#I'm sorry but God is taking so long with this
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While I find the explanation of the Jewish view of conversion interesting, and am glad to have had it explained, because it is genuinely new information to me, I would like to correct a slight misunderstanding of the Christian view of conversion for the sake of your comparison. (Jewish by ethnicity, Christian by faith speaking)
While Christian conversion does have an aspect of what you called a "bargain" (believe in Jesus and br saved from eternal Hell), there is more to it than that, and no one who converts to Christianity would see it as simply a bargain. In fact, if anyone who claimed to be a Christian saw it as simply a bargain, I'd doubt the genuineness of their Christianity. Being a Christian is about more than just holding a certain set of beliefs. The Christian scriptures say that even the demons believe in God, and shutter. We believe that God wants a personal relationship with us, and that converting is entering into that relationship. We believe God literally adopts us as His sons and daughters when we become Christians. But also that converting to Christianity involves recognizing Him as Lord and King over our lives, and submitting ourselves to obey Him.
What you call a bargain is part of it. We believe that all humans have broken God's laws and are deserving of punishment, but that God loved us enough to take on flesh and live the perfect sinless life we could never live and die the death we deserve so that if we trust Him, and trust what He did for us, we will be saved. But even then, it's not about giving mental assent to the idea of what He did, it's about trusting Him. And being saved is more about spending eternity with our heavenly Father than about not spending it in Hell.
We also believe that this conversion is something every Christian has to do, not just those coming from other religions. We believe you can't be born a Christian, and even if raised in a Christian household must choose to become a Christian at some point to actually be one. I know this wasn't an aspect that was brought up earlier, but I do think it's another interesting difference in the views on conversion.
Sorry this reblog wound up being so long, I'm not good at explaining things concisely, and I'm really tired so brevity is even more difficult. In summary, the Christian view of conversion is more about entering a personal relationship with God than about a bargain, but that relationship does come with eternal salvation of the soul, which is why we have such an emphasis on prosthelatizing. I hope this has actually been a helpful addition to the conversation and not just my inane ramblings at 2 am
My favorite, and I mean FAVORITE teaching of Judaism is that proselytizing is wrong. It’s the one Christians have the hardest time understanding. That even though Judaism is an incredible part of my life, that it’s an incredible community to be apart of, that I could not care less about wether or not they choose to become apart of it. That conversion is possible, and converts are a welcome part of our community and no less Jewish than anyone else, but at the same time we do not seek out people to convert. In addition, conversion is a very serious decision, and the conversion process is lengthy and difficult.
It’s because while I love being Jewish, and I love my community, I do not think that Jewishness is required to live a happy and productive life. I know that it is not right for everyone. I know that for most, the conversion process is not something they view as worth the time and effort. And that is okay. No one HAS to be Jewish. No one should EVER be coerced, manipulated, or forced into conversion.
If someone chooses to convert, it is because THAT PERSON wanted to. They saw something of value in the teachings and community. I think that means so much more than “convert or you’re going to burn for eternity because you are a bad person.”
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╰ ﹒ (sorta) long awaited PART 2 to this DEAN BLURB. 🍋🟩
i'm shit at writing a second part to any standalone FICS or BLURBS so i'm rlly sorry if this isn't the 'makeup sex' type blurb yall were lookin' for <3
⎯⎯ warning(s) smut | emotional vulnerability | strong language | semi-public sex | rough sex | praise kink | dirty talk (yum) | jealousy | overstimulation | POSSESSIVE!DEAN | power dynamics | mirror sex. ఌ︎ EIGHTEEN PLUS! ADULT CONTENT | minors do NOT interact.
the bar is loud, filled with the familiar hum of conversations, clinking glasses, and the occasional burst of laughter. you sit at a table near the back, surrounded by a few of your close friends—hunters like you, women who know the life, know the dangers, and are just as good at blowing off steam after a successful hunt. tonight, the drinks flow easily, and the laughter comes even easier. it's rare to get a reprieve like this, to have a night off where you can just relax and enjoy yourself. you deserve it. you know you do.
but even as your friends trade stories and jokes, your mind keeps drifting. keeps circling back to him. DEAN WINCHESTER. it's been weeks since you left him in that motel room, since you walked away without an explanation, with only a hastily written note. you haven't spoken to him since, haven't called, haven't reached out. not because you didn't want to. GOD, you wanted to. but fear held you back. fear of what he felt, of what you felt, of how everything had changed with those three words he'd let slip between gasps of pleasure.
i love you.
you still hear his voice in your head, still feel the way his body had tensed beneath you when he realized what he'd said. you'd thought about calling him a hundred times, a thousand times actually, to tell him you felt the same. that the reason you ran was because you were scared—scared of how much you loved him, how deeply you'd fallen without even realizing it. but every time you picked up the phone, you hesitated, and the moment passed.
now, sitting in this bar, surrounded by friends, you can't help but wonder if you made a mistake. if walking away from him was the worst decision you could've made. but before you can spiral any further, you hear it—a laugh. a deep, familiar laugh that sends a shock of recognition through your entire body.
you freeze, your drink halfway to your lips, as you turn your head and see him. DEAN WINCHESTER. standing at the entrance of the bar, his brother, sam, by his side. dean doesn't see you at first, too busy scanning the room, probably taking in the scene out of habit, always the hunter, always alert. but then his eyes snap to yours.
it feels like the air is sucked from the room. your heart stutters in your chest, and for a moment, you can't move, can't breathe. he looks just like you remember—broad shoulders, brown leather jacket, that chiseled jawline you've traced with your fingers more times than you can count. but there's something in his eyes, a flicker of something raw and unresolved, and you know he's thinking about that night, about the last time you saw each other.
he doesn't move. neither do you.
but his gaze lingers on you, even as a blonde woman sidles up to him, clearly trying to get his attention. she's pretty—tall, curvy, the kind of woman who turns heads in a place like this. but dean barely spares her a glance, his eyes locked on you like he can't tear himself away. you feel a surge of something hot and uncomfortable twist in your chest—jealousy, anger, desire. god, you miss him. you miss him so much it hurts.
and it's not just him. it's the way he made you feel, the way he looked at you like you were the only thing that mattered, the way his hands felt on your skin, rough and gentle all at once. the way he'd held you that night, the way he'd said he loved you, like it was the most natural thing in the world. like he couldn’t help it.
you tear your gaze away, pretending to focus on the conversation at your table, but your mind is spinning. your body is buzzing with the awareness of him, of how close he is, of how much you want him. but the thought of facing him, of having that conversation, of admitting how you feel... it terrifies you.
so you do the only thing you can think of. you excuse yourself, telling your friends you need to use the bathroom, and slip away from the table, weaving through the crowded bar until you reach the small, dingy restroom at the back. you close the door behind you, the fluorescent lights flickering overhead, and lean against the sink, staring at your reflection in the cracked mirror.
your heart is racing, your skin flushed, and all you can think about is dean. about the way his muscles flexed under that leather jacket, the way he looked at you like he was starving for you. heat pools low in your belly, and filthy thoughts flood your mind—thoughts of him pressing you against the mirror, fucking you from behind until you're a mess, just like he did that night in the motel.
you squeeze your eyes shut, trying to push the thoughts away, but it's no use. your body wants him. you want him.
and then the door creaks open.
your eyes snap open, and you see him—dean, standing in the doorway, his eyes dark with that same hunger you feel. he steps inside, closing the door behind him, locking it with a click. your heart pounds in your chest, and you can't move, can't speak, as he crosses the small space between you, his body heat radiating off him in waves.
he doesn't say a word. he doesn't have to.
his hands are on you in an instant, rough and desperate, pulling at your clothes, as you do the same to him. his leather jacket hits the floor, followed by your shirt, your jeans, his belt clinking as he yanks it free. his breath is hot against your neck, and he's whispering in your ear, his voice low and gravelly.
"you're such a bad girl for leaving me like that," he growls, his teeth grazing the sensitive skin of your throat. "but god, y'feel so fucking good... s'perfect."
his words send a shiver down your spine, and you can't stop the whimper that escapes your lips as he spins you around, pressing you against the mirror. your breath fogs the glass as his hands grip your hips, his body pressing against yours from behind. he wastes no time, thrusting into you with a force that makes your knees buckle, but his strong arms hold you steady, keep you grounded.
you're a mess beneath him, a blubbering, trembling mess as he fucks you hard and fast, his hips pistoning into yours with a desperation that matches your own. he's everywhere, all at once—his hands, his mouth, his body consuming you, and you can't think, can't breathe, can't do anything but feel.
"you're mine,” he growls, his voice rough and possessive in your ear. "you've always been mine."
and it's true. you know it's true. you've always been his.
you lose track of time, of how many times you come, his name spilling from your lips like a prayer, your body shaking with the force of it. by the time he finally pulls out of you, you're spent, your legs trembling, your breath ragged. but dean takes care of you, cleaning you up, pressing soft kisses to your skin as he helps you back into your clothes, his touch gentle and tender, so different from the roughness of moments ago.
when you're both dressed, you turn to him, your eyes meeting his, and without thinking, you pull him into a kiss. it's not like the others—it's not fueled by lust or desperation. this kiss is soft, slow, full of something deeper, something you've been too afraid to admit 'til now.
when you finally pull away, dean looks at you, his eyes searching yours. "what was that for?" he asks, his voice quiet, vulnerable.
you take a deep breath, your heart pounding in your chest. "i love you," you admit, the words catching in your throat. "and i'm sorry for leaving you like that. i was scared. but, fuck… i love you too, dean. i always have."
the smile that breaks across his face is like sunrise, brilliant and beautiful. he pulls you close again, pressing his body into yours. "yeah?"
"yeah," you whisper back. "turns out you're kind of hard to resist, winchester."
he laughs, the sound rumbling through his chest where you're pressed against him. "good thing i'm not trying to resist you anymore either, sweetheart."
when you eventually make your way back to the bar, sam takes one look at your slightly disheveled appearance and dean's stupid grin and rolls his eyes, but he's smiling. your friends are also giving you knowing looks, and the blonde from earlier has long since found another target.
none of that matters, because dean's hand finds yours again, and this time, neither of you are running anywhere. he also pulls you close to him again, his lips finding yours in a kiss that was both tender and passionate, a promise of something more.
something real.
꣑୧ UNOFFICIAL TAGLIST. @anqeliclust @aileenunfiltered @embarrasingmf @stereotypicalbarbie @ninii-winchester @suckitands33 @ohheyguyss @spxideyver @artyandink @titsout4nicholas 𓂃 ݁ 𖦹
#꣑୧ writings.#dean winchester#dean winchester smut#dean winchester x fem reader#dean winchester x y/n#dean winchester x reader#dean winchester blurb#dean winchester x you#dean winchester one shot#dean winchester imagines#dean imagine#dean smut#dean winchester angst#dean x female!reader#dean x y/n#dean x reader#dean winchester fluff#dean winchester x female!reader#dean winchester imagine#dean x you#dean angst#dean fluff#supernatural#supernatural x female reader#supernatural smut#jensen ackles#jensen ackles smut#jackles
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The Proposal AU! (part three)
Summary: when your boss Agatha faces the threat of deportation, she convinces you to marry her in return for a promotion- and things only get more complicated with a trip to Salem, an eccentric tarot-card-reading aunt, and a homophobic mother to convince.
Agatha Harkness x Fem!Reader
TW: deportation (which I admit I know very little about I'm not American lol) suggestive themes, sort of arranged marriage
W.C: roughly 1.4k words
PARTS: ONE, TWO
As soon as you left Hayward’s office, Agatha started furiously typing on her phone, the crease between her brows growing deeper with each step out the building. You simply followed; uncertain of what else you were meant to be doing right now. Packing, you supposed. But your first priority was to get some information out of the woman, who was currently on a mission to remove herself from the building, striding at least three steps ahead of you at all times.
