#I need that salt on my tongue rn | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

kiirschtein-archive · 1 year

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⋆ 「 𝐨𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐨𝐩𝐞𝐧 𝐫𝐨𝐚𝐝. 」 ⋆

toji's tired and doesn't feel like hearing you run your mouth in the passenger's seat of his car. so you find other ways to occupy yourself.

pairing. — toji fushiguro x f!reader

word count. — 893

content. — nsfw (18+ only), established relationship, daddy kink, toji's a lil mean (duh), pet names (baby, babygirl, little girl), finger sucking, masturbation (f), brief mention of penetrative sex.

notes. — i have toji brainrot so bad rn y'all it's not even funny. so i had to write this while working tonight LMAO i just needed to get it out of my brain. hope you enjoy <3

It’s late, and the back roads are lit up only by the headlights as the two of you skirt around curves in his expensive car. You’d bet money that you’re going well over the designated speed limit, because Toji, despite being exhausted from a long day, is still fulfilling his habit of being on the brink of reckless driving. The air is cool where he has the driver’s side window down to let the smoke from his cigarette stream out, and he’s silent as you seemingly burst with energy next to him.

You’ve been rambling on for a few minutes now about something you’ve been particularly excited about as of late, chatting your tired boyfriend’s ear off without realizing it. The low hum of the radio hardly even gets to make itself known beneath your continuous jubilant speech.

“And I can’t believe that—”

“Baby,” Toji’s voice is raised just the slightest bit to overpower yours, cutting you off before you can go on. You watch as he inhales and exhales his final breath of smoke, flicking the cigarette butt outside and rolling up the window. “Can you do daddy a favor and shut your fuckin’ mouth for a minute?”

You can finally hear the radio now that silence sweeps over you and you’re able to absorb the nonchalant harshness of his words. It doesn’t affect you too badly, however. He’s always like this.

But narrowing your eyes into a half-hearted glare, you declare coldly in his direction, “You’re mean.”

The both of you know that you aren’t exactly heartbroken, nor are you entirely serious with your angry pout and juvenile words, so Toji speaks just as apathetically as before, “Yeah, well cry me a river over it, little girl.” He reaches a calloused hand over to roughly squeeze at your knee. It hurts a little, and there’s no smile from him nor a laugh, but you’re fully aware that it’s his way of being somewhat sadistically playful, attempting to dismantle any potential hard feelings.

Toji loosens his grip but leaves his hand there, letting you feel its warmth against your chilled skin. His fingers are so large and picturesque in a rugged sort of way, thumb stroking absentmindedly as his gaze continues to pierce ahead at the road. It’s so quiet that you suddenly feel the urge to be a little impish; maybe there are other things you can do with your mouth besides talk.

Taking him by the wrist and forearm, you guide his hand up to slide two big fingers between your lips, soaking them in the saliva that freshly pools in your mouth. He tastes like salt and nicotine, all too familiar against the flat of your tongue, and it prompts you to start a gentle suck. Toji smirks and huffs at the feeling of your hot mouth around him, muscles flexing but resisting the impulse to fuck his fingers forward until the tips hit the back of your throat. Instead, he lets you occupy yourself with your ability to take full control.

This new sense of quiet is oddly like music to his ears, only interrupted by the occasional suckling noise and the tiny hums you make in between them. “That’s a good girl,” he drawls and praises with a wicked smile on his face, pressing his fingers down against your tongue for only a moment and stealing a glance over at you as he does so. Then he starts to laugh. "Shit, I shoulda had you doin' this ten minutes ago. Shuts you up nice and good, doesn't it?"

You remove his hand long enough to take a breath and reply, perhaps with a hint of defiance, “Yes, daddy.” It makes his cock twitch when you say it like that.

Toji chuckles again. "That was a rhetorical question, babygirl, but I like where your mind’s at." He never intended for you to stop sucking or being quiet, but he’s too delighted to be bothered by it in the least.

After another minute of working until your tongue is almost sore, the heat between your thighs has increased to an intolerable amount, leaving you yearning for more than just the solution to an oral fixation. You weasel a hand down to work through fabric until a fingertip can gather some slick and swirl it around your clit, causing your cunt to clench and throat to moan around Toji’s fingertips. His head turns to look as you do so, jaw slack, and the car swerves a bit after he loses his focus on driving.

“Fuck, baby, you’re gonna run me off the road.” He grits his teeth and pulls his fingers from your mouth, gently gripping you by the jaw as he takes a moment to correct the steering wheel. Once on another straight path, Toji looks back over at you stroking your clit and presses his thumb past your lips and onto your tongue. You look at him with furrowed brows and moan, drool now spilling down your chin.

“Screw this,” he mutters, deciding he’s finally had enough. Within a second he’s pulling the car off the side of the road without warning, throwing it into park and undoing your seat belt with haste.

It doesn’t take long for him to have you sitting nice and pretty on his cock, and he’s not complaining about the noise this time.

#toji fushiguro x reader #toji x reader #jjk x reader #toji fushiguro smut #c. — toji fushiguro #blurb. — toji fushiguro #smut. — toji fushiguro #my writing.

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starwurldd · 7 days

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ORAL FIXATION ☆ FT MIGUEL O'HARA.

★. masterlist ᡣ𐭩

☆. headcannons for miguel ! coming soon…

★. currently listening to… ON DAT BXTCH - LUMI ATHENA

☆. this fic contains… intentional lowercase. everyone is 18+ ! miguel o’hara x reader. fem bodied reader. blackcoded but anyone can read it. chubby!reader. spiderwoman!reader. reader wears a pink spider suit. miguel calls you spiderbarbie as a insult because of your suit. miguel o’hara. miguel has a nose piercing. also has salt/pepper brown hair because he be stressin’. miguel speaks spanish. masterbation (fem.) kissing. pet names. hair pulling. throat fucking. heavy dirty talk. not proofread so mistakes are def present .

★. summary… you’ve always had a persistent oral fixation. since you were small you always had your mouth on something, but miguel wants to help fix that nasty habit once and for all. (I’m terrible at descriptions.)

☆. word count aprox… 2k.

★. notes… hi! I’m kinda back into the writing scene? I originally posted this on a03 but decided to also move it here for some reason, just with a couple of tweaks. Hopefully during the summer I can write more and produce some more fics/head cannons or whatever. Main goal rn is to clean out my drafts to declutter. Until then, see ya later ! <3

one of the many, many strange things about miguel o’hara was his attention to detail. his keen observation and good memory grants him the ability to notice even the smallest, minute changes. doesn’t matter if something is slightly moved from its original spot or if old paint starts to lose its tint, it never escapes his vigilant, hawk-like eyes, not even you. to him, your sucker seemed like an inseparable part of you, which he was absolutely right about. ever since you were little you’ve always had a knack for putting things in your mouth—chewing pen caps, biting water bottle tops. your bad habit offered a bit of comfort, especially during anxiety inducing moments. gum became a temporary solution, always at hand to help your needs, but over time gum became boring so you moved on to the next big thing: candy. a sweet, textured solution of various sizes that seemed to be helpful. though, out of the millions and millions of options, only suckers stuck: a pink lemonade flavor. the taste left a soft tingle in your mouth which you couldn’t get enough of. you weren’t exactly new to the world of suckers but this one you really liked a lot. like a lot, a lot. the first time you let the ball of sugar rest on your tongue you bought almost $133 worth of suckers off amazon and almost finished them in the same week. between battling villains to regular day job hours, you always had one in your mouth. the feeling of something so heavy and so sweet resting on your tongue just felt so good.

your obsession soon extended to the spider society, stashing suckers in your spidey belt or around the base. there was even a time miguel found some taped under his control pad, which he was obviously not happy about. when you arrived at headquarters your mask was pulled over your nose to expose your mouth at work. signature lollipop hidden between your soft, glossed lips. the candy’s hue stained them a charming baby pink, a shade that complimented you cutely. as you traversed the corridors you greeted a couple of members you happened to pass by—some familiar faces. others new arrivals. flashing them with your gorgeous smile and a wave you continued your way towards the meeting room, you knew gwen, peter b, jessica, patrick, and of course miguel were all gonna be discussing something important. the moment you enter you catch miguel’s gaze immediately. a viscous glare that shows his impatience clearly. "well look who finally decided to show! oh don’t mind us, spiderbarbie," he says, voice oozing with mockery, "we were just y’know, waiting here for you so you can grace us with your presence!" a mean smile sits crookedly on his handsome face. afterwards he formally greets you with a venom laced "you’re late." before rubbing his temples with the pads of his fingers. still standing in the doorway you mock his expression. “i’m not late, you’re just early.” your remark causes some of your coworkers to snicker.

of course, miguel doesn’t like your snarky tone. with a scoff of irritation he rolls his scarlet eyes with a disapproving smack escaping, a sound that’s unique to him. “if you’re just gonna show up late, why do you even—you know what? whatever. it doesn’t matter just get in your seat.” he just bears his vampire-like teeth in hope of being more authoritative but it never works, especially not with you. you move away from the closing doors to your assigned spot at the meeting table. miguel says nothing, his towering presence does all the talking for him. tough, broad shoulders squared in a stance that radiated his disappointment, strong arms crossed firmly over his chest, fingers gripping the fabric of his suit as if channeling his discontent into a physical grip. as the others dived into details of the mission, you found yourself becoming more and more bored with the conversation. It wasn’t long before your focus turned to something else, something more fun. subconsciously, your hand reached for your sucker, the vibrant swirl of sweetness was your favorite diversion. the plump rim of your mouth wrapped sensuously around the candy again.

as minutes stretched into an eternity of plans and contingencies, miguel's authoritative voice droned on. anomalies here, some dimension rifts there with the occasional bickering with lyla about the shared info. you, however, were busy letting your mind wonder, sucking and savoring that not so subtle, lemonade escape. miguel catches the shift in your attention. slowly but surely frustration began to etch its way across his features once again. it was that stupid, rose colored candy twirling in your mouth. while lyla was keeping the others engaged miguel crumpled a old sticky note behind his back and with a swift, precise motion, he balled up a piece of paper in his hand tightly. the tension between you two momentarily thickened as he aimed and then, without a second thought, he flicked his wrist, sending the paper flying across the room. the paper sailed through the air, landing with a soft thud on the side of your thigh. your eyes followed the trajectory back to its source, meeting miguel's intense gaze, his eyes speaking volumes as they bore into yours, he quietly formed the words “pay attention.” but instead of complying, you stuck your middle finger up at him before casually shifting your attention to the projections, a sly smile spreads on your lips. soon the sucker became more like a prop. a deliberate instrument of play. you trace the outline of your lips in a teasing manner, your slow, deliberate movements contrasting with the urgency of the discussions.

