

The size difference between you two is hilarious on multiple levels.

He can pick you up and toss you over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes in less than a second. He finds it very funny when you're miffed at him, trying to storm off, just for him to pick you up carry you like a child holding a cat very poorly. Hands under the armpits, man. Legs, simply, dangling. It's even funnier if you kick your legs and yell, as it does nothing to change your situation.

That being said, it is quite the hilarious sight for the citizens of Inazuma to come upon an almost seven-foot Oni being verbally reprimanded by a person that looks so compact next to him. Even if you aren't teeny, you look teeny next to him.

He has a habit of just taking affection from you whenever he feels like it. Oh, you're just standing around? Don't mind if I--he lifts you at least a foot in the air and hugs you to his chest like a teddy bear. Oh, you're reading? That looks like an activity that requires a significant ammount of attention. But like...hear me out...your leg is right there. He grabs you by the ankle and yanks you into his lap---grass stains marr your nice outfit. Good thing Granny Oni has a lot of experience in getting those out--thanks to a certain oni she raised. Who, you ask? Um. Don't worry about it you don't know him.

And don't get me started on the kisses.

He kisses very sloppily. Anywhere he decides to put his lips on you is coated with a layer of saliva when he's done. You end up needing to bring a hankerchief around with you to wipe it up. If that bothers you, you can totally teach him to give softer, cleaner kisses. He'll listen and learn. But even if you do teach him, he sometimes slips up when he's really in the moment. Don't forget that hankercheif!

He loves giving you forehead and cheek kisses---these ones are quick pecks, so no hankerchief necessary. Sometimes, you'll be walking around Inazuma city, only for his gang to rush by with the Kujou officers tailing them, but that doesn't stop Itto from rubber-necking and landing a quick, chaste kiss to your jaw before sprinting off.

Man does NOT care about PDA. Let's be honest, he's done way worse in public. He does not care who's looking while he pepper's your cute face with little kisses. He also does not mind a nice makeout sesh on a park bench. But if YOU do, he'll refrain...begrudingly. He'll sigh dramatically while sitting next to you or shopping, gazing at you with big-puppy eyes full of desire, wanting nothing more than to drag you to him and lock lips--but alas, he must respect your wishes. This leads to two habits; either, he'll pull you in to dark corners or behind cover for a quick makeout, OR, he'll say "Alright! I'm beat! Let's go home!", "Itto we left the house five minutes ago.".

He's just obsessed with you! You're just so perfect! and so so SO adorable!

No one in Inazuma knew why a bright young thing like you would choose the idiot Oni as a partner. You were so clever, so hardworking, you had so much potential, and you were wasting your time with him? They would see you walking the streets, teeny hand in his, a big smile on both of your faces and wonder—how did a pair like that ever get together?

On the day you met, the late-morning sun gave Inazuma an aura of serenity as you sat in your favorite reading spot underneath a blooming cherry blossom tree in Byakko Plain. Although it was 10:00 am, it was still quite chill outside, a light mist in the air, but you didn't need a jacket; you appreciated the pure and clean feeling this weather gave you while you turned the pages of your newest piece of literature. It was a novel written from the perspective of a monster, depicting how the public eye misinterprets him, labelling him a stupid animal, a hostile beast, until he ultimately believes what they say about him, despite what he knew to be true about himself. You've always had a soft spot for misunderstood creatures, always holding a heart full of empathy and adoration for them. A box of Sakura buns you had purchased on your way to the special place you had carved out for yourself after many visits sat next to you for you to much on as you read---they were a compact snack, something you could enjoy without dirtying the precious parchment of your novel.

Humming happily and tilting your head to the side, you thought, this is such a perfect morning!

You jinxed yourself.

Immediately after the thought crossed your mind, a gush of wind flew by you, flipping the pages of your book in its wake, as a gang of reckless idiots fumbled over themselves in panic--what they were running from was unbenknowst to you. As you turned your head, gaze following them, you caught one of them babble, “the boss is handling it!".

You wondered who "the boss" was, until only a minute later, when a nearly 7-foot oni came barrelling down the path, yelping, "oh man oh man oh man!!!!!".

The stranger’s panicked gaze met your wide eyes, sakura bun still in your mouth, before he slid in next to you under the tree.

"Just be cool, ok?!" he pleaded, smoothing his clothes out and getting into a "natural" position (he was doing the hand to back-of-head one knee bent centerfold pinup pose and whistling).

