#because I''m a crier | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

alaskan-wallflower · 7 months ago

Text

lol crying headcanons??

Ponyboy Curtis

He is a quiet crier

Like he just sits with his mouth slightly open and his eyes shut for a moment before he just lets out the quietest, most pitiful sob you’ve ever heard

He’s very sniffly and gaspy when he cries

I feel like he’s the type to apologize for crying because he has a toxic mindset when it comes to emotions

“I’m sorry, I *gasp* don’t know wh- *gasp* what happened, I…”

He can’t even finish his thoughts

He kinda likes to be held when he cries. He never openly admits it but the gang knows he just likes to be hugged so he can bury his face in someone’s shoulder

NEVER cries in public. Ever.

He waits until he gets home and locks himself in his room

Sodapop gets to him the fastest in terms of calming down. Darry is still learning but he’s Pony’s second best bet

He always cries after a nightmare. Every single time.

Soda wakes up almost every night to Pony’s face buried in his chest while he just trembles and he feels his chest getting wet with tears and snot

He doesn’t mind at all

One time Pony actually went to Darry and nearly scared the shit out of him until Darry realized it was just Pony

Hes very hiccupy too when he cries

Sodapop Curtis

Oh my god, the loudest crier you’ll ever hear

He sounds like he’s being strangled when he cries (out of sadness or anger at least)

Hes a huge bawl baby. I’m sorry. Even as a baby he constantly screamed and cried.

When he’s genuinely sad he literally just dinks to his knees. He’s not even trying to be dramatic. It’s like everything is weighing on his so hard he can’t stand up

When he’s angry crying that’s when you know he’s on the verge of yelling. He only goes off on Pony and Darry one time and it was directly after the death of their parents because Pony said something downright nasty to Darry about how if it weren’t for his birthday their parents would be alive and Darry shoots back with if Pong used his head more maybe they wouldn’t have had to go back for it

And Soda just bursts into tears and blows up

“SHUT THE FUCK UP! BOTH OF YOU! YOU DONT FUCKING TALK LIKE THAT ON MY PARENTS NAMES! YOU DONT FUCKING DO THAT! THEIR DEATHS WERE NEITHER OF YOUR FAULTS SO DONT YOU DARE FUCKING SAY THAT! DONT SAY THEIR GODDAMN NAMES IF YOURE JUST GONNA USE THEM IN YOUR ARGUMENTS! DONT EVER SAY THEIR FUCKING NAMES AGAIN!”

Pony and Darry just go quiet because Soda is standing there trembling like a chihuahua, tears streaking down his cheeks, his blonde hair a mess and his cheeks red as he quietly gasps for air and hiccups between words

That was the only time he ever really fully angry cried

When he happy cries he’s a straight up delight

His cheeks get all rosy and he has this big smile and he just lets out a mic between a laugh and a sob as he gathers whoever made him happy enough to cry in a bone crushing hug

Hes genuinely a pretty crier (fuck him honestly like stop being pretty for two seconds god)

His cheeks get all red and his brown eyes get all glimmery. He’s straight out of a fucking soap opera I swear

Bro uses up all his fuel crying. Whatever emotion it is afterwards he’s always like “Darry I want food :/“

Darry Curtis

Darry like…never cries. Ever.

But honestly? When he does cry he’s having a full blown mental breakdown or something has to happen to make him cry

In the book, Pony kinda said his chest shook when he sobbed and I kinda see that happening

He tends to tremble a lot when he cries. His hands get all shaky. That’s usually the first indicator he’s working himself up.

Second indicator is that his legs start bouncing and he starts pacing like a caged animal

Then he just starts sobbing. And it’s rough.

Like in the book I feel like when Pony came back he just ended up holding Pony in a bear hug while he ugly cried into Pony’s shoulder

He’s kind of a mess when he’s crying

He tries to soothe himself but honestly it doesn’t really work. So Sodapop takes over for a bit.