It wasn’t until you were both sitting in the taxi that you finally had the chance to speak. “So…” You started, paused, then realised she wasn’t going to put her phone down anytime soon. You sighed. “We’re going to Salem?”
“Unfortunately,” Agatha murmured. “If I can get in contact with my mother, that is.” She spat, resuming her frantic typing.
You scowled, leant closer to peak at the phone screen and tried desperately to ignore the way her perfume pleasantly filled your nostrils. Something about being in close proximity with Agatha was mesmerising. It always had been, but it seemed this latest situation was worsening your complex feelings towards her. If someone asked you to label it, you would say admiration, but deep down you knew it was something greater than that. You simply refused to acknowledge it.
“So, you weren’t originally going to visit?”
Despite having to be involved in Agatha’s life, you had never heard her talk about her family. Not once. It didn’t surprise you. It was near impossible to picture the woman in any scenario other than sitting behind a desk, winding up one of your coworkers for their incompetence, or shmoozing a business deal. Although you imagined her prickly personality had to come from somewhere, and shuddered to think what her mother might be like.
“No.” Agatha scoffed. “I try my best to stay as far away from family gatherings as possible.”
“I’m guessing you’re not close…?” You questioned, slow and cautious.
“God no.” She shook her head, strands of hair coming loose from the vehement movement. “I want nothing to do with my mother and her coven of freaks.”
You tutted, suppressing a smirk at her colourful choice of language. But instead of pursuing the topic further, you turned to look at the scenery flying past the window. “Shouldn’t have mentioned it to Hayward then…”
“Well, with your parents ever so conveniently out of the country, it did appear suspicious that we wouldn’t tell a single soul.”
“Could’ve eloped.” You murmured.
“Sorry, darling.” Agatha droned; her tone petulant. “Next time I’ll set us up a nice horse-drawn carriage down to the registry office.”
You took in a deep breath, ignoring the surge of irritation at her smarminess, something you recognised you would have to learn to cope with for the next painful while. You had no idea how long this whole process would take, and realised with a sudden stab of guilt that you would have to eventually inform your parents of this decision.
If you explained it was to keep your boss’ position at the company, rather than any dumb, spontaneous act of love, they would surely understand, right?
“Agatha?” You called, met by a hum of acknowledgement. “Are you telling your family the real reason for this marriage, or are we going to have to keep faking it?”
“Oh, my mother’s a raging homophobe.” Agatha chuckled bitterly, refusing to meet your eyes. “If she doesn’t immediately kick you out, I’m going to enjoy riling her up.”
“That doesn’t answer my question.”
At last, Agatha’s focus was diverted from her phone as she looked briefly over to you, mildly intrigued by your perseverance. “I was just going to see how it went when we get there.” She replied, shrugging.
“Great…”
“And until then, don’t mention this to a single soul.” Agatha jabbed an accusatory finger in your direction. “We continue as normal for the next day and a half, with me singlehandedly driving this company to success, and you following me about all dazed and heart-eyed.”
“What!” You protested. “I do not follow you about, nor do I have heart eyes!”
“Whatever you say, sweetheart.” She smirked, radiating an irritating charm that had you forgetting how to breathe for a second. You wrung your hands about anxiously in your lap, willing yourself to relax.
“Our flight leaves at 6pm on Friday, so we’ll have to go straight from work,” Agatha said, changing the subject. “You can hide your luggage in my office, and we’ll have my driver pick us up so that saves that hassle…”
She trailed off suddenly, and despite your insistence on not getting too caught up in the intricacies of your boss’ behaviour, you peaked over at her. Just like earlier in the immigration office, she was chewing at her lip, this time with a faraway expression. You frowned, sensing she was nervous about something. It set you slightly on edge to see her this way. Agatha was never nervous. Big meetings didn’t faze her, important deadlines never stressed her out and public speaking was like a second nature to her. Where once this bravery had been sickeningly envious, its disappearance now gave you concern.
Agatha was a mystery to you, one you were reluctant to address, yet desperate to understand.
---
Agatha flopped down onto her desk chair with a huff, allowing her head to fall backwards and feeling her neck crack with the movement. The tension that racked her body seemed to grudgingly resist lessening, and she considered whether she ought to just take the remainder of the day off. But that would be suspicious...
She loathed the idea that her every decision was being monitored but dreaded to imagine the other option: moving back home, back in her mother’s grasp. She hadn’t seen the woman in over ten years, and to think now that she would spend the weekend in her company… Agatha groaned, letting her face crash forward into her hands. She squeezed her eyes shut, and in the darkness saw only her mother, pictured how she would be reacting to the news that Agatha would be joining them for part of the trip.
As per usual, her attempt to reach out to her mother had been met by silence. She was starting to suspect her number was blocked, and thus Agatha had instead chosen to inform Lilia Calderu about this impromptu reunion. The woman was cooky, but kind. She had always been Agatha’s one ally within the family, and since her emancipation, was the only one who had bothered to stay in contact.
As if abruptly summoned from her thoughts, Agatha’s phone buzzed across the table, likely holding more information from Lilia. With a sigh, she reached forward to raise the lit screen into her eye line, yet was surprised to be met by another’s name
[4:10pm] Jennifer Kale: you’re coming to Salem????
Agatha chuckled, though not out of humour. Jen was one of the many people her mother seemed to just acquire. It was a terrible feature of Evanore Harkness: that the crazy gravitated towards her, became involved in their family and never left.
The word ‘family’ didn’t quite sit right with Agatha. It was more like a cult.
[4:11pm] Agatha Harkness: I am. I take it you’re still hanging about?
[4:12pm] Jennifer Kale: well when you abandoned ship someone had to replace you.
Agatha scoffed, ignoring the wave of irritation at Jen’s phrasing. She was irreplaceable. Though the idea that her own mother should even try to swap one daughter out for another didn’t exactly come as a surprise. Nonetheless, it still hurt. Agatha crossed her arms over her chest, deciding to pursue the conversation no further.
[4:15pm] Jennifer Kale: Lilia mentioned you were bringing a plus-one. who is she?
At this, Agatha’s loathing softened ever so slightly. Jen was one of the few that had supported her coming out, had even attempted to defend her from Evanora’s outrage. She picked the phone back up, feeling a smile grace her lips as she started to type.
[4:15pm] Agatha Harkness: someone I’ve been seeing for a while. She’s nice. You’ll like her.
The message was a simple lie, but it did the job.
Still, reading it back Agatha found she had a lot more to say about you…
NEXT PART
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JJ fic. I'm thinking sweet smut. Like almost goofy because that's just who he is, rarely super serious. And he and reader just know each other so well that things can be goofy, even during sex and neither of them care. Unprotected (if you're good with that). Then maybe reader finds out she's pregnant. Worried to tell JJ. But he's so thrilled.
bf!jj
a/n: I loveeed this ask
warnings: smut, pregnancy, unprotected s3x (wrap it pookies), brain rot.
“Have you got a condom?” As soon as the words leave your mouth the blonde, that’s on top of you, head pops up. He looks at you slightly confused. His hands stoping the rubbing against your lacy panties.
“I thought you were bringing them?” JJ says, his blue eyes looking into yours as he suddenly remembers.
He was supposed to bring them.
“Fuck sake.” He sighs as he runs his head, this isn’t the first time he’s had to run out and buy them during this intimate moments. He just a forgetful guy.
“Fuck it.” You say, not even thinking about it twice. You need this. He’s been touching you for too long. “You’ve been edging me f-“
“Edging.” He cuts off with a little snort and a smile. He’s so unserious it’s insane.
“Stop.”
“Sorry.”
You look up at him and lean up, pressing your soft lips against his. Slowly his slips his tongue into your mouth as his hands continue to touch, rub and caress you. He’s being soft today.
But the way he’s fiddling with the zipper of his jeans is not soft nor slow. Of course it gets stuck, and he’s just there trying to rip it open. Trying to unjam it with some huffs and puffs.
While he’s doing that you’re pulling down your panties, the fold air against your core making you flinch a bit. Before you lay back down and he lays back on top of you.
“Are you sure?” He asks as he looks at you. This isn’t the first time you’ve done it without protection but every time he checks. Make sure you’re certain.
“Yes.” You say with a nod of your head. You just can’t wait any longer.
Slowly JJ enters your cunt, your tight walls sucking him in as you let at a moan. JJ jokes about his size to everyone. Saying how big he is. But they weren’t jokes.
“Fuck mama. So tight.” He says before placing a kiss on your neck. His thrusts picking up. His hand coming to your neck, not to choke you. But to make it easier to pick up his speed. “Such a good girl.”
Your walls clench around him as your eyes screw shut. Whimpers filling the space of your bedroom.
“Please don’t stop.” You breathe out as you instinctively grab onto the duvet, knuckles turning white as you look at him. His stupid face smirking down at you before reattaching to your neck.
His face practically lives there now. Hes always kissing and sucking on your neck.
JJ’s free hand slips between your legs and starts rubbing. Rubbing that sensitive bud of yours. His cock twitching inside your pussy.
It doesn’t take long for both you and JJ to cum. His thrust slowing down as he looks at you.
Both of you panting before the blonde just has to open his stupid mouth.
“That was so skibidi.”
“Oh my god.”
You can’t believe it.
‘This can’t be real.’ You think to yourself as you look at those two lines. The two lines that can either be a blessing or a curse.
You don’t know how long you’ve been sat on the bath mat of your bathroom. I mean you can’t have a baby. Can you? You’re only eighteen living at your parents house dating a guy who only recently learnt the difference between there, their and they’re.
You can’t be parents.
You just can’t.
“Baby I’m here to hang.” The sound interrupts your thoughts. the very guy you were just thinking about. Knocking a tune on your bathroom door.
You sniff and dry your eyes, trying to get rid of any sign that you were crying.
But JJ heard everything.
“Hey, yn? You okay?” His concern is evident in his tone. He cares about you more than you’d ever know.
The bathroom door slowly opens and your eyes meet the blondes. Slowly making his way to you, crouching down and placing his hands on your knees. You’re silent. You can’t speak. Don’t know what to say if you were to open your mouth.
So you just hold the test.
JJ’s eyes follow your gaze to the test. His breath catching in the back of his throat.
You want to know how he feels, is he angry? Upset? Disappointed?
Actually he’s none of them.
“I’m going to be a dad?” He says excitedly. Immediately you look at him. Shocked by this response. He’s happy?
“Yeah.” You say quietly.
“I’m going to be a dad!” He says louder and takes off his hat before standing up. Pacing the bathroom and smiling. Yapping about all the things he’s going to do. How excited he is to have a child.
You should’ve never been worried. You’re going to be parents.
#jj maybank x you#jj obx imagine#jj maybank x reader#jj outer banks#outer banks jj#jj x reader#jj scenarios#jj maybank#jj obx#jj#jj mayback imagine#jj mayback x reader#obx fanfiction#obx#outer banks#jj smut#jj maybank scenarios#jj maybank smut
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idk if (or when) you're going to get this ask, but... god. i just want to say i love how you interpret the bishops. kallamar especially. in "the unpayable debt that i owe" i feel like the scene right before kallamar breaks down, when he's looking into the mirror... it so accurately captures the sort of thoughts i've had before breaking down some times and it's just so genuinely comforting in a weird way to see it happen to a character that i love so much. i've struggled with those sort of half-genuine half-mocking thoughts and just. man. i don't know what to say except i absolutely love that comic and it's ruined my brain a little bit in the best way possible
I've reworded this a million times and I guess what I wanna say is asks like this mean the world to me; I actually tend to tone down my cotl angst comics from the kind of stuff I put in my old OC zines. I was kinda worried it'd lose the intended effect, but I suppose not! I feel you when you say it's comforting in a weird way to see stuff you struggle with reflected in a character you love- honestly comics are how I've processed trauma or grief for as long as I've been able to hold a pencil so all of it comes from a place of love rather than just wanting to see these characters suffer needlessly. I appreciate you taking the time to let me know what you thought of the comic, I'm sorry you know those feelings all too well so I'm just glad I can provide something vaguely cathartic to see yourself in :')
I swore to myself I'd stop drawing kall for a little bit cause I've been looking at him too long, but for this ask I have procured this image of him chilling with a blanket and a hot beverage after the events of that comic! He is unbothered, moisturized, in his lane and flourishing despite everything:
#cult of the lamb#kallamar#don't mind the girlboss cup#we have that exact cup at my house for some unholy reason
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Beomgyu at 9:37PM (21:37)
[original ask] no warnings other that slightly angsty if u squint (gyu cries briefly but its happy tears) <3 gender neutral reader & a slice of life with boyfie! gyu
Beomgyu is currently lying on his stomach in his bed, his face shoved into the pillows as he whines into them, "'S not fair..." His voice is muffled, catching your attention, and you can't help but laugh on the other side of the phone when your eyes finally focus on the screen.