What exactly you had to "be cool" for came marching up the path. The head of the Tenreyou Commission, Kujou Sara, followed by at least nine lackey solidiers, haulted when their attention turned to the oni beside you. He visably tensed, violently averting his gaze and whistling harder.

The head of the group stepped up, voice blaring an order at the poor oni beside you, "Arataki Itto! You are under arrest for your presence and part in the malicious prank made on the stature of the electro archo--"

"What are you talking about?", your sweet voice rang out.

The woman was gagged by your interruption, looking wide-eyed at you before narrowing her eyes, "I am talking about the crime just now committed by this insane gang leader an--" "He's been here with me for the past hour now." you say, placing the Sakura bun you'd been mid-bite-in into the oni's mouth and laying your now free hand on top of his, "there's no way he could've taken part in something like that.".

Itto thought you were a literal angel. Thank the archons you had covered his mouth with the sakura bun, closing his jaw that was once on the floor. Why were you lying for him? He didn't even know you!

Sara's glare hardened, now turning her full attention to you, stepping towards you and leaning in close. "Purposefully feeding false information to an officer of the law is a punishable offence." she seethed.

"That's why I would never do it!" you chirp innocently.

Sara looked to the oni for a long moment, almost like she was trying to burn a hole through his skull from her eyes. But alas, she was powerless against your tesimony in the face of her lack of definite evidence. So she had to relent.

"Fine.", she growled, "I hope you know how stupid what you just did was.". Before you could retort, she signalled to her men and turned back in the direction they came--marching off.

The oni's shoked gaze was still stuck on you, even as you flippantly returned to your reading.

He didn't know what to say. Should he thank you?? You were so carefree about this whole situation, he was starting to believe he actually had been here for the past hour. Why else would you be so ok right now?! Was he a warlock? Was him telling you to be cool actually a spell? Were you heaven-sent? Were you real?

"...whatcha readin'?", was all he could think to say.

You turned to him with a warm smile, leaning in to show him the cover of your novel. "Anniset", you replied and proceeded to tell him what it was about.

You squeezed the hand you were still holding as you talked, making Itto blush and look down at where you were connected as you went on explaining not only the plot, but the arcs of the characters, the various symbols throughout the story, and even recited some of your favorite quotes from memory.

You hadn't actually expected him to listen. No one really cared to hear the takeaways you gleaned from the literature you consumed. But when your analysis had ended and you turned your gaze back to him, you were surprised to see his eyes glittering and expression intent on understanding you.

"Wow. You talk nice.", he stated in awe.

"Oh! Thank you!". Now he was convinced you're an angel. Your smile was so gentle and warm, he'd never seen one like it before!

"I'm Itto."

"I'm Y/N!"

You two chatted for the better part of an hour that day, exchanging pieces of information about yourselves for one another’s unique thoughts. You learned that Itto was the leader of a gang, that he enjoyed beating children at schoolyard games, and that he could not hold down a job for the life of him—nor did he want to. What an interesting character, you cheerfully thought. The subtext you took away from his description his of the ridiculous life he lived was that he was a free-thinker, he was reckless but he did everything heart-first, he was impulsive but brave, and most of all…he was really hot. His chaotic gesticulations would have your gaze falling to his large hands and muscly forearms, then his exposed abs. You felt bad for eyeing him up, trying to focus on his stupid jokes and answer his questions—but you were rightfully distracted.

Thankfully, he didn’t seem to notice.

Cause he was too busy eyeing you up as well.

He hadn’t thought about it yet, too caught up in conversation with what seemed to be the smartest person he had ever met, but after his eyes accidentally caught on your soft pink lips while you were describing your favorite story tropes, he realized…man you are a cutie!

Your interaction ended after only an hour—you had to go to work, and he said he had important business to attend to…he was going beetle beetle fighting, but he wanted to sound as sophisticated as you!

You didn’t expect to see Itto again—it was only natural to meet an acquaintance one day and that be the end of your relationship. You were glad you met Itto, inspired by his outlook on life and his positivity.

Itto thought about you all night.

He told his gang about you, wildly gesticulating in his fervor—clutching his heart, pretending to faint, squeezing his cheeks and throwing his hands to the sky. “I’m in love, dudes!” “Itto…you just met.” “I know love when I feel it!!!”.

You may have been content with him only being a whisper in the wind throughout the expanse of your life.

…but Itto wasn’t.

He couldn’t let a cute little thing like you just slip away!!