throughout the whole meeting miguel tried his best to focus on the conversation but of course he found himself entranced by the dance of candy and saliva. his eyes couldn't help but follow the slick trail the drool left in its wake, tracing its glistening path over your luscious lips. It was an act that blurred the line between innocent indulgence and tantalizing seduction. you shoot a side glance at him, loving the way his nose scrunched up at you and that gorgeous vein on his forehead getting more and more taut. miguel clenches his jaw, trying to maintain his composure in the face of your teasing. as you finally withdrew the sucker from your mouth, his hand instinctively rose to rub his forehead, a feeble attempt to hide the blush creeping up his cheeks. the telltale signs of his embarrassment were evident in the deepening hue of his ears, glowing a dark shade of red. as the meeting pressed on, miguel's patience wore thin. clearing his throat, he shifted his gaze away momentarily to the rest of the group. lyla gives one more rundown on the situation at hand before miguel creates pairs to help with the investigation. peter and gwen had been paired off to place more anomaly trackers. jessica was tasked with helping close up rifts between universes. however, when she suggested a partnership with you, miguel's voice cut through like a whip-crack. "i got her." he asserted, his tone firm, leaving no room for negotiation. "patrick can go with you. barbie—" his gaze shifted to you, “you’re with me.” with the decision settled, a swirling portal manifested, miguel took the lead, beckoning you to follow. you were in a futuristic city, similar to miguel’s but this one felt more ghostly. it was quiet, tranquil. rain lashed down in sheets, the droplets hitting the ground with a force that sent up sprays of water. soft lightning forked across the dark, brooding sky, illuminating the scene in stark, brief flashes. the only thing that protected you from the onslaught of water was a rust torn metal sheet hanging about you attached to a brick wall, a dry halo surrounds you that ends at the tip of the roof. the moment the portal closed behind you the proximity changed the tone between you two. miguel turned to you, his eyes no longer weighed down by sternness, but instead ablaze with a different intensity. eyes fixed on the sucker, now sticking to the side of your mouth, he speaks up.

"I see you have a bad habit," he taunts. "and I need to fix it."

miguel tucks some of his silver colored strands behind his ear and wrinkles his pierced nose. “you’re so fucking annoying,” he growls, “you and that stupid sucker.” that's when miguel takes his time, eyeing you as he torturously drags his clawed hand against his stomach, the holographic layer slowly rippling apart. the disturbed film revealed parts of his muscular thighs and already semi hard cock, bulging and twitching. he was huge, veins strewn about like vines, if dick analysis was a club somewhere you would be the ceo of it. using a wave of his hand, miguel was able to remove his hologram suit completely, “i don't like you. you never listened to me, did whatever you wanted…” your legs clenched tighter together where you sat, “but I liked it. still do.” you softly moan to yourself when his hard cock hits his stomach. you needed to lick him up real soon, it’s almost inhuman the way he looks down at you. “keep looking at me like that, amor,” he huffs, “keep those pretty eyes on me.” he guides your face a bit closer to him. you place your hands on the cold, concrete floor for a bit of stability, still sitting on balls of your feet . miguel grabs the base of his cock and rubs the tip on your lips. spreading a mixture of precum and drool across them. “ngh—just fucking—” miguel stretches his arms out as a force of habit, holding each side of your head so he can work his pretty cock in nice and easy. “don’t move your head, please, just stay here,” you can see his earlier irritation start to crumble, turning him into a desperate mess. you keep eye contact with him, placing a couple of kisses on the head before wrapping your lips around the tip with a smile. he was fixing to say something (probably something that helped him fake some control) until you take him further down your mouth.

his thighs twitch as he lightly moves his hips, trying so hard to meet your lips, and when you let him a gasp flees from his agape mouth as you gag and suck. releasing him with a wet pop and maintaining eye contact you ask, “so you like me?” you watch him look around for a couple of seconds before he closes his eyes with a sigh and whispers a soft “yes, yes I like you.” you could barely hear him over the rain but his confession made butterflies dance around in your tummy. with a devilish smirk you slick your puffy lips along the sides of his cock, darting your tongue out and moaning deeply. you remove both hands off the ground to wrap one around the base and the other on his balls. you place on your lips to start sucking on the tip as you work both hands simultaneously. saliva building, bubbles forming the quicker you bob your head and stroke his dick. you heard him huff out soft whispers of ‘si si si, buena chica’ before you switch gears. you release his cock with a loud pop before going lower. the hand that was once massaging his balls was used to support you. you nudge his balls with your tongue before sucking one of them into your mouth, keeping your rhythm stroking mostly the tip, a low growl escapes his pretty lips. “no pares por favor no pares! dios mío, te amo.” from the way he’s howling you know that's his most sensitive area, his breathing is frantic, a waterfall of drool drips down his jaw and some droplets land on you nose.

you spread your fingers languidly, sticky with his precum and your spit, you can feel the blood pulsing in his cock, rotating your hand and sucking the heavy sack as the whimpers that vibrate in your throat travel to him. “dios mío, lo estás haciendo muy bien, amor,” he babbles, “sigue así, sí, sí, sí just like that.” miguel’s eyes are scrolling back. if the universe didn’t know any better you could say that he was possessed. the sound he makes is so needy that it makes your clit throb even harder, you slip a finger inside your spider suit, going lower and lower until you reach the elastic of your laced panties, slipping inside. Using some of your arousal you rub tiny, tight circles on your clit to help the ache go down and your legs begin to shake. you have to clutch onto miguel’s thigh so you don’t lose your sense of reality.

when it becomes too much and your clit gets super sensitive, you know you’re close, ending the fun too soon, and so you stop. You let him go, you take a step back to lock at your work. miguel was a mess, hair wildly laying on his head, face decorated with drool and sweat, his eyes are all on you. you could have sworn you saw some hearts beating in his irises. “what- why’d you stop?” you give him your most innocent look. “wanna play with you some more,” you whisper. you go to wipe your jaw with your forearm but he stops you, a firm grip on your wrist. “don't fuckin’ tease me, mocosa or i swear-” but before he could finish you giggle, purposely pissing him off further. the vein on his forehead goes taut again. “f-fuck!” he curses angrily, groaning with pain and pleasure stirring inside. his dick jumping for attention. you pout, voice oozing with mockery, “you want it?” reclaiming your position previously with your hand wrapped around his cock again, tightly gripping the base, miguel’s jaw clenches, sharp nails balling into fists as he tears into the wall behind him. “please, fuck just please- please let me have it. I need it. I need you, fuck, just-” he rambles, pratically growling. without another word you decide to ease the teasing and suck him off as you rub your clit again. you moan out with each rotation, alternating from circular motions to flicking motions. you’re trembling again. your breathing is sporadic, heart is pounding in your chest, you’re close. “f-fuck, { ur name }. g’na cum. voy a correrme en tu maldita garganta, fuck!” he grips the wall even tighter, the bricks slowly turning to powder from the sheer force. he could feel the hitching in your breath, “ joder si, cum with me, cum with me yeah? please cum with me.” and you do. your orgasm almost knocks the wind out of you, and the cherry on top was when miguel released a deep, guttural moan as he came down your throat. after you fully come, you remove your slick webbed fingers from the front of your panties, wiping them on your thigh, before you slide down to your knees. miguel, tired and slumped against the wall, reached out, his hands gentle as he cupped your cheeks. his touch was gentle, caring. "lo hiciste muy bien, amor" he murmured, voice soft, his words a caress against your ears. "you did so, so well for me, moscota." miguel, who’s usually stern and serious, found himself softening in your presence, a strange yet relaxing thing to witness. a small, appreciative smile tugged at the corners of your lips. his exhaustion momentarily forgotten, he leaned down, his lips first brushing against your nose in a sweet, lingering kiss before finding their way to your pretty mouth. It was a soft, tender moment."¿Quieres agarrar algunas empanadas?" he asked, his voice warm and inviting, suggesting a moment of shared comfort in a simple meal. When your head cocked adorably to the side he rephrased his sentence, “wanna get food? know this good spot back home.” before you could respond, jess interrupted, her heavy sigh drawing both of your attention "you forgot to turn off the voice receiver," she said, her tone a mix of annoyance and amusement.

how in the hell were you gonna explain what just happened?

─────────── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───────────

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wroteclassicaly · 2 years

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Giving eddie a hand job and whispering praises in his ear while he sits pretty and slowly becomes an aroused mess, only focusing on how good you're making him feel 😔

Okay, listen… I have a thing for Eddie Munson being a subby lil’ man. And many, many visuals, rn. So I’m gonna write a little something in the cut below. :P

Send me a hot scenario and I will rate it

When Eddie Munson agreed to let you ‘try something’, he wasn’t exactly sure just what you had planned for him. Reversing the roles of lap sitting is definitely not what he could’ve fathomed in his cynical brain. Yet, here he sits, bare ass on your jean clad thigh, his own denim and boxers bunched around his ankles, only to be kicked away seconds later by your demanding encouragement, his head tilted back to rest on your shoulder, curls sweaty and damp on his forehead. You’re the one who sits on his dungeon master throne, polished nails biting into the meat of his left thigh as it’s spread out over your other leg. He’s completely at your mercy.

“Good boy, Eds.” You whisper into his ear, you warm breath caressing the shell and making his cock twitch in your spit-slick palm.

You tap it against his thick erection, humming underneath your breath. “Don’t stop your multi-tasking on my account, baby boy.”

He croons at the damned pet names, head turning to the side in a breathless plea for a kiss. Your grant him a mere hover of your lips, choosing that moment to begin tugging his cock in a sinfully wet glide. His lips purse, mouth dropping open into a series of pitiful whimpers. He squirms on your lap, his tall and lanky form practically rutting into that denim seam that runs between your thighs—your only barrier.

“My boyfriend has such a pretty cock. Gonna split me open later, aren’t you? You wanna make me cry, Eddie, hmm?”

“Y/N… Please—“

You squeeze him around the base, your other hand combing through his chocolate tresses. “Shh, Eddie. I know. You’re being perfect for me, trusting me to take control. Make you feel good.”