"I know, bubs. But you have an early schedule tomorrow, you need to rest." You pick up your phone and take carry it with you into the bathroom, setting it up against the wall so that you're in the camera's view. Beomgyu still doesn't look up despite the ruffling sounds and only groans louder into this pillows.
"I jus' wanna see you... It's been so long..." He whispers it into the plush of his pillow, but the silence in your apartment allows you to hear it. It pulls at your heartstrings and you find your mood souring slightly, knowing how little time the two of you have gotten together recently. And the one day he managed to get home early, is the one day you already had plans with your friends to hang out. And the plan was to be out all night since you were off the next day...
You sigh quietly and go back to fixing your hair in the mirror, perfecting it to your liking before double checking your outfit. "I'm sorry, baby. You know I would drop everything for you if we hadn't been planning this for weeks."
You don't know how you convinced yourself to step foot into the restaurant after saying goodbye to Beomgyu. He had whined himself to sleep after what you said, but only after surprisingly encouraging you to go out with your friends. As much as he missed you, he wasn't going to keep you from your friends if it's what you wanted.
It took far too long for you to get over the heartache of seeing his face in your head during dinner. The only thing that comforted you out of your feels was the small change of plans you decided as you chowed down. Your friends would live with you leaving a few hours early...
The front door clicks open at an ungodly hour, still somehow a lot earlier than you had planned to be out with your friends. Nonetheless, you slide out of your shoes and leave them by the front door before making sure to lock up all the way.
As you make your way through the silent apartment, you smile to yourself at the familiar scent and scenery that you haven't seen in god knows how long. And soon enough, you're sneaking into a familiar room and rummaging through one of the dresser drawers, tugging your clothes off before sliding a slightly larger t-shirt over your head.
"Beomie~" You sing-song softly as you slide under the sheets, the warmth offering comfort compared to the biting cold that you just experienced outside.
In the back of his sleep-ridden mind, he genuinely thinks its all a dream; your warm hands running up and down his arms, your quiet, soft voice that's followed by a slight gust of wind on his face. He's smiling slightly at the thought of you, making you smile and poke him around a few more times. You're eventually met with his beautiful eyes, lidded with sleep and blinking repeatedly in an attempt to see properly.
"Hi Beomie~ Sorry to wake you, but I thought you'd like to know I was here." It takes him a moment to process what's happening, you having to assist by cupping his face and soothing his cheek with your thumb, but it's painfully obvious the second it clicks.
"My baby..." His voice cracks slightly and your eyes adjust to the darkness just in time to see his lips downturn and his eyes start to water.
"Oh honey-" You laugh and pull him closer, wrapping your arms around his neck. He instantly melts into you, sliding his arms around you as he shoves his face into your neck. He lets out quiet sniffles as he nuzzles farther into your neck.
Eventually those sniffles turn into small huffs as he tries to calm his breathing on his own. He only find success once your nails trail up and down his back, scratching him lightly in a way he finds soothing enough to lull him back to sleep. But he missed you, dearly, and nothing is gonna get in the way of him at least talking to you for a few minutes.
"What time is it?"
"I dunno... Like 2AM?" You can feel him make a stank face so you laugh and rub his back, assuring him that you sent him texts updating him throughout the night even though you knew he was asleep. He grumbles something against your neck in response but both of you are too tired to bother.
"Gyu?" He pushes his lips into your jaw and and pulls away slightly, just enough so that your noses touch and your eyes meet, his own slightly puffy. "I didn't tell you yet but I spoke to my manager and found out I have a few vacation days that I have to take before the end of next month or else I'll lose them, so I took all of next week off since your schedule is more clear then." He doesn't need to say anything, the way he squeezes you as a wide smile breaks out onto his face says it all.
"You're so perfect... I love you so much, baby. Stay tomorrow? I'll leave early and we can go to lunch... Mmmh- maybe even dinner...?" Sleepiness riddles his sentence and you can see his eyes drooping again, so you opt out of fighting it and just let things be, just this once <3
"Good night Gyu. I love you~"
Taglist (red=can’t be tagged):
@valkyriexo @lunearta @jabmastersupriseee @rylea08
@yaorzu-blog @amararosesblog @jiminssluttyminx @clemissleepy
@miss-daisy04 @kittyxnoa @dwaekkiiracha @bubblerizz
@mariteez @fun-fanfics @honeyybbuubblleess @kittycatkrissa
@nicora04 @chuuyaobsessed @moonlightndaydreams
#sian’s writing#txt fluff#txt x reader#txt x reader fluff#beomgyu x reader fluff#beomgyu soft thoughts#txt soft thoughts#beomgyu x reader#beomgyu fluff
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Sorry for the very late reply: I stayed off Tumblr for like, a month or so. But this is a long reblog with a lot of interesting points I wanna respond to.
Honestly, the most common form of JCT doesn't stem from A Chinese Odyssey. It's inspired by the webnovel that's kinda a fanfiction to said movie, Biography of Wukong.
The predecessor to BMW, Asura Online, takes a lot more inspiration from the webnovel than its spiritual successor, and even tho BMW isn't trying to be a direct continuation of AO, I would argue that some of its themes and worldbuilding still slipped into BMW.
You mentioned not seeing JCT in the game according to my definition, and I feel like it's a matter of exposure. For someone who has Chinese as their first language, they are gonna to be 1) exposed to a shit ton of JTTW media, and 2) see a lot of interpretation about the novel proliferate that an English audience is completely unaware of.
BMW is not the most extreme or common form of JCT, but the general ideas are still recognizable. Like, just because it doesn't make all the gods evil, or all the yaoguais innocent victims, doesn't change the fact that the main narrative is still one of Oppressive, Conspiring Pantheon vs. Oppressed Yaoguais.
(Example: the lore entries' implication about Lingji and the Yellow Wind storyline is that Lingji is creating the weird stone Buddha heads and the Fuban yaoguai to 1) collect Lingyun, the "soul" equivalent, and 2) artificially create a threat so that he can rescue the Flowing Sands kingdom from it and convert them to Buddhism.)
(Instead, the Yellow Wind Demon became the rescuer and the kingdom started worshipping rats, which was why its people were all turned into rats.)
(Or, the most obvious one: the Western Heaven's genocide of the Yakshas in the Bull King family backstory.)
(As for Erlang: why do you think you find him inside a painting, which, according to the lore entries, is implied to be the result of him asking Maitreya for refuge from the Celestial Realm?)
And it's made even more jarring by the fact that the game wants to create a facsimile of the original novel through quoting its poetry and imitating the vernacular novel dialogue style, and make allusions to SWK's role as the Mind Monkey, without realizing how it conflicts with the Biography of Wukong-style interpretation.
You mention the lore entries, and that's actually my favorite part! Both the Ming-print style illustrations, and their simulation of the Zhiguai short story style.
But, again, there is a dissonance. The funny and strange Zhiguai-style entries are noticeably different in tone compared to the "main storyline" entries about major characters and backgrounds, which is written like modern short stories instead of a classical Chinese text translated into Mandarin.
And my problem is not that the adaptation is different, that it may want to change the allegory or reinterpret the themes for a modern audience.
It's the feeling that they want to have it both ways——be faithful to the novel (or at least create a facsimile of faithfulness), yet also stick to the Bio of Wukong style popular reading that proliferates in modern JTTW media for mass appeal.
And to me, the dissonance in the two narratives weakened the thematic coherence. Frankly, if it sticks to one or the other, I wouldn't have been writing these critiques: if it's a proper exploration of the original novel's allegorical themes, I'd be praising and loving it, and if it's JCT thorough and thorough, I'm just going to be like "Yeah, not for me" and leave it at that.
But it's this mixture of things I love and things that frustrate me that drives me to write and get down to the bottom of those conflicting feelings, which has little to do with JTTWR's original posts and his attitude towards adaptations.
Lastly: I'm very much coming from the perspective of a native speaker complaining about Chinese JTTW media and popular interpretations. My own opinions are not mainstream in the Chinese JTTW fandom either——JCT is so popular precisely bc it has mass appeal.
Just a thing to keep in mind.
I'm a Theravada Buddhist. I saw many people interpreting the story and meaning behind Black Myth Wukong, differently. But I hope the devs team didn't intend to insult Buddha Dhamma by recreating this new story and distort the meaning of Buddhahood or Enlightenment itself..
I don't know if they intended to insult Buddhism, but I can say that their presentation of Buddhism in the game is disrespectful.
@ryin-silverfish recently posted a wonderful essay on what's known as the "JTTW Conspiracy Theory," which is a method of interpreting the story by twisting details, making the heavenly hierarchy look evil. The game follows this method. I recommend that you read the essay:
I unknowingly ran into the JTTW Conspiracy Theory a couple of years ago. A Chinese article claimed that the Buddha lies in the novel. This is my rebuttal.
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Title: Nights like this (Kimi Räikkönen x Reader)
Warnings: Kimi catches you dancing, mostly fluff, a little bit of stress, and sweet-sweet Kimi.
I want a man like this. When will God hear me out?! T_T
Word count: around 1500
English is not my main language, so I’m sorry for any mistakes. I'm also sorry for the picture and the blurred wife, but I wanted to set the mood. PLEASEFORGIVEME.
//
“Y/N,” Kimi called out your name. His voice broke the silence three times in the last 30 seconds. But nothing. No answer. Not even a little sound. Nothing. Weird.
However, you didn’t hear a thing. You were at the bottom of your shared house, inside the study with headphones on. Although, you could have chosen not to work thanks to Kimi, for some reason you still didn't want to “live that up”. You wanted to bring something to the table, and you wouldn't have been able to sit on your butt all day anyway. So, you worked. A little too much these days. All week. All month. And let’s add plural to the end of those words.
The last period has been particularly difficult for you. You had to work with a lot of clients as an account manager. And sometimes (well mostly), your bosses were assholes. More than once, Kimi almost went to your workplace to finally put them in their place and burn that place to the fuckin’ ground. But you always shut him down for some stupid reason. Even though, they would deserve it. Because all you've wanted to do lately is quit. You were burnt out, you were tired. But at least you had one thing in your life that was worth everything: Kimi.
You couldn't tell how grateful you were for him. Although everyone called him “The Iceman”, you didn't know that side of him at all. Yes, he was honest, straightforward, sometimes grumpy, but never towards you. With you he was always kind, loving and understanding. He hated everyone but you. And he showed it to you. More than anyone else ever had, he showed you what it truly meant to love: genuinely and unconditionally.
Kimi furrowed his eyebrows as he pushed himself away from the kitchen counter – where he had prepared everything for your dinner together – and headed downstairs. He was worried about you as you didn’t reply to him, and he hadn't heard anything from the study for a while now. He didn't want to admit it to himself, but for some reason it gave him an incredible sense of calmness to hear you rattle around even when you were “quiet”. He adored you, in a way that sometimes it scared him.