The next day, you just "happened" to meet Itto again in the marketplace of Inazuma city! You two walked the shopping district together, him joining you on your errands—having none of his own to complete. He wasn’t in the marketplace to shop. He just abused his natural aptitude for tracking. Itto became a consistent presence in your life, you found yourself happily anticipating his arrival throughout your day; you would have something new you were excited to talk to him about, or picked up a book you thought he might like, or you were having a poor day and were longing for his dumb jokes to make you feel better. Your heart would sputter and thump every time you thought about him, every time you turned a corner, hoping that maybe he was just around it…you had a major crush!

Your poor lovesick heart would melt even more as he would flirt with you throughout your day. While you’d be reading up against a wall while waiting for the takeout you ordered at a nearby kiosk to be ready, he’d surprise you by resting his forearm on the wall just above your head, leaning down to whisper “Well hello there cute thing, didn’t expect to see you here~” yes he did expect to see you here but that wasn’t the point. He loved the way your cheeks turned pink, but you’d just laugh and smack his chest. He’d bring you gifts too, saying things like, “I found this pretty flower earlier, good thing I found someone just as pretty to give it to~”. After you two would part ways from a flirting sesh, Itto would pump his fist in the air and yell “ALRIGHT!”…even when he was still in view. Each time you had such intimate encounters with the Oni, they were never…quite as intimate as you thought, his bumbling gang members poorly hidden behind stacks of barrels, crates, lamposts, all cheerfully whispering and celebrating every time their boss landed a pickup.

Itto hadn’t thought you could get any more perfect than you already were, but once you started relaxing and becoming more animated and loud, he was positively knocked on his ass. You were the one. You had to be. Not only were you a smartie, you had such an adorable interior! You were so spunky and funny, you’d make him laugh so hard he choked on his spit. He was falling even harder than he was before.

After spending multiple weeks by your side, becoming more and more enamored with you each passing hour, he decided that now was the time. He was going to ask you out!

You had a very precise night time routine. You’d shower, wash your face, brush your teeth, do your skincare, get into some cozy pajamas and get to bed at a time that wouldn’t leave you groggy before work in the morning. You valued your sleep for you took your work and precious hours of daylight seriously. You had no problem sleeping through the night, once you were out, you were out.

…but not tonight.

You were awoken in the middle of the night by the sound of tapping at your window. At first, you had tried to ignore it, thinking it was probably some pesky crow or the branches of a tree hitting the glass…but the sound just kept going. You drug yourself up to investigate and put a stop to the sound, only to meet a pair of peeping eyes on the other side of your window.

You jumped out of your skin.

Itto felt really bad.

After getting ahold of yourself, clutching your heart in an attempt to steady it, you opened your window to let your Oni in.

“Oh man, I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to scare you.”

You shook your head and took a deep breath, “It’s fine. What brings you here, Itto?”

He jumped to fumble through his jacket, pulling out a amateurely wrapped package tied with a bow. Taking the mangy looking thing in to your hands brought a giggle to your lips, it was just so Itto. You loved the little chaotic details he would add to everything he touched. Unwrapping the gift, you were surprised to find a teeny-bopper-targeted romance novel. It was a simple story, but you loved a good eye candy read.

“Oh Itto, this is so sweet! Thank you! But…what’s the occasion?”

“Well…uh…” he stuttered, rubbing the back of his neck and looking away, suddenly bashful, “I want us to be like them.”. Good thing his gang members weren’t watching now, he was a mess!

It took you a moment to clock exactly what he meant, staring at him confused with a tilt of your head, until realization brought a joyful grin to your features.

You squealed, causing Itto to book it for the window again, until you caught him—throwing your arms around his shoulders, your feet dangling slightly off the floor, “Itto! Yes!”.

Nobody in Inazuma understood why you would choose the idiot Oni as a partner. But you did. You saw Itto’s best features—features that were hidden from judge mental view. He was compassionate, thoughtful, and, if he applied himself, even quite clever. He couldn’t exactly keep up with your literature conversation, but he had the open heart and mind to listen, which was more than anyone else ever gave you. Others may have saw your monetary potential, but Itto saw your creativity, which made you so beautiful in his eyes. You were a gleaming light in his life, just like he was in yours. You brought out the best in one another, Itto was more grounded and thoughtful, and you were more jubilant and carefree!