Eddie arches into your hand, gaining his own friction. You immediately halt your movements, your tongue licking a crude stripe up his neck, tasking perspiring salt and hints of his aftershave and cheap cologne.

Debaucherous and downright filthy, you’re beginning to focus on that translucent cream bubbling at the head of his dick. You swipe your thumb across it, swirling it around that vein on the underside of him, before pressing the digit into your mouth and groaning around it, releasing with a pop. “Tastes so fucking good, Eds.”

His hands, which are still remaining in their position on the arms of his chair, begin to stir. You let him cup your jawline, bringing your lips close to his. “Fuckin’ need to feel your mouth on mine, Y/N.”

The kiss is noisy and sloppy, Eddie’s tongue greedily moving against your own, pushing, licking, making a mess of you until you’re sharing a disgustingly long string of saliva, that drizzles on the break away, landing on your knuckles. You spread your fingers, letting it seep in and douse Eddie’s cock. His face buries into your neck, forgetting his campaign plans spread out on the table before you both. He’s fighting not to thrust into your grip, begging in silent screams. You trace your fingers down his back, tapping his tailbone. “Up and sit back against the table for me.”

He obeys without question, palms down, arms back behind him, naked body on display. You find it difficult to walk, that squish between your thighs soaking through your panties. Hell, maybe even the jeans too. Your pupils are blown so wide that it makes your damn vision foggy and lust-filled. You remember your dominance, fingernails crawling up his chest and pulling the guitar pick chain, flicking it several times, leaning forward and running your tongue across his nipple, teeth scraping in that rough way that he likes, relishing in the hiss that comes from him, his cock’s tip collecting more pre-cum, all the way up into that happy trail that’s shining with it.

You suck and bite at the surrounding flesh of his pectoral tattoo, your hand working back over his cock, pumping him into a sopping wet fist, collecting more of his essence on the fingers of your free hand, pressing it to his plush lips. Those chocolate eyes are completely gone, only a glossy black casting its sparkling shadow in the middle of his sclera. He opens his mouth, sampling every last drop.

“Yeah, good boy, Eddie. How do you taste? Know how you’re always making me taste myself too?” When he nods, common sense obliterated, you’re stepping as close as you can get without smashing your body into his. “And you know what, baby? You taste way better.”

“N-not a chance in Hell.” He manages.

You laugh, running your hands through his hair, both of you watching how you stroke and pleasure him. You let your hand slide around, smacking at his ass a little, smirking. “There we go. You’re doing so well for me, Eddie. I’m proud of you.”

He’s giddy and nearly loses his load right then and there. You feel him throb in your grip. “Yeah, you like that? That I’m proud of you, Eds?”

“You’re so getting fucked until you can’t walk, just know that.” He’s panting as he says it, his tone meant to be threatening and seductive, but coming out as a simpering mess.

You smirk. “Careful, Dungeon Master. It seems that I have got the… upper hand here.”

#asks #eddie munson x fem!reader smut #eddie munson x female reader #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x fem!reader #eddie munson smut #eddie munson drabble #eddie munson #stranger things 4 fanfiction #stranger things 4 #stranger things fic #stranger things #stranger things fanfiction #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson fic #thanks so much for the ask! ^_^

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leewritestoomuch · 3 months

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I’ll Eat My Hat

This was supposed to be cute. And it is, once you get past the topic of death.

So warning about topic of death.

Ukyo Saionji x reader

I actually hate this, but take that with a grain of salt bc I always hate what I write. If I didn’t hate it, I’ve been replaced with a ghost writer and call for help.

I promise I can write better than this. I just haven’t written anything in a while.

“And if I died?” The question was a lot darker than the previous questions and conversation. To you, the question rolled off the tongue with a giggle, looking up at him. Though to you, he was upside down, but that’s because you were laying down, head resting on his thigh, looking back and up at him. You sat up when you noticed his face fall a little bit.

“I’d hope that wouldn’t happen.” He almost whispers, a smile cracking across his face. He looks about to cry, and you realize, he’s probably thought out that scenario. And you realize you should probably just move on and drop the conversation.

“S—” You start but he cuts you off.

“But even if it did, I’d always love you.” He looks like he’s fighting hiding his face in his hands. And he is, because shouldn’t he be stronger than this? He doesn’t though, he just look at you for a moment before he speaks again. “And maybe, I’d go too. Soon enough.”

“No, I’d want you to live.” Your eyes, previously fixed on something just past him, now snap over to meet his. “Don’t give up like that.”

“Well, I’d eat my hat if that day ever came so… I don’t think we have anything to worry about.” Ukyo snickers.

“Because you don’t worry about it?” You catch him off guard.

“No. I mean, well, yes. I do, but it’s just paranoia.” He says, chuckling as he looks down at the ground.

…

That conversation feels more like a distant memory now. As you slip on and fasten up some wooden shoes to do some scavenging around the forest with Kohaku, you think back to it though. This isn’t death, so why does that conversation come to mind?

You’ve been awake for less than a week, and you’re going to war soon. And maybe you will die, then your beloved boyfriend will have to eat his hat. Of course, that’s not what he’s worried about, though.

You two weren’t together when the petrification happened, so you don’t have much of a clue where to find him. What if his statue was broken? Then what?

Questions like that float through your head for days and weeks until you’re told stories by Gen and Magma about a man who had terrifying archery skills. And it feels silly, because archery is a well respected sport in Japan, which cultural roots too, so that could have been anybody, but your mind went straight to the idea that it’s him.

They say he aimed at them, and that you find harder to believe. Your boyfriend always was intimidating, when he needed to be, but he was a pacifist. If their blood was on his hands, you know he’d never sleep well again.

Yet you find yourself asking for any sort of detail that confirms your hopes it is him, because maybe there is a good explanation for his hostility. And for why he’s working for your enemy.

(I literally do not remember the episode very well at all so I’m adding my own twist bc I’m not rewatching it rn)

Gen says they couldn’t really see him, but they know he’s got excellent hearing.

“It’s like he could hear a feather drop.” He says.

And your heart skips a beat because that’s got to be your boyfriend. Yet, time passes and nothing. You can’t just walk onto enemy lines to find your boyfriend. And on top of that, you’ve began to delude yourself that there is some other man in the area with excellent, inhuman hearing and impeccable archery skills.

You brush all that off, ignoring it for now. Even if it’s clawing at you, there is work to be done. So here you are, sitting on the cold, wooden floor of the hut. Gen and Senku were on the phone with a woman named Nikki. A self proclaimed super fan of Lillian Weinberg, as you’ve come to understand. You, being from the United States, had helped him just a little bit with his facts regarding the famous singer. He knew a lot, so did Senku, but you had input too.

When you all played the recording, she believed it, but a faint, yet stern voice cut through the air from the behind the phone. Then the phone is taken, and a familiar voice speaks. Your heart stops for a moment as you realize, the archer was your boyfriend. After barely hearing the next words he, Gen, or Senku spoke, you finally snap back to reality when you hear “we have somebody who is better at English than the both of us.”

And the microphone of the giant phone is suddenly being shoved into your hand.

“So what exactly do you want?” The line is whispered to you to say. You repeat it, trying not to stutter over your words. The line goes silent on the other end for a moment, before he speaks.

Gen and Senku exchange glances because you, as stone faced and cold as you are, have never seemed nervous before. You don’t fail to notice, but you don’t say anything.

“I don’t want blood.” He says, sounding a bit more emotional now.

“I know you don’t.” You say softly back, and confusion settles into the room.

“So I’m not crazy. It’s you?” You nod, before remembering he can’t see you to know you did.

“No, you’ve lost your mind. Now you have to eat a hat.” You chuckle.

“I just got this one.” He says.

“Alright, I don’t know how you two know each other,” Senku bluntly cuts you off. “But wrap it up, we have a negotiation to discuss? Let’s be 100% to the point here. We can do this with no blood.”

You sit back, smiling, knowing you’ll see him once this is over.

#Ukyo saionji x reader #Ukyo saionji #ukyo x reader #dr. stone x reader #dr stone #dr stone x reader #Dr stone x you

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ladyofthebears · 2 months

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Okay! Here is the sneak peek y’all voted for, for my fic coming out soon. I decided that said sneak peek will be my entire Prologue chapter. The formatting is a lil odd rn, and please tell me if you have any notes thus far. Love y’all and without further ado, here is my prologue

JACAERYS i

The first thing Jacaerys Velaryon felt was cold. A kind of cold that chills you to your bones, a cold that takes days to fully escape your body again.

The other thing he felt was pain.

Not a physical pain, but a pain firmly planted behind his temples radiating across his skull. It was not a simple pain but rather one of emptiness. It whispered of something that wasn’t there anymore; A gaping wound behind his eyes that leaked sadness and despair and most of all loneliness into his barely conscious brain.

Beyond his own head, jace could hardly feel anything but numb, his body cold and wet, his hands half fisted against splintered wood and sand. He was rocking, slowly and steadily, like he used to watch Harwin and his father do for Luke and Joffrey. Back and forth, over and over as he had seen so many times, lulled to sleep by the movement of his fathers arms as they rocked his brothers to sleep.

Sleep- he couldnt sleep now, he needed to get up. He didnt know why but it was as though the pain in the back of his head was screaming for him to get up.

He tried to lift his own eyelids but it was as though they both weighed tons. He was alone in the dark, with something ebbing in and out against his cheek over and over. When jace had been small enough to still be permitted to curl into his mothers arms, he used to press his ear to her sternum and listen to the rhythmic sound that vibrated through her whole body and into his. Maybe this was death- emptiness with the constant comfort of his mother’s beating heart to lull him to his eternal sleep. Jacaerys thought he wouldn’t mind if that’s all death was, an old familiar lullaby before a final rest.

But the thought of his mother made the loneliness in his mind twinge like a newly scabbed wound, pulling uncomfortably as his body shifted against it.

Then suddenly, all he could see was the shoreline before him. His eyes were crusted and stung in the spray of the ocean, but he could unmistakably see the beach who used to run on with his father and brother and-

His brother

His baby brother

Lucerys

Everything came crashing back to him at once- His grandsires death and visenya and Aemond murdering his brother and Jace trying to take Aegon and Viserys away to safety.

The emptiness in his brain stung again, ringing slowly drowning out the crashing waves as he tried to touch the frayed edges of the broken bridge in his mind.