Meanwhile, before you knew it, you stood up from your working table with your headphones on and started to dance. The beat was infectious to you, closing your eyes, you imagined the whole place was yours. You moved with confidence, spinning, and striding gracefully, bending low and rising up with a flick of your hair, your hips swaying side to side. Completely lost in the tunes, you danced like no one was watching.
But someone was watching, and it was Kimi. He leaned to the doorframe as the scene unfolded in front of his eyes: your carefree and confident side surfacing. His mouth went dry, and he felt rooted to the spot as he watched you. Even in just sweatpants and a sports bra on, he’d never seen you look more beautiful or more captivating. Or sexier… He swallowed hard and tried to ignore the sensation which started to take over his body.
He didn't want to bother you, but he couldn't take his eyes off you. He heard the tunes from your earphones, as it was blasting at full volume. He recognized that “girly music” (as he called it) from TikTok. He suppressed a smile, secretly loving when you watched those stupid videos next to him and laughed like a fuckin’ maniac. He loved your laugh.
Song after song, you put on a full show for your (not-so) imaginary audience. When you finally spun around and opened your eyes, you saw Kimi leaning against the doorframe, arms crossed over his chest, his eyes glinting with amusement.
Even though you’d been together a long time, a blush crept up your cheeks. You quickly yanked down your headphones, only making the music blare even louder.
“How long have you been standing there?” you asked, but Kimi didn’t answer right away. Your breath caught as his gaze held yours, those icy blue eyes now smoldering with an intensity that sent a shiver down your spine.
"Long enough,” he replied in that typical Kimi tone of his, a hint of a smirk playing at the corners of his mouth. You switched off your Bluetooth headphones, and the music started playing now from your phone speakers. A daring idea came to your mind.
“Dance with me,” you breathed out, extending a hand towards him.
“You know I’m not a good dancer,” he replied, his voice teasing. Lies. You both knew it; he was a much better dancer than he let on. You loved those moments when you’d both get a little tipsy and end up pressed close, unable to keep your hands off each other.
He shook his head a little bit, then sighed. After a few seconds, he pushed away from the doorframe and moved towards you, his gaze meeting yours. Your heart raced as he reached your side, taking your hand and placing his other firmly on the small of your back: his fingers splaying out between your lower back and…
He pulled you close, and you instantly melted into his touch, a soft sigh escaping as you began to sway together to the music. He led you effortlessly… Not a good dancer. Right. What a lie… The way he held you made your skin tingle.
It started right at your lower back, where he touched you. Then, the sensation slowly started to work its way all over your body. From head to toe, like a poison that spreads through your veins. That sweet, hypnotic, deadly toxin that you couldn't get enough of. Because when it came to Kimi, nothing was ever enough. You wanted more. More. To take and possess. And that feeling deep down scared you because no one had ever had that effect on you. It was intoxicating and something you never wanted to let go of. And you won’t because Kimi felt the same way about you.
As you looked up into his eyes, the song Nights Like This began to play, and suddenly, it felt as if the air had been sucked out of the room as the lyrics were written just for this moment.
Hold my hand until we turn to ashes...
Kimi’s gaze softened, his fingers pressing a little more firmly into the small of your back, holding your other hand tenderly with his. The way you looked at each other, the way your breaths mingled, it almost turned your world upside down. No matter how long you've known each other, that feeling never changed.
Love me 'til they put me in my casket...
Your heart skipped, feeling a rush of something deep and unspoken passing between the two of you.
I got all these feelings that I'm maskin’...
You wondered if he felt it, too: that quiet ache, the vulnerability the words held.
You let out a soft breath, barely above a whisper as you were singing the song, “Can I lay it on you? That’s what I’m askin”’.
And without saying a word, Kimi pulled you even closer, as if his answer was already there, steady and clear in his embrace.
You stayed like that with the song all the way through, completely intertwined with each other and swaying softly. When the song ended and another began, you pulled back just enough to look up into his eyes.
“Kimi,” you whispered.
“Kultsi?” he replied, a slight smirk tugging at his lips –barely there, but somehow, always present just for you.
“I love you so much… I hope you know that” you murmured, leaning deeper into his touch, feeling the last of your stress melt away. With him, you felt completely at peace, blissfully content.
“I love you more,” he replied, and leaned down to kiss you with the same impulse. He was more a man of action than talk anyway. He grabbed the back of your neck as he pulled you closer and deepened the kiss. His mouth sweetly explored yours, brushing his tongue against yours.
You pulled him even closer, wrapping your arms around his neck and kissing him back as if your life depended on it. Dinner was waiting in the next room, getting colder by the second, but he didn’t care; right now, you were all he wanted. You were the meal he craved. Even starved.
With a swift, effortless movement, he slid his hands under your thighs and lifted you, and you instinctively wrapped your legs around his waist, laughing as you pulled him closer.
He looked at you, his eyes alight with something deeper. That laugh...
“I love you,” he murmured again, his voice almost a growl, and carried you over to the worktable. He nearly swept your things to the floor, but you stopped him, quickly moving your laptop and phone aside. After all, you’d need those later…
You let out a soft chuckle as you did so and when you turned back, you could see his eyes darken with something. It made the air stuck in your lungs.
“And I’m going to show you just how much,” he whispered hoarsely and began to slowly undress you…
#Kimi Räikkönen x Reader#Kimi Raikkonen x Reader#kimi raikkonen#kimi raikkonen fanfiction#kimi raikkonen x you#f1 fanfic#f1 one shot#f1 fic#f1 imagine#kimi raikkonen imagine
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stay outta trouble, yeah?
tangerine x southern!reader, 3.7k words summary: he's taken by their southern accent, much like they're taken by his british one. color him intrigued, because why not? he'll be getting them to safety as soon as he can get away from the fight--or rather, telling them to get to safety. a/n: before you read the rest... there are a few lines i took from the movie to keep part of the plot alive. and then it goes haywire... anyway. listen i was just thinking about how incredible it would be to talk to tangerine and not actually hide my personal accent. here you go, pookies. (i'm from west virginia if that helps you). i've also never been farther than türkiye, so my knowledge of what it's like to travel to japan is very limited. pardon my inaccuracies even though i only talk about it for like... .2 seconds, at most. tw: major canon divergence, talks of blood, wounds, cursing, etc.
It'd been a long few days in Tokyo. Traveling for your own enjoyment was always an incredible thing, but good lord, was it exhausting.
The flight, which was non-stop from the Washington Dulles Airport, thank goodness, was nearly sixteen hours. No connecting flights, no dealing with confusing and unfamiliar airports. But just the flight itself was enough to send your sleeping pattern to all kinds of craziness. Don't even mention the fact that you had to drive to the airport, which took several hours just to get there...
Wasn't the first time, and certainly wouldn't be the last.
Travel was a luxury so many never had the opportunity to experience. When you had the chance to go to Japan, you took it. It was practically a dream vacation, despite how exhausting it truly was.
You'd come back to Tokyo after a few days in Nagoya, the second to last stop on this bullet train, maybe a quick day trip to Kyoto after, but time was of the essence. You may not have planned every little detail for this trip of a lifetime, but you had a good idea as to what you were going to do.
The bullet train would be at your stop in nearly two hours. That was plenty of time to take a nap and probably figure out what you'll do in Nagoya after finding your planned accommodations.
You found a seat in the "quiet" car, almost giddy to know that there was a car specifically for that. Being from the southern United States, the only actual train you could recall was the Amtrak Trains, but even then, you didn't know as much as you could have about them.
You kept your backpack close to you, trying to find your earbuds so you could have them before you actually sit down.
As you walked, absentmindedly, of course, you bump into a rather tall and, might I add, breathtaking man with one of those 80s' mustaches—like the guy from that one season of American Horror Story. It rather suited him, but that's not what you were thinking as the words quickly spilled from your mouth:
"I'm so sorry," you said, southern drawl instantaneous. "Wasn't watching where I was goin'."
The man looked down at you, blue eyes curiously catching yours. He smiled, and you could feel your heart melt within you. Or maybe your lungs. It seemed hard to breathe for a moment.
"No worries, love," he said, a very British accent joining his words. He scrunched his nose a bit and moved out of your way, while the man behind him muttered something under his breath. "No harm done."
You return his smile, although hesitantly. God, was he gorgeous. But that was beside the point. You moved around him, knowing you probably looked like a mess—you had only spent two nights in Tokyo, and they weren't very restful. Skincare could only do so much to make you look awake and not like you've risen from the dead just hours prior.
You choose a seat nearby where the British man and his two friends were sitting, putting your backpack on the table just in front of you. You grabbed your phone from your pocket, making sure you still had your charger in the pack, before you set up your earbuds and your music.
Your eyes flickered over to the British man, not saying anything as you opened your preferred playlist. He briefly glanced back at you and sent a rather cheeky smile before he looked back to the man in front of him.
"Fuckin' hell, mate," Lemon said as he looked at his brother. The man had made him move just so he could have an eye on the American who bumped into him. "Go and talk to ‘em, yeah? Leave me out of it."
Tangerine rolled his eyes. "Fuck off," he said. "We gotta job, yeah? Speakin' of." He stopped and looked towards the White Death's son, blinking slowly for a moment. "You gonna tell us much else or are you keepin' us in the dark?"
The Son mumbled something under his breath, tiredly looking out the window. He didn't know why he was here, other than the two brothers saying they were hired by his dad to get him to safety.
Right. Safety. What a joke.
"Right, so," Tangerine began. "Our job is to keep you safe and to recover the briefcase with the ransom money inside. And I plan on completin' my job and keeping..."
Tangerine looked at his brother, narrowing his eyes. "Lemon."
Lemon looked up at him. "Hmm?"
"Where's the briefcase?"
"Oh, I stashed it."
Tangerine stared at him in admonishment for a bit longer than necessary. "The case, Lemon. Go get me the fucking case."
"We got his son. That was our job."
"Our job was to come back with his son and his 10 million." Tangerine groaned softly and looked out of the window, sucking in a breath. "Three words describe our situation right now. Do you know what they are?"
"Sure do," said Lemon. He held up a hand and counted them off as he spoke: "Saved his son."
"Motherfucker," Tangerine blurted. He went on his spiel about the White Death, which seemed to be quite imperative as Lemon hadn't read the email he forwarded to him. Of course he hadn't—when did he ever? Why did he bother?
"He asked for pros who wouldn't fuck up," Tangerine said. "Three words, Lemon. We are..."
"Fucked." They say the words together, and if it had been another time, perhaps just hours prior, it would have been fun. Not this time. No, this time, they knew they were in deep shit.
They needed to get that suitcase and quick.
They returned to the Son only for him to be... well, let's put it frankly, bleeding from his eye-sockets and mouth, and so very dead.
"Well, shit," Tangerine sucked in a breath as he looked at the boy who had called him a liability only moments earlier.
The two trained assassins set to work on making it look like he was merely sleeping, even going as far as giving him Momonga glasses. You never know.
Tangerine looked at Lemon, frowning deeply. "We need t' find that briefcase," he said.
"Right," Lemon returned, staring at the Son for a moment before he looked up at Tangerine, nodding. "Right. Phone's on me. See if that American you ran into saw anything. Never know, yeah?"
Tangerine narrowed his eyes and glanced over his shoulder, seeing the object of his curiosity. "Hm. Go, Lemon. You see the case, deal with whoever has it."
"All right, how do I do that? Talk to him, or, like, talk to him?"
"I don't know, why don't you tell him about the story about how Gordon met Percy and how Percy's now bleeding from his fucking eye sockets!"
Lemon scoffed and left his side, going down the opposite side of the train.
"He means kill him. Of course he does."