Itto’s love was something you felt honored to receive. Even when he manhandled you like a child with a house cat. Even when he got in trouble with the law. Even when his kisses were sloppy and he would get needy every five minutes. He was your Itto. And he was perfect for you ♡

#when your draft doesn’t save the first time you’re ready to post it but you’re DETERMINED to answer this ask #the things I do for you ily #ataraki itto #itto x gender neutral reader #itto x reader #itto fluff #itto x y/n #itto x you #itto genshin impact #arataki itto #genshin x reader #genshin fluff #genshin romance #genshin x gender neutral reader #genshin x gn reader #genshin x y/n #genshin x you #genshin impact itto #genshin impact

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libbys-braincell-loss · 5 days

Text

Im bored as hell so heres a short SMG4 x SMG3 oneshot (idk what to name it)

(Kinda angst? Not exactly, it also mostly includes some wholesome fluff too; takes place after the events of the Puzzlevision movie and references IGBP, so spoilers for that ig lol)

(Also its really short)

---

SMG4 was out for a walk, late in the evening outside of the castle. He was lost in thought - a lot of things were eating him up inside his mind since the day Mr. Puzzles took him and his friends and forced them to perform in his dumbass shows.

Just one thing was going through his mind.

When Mr. Puzzles showed him his corrupted behavior when he was going through the phase where he absolutely had to make the perfect video ever.

"Who knew that you could make such a great villain?" Mr. Puzzles had said.

He really did become a villain, didn't he..?

That was an entire year ago, and he still regretted his choices and still beats himself up over moments like that.

SMG4 stands in places and observes the pebbles on the ground.

"SMG4?"

The familiar voice surprised him. He turned around, and not too far away from where he stood was SMG3, holding his beloved Eggdog.

"What are you doing out and about at this hour?" SMG3 asked.

"I could ask the same to you?" SMG4 said in return.

"I always let Eggdog roam around at this hour," SMG3 said, putting Eggdog on the ground, as he hops off. "It's quiet out. No one, specifically Mario, is up at this hour to disturb our peace. It's real nice. ...Why are you out here? You're rarely out and about this late."

SMG4 sighs. "I've had things on my mind, and I thought touching grass would clear my head, y'know?" He chuckles.

SMG3 begins expressing concern, but is very quick to hide it. "What's up?"

SMG4 observes the ground. "Do you realize that I went through that... 'absolute perfection' phase over a year ago? Can you believe it's been that long?"

"Oh, shit," SMG3's eyes widen. "Time really flew by, huh?"

"...Yeah."

SMG4 stares sadly at his castle, not too far away.

"To think that something so impressive and monumental... wouldn't be here if I didn't do something so dumb."

SMG3 worriedly steps closer to him, realizing what's up.

"Is Mr. Puzzles' comment bothering you?"

SMG4 looks at 3. He nods.

"I just... hate the fact I was so selfish that I ended up hurting the people I cared for most," SMG4 says, blinking back tears creeping through his tearducts. "I didn't want to be a villain, I never wanted to..."

SMG4 buries his face in his hands. SMG3 inches closer, holding out his arms, but ultimately deciding against putting hands on the person considered his rival, so he lowered his arms.

"I never considered you a villain, SMG4."

4 looks up at 3.

"You were blindsighted, but the stupid keyboard corrupting you up was out of your control," says SMG3. "You are a dumbass, not a villain. You never had malicious intent. Mr. Puzzles is wrong and we are all thankful he's dead. He was such a sicko-"

SMG3 gets cut off, as SMG4 hugs him. SMG3 feels 4 silently sobbing into his shoulder. He is in a stun lock for a second, before coming to terms that 4 was hugging him. He wraps his own arms around his crying "nemesis". He gently rubs his back reassuringly.

"4, I promise you, you are no villain. You could never be a villain like me." SMG3 says, chuckling.

He feels SMG4 chuckle a teensy bit while buried in his shoulder, reassuring 3 that he would be okay, thus bringing him back at ease.

"Says the person who saved my life and called me a friend," SMG4 says, face still up against SMG3.

"Not like you said anything different when you saved my life," SMG3 chuckled.

SMG4 slowly lifts his face away from SMG3's shoulder.

"If I didn't know better, I'd say you cared about me," SMG4 said half jokingly.

SMG3 smiles sadly.

"I'll be honest, I'm tired of pretending I don't."

SMG4 and SMG3 look into each others eyes. 4 smiles slyly.

"I knew it. I knew you were a tsundere."

SMG3 gently pushes SMG4 away from him, smiling and pretending to be mad. "Don't make me actually hate you."

4 chuckles.

SMG3 looks at him again. "Are you sure you're okay now?"

SMG4 smiles.

"Much better, thanks to you."

SMG3 smiles, looking to the ground.