He had never been completely alone before- Vermax had always been there, on the edge of his consciousness, with his flairs of joy at feeding times and burst of annoyance at either the chains or the dragon keepers or the other hatchlings.

But he was gone.

And Luke was gone.

And so was his Grandsire- and everyone else.

His fathers and his aunt and gods, Egg and little Viserys. They were all gone, and he was here, lying in the sands on the beaches he used to roam before it all went up in flames.

He was alone, in every possible way, for the first time in his life.

Maybe it made him weak, but in that moment, Jace could feel his lips tremble as they once did when he was a child. The salt on his tongue tasted sharper and more metallic, as he finally cried out in anguish.

He had lost everything- and now he lost his dragon. The only thing making him a true targaryen in anyones eyes. The only thing that made him more then the snide whispers at court and the pointed remarks from Alicent and her brood.

His knees buckled as they hit the slopping sand leading to the beaches, but as he went to catch himself on his hands, the numbness that once occupied his body was gone all at once. A new pain joined the one already consuming his mind, but this pain was different it was sharp and tangible and oh-

His stared down at the piece of wood pinned to his chest as he awkwardly pushed himself up, his arms splayed wide as he rose onto his knees in the ebbing tides.

The sharp pain rushed through him again- pulsing like a live flame, burning through his body. It was all he could do to keep from buckling back over again.

Tentatively he pulled at the wood and with a soft, wet noise, it fell away to reveal what was keeping it pinned.

He slowly reached his right hand up to the arrow protruding from just above his collar bone.

Fuck

He may not be a maester or a medic by any means but even he knew an arrow anywhere was bad.

He had to get it out of him- he had to get it out of him and find a ship, or his grandfather, or better yet Baela. He had to go find Egg and Viserys.

Jace knew he wasnt strong like his mother- he could not be split open from the inside out for hours on end only to smile down at the being that pushed its way through him so violently. He wasnt strong like Daemon either, he saw his burns and how they pulled against his skin as he moved, pink and raw even after years of healing. He wasnt even strong like Lucerys, he couldnt face his certain death and march forward. He was just Jacaerys Velayron- just Jace, and in this moment he never felt weaker.

But he knew he had to be brave. He had to be Strong.

Jaces hand quaked as he wrapped his fingers around the shaft of the arrow, barely fitting his fist under the point.

He knew enough to know the only way an arrow came out was to go through. And he knew what he needed to do. Gritting his teeth and steeling his nerves, Jacaerys yanked the arrow forward with all his might.

The arrow came free- flying from his wet hand and landing on the sand in front of him with a sickening thud.

And then all Jacaerys knew was a familiar black.

#house of the dragon #a song of ice and fire #asoiaf #baela targaryen #helaena targaryen #rhaenyra targaryen #alicent hightower #dance of the dragons #jacaerys velaryon #daemon targaryen #vermax #viserys ii targaryen #aegon iii targaryen #harwin strong #lucerys velaryon #quite a few people mentioned #idk #i hope yall like it #i am v nervy

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roman0writes · 11 months

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𝒞𝑜𝓂𝒾𝓃𝑔 𝒪𝓊𝓉

Bellamy x fem!reader

A/N: I wrote this as a commission for someone who tumblr is being glitchy and won’t let me tag rn. The original post is up on my old blog @rowan-sins but I figured I’d post it here too

Content warnings: fem!reader, coming out

In order to feel the joy of being loved you must face the horrifying ordeal of being known. Or the time the sea salt breeze on Dressarosa shores eases you into confessing your deepest secret.

You can taste the salt on your tongue, from the balcony overlooking the streets of the small trading port you called home. The balcony is small, barely enough room for two people to stand next to the potted plant you put petunias in it.

Enough room for you to stand shoulder to shoulder with someone you love far more than a friend. Enough room for you to justify encroaching in Bellamy’s personal space. He hardly seems to mind, if the way he scooches away from the side railing and presses his bicep into your shoulder, letting your head rest against the hard muscle of his arm.

You can taste the salt on your tongue, heavy like the ocean just behind your house. You can taste the truth on your tongue, light like the sea breeze the tickles your nose. It’s a confession you owe to no-one that falls off your tongue.

“I’m bisexual,” you say. It breaks the peaceful silence. And the air feels tenser now that your truth has been spoken. You don’t know why you said it. Or what compelled you to do so. This was very much your business and not his, but it still sat in the open air, light and frothy like sea foam stuck in sand of shore.

“Is that so?” He responds. “I’m glad you’re finally honest with yourself.”

Shock colors your expression, and you look at him incredulously. He turns to look at your expression, and smiles at the blatant shock on your face.

“How the fuck did you figure it out before I did?” You exclaim.

The wind ruffles his blonde hair, and if you weren’t mad at him, you’d reach up and fix his hair himself. But he’s being stupid, so his stupid blond hair can be as messy as the higher powers deem necessary.

“With that haircut…” He grins even wider, his fake teeth almost indistinguishable from the real ones “… I’m surprised you didn’t come out as a lesbian!”

“Bellamy!” You punch him in the shoulder when he starts laughing.

“Also, you’re not as slick as you think you are staring at Baby 5’s boobs.”

The second time you punch him you aim for the face.

You could probably hear his yell from the streets of freshly liberated Dressarosa. “Hey! What was that for!”

“Being a jerk!”

“Oh so I’m jerk now!”

“Yeah a big old meanie!”

“I’ll remember that the next you ask me for help when you fall out of a chair!”

You laugh and roll your eyes when he pushes you into the side railing on your side of the tiny balcony. “Like I’ll need your help when I get a pretty butch girlfriend.”

“Like you need a pretty butch girlfriend when you have me.”

The world gets quiet again. Birds chirping drowned out by the silence between you two.

“That’s the lamest way to ask someone out. Ever.”

“But did it work?”

“You free Wednesday evening?”

“Yeah, why?”

“Then it’s a date!”

“That was even lamer than what I said!” He exclaims.

You roll your eyes and lean closer to him. “But did it work?”

He groans and leans down, closer to you. “Just shut up and kiss me.”

And well, who were you to deny such a lovely request from such a lovely friend.

#one piece #bellamy #bellamy x reader #one piece x reader #Roman during daylight

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pudding-parade · 1 year

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get to know me - useless info edition

I was tagged by @echoweaver (so blame her), so here we go:

What do you have under your bed? Big, flat Rubbermaid storage containers. We use them to store out-of-season clothing and computer parts and Christmas wrapping paper and all sorts of things. That way, the stuff is out of the way but still easily accessible when we need it.

Also, dust bunnies.

Favorite candy? SALMIAKKI!!!! (You Finns will understand. LOL ) I'm actually not a huge fan of sweet, so the tangy saltiness of salmiakki appeals to me, even though I'm not all that big on black licorice. The combination of the licorice with the ammonia salt, though, really works for me. A few Finns recommended that I try it when I went on a Nordic cruise with a stop in Helsinki a few years back, so I did and fell and love, and now I order a supply online a couple times a year, since I've never found it for sale in a store here in the US.

Alternatively, I like York Peppermint Patties. Or, if I have a cough, root beer barrel hard candies to suck on.

Describe your favorite shirt: One just like this one, which my daughter bought me for my birthday a few years back because she knows me too well:

I love wearing it when in the redder/more conspiracy-theory-prone areas of my state. (Remember: My Congressional representative is…Lauren Boebert. My county didn't vote for her since we're one of the bluest counties in the country, but we are unfortunately surrounded by deep-red counties with larger populations, and Boebert is a good representation of those people. It's encouraging that she only barely held on to her seat, at least. *sigh* )

The last thing you drew/doodled was: Because my drawing talent is nil, I only ever doodle music. As in, I draw a staff and then doodle notes on it, often but not always with faces in the note heads. The funny thing is that sometimes the doodles become actual compositions. Are you completely sober rn? Right now? Yes. However, I also have some cannabis brownies in the oven right now, so no promises for later. What's the one thing that annoys you more than anything? Willful ignorance. Being ignorant in general is entirely forgivable, as we are all ignorant of many things. However, when a person refuses to learn because they know that the facts will conflict with what they want to believe, then I will have a problem with them. (See t-shirt above. :) ) Have you ever gotten your tongue stuck to a cold pole during winter? Nope! Though I could give you a long list of much dumber things I've done over the years. If you could be anywhere in the world right now, where would it be? I could do with some ocean right about now. So, Aruba. What was the single last word you spoke? "It!" Which was part of "Stop it!" Which was yelled at a dog going nuts because he noticed a deer outside. Mind you, there are ALWAYS deer outside, so you'd think after four years of living in this house he'd get it through his thick head that he doesn't have to freak out over them, but…nope. Anyone who tells you that dogs are smart is lying. At least when it comes to this dog. I mean, I love him, but "smart" is not a descriptor I'd use for him.

I shall tag: @papermint-airplane, @solori, and @rollo-rolls

As always, feel free to ignore for whatever reason. :)

#memes memes glorious memes

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wileyfern · 1 year

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get to know me - useless info edition

thank you @luxelattesims & @raiiny-bay for the tag 😊

what do you have under your bed?

extra blankets in a tote and cat and dog hair that needs to be cleaned up

favorite candy?

dark chocolate sea salt caramels :)

describe your favorite shirt

it’s a dark olive green sweater that's oversized and I love it dearly

the last thing you drew/doodled was

Bulbasaur! I love me my little bulb kid

are you completely sober rn?

I’m supposed to be working so sadly yes

what's one thing that annoys you more than anything?

Not knowing all the details for like if we’re going somewhere or doing something. My bf will just say lets go and won’t answer where or how long and I hate it sOOOO much

have you ever gotten your tongue stuck to a cold pole during winter?

nope! I wouldn’t do it even if I was triple dog dared (I've seen christmas story a lot and I know not to be stupid)

if you could be anywhere in the world right now, where would it be?

somewhere nice and warm and sunny please

what was the last single word you spoke?

alkjdfa “waluigi” my cat made the waaa sound and I said I should have named him that instead

I’m going to tag! @soulful-simmer @sweetestsimvotion @wildmelon @gothoffspring @jimmybuffettsims @softimbue @simanora @nikatyler

#tag game #i wanna redraw that bulbasaur now

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curatedbysnail · 4 months

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Been having trouble sleeping lately. It's getting quite troublesome since I really need that beauty sleep.