Tangerine took one last look to the boy before he made his way to you, just a few seats down. He saw that you were asleep—surely, if you had been awake, you would've said something, right? Right. He's assuming, anyway. He keeps walking, knowing that he's got to find this briefcase and fast or else he and Lemon may not get a chance to even think about which arm they'd rather have cut off.
About twenty minutes into your restless nap, there's a loud noise blaring in your earbuds, and you jolt awake, grabbing onto your phone. You paused it, heart pounding in your chest.
"Damn," you cursed, knowing it was only from the song and nothing more. This song was notorious for loud noises. You take out your earbuds, a soft groan escaping you. Might as well stretch your legs and use the restroom since you're awake. It didn't seem like sleep was going to come easy on this train.
A voice came over the intercom, saying something about stopping momentarily, but you didn't catch the name of the station.
You stood and stretched, looking towards where the British man had been. He's not there, and neither is his one friend, but the other is there, sleeping. He's got the strangest glasses on, but you say nothing of it.
"Bathroom," you mutter under your breath, looking over your shoulder. You see a sign and follow it, taking your phone with you just in case.
You're quick, doing your business and washing your hands all under two minutes. Must be a record—the airplane bathrooms are so much more different than this.
You go to leave and open the door, and once again, you're not paying attention. You nearly bump into the tall, handsome British man, but this time, he is paying attention.
He grabbed you by the shoulders, a soft huff escaping him. "Watch yourself, love," he said, a playful smile on his lips (like he's not currently in one of the most stressful situations he's ever been in). "You're gonna get yourself hurt, now, aren't ya?"
Wide eyed, you looked up at him. "Shit, I'm sorry," you said. "It's—hell, I can't even give you a good excuse, but I didn't mean to."
"Nah, you're alright, love, just watch yourself for me, yeah?"
He let go of your shoulders, and you almost find yourself missing the touch.
"Go back to your seat, yeah? Keep an eye out for anyone weird for me."
You blinked slowly but nodded anyway. "Yeah, sure," you said. "You—"
But before you can continue, he sees something in the corner of his eye—either that or he hears something. You're not really sure. He flashes you a soft smile before he walked past you, clearly on a mission.
You let out a soft sigh and walk back to your seat, sitting down quietly.
As you get there, the British man's friend is back, and with another man—you don't catch their conversation, but whatever it is is rather heated. You simply put your earbuds back in and let your head fall back, unable to stop your eyes from fluttering shut. There's a few noises, but the sleep is far too good to come out of. At least, for now it is.
At some point, you feel someone shaking you awake. You quickly open your eyes, seeing the British man sitting across from you. He's got a few cuts on his face—not something he had before. You sat up and check your phone, eyebrows furrowed.
"What are you—"
You'd only been asleep for another twenty minutes.
"You're cute, love," he said, grabbing your phone from you.
"Hey—"
He held up a finger to you and quickly typed in a text message to his own phone. When he heard the buzz, he handed your phone back to you.
"Where's your stop, hm?"
"Nagoya," you answered. "Why?"
"Get off sooner, yeah?"
"What?"
He gave you a cheeky smile. "Get off sooner, love," he said. "Conductor must've missed you cuz you were sleepin', but he was sayin' that everyone needs to get off before Nagoya. Somethin' about the train needed worked on."
You blinked slowly. Were you still sleeping? You felt like you were. "Why the hell would they do that for? That don't even make sense—"
"Love, do it," he said, staring you down with those pretty blue eyes. "Get off on the next stop, yeah? I'll even give you the money for another ticket or somethin' if you need it."
You shook your head. "I can get another ticket, I just—"
There was something about the man that screamed danger, but no where did it scream liar. At least if he was a liar, maybe it was for good reason. Your gut feeling had been pretty good in the past, warning you against several things that could've gone terribly. Perhaps this was the Universe screaming at you to listen to it.
"Okay. I got the money. I'll just... I'll get off at the next stop."
He smiled softly at you. "Good. I'll be seein' you then, yeah? Keep yourself outta trouble."
He stood up, giving you a soft wink, before he left you in the quiet car.
You didn't see him again for the rest of the train ride, but you did listen to him. You got off at the next train stop and bought a new ticket, wondering if the cuts on his face had anything to do with his request.
It was a pretty nice warning, as crazy as that shit was.
Waiting for the next train, which would be there only momentarily, you pull out your phone. The only thing he had typed to his number was simple: Tangerine.
Was that codename for something? The fuck did fruit have to do with anything?
Nagoya, Japan.
A beautiful city with equally beautiful architecture (you'd be sure to visit the castle and the shrine after you finished exploring the city on your own terms).
You hadn't gotten a text from the handsome British man, but it didn't really bother you much. You didn't know him—just nearly ran into him a handful of times before he told you to get off the train.
Two days after the train ride to Nagoya, you find yourself on the streets, following your phone's GPS as best as you could to get to the castle. You should have just waved down a taxi cab, but you also wanted to experience the walk. That, in itself, was just as important as the journey over. Besides, your phone said only five minutes, but it seemed like it was re-routing and doing the exact opposite of being an accurate GPS.
You curse under your breath and go to type in another address in an attempt to see if it was just the castle address that was making your GPS wonky when you heard a familiar voice—you felt a familiar hand grab onto your shoulder.
"Be careful, love," the British man said, keeping you in your spot. You looked up—you're not even about to walk into anything, this time. You looked back at him, eyebrows furrowed.
"Oh, hell," you blurted, wide eyed. "What the hell happened to you? Are you—" You pause, mouth gaped open as you look on in surprise. His friend, and that one long haired blonde guy, stand nearby. The one leaned up against the wall of a supermarket, while the other runs a hand through his blonde locks.
You looked up at him, lips parted. "Is that why you told me to get off the train?"
He gave you a pained smile. "Smart, love," he said.
There's a few people that pass by, mumbling about the sight of the rather bloodied and injured men.
"Shit," you said. "You—did you just come to Nagoya in hopes I'd still be here? What if I had been in Kyoto?"
"Guess some luck's on my side, then," he said.
"My—hell, come on, I've got a hotel room," you said. "You lot look like you've been to hell and back."
"Somethin' like that," the British man said.
"Shit," you mumbled once more, putting your hotel name back into your GPS. You had just come from there, but just in case, you didn't want to mess anything up. Especially not now. "Shit, dude, I don't even know your name—"
"Tangerine," he interrupted.
You blinked slowly as you began to walk. His friends follow behind.
"Like the fruit?" you question.
His friend snorted from behind the two of you. "Yeah, love, like the fruit."
You shrugged. "Codename?"
"Smart," Tangerine repeated, giving you a cheeky smile.
For someone who looked like he was in an immense amount of pain, he was sure cheerful.
You led them up to your hotel room, where the blonde immediately goes to the bathroom, running water in the sink and using it and a towel to try and clean some of the blood from his face.
Tangerine and the other, whom you now know as Lemon, sit on separate sides of the room—Lemon sits at the table and groans at the action, a hand on his side, while Tangerine sits on the edge of the bed.
There goes your plans to see the Nagoya Castle, but hell, this didn't seem like it would be anything you'd wanna miss out on. How often do you get three men in your hotel room like this?
Ah, fuck, scratch that—how often do you get a hot British man looking at you like that regardless of how beat up he currently looked?
You bit your lip and sit your phone on the dresser. "I, uh, my friend gave me a little kit of medicine and things before I left," you said, going to your open suitcase and pulling out a black bag. "Has like, bandaids and ibuprofen. Tums, maybe. I didn't even look to be honest."
You hand the bag to him.
Tangerine snorted softly, taking the bag from you and opening it up. You watch, seeing the scabs on his knuckles.
"Damn, what the hell happened to y'all?"
Tangerine glanced up at you, a small smile quirking on his lips. "All in due time," he said. "Don't think it's anything I wanna drag you into just yet."
You pursed your lips.
"Fuck," Tangerine mumbled. "This whole thing has been fuckin' bullocks," he said as he pulled out a couple of things from the kit.
"You can say that again," Lemon said, scoffing softly.
Tangerine tossed him a bottle of pain killers before he, himself, picked up a small bottle of antiseptic. "Be a doll and grab me a washcloth, yeah?"
You do as you're asked, moving past the blonde in the bathroom. He looked a bit worse for wear, but he seemed like he was doing far better than the other two.
You brought back the washcloth for Tangerine. "Can I help?"
"Nah, love, I'll be fine. Not the first time."
You grimaced. "Sounds painful."
"C'est la vie," Lemon said from where he sat, taking the unopened complementary water from the table and using it to take the pain killers. "You're a life saver, love."
"Hmm," you hummed, frowning softly as you looked at Tangerine.
He glanced up at you as he cleaned his knuckles. He had plenty of other places to clean, of course, but the idea of moving from his spot on the bed sounded like hell. His abdomen was screaming at him for just breathing.
"I never got your name," Tangerine softly said.
"Yeah," Lemon interjected. "Been callin' you his little American this whole time. Don't let him lie to you."
Tangerine blanched, glaring over at Lemon, before he looked up at you. "Maybe," he said. "Don't listen to him. He's a little shit-stirrer."
You smiled a bit. He's endearing if not... unconventional in his methods. Whatever that meant. You'd learn soon enough, it seemed.
You gave him your name.
He repeated it, and it was almost like heaven pouring from his lips as he spoke.
God, you'd have a hell of a time trying to explain this back home.
Tangerine snorted softly and finished cleaning up his knuckles—just on the one hand, though. He still had so much to get through.
"Must've made quite an impression if you come to Nagoya just to find me," you blurted, taking the bottle of antiseptic and the cloth from him. He didn't protest. He simply watched as you wet the other side of the cloth and took his hand in your own to clean his knuckles.
"Yeah, well, what can I say? The accent got me."
You blinked slowly, eyes flickering to his. "The accent?"
"Oh, yeah, love," he said. "Ladybug in there is an American, but you? It's like a whole other breed of American. I don't know if I can get enough of it."
Lemon scoffed and tossed the bottle of painkillers to his brother. "Stop flirting and let them clean your hand."
Tangerine rolled his eyes, watching your hands as they moved against his wounds.
"Sorry," you mumbled.
"Sorry? For what?"
"For not having anything to really help you," you said. "I'm sure it woulda helped if I had a first aid kit or somethin'."
He raised an eyebrow. "Think you would've been insane for havin' a first aid kit when you're traveling all alone," he said. "Who woulda thought you'd run into little ol' me?"
"Little ol' you, hm?"
Tangerine's soft smile is unmistakable, but you make no mention of it. You let go of his hand and he examined it, letting out a soft hum. You did well enough, he supposed.
Tangerine let out a soft groan as a pain rippled through his abdomen. He laid back on the bed without another word, a hand resting on his body. This would be a hell of a pain to heal, but he was sure it would happen soon enough.
"Sorry for barging in on you like that, love," Lemon spoke up. He drew your attention away from Tangerine. "Tangerine over there kept quippin' on and on 'bout how he just had to see you again. Thought he was a broken record or some shit with how often he said it."
The handsome man in front of you didn't even object this time. He just went with it.
"Right, yeah, and what were you sayin'? Hope they have a nice hotel room that fits all us, yeah?"
"Absolutely not," he scoffed. "Don't be a prick."
Tangerine rolled his eyes. "Lemon—"
"—anyway," Lemon interjected. "We'll be out of your hair as soon as we possibly can. Don't want to outstay our welcome, and I'm sure you've got plans, hm?"
"Well, yeah, but—"
"—we won't stay long, promise."
"No, I—I mean I do have plans, but you can stay as long as you need to."
Tangerine snorted softly and glanced at you from where he laid on his bed. "You're rather trusting, aren't you?"
You blinked slowly. "Well—"
"—be careful, love," he said, a playful glint in his eyes. "You should really watch yourself, before you get yourself into trouble."
You parted your lips, and the words escaped you before you even thought to stop them: "Think I'm a bit too late for all that."