"Don't mention it. ..Seriously, don't mention it. If Meggy hears about this, I will not hear the end of it."

SMG4 grins, and begins walking back toward his castle, as Eggdog walks up to his owner, ready to head inside.

"I heart you too, SMG3," SMG4 says before walking to the castle entrance.

SMG3 rolls his eyes, smiling, as he picks up Eggdog and the two head back into the cafe.

#smg4 #smg4 fanfic #smg43 #smg34 #smg4 smg3 #smg4 x smg3 #smg4 eggdog #smg4 puzzlevision #puzzlevision arc #puzzlevision movie #smg4 its gotta be perfect #smg4 igbp #its gotta be perfect

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fillinforlater · 8 months

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i kinda agrer w the anon like ig the older members r fine but if u plan on writing for new jeans rhe maknae is 14/15…

A measured Response

While I think the other anon who send the initially accusation is still the one sending asks to my inbox, I also think that you are another person. I will strengthen and steel-man your concerns/argument, though it will always baffle me that y'all have these ridiculous spelling errors. Seriously, guys, at least try to type coherent messages/a literal paragraph with no mistakes.

(To those of you who do, thank you <3)

For some fucking reason I feel like I have to make this a thing. I should not, really. These accusations are baseless, I'm not the thing he wants to frame me as, so on and so on, but because I think you are genuinely kinda worried what I meant, I'll explain it to you.

(I'm not sorry if I sound condescending or anything, because I am)

It started with this ask, which basically asked me:

"Do you plan on writing NewJeans in the future?"

Now, being human and (probably) understanding English as well as context, this is what I (and probably 99% of other people with the right context) assumed this person meant:

"Do you plan on writing a fic about any of the 18+ NewJeans members in the future?"

bUt tHaT iSnT wHaT tHeY aSkEd!?

You cannot possibly reach that conclusion. Seriously, go look at literally every fic I ever wrote. Age of the idols? Ranging from 30 something down to 18, the absolute hard legal and (I guess) moral minimum, the line I don't cross.

If you go to my page or just open this weird ass tab from Tumblr (fuck Tumblr), you see stuff like "18+ Girl Group fic writer" or "No minors" or (from my Biaslists & Writelist & Requests tab) "Remember that I said most and 18+. This automatically excluded all 18- idols... I won't write those." This is easily understandable, obvious context to the message from above.

Or did you think I would just write about literal new jeans, like an review or something? No, of course not.

Oh, you can also look at my response, like... I specifically mention Hanni and Danielle, two 18+ idols, very popular, probably the two (including I guess Minji) the asker probably meant.

Now the point where I might look like an idiot if I take you seriously:

I responded to the baseless accusation with a GIF of Hanni, the focus on an easily identifiable part (her ass). The response of the accuser (still in my inbox):

"You just admitted you're a pedo"

Wrong and cringe.

Granted, you did not know this message (if you are a different person), yet you still, after seeing the Hanni GIF decided to say this. Either you are fucking stupid or this is maliciously framing me. Pick your poison.

(BTW: You are stupid because Hanni is 18. International age. Whatever the fuck Koreans use/used to use does not count, but she is also "19"/an adult there)

If you now need it black on white (or white on black), here it goes:

I'm not a pedo. I'm even against idols debuting under the age of 18.

(Why did I even bother? I dunno man, now it's out of the system)

With that said, I got some ideas for a Hanni fic (still very basic, but god, she is gorgeous and hot) and for a Danielle fic (funnily, it's not even a smut).

Everyone, have a nice day and some pretty Minji <3

#kpop smut #female idol smut #newjeans smut #newjeans fanfic #why am I responding to idiots

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poisonsage808 · 1 year

Note

hi sorry i've never done one of these before but i LOVE the way you write and saw that your ask requests were open so i was wondering if you'd do "Stay still, I don't want to hurt you" with Sandor Clegane from the injury prompt list?

(obsessed with how you write Sandor you're amazing)

a/n: you’re amazing! thank you, this was fun to write!

Sandor Clegane x GN!Reader

When the Hound was on the loose people ran. There were a handful of reasons he wouldn’t be bound to his prince; off duty perhaps, on an errand, but wearing such a murderous expression? Brows dipping down in irritation, lips curled somewhere between a frown and a snarl and his eyes- though no one looked into them- were burning with rage. They pray it’s not because of them because for some, it would be the last face some poor, idiot fool would ever see.