Soda knows exactly what to do and post book, Pony starts helping more too

Soda is the one to ground Darry when he cries. He’ll hold Darry, rub his back, rub his neck, play with his hair, whatever

Pony is more vocal. He helps bring Darry back to reality because usually Darry’s crying bouts come from anxiety and things from the past that pop up and give him a hard time

Pony knows all the breathing exercises and tends to help Darry out a lot with regulating breathing

Darry honestly just needs alone time after he cries. He cries so hard sometimes he just needs to go to sleep after

When this happens, Soda and Pony will do little things around the house. They fold the laundry, wash the dishes, one time they even deep cleaned his truck

They also leave little notes of envouragment around where they know Darry will see it. That also helps calm him down.

maybe i’ll make a pt 2 lol

#the outsiders #ponyboy curtis #sodapop curtis #darry curtis

291 notes · View notes

forzaferraris · 1 year ago

Text

NOTHING MATTERS — op81

pairing: oscar piastri x fem! engineering intern! reader

summary: the best way to get over someone who broke your heart is to get under someone else and (unintentionally) break theirs. / inspired by nothing matters by the last dinner party, listen on spotify here !

style: primarily written with a single smau element at the end.

warnings: 18+, minors do not interact, smut, unprotected sex ((p in v) please wrap it before you tap it)), oral (m! receiving) finger sucking, sub/don undertones but nothing serious, i swear on my life oscar piastri is a grunt and groaner but simultaneously considerably vocal during sex (i will die on that rock), afab! reader, readers kinda uncaring about who she hurts because she’s hurt, reader is referred to as she/her, miscommunication trope, oscar piastri has been in love with reader since the beginning of the season and just assumed one-sided pining. authors refusal to write with capitals, you can pry them out of her cold dead hands.

faceclaim: sofia dirado, although feel free to imagine reader as anyone else.

word count: 4.1k +

YOU WERE NO STRANGER TO HEARTACHE.

you fear it followed you around more often than not, like a dark cloud that covered your entire existence in this bubble of heartbreak that nothing ever felt good to you, nothing was ever worth it. from your parents divorcing after years of suffering in a loveless marriage to every single relationship you’d ever been in never making past the first time you sleep together — you’ve genuinely felt about giving up on life, going so far as to consider a life as a celibate nun or maybe not, perhaps just the life of a girl who burns through multiple packs of AA batteries using her rose toy.

however, when you’d met levi, your first year of finally being allowed to leave the mclaren technology centre to shadow tom stalland during the 2023 f1 season. you genuinely thought this man had reshaped your entire perspective of love, he made love easy, made loving him feel less like a sport and more like a hobby you could never get sick of, being with hom felt like you’d been going through all the “firsts” all over again, like a cheesy romance movie monologue.

and yet, here you are, sat in your hotel room after the japan gp, suzuka has always been your favourite gp to watch and unfortunately for some reason, instead of standing in the mclaren garage doing your job, you’re sat clad in your team clothes (a stark contrast to the white bed linen) and sobbing over a text message paragraph explicitly telling you that levi has decided to break up with you after he fell in love with someone else during the summer break, someone who “rewired his brain chemistry in a ways you could never do.” you want to get angry, you wish you were an angry person, instead when you got angry you cried, when you got too happy or even just laughed too hard you cried, you were a crier.

your heart is heavy, as you scroll through the other woman’s posts, she’s gorgeous, and that’s where you begin your myriad of self deprecating comparisons of you to her. you doom scroll for what feels like forever until you spiral even further down the heartbreak rabbit hole, your attention drawn to the fact that levi had both unfollowed and removed you as a follower at some point between when he said goodnight and then broke up with you the next day. you watch as stories of their summer break spent together is shared and your jealousy sends you into a blind rage that you block the both of them; because ultimately you knew that he will hold her life he used to hold you — for levi was boring, a one trick pony you’re only just now coming to terms with.

your disheveled appearance and self imposed seclusion from the events of the day were not left unnoticed, you’d resigned yourself to just stand on the outskirts, occasionally moving to sit down and watch the screens as the friday practice begun, you’re uninterested, unmotivated and trying your dandiest to not cry, for the sole reason of simultaneously not wanting to draw unwanted attention to yourself and the fact that the mascara you’re bought at the duty free at the airport was most definitely not waterproof.

the good thing was that you’d be in japan for the rest of the weekend, the worse thing was you knew not s language lick of the language — sure you could probably call someone an idiot in japanese thanks to the sheer amount of one piece you’d watched eith levi during days he didn’t want to do anything you had planned or suggested; however, the single knowledge of know the word idiot in japanese will not get her very far. you’re almost too zoned out to notice the first free practice had finished, oscar’s team engineer tom standall dismisses you, tells you that whatever happened before you came to track is to be sorted out before it potentially jeopardises a race and without a word or argument against hai decision you shuffle out of the garage and into the paddock.