#tangerine#tangerine x reader#tangerine bullet train#gn!reader#reader insert#x reader#fanfic#aaron taylor johnson#aarontaylorjohnson#tangerine bullet train x reader#bullet train#bullet train 2022#bullet train tangerine#bullet train movie#southern!reader
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Hero, Villain God 15
(Prev) (Next) (First)
*Scar's pov*
Cub has called you... He said it was something really important so you did your best to make it as fast as you could...... He hasn't really been very happy with you after the Mother Spore incident so you didn't expect him to be the one to ask to see you... You are a bit nervous...
Wait! What if he's quitting?!? You could never manage to do your work without his help! You'll have to beg! You will do it if that is what it takes.
You sigh ...Here goes nothing.
"Mayor Ren and Martyn have been taken hostage"
What? What does he mean they were taken hostage? Doesn't he have bodyguards to protect him??
"How? When? Where is he?"
"Oh he's still in his office"
Come again? What is Cub on about then?
"But you said he was-"
"Yes, it seems it is the office that's holding him hostage"
..."What?"
"Specifically, the mechanical door and windows have all been locked by an unknown attacker. The defense system has been turned into a threat on his life."
"Oh"
"We believe either an hacker or a villain with power over technology might be at fault."
You see, what you don't understand is why you were called for this. It feels suspicious.
"Do you want me to go after this hacker -"
"No. Not now at least. The mayor needs you to get him and his vice out of the building unharmed. The defenses he installed are quite dangerous when made into weapons so be careful"
"Am...am I going to work alone then?"
"Yes. Ocean Queen water manipulation could backfire around so much electronics and the building is too cramped for Sheriff's wings."
You think you understand, you nod at him, he looks at you.
"I'm ready"
"And don't stay out too long"
Cub wasn't kidding, as you dodge a literal laser you wonder just how paranoid the mayor must have been when he set up this defense system... This is a level of security you would think to find in a super secret governent base, not the mayor's office.
You don't have much time to wonder though as another laser almost hits you in the face and w- IS THAT A MACHINE GUN!?!?
You sigh as you take out one of your explosive arrows, you'll have to fight fire with fire if you want to get anywhere... hopefully the mayor won't mind a bit of property damage.
You really don't want a lawsuit right now by the mayor...or exile! Wait could the mayor even exile you if he wanted?
... You should ask Cub later.
*Martyn's pov*
You have been trapped in this office with Ren for what feels like hour now... It might have been, It's not like you can tell with the windows blacked and no clocks in the entire office... Why does Ren have literally 0 clocks in his office!?
Your thoughts are suddenly interrupted by Ren shouting in your ear.
"We are doomed Martyn! Doomed I tell you! I knew they were coming for me and now we are going to die here!"
Who was coming from him? This is news to you.
"I ... I'm sure they must have sent someone to save us Ren. You are still the mayor, pretty important guy if you ask me."
"Who knows how long that will take my dude, we might have to stay here to starve for days! We'll have to result to cannibalism to stay alive!"
Ok what, how have we got to this point.
"Woah there, how about we *don't* do that actually? How does that sound mate?"
"Right, right... I am sorry Martyn."
...You stare at eachother... Without his voice in the background things are weirdly akward... He's always seemed so confident, you have never seen him this worried before...You hold Ren's hand, he seems surprised for a moment.
"It's going to be alright, I'm here with you"
"Yeah... Yeah, you'll protect me!"
Uh... You don't remember saying that but telling him no would just be too cruel.
"Right, you can count on me Ren."
"Of course dude! I trust you more then I would trust myself!"
Ren's face is suddenly so close to yours, right in front of you. You didn't expect it so you scream and fall back.
"Ah??!"
"Oh sorry dude! I didn't mean to jump at you like that... I got excited"
"It's...it's fine Ren"
"Are you sure?"
You are staring into his eyes and he is staring into yours... It wouldn't be too hard to just lean in and-
"Hello people! Hotguy here to save the day! Is everyone ok?"
...Motherfucker.
#trafficblr#traffic smp#hermitblr#hermitcraft#goodtimeswithscar#cubfan135#martyn inthelittlewood#rendog
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Astarion’s first bite: Vampirism in a nutshell
As a person who's spent the better part of their life consuming and analyzing various vampire media, I'd like to stop and appreciate the first time Astarion feeds from Tav. The scene, however brief, is simply delicious.
(I know it's probably already been written a thousand times all over the Internet, but I'm playing the game for the first time, let me have my fun.)
Vampire bite has been portrayed in a million different ways in popular culture. As an avid TTRPG player, I am probably the most used to the idea of Vampire the Masquerade’s ‘Kiss’: there, the act is generally intensely pleasurable for mortals, putting them in a state of daze that some even liken to orgasm, but victims retain hazy memories of it at best. It’s not unheard of for people to get addicted to the feeling and become so-called blood dolls, purposefully seeking out vampires just to experience the high again. Oh, and the bitemarks? No worries! All it takes is for the vampire to lick the wound after they're done feeding and the skin instantly heals.
I love VtM, but I'm glad this is not the case with Astarion.
The game makes a clear statement: being fed on by a vampire isn't a sexy or pleasurable thing. Even if Astarion tries to be civil about it, and Tav gives consent, this is still very much a predatory act, a physical intrusion. It's painful – like a shard of ice into your neck – and leaves the character weakened.
And Tav stays conscious for the entire time, gritting their teeth, trying to look at Astarion and figure out what exactly is happening to their neck. No haze to dull the memories, no painkillers or sedatives, no nothing. Sorry, Tav; you have to go through this acutely aware of every single sensation.
This contrasts profoundly with what the ‘pale elf’ is experiencing. While Tav feels pain and gets a very telling, brand new ugly wound, the vampire pulls away, clearly intoxicated and even incredulous. That was amazing. (...) I feel… happy!
This opposition is further emphasized by the game systems, namely the conditions the two characters receive. Tav becomes Bloodless, suffering a penalty to rolls etc. A classic victim of vampire bite: sluggish, strangely pale, with mysterious punctures on their neck… It's almost a pity we can't choose to decorate Tav’s tent with a garlic wreath.
Astarion, on the other hand, doesn't become, I don't know, Invigorated, or Sated, or Bloated As a Tick. No, the focus is again on him being… Happy. Not empowered (although he clearly is), but simply happy for the first time in gods know how long, as opposed to him being constantly on edge, on the run, and fighting for survival. He experiences a moment of bliss. This is a gift.
Thus the scene presents various facets of the vampire myth in a nutshell. Because what is a vampire? It's an animalistic monster who preys on humanity (cut to the painful wound on the neck and gritted teeth). It's a deceptively civil and charming individual, often tragic and very self aware (cut to Astarion asking for permission, saying how he's only ever fed on vermin or stating he won't forget the kindness). It's a blood junkie (cut to Astarion experiencing the rush of excitement and ‘happiness’). It's a parasite, because even if the feeding is consensual, we can clearly see which side reaps the benefits, and which is left weakened with nothing in exchange.
Oh, the complexity of the vampiric condition.
(The fact that vampiric bite is often a metaphor for sexual act isn't lost here, even if it's not the focus; it becomes more pronounced later, when Astarion reluctantly admits You were my first. Which, depending on the angle, may render the whole thing an even darker shade.)
And let me say again, all of this is packed neatly into a single, pretty brief scene. I love this game already.
PS The screenshots feature Yae, my half-elven goolock/bladelock. Say hello to him!
Thanks for reaching the end of the note! Please bear in mind I'm playing Baldur's Gate 3 for the first time and I haven't played any of the origin stories yet. Feel free to let me know if you think some things can be viewed differently in the context of the full game, but please avoid spoilers while doing so.
#baldur's gate 3#astarion#bg3 astarion#vampires#vampirism#opinion piece#vampire the masquerade#vtm#bg3
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✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧✩₊˚.⋆
"I hope it's okay if I love you forever"
✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧✩₊˚.⋆
Adam x f!reader
cw: cursing, Adam being Adam, kissing, smut.
Summary: Adam asking reader out and getting a bit freaky afterrr
This is the smut version! Fluff version linked here (smut starts after paragraph 7)
a/n: sorry if this version took a bit long to be released! I've been busy with other projects and some requests. Hope you guys enjoy!
✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧✩₊˚.⋆
"Aw Lute, I'm gonna fuck this up so bad!" Adam said as he paced back and fourth in his office. "Sir, it's really not that big of a deal. You're only asking her out-" Lute replied before being cut off "Not that big of a deal?! What if the bitch rejects me!? What if..." Adam panicked. He'd been planning on asking you out for months, he just didn't know how..
At first, he was his usual confident, cocky self but as soon as he looked at you, his mind blanked. Since then, he'd been trying to find the perfect moment just to ask you. "God, Lute...whenever I look at her..." Adam smiles as he speaks about you, "Her pretty face...her smile...even her voice is just..fuck, her hot ass voice is-" Lute cuts him off "I get it sir, you love her." "Y-yeah...I love her...a lot..but how the hell do I show it without saying stupid shit and being a fuckin' dick?"
Lute sighs and rolls her eyes "Just...be yourself but completely different, y'know? Girls like that type of thing." Adam inhales and exhales "Promise? What if I fuck the whole thing up?" He says, only slightly panicked now. "You wont. Well, you most likely will, but she wont reject you." Lute chuckles as she smiles for the first time in a while. She quickly goes back to her serious self and shoos Adam away to talk to you. "Now get outta here already!"
‧͙⁺˚*・༓☾ time skip ☽༓・*˚⁺‧͙
Adam composed himself in the mirror, practicing what he was gonna say to you. "sooo...Y/n heh...you're pretty hot so- AW FUCK HOW IN HELL DO I DO THIS?!" he says to the mirror. He soon after walks out of his appartment and spots you walking through heaven. He rushes down to you.
When you see him, you immediately fix your clothes and hair, making sure to look extra cute for him. He appears behind you a few seconds later, acting 'cool' "Sup, buttercup~" he says, smirking seductively (or atleast what he thinks will be seductive to you), when in reality he's panicking. He makes a 'cool' pose, leaning against the wall.
"So~...you know how much i love that peice of ass and i also love railing that peice of ass...but...that's not why I'm here," Adam explains "look, you're cute and funny and..fuck..it's the first way I've felt like this since..Lilith.." He begins to blush and breath faster. "god...just-" he's cut off my your lips pressing against his. It was a light peck, but of course it still made his face heat up. He cups your cheeks (FACE 💀) and pulls away, smiling.
"So you were gonna ask me out?" you ask while you chuckle. "Y-yeah...I was..I'm taking that kiss as a yes?" he replies as he rubs the back of his neck, anxiously. "Yeah, I'll go out with you, dummy." Adam turns around and fist pumps the air "FUCK YEAH!" he yells, causing a few people to turn around and stare. "So I'll pick you up at 8?" He says as he goes back to his 'cool' pose against the wall. "Eh, right now works too."
‧͙⁺˚*・༓☾ time skip ☽༓・*˚⁺‧͙
You guys had just come home from the date (drunk of course) and stumbled into his appartment. You feel Adam's arms wrap around your waist and rub circles on your hips with his thumbs. "You know how crazy you make me, sugartits~" he whispers in your ear, flicking your earlobe with his tongue.
"A-Adam-" you get cut off by his hands slipping into your pants, playing with the waistband of your underwear. "You fucking tease..." you reply to his dirty moves. "C'mon..want me to make those pretty insides of yours feel real fuckin' good?" he whispers into your ear as he picks you up and plops you down on the bed, crawling over you.
You nod. I mean, with those soothing whispers and playful hands, who could say no? He begins to strip off both his and your clothes, making it agonizingly slow. He kisses and licks up your inner thighs, teasing you until you can't take it. "Are you wet for me yet, babe?" All you could do was nod because of the lack of words that would leave your mouth.