My weight is going up again. I know it's because I'm gaining muscles, but it's still disheartening to see it. I'll try to keep up with my workout routine. It's still too early to give up. I'll try to stick as much as I can with the routine I've design for myself. Hope I can see a little more result by a month!

Honestly, the biggest challenge is not even the workout, it's the diet. Man, I really want to eat some instant noodles rn... I barely manage to hold on. I've allow myself to add a little salt into my foods for now and it does wonders to my tongue! I think I can still holding on with that.

#diary entry #rambles

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flyingcookierambles · 1 year

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oh yeah some silly gpose i guess

under the cut

i have to learn how to screen record tomorrow when the game is back up bc static pictures cannot do the nirvana zeta (replica) justice. the thing changes colors! the gems are rainbow!!! its so pretty. my pride and my joy and my source of pain and suffering for about 1 year lol.

the above were in my Off gshade setting. that is to say, my own setting. which is why it sucks and is so so crunchy. like. i really am envious of Pint (former WoW player, now a ffxiv lalafell streamer and machinima/animator/comedy guy/femboy kinda lol) and his gshade settings are so so pretty and cinematic and the DoF auto setting is good i really have to find the vod or something where he sets it up or answers a question abt it so i can copy. he’s only adjusted it a few times in his vods and i think the names of the settings were just like “Pint ____” so its custom i guess and everything uuugh will he release his settings publicly i need to knowwwwwwww ugh

anyways BLUE TONGUE AAAAAAAA RAEN ARE SO CUTE i can never fantasia to be a xaela or non-au ra race now im sorry the blue tongue is just so so cute and such a dumb little detail i love it lolgruhago

on a shadowbringers train last night (im in a hunt linkshell for Jenova called Hunt VIOLENCE II but is 128/128/full so idk if the ppl running it will make a VIOLENCE III or what lol). someone sniped the grassman :( monke gone

bonus silly adventurer plates

played the piano for francel at the firmament and unlocked charlemend’s custom deliveries finally. loved this scene. on one hand i get that they’re just reusing npcs bc it probably costs money to make new ones or whatever the push of the randomization button is, on the other hand i love that they reuse npcs bc i can name ppl and ishgard feels lived in with your familiar neighbors :)

tbh pre-hw, i accidentally spoiled myself via the subreddit and twt, not on the plot stuff for hw, but the ishgardian restoration. and also a bit of dark knight. so. my impression was the gross communal salt rocks, the squishy beds of mysterious substance, the murder of the innocent orl tribe. so. my first impression, pre-hw, was...not great.....but now that it really seems like they’re trying to make it a better more inclusive place and moving more towards living with the dragons like letting ehll tol and her dragon friends live in the city, plus the machinist questline of the great equalizer power of gun uhhh i mean hilda and her hounds providing the brume and common folk safety in the streets instead of just the corrupt temple knights - ishgard just feels like home now. :) there’s also the crystarium on the first.

anyways, visited another world after seeing a shb hunt ad on the centurio hunts discord.

also, my crappy apartment in-game in the empyreum / the ishgardian housing apartments. im finally decorating it.

saw a concert in gridania aetheryte plaza and there was a portgas d ace cosplayer lol.

anyways i loved my co-healer cajun lettice here lol we all had brain fog. thankfully no full raid wipes, just...our team. lol

slightly outdated, but heres my suffering inventory and relic grind. im on the stupid atma books rn, so kinda disregard the atma shown here rn.

edit: realized i forgor to add the pics of the artemis atma oops. the colorful one is the gshade neneko x eorzea collection natural vanilla settings. the drab boring one is just the vanilla base game. literally. so. drab. even on my regular ps4 and whenever i borrow my sister’s ps5 to play, our tvs have built-in shader/color adjusting settings to make it look not. dirt. ugh. gshade really helps this game i swear idk how vanilla ppl do it anymore lol. its not even like cheating modding fluid aura type game mods like in world of warcraft, its literally just a built in instagram filter lol.

just putting these here bc. uh. i was thinking of helping out that tracking site that’s been helping me not go absolutely bonkers doing these dang relics. they need a picture of it or something i guess. idk. its this website, it saves me so much time and hassle. > https://ffxivrelictracker.com/

ok and maybe the zodiac buddy dalamund add-on*winks*

#games n junk

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exmojoe · 2 years

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This is totally unrelated to this dormant blog lol but as someone who lives in the great state of ✨ariozona✨ where anything less than 110 degrees in the summer is considered a cold front, I thought I could maybe share some advice on dealing with the heat.

1. Be nice to your ACs!!!! If it’s hella hot outside and if you’re blasting your ac, it WILL die on you! My ACs were built for high temperatures but still died this summer. Mine stay at about 76 and drop to about 72 at night. A prolonged mild discomfort is better than your AC crapping out on you and having to replace your unit.

2. Hydrate!!!!!! The best way to tell is by checking the color of your pee. Apple juice color = drink more water. Lemonade color = your good! Lemonade is the ideal color. Clear = you need to pump the breaks on your water. Over hydration is the equivalent of dehydration. At all stages but especially once you’re at clear electrolytes are mega important. Add an electrolyte packet to your water, water down some power aide, eat a pickle, etc! ¡¡¡¡(This only really works once your hydrated, so lemonade or lighter. And express CAUTION when doing this!!!! a SMALL pinch of salt on your tongue will provide an electrolyte boost)!!!!!

3. If you have plants outside either water EARLY in the morning or at night after the sun has set.

4. The sun is most harsh from 10am to 2pm! Wear sunscreen all the time but be most contentious during this time frames.

5. Same with doing outside stuff at these times. Especially if you’re not heat acclimated. If you don’t know what exactly that means, chances are you’re not. Even if you are, you’re likely not acclimated to these new extreme heats. Be careful! The amount of different heat related illnesses there are is kind of outstanding and all of them are beyond terrible!

6. If you deal with seasonal depression, you’ll probably be dealing with a lot of that rn too, sadly. Everyone will also likely have somewhat of a vitamin d deficiency (BUT ALWAYS CONSULT A DR FIRST) it’s hot outside so you won’t be going outside as often which leads to decreased vitamin d.

7. If you have a pet, make sure they’re protected from the heat! If you’re going to take them on a walk check the ground first. (Put the back of your hand on the ground for 5 seconds ¿ if your hand gets ~hot~ you probably shouldn’t take them out) your pet being a little restless later is better than their feet getting burns, or them over heating.

If I can think of more I’ll add them. Stay safe and cool!!

#heatwave #arizona #stay cool #it’s hot out #advice #maybe #climate catastrophe #climate crisis #hydrate or diedrate #hydration #protect yourself pets and plants #seasonal depression #global warming #literally

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plush-rabbit · 3 years

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Intimacy and Vulnerability In A Different Form

Request: Can I please request for some angst with Shigaraki, Hawks and Dabi. Their S/O acts like she enjoy choking but she feels like it’s what she deserve (basically triggering some suicidal/depressive thoughts) so they’ve always thought she liked it until one particularly rough session she started breaking down and begging them to kill her and they found out about her depression. Sorry if this is against the rules, I’m not sure what you don’t write for. But kinda need this in my life rn. Angst+Fluff and aftercare please!!!

Warning: self-harm mentions, suicidal thoughts

A/N: I hope you like it!! Take care of yourself and remember to do the best that you can to take care of yourself and if you can, take your meds!!

Dabi:

His hands are heavy around your neck, a pressure that makes it harder to breathe and even harder to think anything coherent. His lips are bitter, the taste of alcohol lingering on his tongue and his smile presses itself against you in soft kisses. Dabi hovers above you, and as pleasurable as this all should be- the attention that he gives to you and the words that usually makes your body tremble- it’s only making you sick. The pressure tightens and all that can flash through your mind is the horrible mistakes of your past, every wound left open and salt poured on it as his words reach your ears. You aren’t sure what makes this night different compared to the others but your own hands are placed above his, your eyes squeezed tight as you press your hands down on his.

At first, he thinks nothing of it, believing it to just be you simply telling him that you want more pressure but as you continue, your face burns. Tears tracing down and marking you, your moans jumbled out and sounding so pitiful that he stops immediately. Your lips move, words slurred and are told out of order and he knows that something is wrong. You mumble something about wanting to die, and he pulls his hand away from your neck and your own hands that replace where his hand used to be. Your hands curl around your neck, scratching and pulling taut at your skin and you’re left sobbing as he stares down at you. His hands are soft, curving around your wrist and holding them together, watching as you rest against his bare chest, your tears slipping down his skin and burning against his scars.

He isn’t sure what to do. He’s unable to figure out if he should outright ask you what’s wrong but between your sobs and mess of words, he figures that that isn’t wise. The only thing that he can do is hold you close, let his hands rise in heat and rub them against your back, hoping that the motion will soothe you. He has you against him, crying and he knows- or at least has gathered enough information- to decide that you do indeed want to die. You lay against him, crying and letting your emotions get the best of you and he is unable to do what he should do, but yet, he stares at you, looking around the room hoping that the answer will be written on the walls. But, it's just him and you and a wall with chipping paint. There’s no answer to this and he isn’t good at playing therapist, and the most he can offer is a simple question of “are you okay?” even if it’s obvious that you aren’t.

While he isn’t good at sorting things out and giving advice, he is good at listening, taking things to heart and paying attention to the small details. He listens to you talk about how you have your own bad habits- you hand threads with his when you say that- and that sometimes you wish that something or someone would end your life so you didn’t have to do the dirty work. He knows enough about that to nod his head and hold your hand tighter. Your lips brush over the swell in his chest and you rest on his lap, your body shaking with the aftershocks of your sobbing, and your face still wet with tears. He listens well when you talk, nodding his head and squeezing your hand to show that he is still listening to you and his lips press against your head.

The last thing that Dabi wants is to hurt you. He doesn’t want you to see him as something that can only bring pain and destruction; he wants you to view him as a person. He tells you in a whisper that anything rough is out of the question, he doesn't want this to happen again. He tells you that he’ll be with you because he wants to be and that you two can still remain intimate but he won’t hurt you, he doesn’t want to be the reason that you cry. His hands are gentle as they move you away from him, his hand holding your jaw and his eyes linger to when a tear touches his thumb. He kisses the tip of your nose, his smile lazy and he offers a shower- just something to get rid of all the tears and sweat. It isn’t a permanent solution, but it’s the best that he can offer and he’ll stay true to his word, not wanting to go against our trust and safety. There’ll be another conversation about your mental health, but only when you’re more coherent and less in a negative state.