“name, hey wait — wait up” a voice you’ve only heard considerable muffled by a racing helmet and through large oversized noise cancelling team gear headphones when you got to play pretend engineer whenever it was during his practice laps and his qualifying laps, it sends a shiver up your spine, always has and you’re unknowing if it always will.

“oscar? hey! you did so good today, from what i say, p3 is so awesome how are you not more elated about that!” you’d found yourself smiling, wide across your face and sinking into the gentle rhythm of the conversation with oscar. the smile he returns is equally as wide as if his whole face were smiling, you want to punch him — the cuteness aggression playing devil on your shoulder.

“oh nah, i am actually it just hasn’t like kicked in gully yet, i’m waiting for the full body visceral reaction i’m about to have,” he pauses for a brief moment, hands itchy to fiddling with something snd find solitude in dragging one hand after the other through his tangled and sweaty hair. “like just, honestly, jesus christ and in japan of all places fuckin’ hell” he seems both simultaneously out of breath and ready to compete in a marathon.

had it not been a considerably formal setting you swore you can picture him jumping up and down on the spot whilst trying to contain all of his excitement, you allow him to be excited not wanting your own mood and misery to overshadow his complete and utter elation at his podium win. it’s the first time in the few days you’d been moping about that the smile you give off reaches your eyes and oscar’s always paying attention to these things, unbeknownst to you of course.

“your excitement is infectious, surely the team have planned something celebratory for you! you’ve gotta celebrate this i’m sure lando is!” you can’t help but practically beam, you’re mesmerised by the excitement the unashamed amount of happiness this boy is oozing and the bitter feeling in your stomach over it all is just barely going by unnoticed.

oscar shakes his head, overs a tiny shrugs and barely gets another word into the conversation you teo ate having before he’s whisked away by the team to be dragged off towards the podium, you watch as he shakes the bottle of champagne onto lando and max. any and all brief untouched moments of happiness are immediately replaced when your phones buzzes, a notification alert from your ring door bell and the video supplied of your now ex boyfriend grabbing whatever stuff he’d left at your apartment. the situation just breaks your heart even further than when with the whole of the mclaren team being called upon for s group shot with both the boys and their podium wins you ignore it and decided you’d had enough of it all.

the hotel’s quiet as you tap your keycard against the inside of your hand waiting for the elevator to come back down, the traffic from the track back to the designated hotel meant you’d wound up leaving just as all the other drivers had and whilst you weren’t in the mood to face anymore interactions you were lucky to bypass the small group of fans loitering in the hotel lobby. the elevator itself is slow, like most and the way your stomach drops at the incline is almost akin to how you felt when you’d first received that break up text at the start of the week.

if there was one thing you were thankful for, it was the fact the hotel had a bar just off the lobby, which is where you’d found yourself, skirt a little too short, shoes a little too high and too the perfect amount of booby that you won’t get in too much trouble but also attract someone willing to take away the ache in your chest for the night.

you’d been sat at the bar for just under an hour, occasionally chatting to some of the other patrons but mostly the bartender herself; the paper straw mushy and impossible to drink out of sits on a napkin as you sip on the glass uncaring or the lipstick mark on the rim or the smudging it does to your own lipstick — in fact you’re hoping something else smudges the lipstick further if the night doesn’t continue to progress as slowly as it is.

“can i get a beer, whatever you’ve got in the bottle and another one of what she’s drinking” there it is again, the chill on your spine and the heightened sense of the hand that brushes past your ear to give the bartender a bank card. every single nerve ending in your body is on fire when the stool beside you in moved and a body now begins to occupy it, perhaps you’re a bit drunk, you’d already had two of these and what if the different alcohol consumption laws you’re unsure how much alcohol is actually in the fruity little cocktail you’d ordered.