He slowly slips down your soaked underwear to reveal your aching pussy. He slides down his own pants and cups the bulge forming through his boxers. "Look at how hard you make me, baby~" He spreads your legs and sticks his pointer and middle finger inside you. The thumb on his free hand circles your clit as he pumps his fingers in and out of you.
Your moans get louder as his hands pick up the pace inside you. He then slowly slides his hands out, fingers dripping and oozing with your juices. He uses his hands to hold your folds open as he sucks your insides.
After a few minutes of Adam eating you out, he finally lets you feel his hard, raw cock inside of you. "All for you, sugartits~" he says as he thrusts in and out. He holds your hips in place and a knot in your stomach begins to build. "A-Adam I-...I-I'm close- Fuck!" you moan out. "That's it baby~ Just let it out, cum all over me~" he says as he thrusts one more time and-
The knot snaps.
You reach your limit and cum all over Adam's cock. "A-Aghh~!!" You moan out uncontrollably. "Just like that baby, fuck, you're so beautifly perfect.." After your climax, you plop down next to Adam and breath heavily. "God, you're so hot." he says as he wraps his arms around you. "I love you..." you reply.
"Same." he chuckles as he kisses the top of your head.
『~☆Masterlist☆~』
#adam hazbin hotel#adam x reader#adam hazbin x reader#hazbin fanfic#hazbin hotel fanfiction#Hazbin hotel#character x reader#Character x female reader#smut#adam smut#fanfiction#Fanfic#hellaverse#hellaverse fanfiction
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Mom comes to Work Day! (From Assassin to Sales Clerk AU)
(A/N- Plot points from THIS by @rwby-encrusted-blog were used)
Deandra "Deery" Thistle rolled her eyes as she carried another case of Pumpkin Pete's Marshmallow Flake Crunch towards the front display. At the counter, was her co-worker Blake Belladonna, she was sure she knew that name from somewhere, anyway not the point. The point is that while she was busting ass hauling stock out of the back, Blake was making goo-goo eyes at the blond girl that was leaning on the counter.
"She's a looker, but not my type." Deery muttered to herself as she started unboxed the cereal. "She better treat Blake good, though."
So as Deery muttered to herself while stocking the shelves, Blake was giggling as Yang regaled her with the most recent bet that Jaune, Ruby, Yang's sister, Yang had made while playing video games at the Arc Villa. A Bet that the trio ended up dragging Pyrrha in on.
"You should have seen her kitty-kat." Yang snorted. "Her face was so red I though she was going to shoot steam out of her ears!"
"Why was she so embarrassed?" Blake asked, a little annoyed at not getting the full story before the climax. "What happened? What was the bet?"
"Well were were playing Super-Mega-Ultimate-Edition Rumble Huntresses, so Ruby and Jaune started trash talking each other, and everyone on how epic they were." Yang's grin was infectious. "So they decided to have a round-robin tournament. Well you can't have one of those with only two players, and they didn't want to use bots.."
"So Ruby used her puppy-dog-eyes on you, and you caved."
"Not just her! Jaune uses them too, and I swear you not, paired together even the Brother Gods wouldn't be able to say no to them."
"So what was this bet?"
"The loser had to wear the winner's underwear on their head for rest of the night."
"Oh my gods! Did Pyrrha?"
"Yep!" Yang started to laugh, "Jaune won every match, and Pyrrha lost all of hers..."
"You have pics?" Blake asked her ears perked.
"Yep."
"Show...." the ding of a customer entering the store, had Blake instantly return to a more, professional persona. "Welcome to Pumpkin Pete's Nov... MOM!!!!"
"BLAKE!!! MY BABY!!!" howled an older faunus woman, who was the spitting image of the entirely flabbergasted young woman standing behind the counter.
"In coming!" Yang shouted as she back pedaled out of the way that was the black streak of Blake's mom crossing the floor.
"Blake... Blake... Blake..."
"It's okay mom. It's okay." Blake tried to console her overwhelmed mother as she was damn near pulling Blake over the counter with her hug. "It's okay."
After a minute or so Blake's mom, calmed down enough to release her daughter. After taking a couple of calming breaths, she fixed her gaze upon her daughter... and slapped her, hard! The sound of flesh striking flesh making both Yang and Deery jump.
"How DARE you make me think you were dead!" Blake's mom yelled. "Why didn't you call? Why didn't you tell me you were okay?"
"I'm so..."
Yang stepped in right after the second slap, cut off Blake's apology.
"Okay. Let's all take a deep breath, and let it out slowly. That's it. In and out. Nice and slow." Yang kept herself between the mother and daughter. "Alright, now that we've all had a chance to get centered, how about introductions? Blake?"
"Yang," still rubbing the side of her face, "This is my mom. kali Belladonna."
"Hello, Yang." Kali greeted the young blond woman. "I am sorry you had to see that, and I'm sorry I reacted that way Blake... but it's just been so long!"
"I'm sorry, mom. I am..." Blake's ears lay flat against her black hair. "Things just got so twisted... that I just kept putting talking to you off."
"Well it is better late then never. I'm glad your safe, though why are you in those clothes and standing behind the counter?"
"I'm working."
"Working? I thought you were still..." seeing the quick shake of Blake's head and her roll of her eyes towards Yang, Kali knew to shut up.
"What did you think my Kitty-Kat was, Mrs Belladonna?" Yang asked, making Blake blush.
"Travelling Remnant as a..."
"Acrobat!" Blake blurted out the first thing that popped into her head.
"Yes, yes. An acrobat."
"I thought you were a struggling writer?" Yang asked.
"I changed career paths. Acrobatics was too cut throat." Blake stammered out.
"Who would have thought." Yang responded. "The more you know."
"Question." Kali turned to look at Yang. "Why did you call my daughter Kitty-Kat? Is there some... special meaning to it?"
"Well sort of." Yang stammered. "I used to call her that a few years ago, and just fell right back into it when I ran into her here."
"I see." Kali studied Yang and Blake for a few moments. "Are you two... perhaps dating?"
Both young ladies blushed up a storm and mouthed words, unable to either confirm nor deny the accusation levied by Kali.
"They might as well be!" came an annoyed voice from behind the trio. "The way they be shooting looks and smiles at each other, just as bad as that Arc and Nikos couple!"
"Arc and Nikos..." Kali turned towards the voice, and froze. "DEERY?!?"
"Hi Kali." Deery shot Kali a smile before walking around the counter and placing a slightly possessive hand on Blake's shoulder. "Now I am all for reunions. I am. But Blake here has another six hours to go on her shift."
"I'll see you after your shift Blake. Yang pleasure to meet you, and Deery thank you for looking out for my daughter." Kali smiled as she slowly backed from the counter and made to leave the store.
"Well that's my que." Yang quipped. "If I don't see you tonight we'll meet up with Jaune and Pyrrha at the theatre around 8?"
"Sounds good." Blake shot Yang a warm smile, as the blond girl she once was going to kill left the store with a spring in her step. Though Blake's smile faltered when she saw her mom standing just outside of the store on her scroll. "Crap, there goes a quiet life."
"I don't think that call is about you." Deery commented. "And just an FYI. As long as you work here... I've got you back."
#rwby#a mafia au#from assassin to sales clerk au#blake belladonna#rwby deery#yang xiao long#yang x blake#bumbleby#kali belladonna
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After 19 years, they finally let Shadow use a gun again.
Let's. Fucking. GOOOOOOO!!!!!!! WOOHOOO!!!!!
Im gonna be for real with you guys, I'm cautiously optimistic about this movie. Because on one hand, everything to do with Shadow and Adventure 2 looks absolutely spectacular and everything i wanna see out of an adaptation of an IP that I hold near and dear.
But.... when this blue fucker talks... UGH.
"Somebody better call Google Maps."
"Konichi-whaaaaat?"
"Trickshot!"
"Dude... I'm standing right here."
"Okay he took us all at once."
SHUT UP!!!!! GOD JUST SHUT THE FUCK UP!!!!! SONIC DOESN'T TALK LIKE THIS!!!! HE NEVER DID!!! CAN YOU STOPPPP!!!! Sonic is a guy who knows when to take shit seriously but always has a feeling of fun around him. He's like "aww yeah bring it on! Let's go!" He's not making references to fucking god damn google maps or olive garden.
"But it's an adaptation and they are gonna make changes." And I think those changes fucking suck and movie Sonic feels barely anything like game Sonic. Movie Tails is fine, movie Knuckles is okay and it's clear that they mixed in a lot of different elements across his appearances into a single character, movie Eggman is good because it's fucking Jim Carrey, and movie Shadow looks absolutely phenomenonal... but Sonic? No man... nuh uh...
Knuckles is written perfectly decently and I liked the Detective Pikachu joke because it sorta makes sense and fits because they are in Japan and Tails is a fluffy yellow creature. But everything to do with Sonic is just... no. Stop. Enough. God damn.
Im not saying Sonic can't have fun and can't make jokes, I'm just saying that they need to handle it better, because one of my least favourite things in media is when you have something with a lot of emotions and personal stuff that's so intriguing and interesting, and it gets undermined and trampled over by awful jokes.
It's like this movie is being written by two different writing teams, one team that loves Sonic and the Adventure titles, and another team who's just a bunch of Hollywood writers that have been fed a diet of mediocre action comedy movies and Joss Whedon movies.
I really wanna fully love what I'm seeing here, but I can't ignore the blue stain that's bringing it down....
Im also really worried about what they are gonna do with Gerald Robotnik but I have a feeling that Eggman is slowly gonna realise that Gerald is more crazy than he first thought and that there's gonna be a twist in the movie. There HAS to be one and we're gonna see the insane Gerald we know from SA2, right?.... RIGHT?!??!! I HOPE SO!!! OR ELSE IM GONNA GET REALLY MAD!
Sorry if I seem negative, I'm just voicing my opinions and i don't want others to get swept up in the hype and think that this movie is gonna be a masterpiece and have their thoughts muffled. Because this movie won't be a masterpiece, no movie can be.
Im not saying that if you are excited for this movie then you're a dummy, fuck no, IM EXCITED TOO!!! I GREW UP WITH THE BLUE RAT! IM A LONG TIME FAN!! BUT IM ALSO REALLY NERVOUS!!
All I'm hoping for is that I walk out of the theatre and I feel satisfied and happy. I dont wanna feel mixed, I don't wanna feel like my time has been wasted, I wanna feel like this movie is fucking great. And I'm praying with all of my damn heart that it is.
#sonic the hedgehog#sonic movie#sonic movie 3#shadow the hedgehog#shadow the ultimate lifeform#all hail shadow#tails the fox#miles tails prower#knuckles the echidna#dr eggman#maria robotnik#i am all of me#sonic adventure 2#gerald robotnik
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TIMELOOP ― breaking down at daybreak diner 𖤐 dean winchester
【 pairing 】 dean x fem!reader 【 summary 】 Dean is stuck in a time loop, and it doesn’t take long for him to notice someone else is stuck in here, too. He figures if he wants out of the endless Wednesdays, you’ve gotta be the key. He’s just not sure why. As for you, despite the absurdity of timeloops and the trickster god Dean keeps swearing to gank, a few Wednesdays with this man isn’t the worst thing that could happen. 【 cw 】 slow burn, part 1 won’t include anything besides explicit language but as always mdni, 18+ as the series will progress to that 【 wordcount 】 1.4k
Dean was pissed off and hungry, the cherry on top of the shit pie he’s been eating for the past three Wednesdays in a row. He knew it the moment he woke up the second day, but stubbornly tried to just not believe it was actually happening. Today, however, it was clear he really was living the same day over and over again. Better yet, Sam was two towns over at the nearest college researching with some professor for the case they originally came here for. In yesterday's frustrations he discovered not only that his phone didn’t work, but he couldn’t leave this town either. Three hours spent speeding along back roads just to be warped back into town, at the same random, quiet neighborhood street each time.