Shigaraki Tomura:

It’s already a dangerous situation to place yourself in with Tomura- his hands around your neck, his focus already diverting to pleasure rather than focusing on you. It’s times like these that he regrets not remembering where he placed the half gloves. His entire being is centered around death, his hands clawed and already so close to closing, the air becoming thin and harder to catch and you’re left with burning tears in your eyes. Your lips meet his in a desperate kiss, straining your neck and making his hands close tighter around your neck. A part of you wants for it to hurt more, for his hands to close around your neck and squeeze until your lips are cold and he’s over your body. You call out in a croaky voice for him to tighten his grip, placing your hands over his and begging for his to close his fist. It’s getting harder to breathe and your vision is dotted in black, tears fall and catch on his hands and your moans have turned to cries. His hand loosens around your neck, his movements stopped and he carefully removes his hand away from you.

The air is tense in the room. Your cries echoing around and he stares down at your body as it closes around itself, your arms hugging your crying form. He carefully crawls beside you, clenching his teeth when the bed creaks under him, his body careful to not touch yours. Beside you, he sits, his back propped by pillows and his lips bitten as he calls your name. He isn’t sure what he’s hoping for in a response- he knows that the answer he wants is unrealistic given your state and he isn’t sure whether he can touch you or if that would lead you to spiral down. His hands catch at a piece of your hair, rubbing the ends between his thumb and index finger. He calls you once more, nudging his leg against your body, hoping that you’ll at least give him a sort of reply.

You give an odd sort of sound- something stuck between a cry and a hiccup- but he takes it. He leans over you, brushing away the stray hair and tears, grabbing at a shirt and cleaning your face with it. You hold his hands with yours, your palm over the back of his hand, the cloth pressed against your face, the warmth of his palms warming at your cheeks. He turns over to lie beside you, his chest against your back and his lips pressed over a bruising spot on your neck. You both lay in silence for a long moment, his hands sliding down until they curve around your stomach, his nose pressed against the back of your head as your cries turn into whimpers. He whispers words of comfort- telling you that it’s okay, that he’s stopped, and letting you just cry as his hands circle around your abdomen.

He asks you what happened, his lips pressed against your neck, his hands still and his words are solemn. He doesn’t know what set it off and he isn’t aware of what he should say and a part of him thinks that it’s his fault. He asks if it was his fault- that maybe he triggered something or something else that he doesn’t know what happened. Your confession about your state of mind makes his body go pale, a shiver running down his spine and his hands curl around your stomach. You make it a point of telling him it wasn't his fault- he hadn’t known, it was something that you kept as a secret. Your hands hold his, your face dry with tear stains still lingering against your face. After the sudden outburst, your tone grows drowsy, eyelids heavy and breaths deeper. He can sense that you’re growing tired, that the outburst took a lot of energy and he moves to grab at a blanket, letting it rest against your waist until you’re ready to move it closer to your body.

During the entirety of your relationship, Tomura has always put your wellbeing as a priority; he wants to know that you’re safe and healthy and when you confess about your issues, about how your mind works against you, he asks you to turn around. He holds you close, allowing you the option to look at him or hide your face, and he speaks slowly. He isn’t going to be the one that brings out painful memories, he’s going to be here for you. Perhaps, he won’t be the best at it, but he’ll do what he can, he’ll offer to listen and to talk, he’ll offer you snacks and hold you when you need to be held. He’ll try and that’s the best he can offer. For now, you’ll rest against him, your body covered by a blanket as he keeps you close, letting his arms wrap tight around you.

Takami Keigo:

A caring lover, Keigo takes great pride in giving in to your needs, wanting you to feel heard and seen during acts of intimacy. If you want his hands around your neck, then he’s willing to do it for you. His face will be pinched, a string of curses hissed under his breath as his hand tightens around your neck. You’re under him, a cloud of negative thoughts forming into a storm, your stomach twisting and churning with every move, your eyes closed tightly and yet, the pressure against your chest isn’t enough, the way that he has his hand wrapped around your throat simply isn’t enough.

It’s a simple bad day turned worse with sex. Despite the act of intimacy and the enjoyment that you derive from it, your thoughts scream loud, drowning out anything and you’re simply just tired. You beg him with a choking voice to tighten his grasp and he does, pressing his forehead against yours for a moment, pulling away with a crooked grin. He doesn't realize what you want- that it isn’t tight enough for you, that you’re pleading for more and that you want him to close the gap until you’re heaving and gasping for air. You beg for it to be tighter and the most that he offers is a squeeze around your throat before he loosens. His hand pulls away as you start to cry, his face falling into a frown as your words are slurred between each cry, your hands covering your face, taking deep breaths with a bitterness that lingers on your tongue.

He ground you, grabbing your hands and lifting you up, his wings pushed back in an attempt to make you feel less crowded. You’re crying, your body trembling and chest shaking with every breath, as he tries to calm you down, asking you to mimic his breaths and tell him the colors on the bed sheet. He’s desperate, fear thick on his words and his hands wanting to hold you but he refrains. His voice is steady as can be, hesitation on the end of his words but nothing like yours that trembles and breaks with every sentence. He’s a hero, he knows what to do, how to calm those who are almost seen as being uncontrollable. He gets your breathing back to normal, holds your knees and has you play with his hand, the lines and calluses traced and touched under your jittery hand.. He lets you catch your breath, your body shaking and tears slowing down into heavy drops.

You open your arms, hands curling close in an attempt to ask him to come closer. He follows, wrapping his arms around you, and bringing you close to him. Careful as ever, he makes sure his wings are extended, careful to not wrap them around you nor him, wanting you to have as much space to breathe. Your hands roam around back, clinging to his shoulder blades, the tips of his feathers teased with your fingertips. His voice is calm, letting you start the conversation or choosing to save it for later and focusing on you right now. You move him and he is putty in your hands, molding into whatever you need him to be, leaning against the headboard and holding you close, feathers twitching restlessly as you lean on his chest. His hands circle back around you, his chin on the top of your head as you start to speak. He lets you take your time when your voice starts to crack, his presence nothing but soothing.

It’s difficult to listen to you talk so negatively about yourself and to know that the rougher stuff introduced during acts of intimacy were more of a punishment rather than something for pleasure. Keigo is patient in listening to you, holding you close to him and kissing your knuckles as you talk and go further in detail. He won’t push you to do things that are outside of your comfort zone and would prefer for you to take your own pace and come into realizations for yourself. He’s your partner and he’ll help you as much as he can, but he isn’t good at taking care of himself and can often find him going further than what’s good for you. He talks to you and runs his hand down your spine, moving around until you’re side by side, his smile almost pained. It’s a minute before he rises, holding you close to him and leading you to the bathroom, turning the water on and letting you stand under it, his hands covered in white fluff as suds cover your body, his body close to yours.

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ickle-ronniekins · 4 years

Text

embrasse moi

request: from nonnie! “please can you do a super competitive fred and reader story and idk do with that what u will I trust your judgement”

pairing: fred x french!slytherin!reader

word count: 1.7k

A/N: i am ~feelin~ this request rn. i know quidditch wasn’t a thing during the triwizard tournament when faux moody was teaching just humor me. didn’t realize how much i need a french speaking fred until i wrote this 😩 also i definitely do not speak french and i've used google translate so i apologize in advance if any phrases are wrong LOL. i'll put the what the translations are supposed to be underneath the paragraphs they appear in and @ the bottom with an asterisk *

warning(s): a curse word (oops sry); ~steam~

tag list: @mintlibri @seppys-return-to-madness @how-do-life-does @fopdoodledane @fredd-weasley @iprobablyshipit91 @semmelsemi @laneygthememequeen @snakesonaplane-7 @keoghans @helloallthethingsilove @dreamer821 @the-hufflepuff-of-221b @62442-am @wtfweasleyy @obsessedwithrandomthings @thoseofgreatambition @harrysweasleys @sleep-i-ness @shadowsinger11 @shadychaoticcollection @haphazardhufflepuff @afriendlyneighborhoodhufflepuff @hood-and-horan @letsfightsomeorcs @theweasleysredhair @purpleskiesstorm @hxfflxpxffs @wand3ringr0s3 @finecole @angelinathebook @highly-acidic @purplefragile @90shermione @zreads @susceptible-but-siriusexual @hollands-weasley @andromedaa-tonks @bbystrawberry0421 @princessof-theuniverse @cappsikle @mytreec @imseeinggred @idont-knowrn @flyingserpxnt @auroraboringalis57 @godricsswords @jejegu @annasofiaearlobe @starlightweasley @alwaysasadaesthetic @thisismysketchbook | message me to be added, loves!

“Slytherin wins!”

Fred watched as you threw your beater’s bat into the air while you did backflips on your broomstick in front of all of your teammates. He huffed dramatically; he normally didn’t fancy losing a match to Slytherin, but you showing off was just rubbing salt into the wound.

“Don’t think on it, mate,” George told his twin. He looked absolutely bloody exhausted. Ever since Slytherin had replaced their beaters who had graduated the year before, their team was unstoppable. You sort of stunned the entire school when you arrived at tryouts and crushed it, making the students question why in the bloody hell you hadn’t ever tried out for Quidditch in the first place.

As the Gryffindor team walked sluggishly back toward the changing rooms, the vile Slytherin team captain did not hold back from overly-complimenting his team, therefore firing shots in the Gryffindors’ direction.

“Never seen a more brilliant beater before,”

Fred rolled his eyes noticeably. As your teammates patted you on the back, Fred just scoffed loudly, hoping to grab your attention. When he saw that he had, he turned to George and Harry and said, “She wasn’t that brilliant.” George just shut his eyes and shook his head, sick of Fred’s constant complaining.

“Aw -- vous vous sentez mal, Fred? Ne sois pas si mauvais perdant.”

↳ “Are you feeling bad, Fred? Don’t be such a sore loser.”

You earned yourself another eye roll for that one.

“Speak bloody English, would you woman?” he said angrily.

You pursed your lips dramatically in his direction. If he hadn’t been so pissed off, he would’ve noticed how his heart rate had seemed to increase at the fluttering of your eyelashes as you winked at him. Except he’d always been too focused trying to one-up you to notice such things. “Better luck next time, Weasley.”