And what would have Sandor Clegane, the Hound, so fucking pissed? Hearing rumor his.. well.. he didn’t rightly know what you were to him. A drinking buddy. Perhaps. A second question arose, why he would be so fucking irritated hearing you were rushed to a maester, injured.

You’d fallen off a horse, someone whispered. He knew better than to listen to rumors, pacing himself on his way to find you. Maliciously tripped, another said and suddenly he was on a warpath.

Only to find you weren’t with any maester. No, Sandor picked the fucking stubbornest of all Westeros to attatch himself to. Not that you knew any of this, of course. Sandor was careful to hide whatever it was— whatever this is that he felt for you.

“The fuck are you doing?” He asked through grit teeth if only to keep himself from snarling the question.

He sounded angry. Livid, actually, that you were limping around the keep and that people just let you? Still, he couldn’t help but feel the smallest amount of relief that he found you.

“Going to my room.” You replied, smoothing your hand along the wall with every pathetic step.

“Stop.” Sandor ordered, moving closer from behind.

“It’s not that bad,” You barely turned your head, “I don’t need your help.”

If you thought he was pissed before, he’s downright seething now.

“I wasn’t offering my bloody help, I told you to stop!”

“No!” You take another step and your leg threatens to drop you.

“Fuckin’ stubborn…” A string of colorful curses followed under his breath as he finally decided to close the gap between you.

Sandor’s massive hand snakes around your waist but before he does anything, you flinch. What he couldn’t see is that under your clothes, where his grip came to, the outer evidence of your injury was a bruise that traveled from your hip down to your knee. You’d indeed fallen from your horse, she reared up on her hind legs after she’d been spooked by a stupid guard and threw you off.

“Let go—!”

“Stop!” He shouts and you freeze.

You stop wriggling not because you’re scared but because his voice wavers. Dare you say it almost sounded like a plea. Him? No, surely you’re mistaken, the Hound does not plead, he does not ask; he commands! And yet…

“Stay still,” He mumbled, uncharacteristically soft. So soft you think your heart stopped, “…I don’t wanna hurt you.”

Sandor carefully shifted his grip around you until you were in his arms and fully off the ground. You were both silent after that.

He carried you like this once before when you were so drunk you could hardly lift your head. He carried you all the way from the pub in Fleabottom to your chambers in the Red Keep, like you weighed absolutely nothing to him. You remember talking his good ear off, slurring about everything you could think of only to earn grunts and small chuckles in return. You remember laughing, thanking him when he literally dropped you in your bed and you remember the look he gave you before he left, but you don’t remember what you said to earn that expression.

It was soft, much like now though his eyes were ahead. This didn’t feel like then. This felt intimate.

Sandor maneuvered you in his hold so he could carry you in one hand and open your door with the other. He placed you on your bed carefully and moved away slowly. Then he turned to leave and it was as if your heart started back up again.

“Wait.” You reached out to grab him.

“I’ll be back. Gonna get a maester.”

“Sandor.”

He stilled completely.

“Can you just,” You sighed with a tiny, nervous smile, “stay with me for a bit? I don’t feel like being prodded and poked at just yet.”

The beast of a man hesitated, something else you swear was impossible for him.

“What would you have me do? Sit here and be useless?” Sandor growled over his shoulder.

“You’d be comforting me.” You say earnestly, “We drink in silence most of the time, this wouldn’t be too different, would it?”

He shakes his head and scoffs but it turns into a chuckle, “You wouldn’t know silence if it hit you in the forehead. Talk too damn much.”

You roll your eyes, “Well this is the first I’ve heard of you complaining about it so you must not mind that much.”

Sandor shakes his head again, offering silence as his answer. He watches the way you pat the unoccupied space on your bed, on the opposite side of your injured leg. Sandor rolls his eyes to let you know how begrudging he is to do this for you, but he still does it.

You may not remember but this is what you asked him that night you were belligerent. ‘Please.. stay with me?’ you’d asked so sweetly, your eyes already closing when he made it to the door, ‘Sandor.. stay.’

He chalked it up to you being drunk but you were sober now and probably in pain. Pain you believed he could soothe? Sandor wished he could scoff at the idea. However your head rested on his armored bicep, eyes closed with a small smile on your face. He very well couldn’t deny it now, could he?

He may not know what you are to him just yet but he can confidently assume.. no, he doesn’t mind at all.

♡ do not enter is written in the doorway. why cant everybody just go away? except you. you can stay. ♡

#game of thrones imagine #sandor clegane x reader #game of thrones #sandor the hound clegane #poiboidrabbles #x reader #imagine #writeblr

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