Wherever that trickster god was, hiding and delighting in Dean’s frustration, would have a world of wrath to deal with once Dean found him.
Sitting in a booth at Daybreak Diner, he watched everyone move in the same patterns as the days before. Old guy knocking over a cup of coffee, the couple in the corner laughing obnoxiously, a cook calling out ‘order up’.
That is until an abnormality rings throughout the diner. The bell chimes, at 8:36am. That was not part of the pattern. His grumpy eyes dart to the entrance, watching carefully as you rush through the diner.
“I’m so sorry I'm late, Bets,” you sigh to another waitress, “I’ve been having the strangest morning.”
For the past three days you have followed the same script, quietly taking orders with a sweet smile. He had certainly noticed you, in fact the only part of this mess he enjoyed was that he got to flirt with you twice and still got the same coy smile each time.
He watches as you frantically tuck loose strands of hair behind your ears, quickly pin your name tag to the little dark blue dress uniform that matched the other waitresses. The way it fit snug against your body did not go unnoticed by Dean.
None of this should be happening, he thought. When your eyes finally lifted, you caught his stare and he quickly diverted, focusing on the plate of half eaten food in front of him. A moment later, you were standing at his table with your little notepad and pen.
“Can I get you anything?” You ask, voice sounding more meek than it did yesterday.
“No,” he starts, clearing his throat, “I, uh, I thought you were working over there today.” He nods towards the opposite side of the diner.
“I do, I mean, Wednesdays I take that side but today I’m over here. I’m always over here on Thursdays.” Your brows knit together, assessing the man, “I don’t remember telling you that yesterday, though.”
So she does remember, he thought to himself and a wave of relief ripples through his body. The feeling quickly turns cold as he realizes that means whoever this poor girl is, she’s caught the eye of the trickster god. Now, Dean’s rage is turning white hot considering whatever perverse scheme she’s falling victim to.
“No, you didn’t.” He answers curtly, “but I think you’ve noticed something’s off about today.”
You pull your bottom lip between your teeth and pray that what you’re about to say doesn’t make you sound insane. You slip into the booth across from Dean, leaning across the table so no one can overhear your conversation.
“I think I am losing my mind,” you start with big scared eyes, “I swear on my life I am reliving Wednesday. I didn’t notice until the radio station started talking about the weather and shit for ‘this beautiful Wednesday, best autumn day we’ve had all season’ which I heard them say—verbatim—yesterday.” you drop your head into your hands.
Dean goes to respond, to assure you that you are not losing your mind, when you cut him off with a loud huff. “I shook that off thinking I must still be asleep or something but then,” your eyes manage to grow wider, and Dean takes note of how you’re able to be both cute and completely wigged out of your mind, “I go outside to see my car with a flat tire that I literally just got fixed yesterday.” You pause long enough for Dean to raise his eyebrows and stare with disbelief, you really are stuck here with him.
“Great,” you groan, “you think I’m losing my mind— hell I think I’m losing it.”
“No, you’re not. Actually the truth is probably worse than having a few screws loose.” He chuckles, quickly clearing his throat and wiping away that smile as your face contorts between bewilderment and horror.
“What is that supposed to mean?” you squeak, suddenly feeling clammy and hot.
“It means,” he strains, “you’re stuck in a time loop. Living the same day over and over, crafty work of a little bitch in the trickster god variety. At least that’s the only monster I know of that has the kinda juice to pull this sorta thing.”
You stare blankly into the green eyes before you, reading his face, waiting for that handsome smile and some weird punch line. But he just returns your blank look, completely unphased by the absolute nonsense he’s just rambled out. He swallows uncomfortably, “You’re still breathing, right?” he tries, worry lacing his strong features.
Slowly, you nod your head. It doesn’t make sense. It sounds like magic, or the work of fiction, but you’re also not quite sure how else to explain what’s happening.
“Sweetheart,” Dean coos, “you’re kinda scaring me here, say something to me. Something, anything.” He’s used to giving the talk to civilians, it’s part of the job after all. But in all his years of navigating this world, nothing comes close to being trapped in a time loop, stuck within a set of coordinates, with a pretty girl who looks as if she’s about to pass out.
“Trick-er god? Monster? And time loop?” Now your head was starting to hurt, working to wrap logic around the situation, “Wait, yesterday you said you were an fbi agent, is this what the government is doing?”
Dean’s heart drops, completely forgetting he had mentioned that when flirting his way to getting your number on a napkin. “Right,” he laughs uncomfortably, “about that, I’m not. I’m a hunter. I hunt things, monsters, that do things like this to people like you.”
A sort of relief hits you, wrangling with the fear of this newfound knowledge. If there is anyone to get stuck in a time loop with, surely someone who takes care of these sorts of things, isn’t the worst scenario.
“Okay,” you nod, “So there are monsters. One of which is doing all of this,” you motion a circle in the air, “and you’re the kinda guy who fixes it. And lies about being a federal agent, for some reason.” You recount with a furrowed brow.
“Uh huh,” he smiles, “so, don’t you worry, I’ll get us out of this.” With that Dean stands from the booth, dropping a few bills on the table.
“Wait, where are you going?” You ask, quickly leaving the booth.
He looks down at you, “To go gank the son of a bitch that’s doing all this. Gotta find him first though.” Dean sighs.
“Well, I’m going with you.” You assure. A smile tugs at his lips, while he wouldn’t mind spending more time watching you stumble your way through understanding his world, he’d never jeopardize the safety of someone with absolutely zero awareness of what kind of danger comes with hunting.
“No way,” he shakes his head, a large hand reaching up to pat your head, “a pretty thing like you has no business around monsters and weapons. Stay alive for one last Wednesday and by tomorrow you’ll be back to your regularly scheduled life.”
“Nuh, uh,” you press, swatting away his hand, “what if the god thing comes here when you leave, huh? Are you really gonna leave me alone and defenseless in this little diner?” Your doe eyes bat up at him, silently pleading that he doesn’t leave you on your own.
He can’t deny you raise a good point. If you’re in his sights, there’s less of a chance the trickster might try to use your life as leverage. Besides, he can always cuff you to the steering wheel if he really needs to. Finally, Dean sighs, “Fine. But you do as I say, no questions asked, got it?”
A bright smile breaks across your face, sending jolts straight into Dean’s chest. Great, as if he hasn’t got enough to worry about with hunting down the god, he’s gotta ignore the incredibly distracting feelings you seem to spark with just a pretty smile.
#dean winchester#dean winchester x fem!reader#dean winchester fanfic#dean winchester fluff#supernatural fanfiction#supernatural
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idk how to make this into one cohesive thing I'm sorry tumblr user mollyrolls ily <3333
please god I need this for sakusa I am on my KNEES, gunslinger, wanted sign, you choose the overall theme just PLEASE go easy on me if it's angst I beg
here in LONESOME TOWN... @jadeoru and @nectardaddy are
✪ tied between a rock and a hard place
tags: sakusa x gn!reader, enemies to lovers, gunslinger, "left for dead", angst
warnings: implied abandonment, language, bodily harm, more i forget
an: too many words syndrome rears its head once more; thought too hard abt this, etc etc etc. sooo... this will be a part three lmfao. uhhh also not proofread or edited so be nice
wc: 881
PART ONE
mlist. ✪ event mlist.
“C’mon.”
“No.”
“We don’t have time for this.”
“I don’t care. I’m not going with you.”
Sakusa pinches his brow, clearly fed up with your antics. You’ve balked by his horse for the past five minutes, unable or unwilling to join him in the saddle to go home.
Call it stubbornness, call it pride, whatever you want. You’d rather be back in the cave than be forced to ride with Kiyoomi for any period of time.
The heel of your boot slides against the gravel as you solidify your stance, arms crossed.
Your final act of resistance seems to be the end of his patience, so he just shrugs.
“Suit yourself.”
He mounts the saddle in one fluid motion, barely giving you a courtesy look back.
“I’ll probably end up at the inn just outside the canyons. If you manage to find your way out and come to your senses, find me there.”
With that, he spurred his horse on and they vanished into the inky darkness. Leaving you just as stranded as you were before.
✪ ✪ ✪
“Stupid… Kiyoomi fucking… god.”
You’ve lost count of how long you’ve been out here. It’s been long enough that the sun has started to rise, alleviating some of the tension you’ve held all night. You felt safer knowing you had your gear, but a knife won’t do much good when a coyote’s already taken your leg off.
It’s been a painful, restless night. And it’s your fault.
But that won’t stop you from blaming him.
As you continue nudging the rock you’ve been kicking, you notice the road starts to change. Rather, the road starts to form in front of you.
This means you’ll lose the tracks Kiyoomi left that you’d followed blindly, but at least you’re close enough to find something to eat. Maybe another stranger that can help you along, rather than be stuck riding with… him… all the way home.
A small building materializes on the horizon, large enough to be an inn of sorts. For the first time in ages, you start hoping to run into him again.
It takes you a bit longer to get there, the building seeming more like a mirage the longer you walk. But you know this is at least the right track to getting home, so you trudge on.
Finally you approach the wooden building, and notice Sakusa’s horse tied up right outside. It’s impossible to miss. The all black coat, the memories lingering around her, the sleek saddle donning her back.
Feeling a bit self conscious, you move towards the horse rather than the door. You’re not ready to eat crow quite yet.
“Hey there.”
Her ears whip around to identify you, but you know her tricks. She used to be yours, after all.
Finding the crevice on her back that she loves the most, you start to pet her as a means of distraction.
“I… hmm. You were rig… I’m so- sorr. Ugh.”
Any attempts to prepare what you’re going to say fall short, feeling gross in your mouth.
You stay with her a bit longer, struggling to think of anything other than an insult directed towards him. After one particularly affectionate sigh from the horse, you momentarily consider stealing her back and leaving him stranded in the end. It would serve him right.
Rapidly deciding that this is the optimal decision, the two of you snap to attention when a floorboard creaks.
Sakusa is standing around the corner, looking caught. It seems like he’d been there longer than he’d let on and is silently swearing his readjustment.
The open plains feel smothering as the two of you stand there once again, awfully reminiscent of past experiences. Last night, of course, and the night he broke your heart in the first place.
✪ ✪ ✪
You had noticed in your far off consciousness some movement to your left. It’s foggy, sleep was still overwhelming you, but you definitely felt the mattress rise as Sakusa left your side.
Normally, you would have let it be. But gut feelings are nasty beasts, and even in your fitful sleep you could tell something was wrong.
A few minutes passed, and he didn’t return. Not in the bathroom then.
You had risen from the bed and followed his traces through the house. You finally came across him outside, untying your horse from her post.
“What are you doing?” You couldn’t help the accusatory tone that leaves you, despite trying to hold it back.
He stills, reigns still gripped tight in his hands.
“I’ve… I’ve got a job outside of town. I shouldn’t be gone long.”
You had taken him for his word then. You knew what he did, and you knew it was not out of the ordinary to have an early morning assignment.
You’d ignored the coiling in your stomach, kissed him goodbye, and returned to a fitful sleep.
When he didn’t come back that morning, you’d naively assumed it was just taking longer than he thought.
When he didn’t come back the next morning, you’d accepted that he was dead.
But when you saw him just outside of town, three months later, galloping away at full speed atop your prized horse, you swore to all that was holy that you’d never forgive Sakusa Kiyoomi for breaking your heart.
to be continued...
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#haikyuu#hq#haikyuu fanfic#haikyuu smau#hq smau#haikyuu angst#haikyuu fluff#haikyuu sakusa#sakusa x reader#sakusa kiyoomi#sakuska kiyoomi x reader#kiyoomi x reader#sakusa x you#kiyoomi x you#sakusa smau#haikyuu x reader#mw.sakusa kiyoomi#lonesome town
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