It wasn’t just Quidditch. It was everything. Charms, incantations, exploding snap games, hexes -- even things Fred absolutely loathed doing, like stupid readings in Divination. It had all started back in your first year, when you were able to kick off the ground first in your flying lesson; you were a Muggleborn and had no idea how to fly. This annoyed Fred to no end, because he’d been flying since he could walk! And ever since, you two fell into this intense competitive streak, not giving into one another. George sure was over it though. Had been for a long time.

He gently tugged on Fred’s robes to lead him back toward the Gryffindor changing rooms, but it was a lost cause. Fred was already ripping off his uniforms due to pure anguish. George sucked in a deep breath before leaving his brother on the pitch. “Bloody hell, here we go again.”

-- -

The next day, Fred was struggling to get through classes due to his lack of sleep from the night prior, and it didn’t help when he was partnered up with you in Defense Against the Dark Arts in Moody’s attempt to separate him and George. Begrudgingly, his feet carried him over toward your desk where you stood, arms crossed and smirk bright. George on the other hand looked particularly jovial to be very far away from the two of you.

“Professor?”

Moody growled. “Not now, Weasley. Time to practice nonverbal hexes with your partner. No complaints.”

Fred huffed a bit and turned toward you. You cocked your head to the side, “What’s the matter? Scared you won’t be able to out hex me?” You narrowed your eyes at him and deepened your grin.

Fred scoffed. “I can out hex you in my sleep.”

You rolled your eyes and muttered under your breath, “Pauvre, gentil garçon. Tellement naïf.”

↳ “Poor, sweet boy. So naive.”

He didn’t even bloody care what you’d said, he was just so ready for this lesson to be over. He positioned himself a few feet away from you and stood in a rather dramatic, annoyed stance, waiting for you to just do your worst, already.

Your eyes seemed to darken with concentration. Fred was hoping that the slight smirk he painted on his face would be enough to distract you, but he was unfortunately proven wrong. Suddenly his knees were reversed and he began to falter on his own two feet. You and a few others surrounding you both, including his own twin, fell into laughter.

“Walk much, Weasley?”

His eyes turned to slits as he reversed the hex back, ignoring the crimson colour flooding his cheeks and the laughs still bouncing around the room. You still wiggled your eyebrows at him as he took his own position, pointing his wand toward you. He really needed to bloody concentrate, but the sing-song sound of your voice as you rattled off phrases in your native tongue sent him spiraling. He focused his thoughts solely on the one word: Titillando. He might’ve been distracted, but still managed to hex you.

Your laughter grew due to the tickling that took you over. You fell to your knees and giggled like a little school girl, grabbing at your arms and legs and back as the tickling sensation only heightened. Fred waltzed over to you, confidence exuding him, and lifted his eyebrows at you. He grinned evilly. “Got you.”

Somehow he found himself centimeters from you. He slowly lifted his wand and reversed the hex, and you were now completely out of breath, staring up at him with beady eyes. He took your hand in a tight grip and pulled you to your feet. He could feel your breath on his neck. “Sanglant brillant,” you managed to say in a breathless whisper.

↳ “Bloody brilliant.”

He certainly didn’t need you to translate that one. He wiggled his eyebrows at you and breathed, “Glad you think so.”

Shit. You didn’t realize you’d said it aloud, and you hadn’t managed to realize how close he was to you. You pushed on his chest and walked out of his way, fixing your tie and cardigan before sighing deeply to rid yourself of your flustered feelings. You cleared your throat and said, “Again.”

Cheekiness overtook his expression. “Looking for me to out jinx you again, are we?”

“Just do it, Fred.”

“Why can’t you just finally admit that I’m better than you? Put this whole thing to rest --?”

You cut him off. “Tu n'es pas! You stupid boy --” you wandered toward the entrance of the classroom; you needed some air, he was driving you up a wall. You stepped into the empty corridor. “Don’t let this foolishness go to your head. I’ve always been better, I always will be better.”

↳ “You are not!”

Fred laughed. “You’re out of your mind, what on earth --”

“It’s obvious!” you cried, throwing your arms up into the air. You inched forward toward him, and you were able to see the veins in his neck protruding just a bit; you were clearly getting to him. The tips of his ears were bright underneath that red hair of his. “Just admit it to me, Weasley. You can’t handle a girl being better at you -- better at hexes, better at lessons, better at Quidditch. Better at everything.” You stood on the tips of your toes in an attempt copy his stance. “And it’s driving you bloody mad, isn’t it?”

Fred sucked in a very deep breath and clenched his jaw tightly to suppress his anger.

Still, you prodded. “Isn’t it?”

Fred just wanted you to shut up already. So in a moment of fury, he growled and immediately pushed you against the wall and pressed his lips to yours in an attempt to silence you. He felt your shock against him as he parted your lips with his tongue, willing himself to not be distracted by the faint taste of your cherry lip balm. When he was sure you’d be silent, he slowly pulled away from you and let the shock roam through him too.

There was fire in your eyes. You blinked slowly a few times and eyed him up and down, as if trying to make sense of your own thoughts. Fred was sure you were about to deck him for being a right git until you lifted your hand and yanked on his tie and whispered, “Encore. Embrasse moi encore.”

↳ “Again. Kiss me again.”

He didn’t need a translator for that, either. He watched you lick your lips before he pressed himself into you again. You both met one another’s hunger with an intensity you couldn’t quite understand, but Fred reckoned this was probably the underlying reason for all of the competition between you two. How could he have possibly missed it all these years?

The idea of heading back inside the classroom for the lesson completely slipped from his mind when you grabbed two fistfuls of his hair in your hands and pressed your chest hard into his. By the muffled sigh you emitted against his mouth, he was sure he was driving you mad, and he was hellbent on getting you to be the first one to break with a moan.

But a low, unamused grunt ripped you apart from one another -- Fred was shocked that something had managed to break the ferocity between you both. You bit down on your bottom lip as you both turned to be face to face with a very disturbed and annoyed looking Mad-Eye, and George cracking up right behind him. You quickly swatted Fred’s hand away from your exposed hipbones, but he was pretty sure Moody had noticed anyway.

“Back inside,” your professor growled simply to both of you. In a lower voice, Mad-Eye continued, “I’ve got to be barking mad -- I did not sign up for this..” George winked at his brother and mouthed something that slightly resembled a Knew it, I bloody knew it, before making his way back into the classroom.

Fred turned back toward you and glanced down at your red and swollen lips. “Ready for me to out hex you again?” he asked with a glint of cheekiness in his voice.

“In your dreams, Fred,” you replied, narrowing your eyes and swatting him across the chest in your usual irritated tone. He was about to drag you back into the classroom but you yanked on his tie once more. The sultriness in your voice that dripped from your mouth made him not want to focus on the lesson at all; he’d rather think about many, many other things instead. “First -- embrasse moi, you prat.”

↳ “Kiss me,”

“Mmm,” he replied hungrily, licking his own lips in anticipation of getting you alone later. But he could get you riled once more, right? In more ways than one? He absolutely adored the completely startled and impressed look in your eye when he replied to you in French, “Bien sûr mon amour.”

↳ “Of course, my love.”

* vous vous sentez mal, Fred? Ne sois pas si mauvais perdant. - Are you feeling bad, Fred? Don’t be such a sore loser.

* Pauvre, gentil garçon. Tellement naïf - Poor, sweet boy. So naive.

* Sanglant brillant. - Bloody brilliant.

* Tu n'es pas! - You are not!

* Encore. Embrasse moi encore. - Again. Kiss me again.

* Bien sûr mon amour. - Of course, my love.

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thelittlebirdthattoldyou · 4 years

Text

how iwaoi refer to each other

my brain is dead and if i try to write fic rn i just know it won’t be coherent so have these dumb headcanons instead.

what iwaizumi calls oikawa

oikawa

when they're in front of other people, he just calls oiks by his last name

iwa isn't huge on pda (though he puts up with it from oikawa because he's sOFT for him) so he doesn't feel the need to stake a claim on oikawa in public with cutesy nicknames or whatever

he's not gonna admit it but he already knows oikawa belongs to him & vice versa so,, what's the point?

also he doesn't need to be mocked by hanamaki or matsukawa for being a sap, thanks.

shittykawa/trashykawa/crappykawa/loserkawa/assikawa/dumbass...yeah

ok i feel like iwaizumi doesn't use these insults super often, especially when they get older and more settled in their relationship

it mostly happens when he gets mad that oiks is being negative or self-deprecating or overworking himself again

sometimes he uses them teasingly when oikawa's being a brat on purpose, but he always sounds so affectionate that oikawa can't even bring himself to be offended

doesn't really use them in front of other people just because he'll fight anyone who dares to laugh when he says them. he's the only one who can insult oiks and get away with it!!

tooru

saved for intimate domestic moments, when it's just the two of them

oikawa LOVES it when they're staying home and cooking breakfast or something and iwaizumi calls him tooru without thinking twice about it (”tooru, can you pass me the salt?” or “hey, tooru, wanna go see that new movie that’s in theaters today?”)

he just says it so casually but it feels so right and oikawa melts every time

iwa loves saying it because it sounds so sweet and full on his tongue, and he thinks it suits oikawa so well

((iwaizumi loves oikawa, but he has to share him with the rest of the world. he loves that he gets tooru all to himself.))

babe/baby

similar deal. i like to think that iwa alternates between this & tooru.

happens more often when iwa isn’t fully awake

iwa likes to wrap his arms around oikawa and bury his face into his neck and mumble “g’morning, baby” with his voice still hoarse from sleep

oikawa literally can’t handle it. he combusts. it’s his favorite part of the day even though he refuses to admit it

once it slipped out in the middle of practice (iwa may have been distracted by oikawa’s smile after landing a perfect jump-serve, shut up) and matsuhana would not let it go for DAYS.

every time they saw oikawa they would be like “hey captain - oh wait, i mean babe” until iwa threatened to hurt them if they didn’t stop

pretty boy

shhhhhh let me have this

the first time it happened was on accident because iwa was just trying to make fun of oikawa

he wasn’t expecting oiks to go bright red and speechless when he said it, but it was SO funny

now he says it to tease oikawa whenever he needs to be taken down a peg. he’ll never get tired of seeing his usually polished, in-control boyfriend become a flushed, stuttering mess

oiks has no idea why it has such a big effect on him?? he knows he’s attractive & he hears it all the time from his admirers, but it’s so different to hear iwa-chan, of all people, calling him pretty.

what oikawa calls iwaizumi

iwa-chan

i couldn’t think of as many things for oiks to call iwa because iwa-chan basically covers it all??

no one else is allowed to call iwaizumi “iwa-chan,” just like no one else is allowed to call oikawa “shittykawa.”

tbh iwaizumi isn’t even sure oikawa remembers what his actual last name is at this point

whenever he hears it, iwaizumi is reminded of humid august nights catching fireflies & failed volleyball tosses in the park & sharing futons until they grew too big to fit.

it makes him think of their childhood, of growing up together, of each being the other’s first love, first everything.

they learned to love together & oikawa has changed so much, but at the same time he hasn’t, and when iwaizumi lets himself think about it he gets emotional

so he usually doesn’t think about it and just lobs a ball at oikawa’s head and tells him to shut up LMAO

hajime

oikawa probably uses iwa’s first name less often than iwa uses his

not because he doesn’t want to or because he’s uncomfortable with it, he just thinks it’s special (iwa-chan never let me call him by his first name when we were kids!) and he wants to make it special whenever he says it

iwa makes fun of him for being sentimental, but he adores the thought oiks puts into it, and he falls HARD whenever oikawa does say it.

again, it usually happens in private

oikawa will whisper it into the space between their bodies when they’re curled up together, ready for bed

he’ll say it like a prayer, hushed and reverential, because he can’t believe iwaizumi has stayed by his side, has chosen him and chosen him over and over again, all this time.

and then iwa kisses him, as if to say of course, you idiot, i’ll always choose you, and oikawa murmurs hajime, hajime, hajime into the kiss.

oh also he knows how much iwa likes when he says it & he’ll definitely use that to his advantage when he wants attention

manga spoilers under the cut!

mi cariño/mi corazón/mi amor/etc.

listen, oikawa speaking spanish to iwaizumi makes me hyperventilate

as soon as this boy knew he was moving to argentina, he went and looked up all the spanish pet names he could because he wanted to fluster iwa as much as iwa flustered him

for a solid month he was walking around san juan not knowing how to ask for directions when he got lost, but at least he knew how to say “you’re the light of my life and i love you.”

he’s also 10000000x flirtier in spanish than he is in japanese which was a surprise to everyone, including iwa, because no one really thought he could get any worse.

iwa has no idea what oiks is saying half the time, but he likes the way he says it

oiks, on the other hand, is glad iwa can’t understand him because it gives him an excuse to say as much sappy shit as he wants

picture him,, like,, kissing iwa's hand and putting it over his heart and calling him mi corazón

some linguistic liberties taken <//3 i don't speak japanese

k i'm gonna go cry over them for the next hour or two so that's all for now ♡♡

#iwaoi #iwaizumi hajime x oikawa tooru #iwaoi headcanon #haikyuu!!#oikawa tooru #iwaizumi hajime #iwaizumi x oikawa #haikyuu headcanons #iwaoi fluff #hq headcanons #haikyuu character x character #haikyuu ships

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companionship · 3 years

Text

okay one big post to get the finale out of my system! it's been lovely reading all of your analyses and reactions, and looking at all your amazing gifs and edits :')

fair warning: this is going to be so stinking long omfg

the things i enjoyed:

vincenzo remaining an anti-hero through and through, especially the fact that he didn't hold back at all when it came to myunghee and hanseok's death. he gave them a taste of their own medicine and then some forreal, their deaths were brutal but oddly satisfying, and i'm saying this as someone who usually hates violence/gore. throughout the show, they've always hinted at what he was Truly Capable Of and boy did we get to see it

vincenzo fumbling in hanseok's house and not being his usual self – a lot of people thought it was ooc, which i understand! i felt like that was the Point, to show that for once, he's not the invincible mafia consigliere that everyone thinks he is. what he did to the man who killed his mother and the army of security guards was a reaction, but this is the first time he's flustered, caught at a disadvantage, and faced with the very real possibility that he might lose somebody incredibly important to him. idk it made him more human to me

vincenzo literally not hesitating for even 0.1 seconds to fold his entire body around hers when he thought hanseok was going to shoot again – yeah that whole bit made my heart clench i feel like a crazy person i won't get over it

the chayenzo hospital scene... my god it was so tender my heart broke. the laugh they both shared, out of sheer relief that she's okay. the little joke about paying for the private room. the way not much was being said, but everything was being said at once. the way they looked at each other, as if it wouldnt ever be enough :( the quiet acceptance that this is their last night together, and that he's going to have to kill a bunch of people after this, but for now they have this. for however brief.

chayoung being chayoung – her big ass personality at the courtroom at the end after winning ms oh's case. her hopping around in those heels, looking elegant and sleek, mocking the hell out of rich conglomorates. she's in her element again and it made me so, so happy to see. i absolutely adore her, she's everything really. after all that loss and the whole ordeal, i'm glad she's able to return to what she does best: putting capitalists back in their place

mr lee being Very Much Not Dead – idk how i wouldve been able to handle it after witnessing hanseo's death like im glad he got the chance to be a dad

the kiss – my god....

the things i didn't like:

hanseo's death – lmao is it even a surprise... say what you will about his death being foreshadowed, but i really just hated hated it. i hate that hanseok won this one. i hate that hanseo worked so hard to redeem himself, only to lose it all. i hate that he was given a taste of what a real family was like, and then having it taken away so cruelly. even though i said above that i didn't mind that vincenzo was ooc at the mansion, i was still screaming at the screen because there were plenty of opportunities for the situation to be reversed. i don't necessarily blame vincenzo for hanseo's death, but i do wish that they had a funeral scene for him. i wish they acknowledged his sacrifice, and how pivotal he was in turning the tables. if not for hanseo, vincenzo really couldn't have pulled any of this off, from the interpol tipoff to the tracking device in the watch. idc idc hanseo is in malta rn, enjoying the sun and the beach, going to therapy, and teaching the local kids how to play hockey even though there's no ice :(

chayoung being bedridden the whole finale – like... NAH lmao this aint it chief... if things went my way, she wouldve gotten out of the hospital depite her injury and dealt with myunghee before handing her off to vincenzo. i loved their animosity for each other, and i wanted chayoung to be the one at myunghee's apartment waiting for her, rubbing it into her face. i wanted chayoung to verbally finish myunghee with that sharp ass tongue of hers and really dump a load of salt on her wounds. then vincenzo could do whatever the hell he wanted. you could argue that the show is called Vincenzo but i really dont care lmao it started with chayoung avenging her dad and she should've been able to strike the final blow. also what was her big second party? are we really just going to ignore her capacity for evil? after all that moral work done, after that time she spent coming to terms with using evil to combat evil, we're just going to... keep her bedridden? park jaebum u will pay for this

vincenzo losing his family – besides hanseo's death, i think this was what i hated the most from the ending. the start of the show showed us vincenzo's departure from the mafia with the very clear intention of Not Returning. the capo died, his loyalties lie with no one, paolo can suck it. throughout the show, we see him repeat over and over that he wants to get the gold and skip off to malta to enjoy a peaceful life there, while reflecting/repenting for the things he's done. vincenzo was gearing up for a lifetime of solitude. the whole point of the show was for him to find a real family and have a real chance at happiness. park jaebum really said FUCK THAT! we're gonna have him ditch the family that he built from scratch with the love of his life and then make him return to the family that tried to kill him AND make him the capo... pjb said we're gonna separate vincenzo from the family that accepts his past and sees it as a strength and not a weakness. the family that was formed out of solidarity, the family that he fought for and fought alongside with blood, sweat and tears. not to mention the goddaughter of his? sorry i would laugh if it didn't actually rile me up so bad

vincenzo not being able to come back to korea – i've said this in another post of mine, but given that he is The Vincenzo Cassano with all those resources at his disposal (guillotine file, mr ahn/mr cho/the chief etc.), the fact that he isnt even able to stay in korea for 30 fuckin minutes after finishing hanseok was ridiculous. the whole police chase was dumb as hell considering that the show has managed to stop politicians and mf presidential candidates from going after him like ? huh LMAO park jaebum had an on-demand pigeon army in this show and Yet he can't stop like 10 suddenly-righteous policemen. another big ass HUH

chayenzo (here we go...):

NOPE! i've reflected on the ending and decided that i'm going to be petty and salty for a while more before coming to terms with it

i can rationalise and try to be positive and tell myself that their love is enduring can transcend space and time and that in due time, they will find their way back to each other, and i have no doubt that they will because they're one soul in two bodies. it's quite literally canon that they're soulmates.

but let me wallow for a second

here we have two people who have done questionable and terrible things in their past coming together, growing together, grieving together, fighting together... you get the gist of it. you have two people who have found a home in each other. two people who, for all intents and purposes, were about to live in a whole lot of bitterness and solitude if not for each other and the life they built together (chayoung didn't have friends like that, and her family is gone too). to separate them like that at the very end is cruel. i know chayoung and vincenzo are mature and incredible and will be able to function without the other next to them. i know that they will still excel as lawyers and will defeat evil with their underhand methods the way they do so well but my god are they going to feel the absence and miss each other

my point is that they shouldn't have to. from what i could tell, they can't even communicate on a regular basis bc he'll be tracked and whatnot, hence the postcards. a postcard every month is a poor substitute for all those nights they stayed up drinking makgeolli and celebrating their wins. its a shitty replacement for coffee dates and fist bumps and all the moments in between. after everything they've been through, after literally fighting to death for their family, they don't deserve this. they don't deserve to meet up once a year for a couple of hours. they don't deserve pockets of time in malta or korea, their life in a perpetual countdown to when they're going to see each other next

they both deserve love and some semblance of peace (finally finally). they both deserve to have someone to come home to after a hard day of work, because doing what they do cannot be easy. they both deserve a family, deserve to have someone next to them that accepts their past and would embrace their future. they both deserve a hand to hold and a shoulder to lean on. i know they will still be It for each other despite the distance, i just wish the distance didn't even exist in the first place bc its stupid and cruel and their love shouldnt have to be proven or tested with time and space. let them stay together. let them grow together. let them be.

side note: song joongki and jeon yeobeen need another project together idc take it up with god

tl;dr: park jaebum u will be paying for my therapy bills

#vincenzo #tvn vincenzo #this was cathartic #if u made it to the end here's ur kiss #this is more for archival purposes than anything #also this is what happens when my best friends arent caught up yet and i have no outlet

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