“oscar piastri, i thought i told you to go celebrate your podium with lando, why are you still at the hotel?” there is is, a tone you’d never thought you’d use with someone who wass essentially your bosses boss, which therefore makes him your boss, and yet here you are — sultry tone and lips loosened by the alcohol in your system, shamelessly flirting with him.

“well, you see, i’m more of a pub person than i am someone who prefers nightclubs and being touched and bumped into by random strangers, i fear that’s more of a lando thing than my own” oscar laughs, the way he’s relaxed and carefree shows signs he did however, get roped into pregaming with lando beforehand, the neck of the beer bottle sits between his index and middle fingers, a comfortable position one you're sure would feel weird if you so much as tried to mimic.

you fear you're done for when it comes to watching the way his throat bobs as he takes a swig of the larger, it's a japanese brand one you've never heard of nor tried and you can tell oscar hasn't by the way his nose scrunches at the taste, he still continues to drink it though. time seems to float by, growing continually more comfortable with one another to the point you'd sauntered away from the bar stools and are sat perhaps not even an inch apart in a booth in the corner.

"favourite race destination, so far?" "monaco. most definitely, melbournes a close second, but that's just because of a personal bias" "personal bias?" "yeah. . . you."

you'd never thought to combine the flavours of japanese beer and strawberry liqueur, and yet here you were, back-pressed and arched up against the wall beside a hotel room that not yours, the elevator ride was one stop too long to have it be that you'd gone back to your hotel room, hands, not your own, are roaming places never thought to be touched, the bluntness of their nails digging into the soft flesh of your thighs has your separating from the kiss to lean your head back and full indulge in the simple pleasures received in this moment. arousal builds when soft lips find the pulse point in your neck, your choice signature scent perfume the most aromatic in that area brings a subconscious reaction from oscar, the thigh between your legs juts up and you also convulse right then and there, your own hands ove from holding the back of his neck to drag through his soft, product-free hair, tugging on the last few strands that slip through your fingers.

the beep of the room door unlocking pulls you to your senses, and a hand tight around your waist drags you inside, you cling onto him in the worst way possible, you can see the smudges of lipstick on the corners of his mouth and god, does he look beautiful. you're unsure for a moment, even if the alcohol had loosened you up a little, you still didn't know how to react around oscar, he's looking at you in a way you can't describe, it makes your stomach flip and you're eager, thighs clenching to distribute the friction of your building arousal. you want his lips on yours again, there's zero space between you, you're simply sharing each other's breath.

his hand finds the back of your neck, tangled in your darkened locks and pulls you back in for a kis, is soft, he must moisturise your brain supplies before it fizzes out, the kiss is messy, all teeth, tongues and spit. you whimper into the kiss, knees buckling, your own hands are on a mission sliding under the hem of his shirt to perfectly feel the warmth that radiates off his skin against your cold hands, you can feel the exact moment your cold touch makes him hiss into the kiss and it finally ignites the fire in your stomach. this is what you want.

you two remain lip-locked until your chest hurts and you've traded the same breath back and forth that it's completely died, when you pull away, you finally take notice of the blown-out pupils staring down at you. his a look entirely of lust, desire, arousal and it shows, especially with the bulge in his pants. your bottom lip finds sanctuary in between your teeth when you raise an eyebrow and one of your hands slips out from under his shirt to palm him through the cargo shorts he'd donned to wear.

if oscar's voice sent a shiver down your spine, the way he groaned at your touch against his bulge chilled you from the inside out, the noise rough and gravelly like he'd not uttered a word in weeks, it's deep and low in his chest that you wouldn't have heard it if you weren't practically flush against him. your hand continues to palm him, making riskier moves as your other hand moves to dip your fingers into the waistband of his pants, you don't wait, you don't even need to ask for permission when his own hands are practically shucking off his own clothes for you.

he looks so gorgeous standing right in front of you, the wet patch you can only assume of precum on the front of his boxers has you licking your lips involuntarily, you try to ignore the voices, fight the urgers but you're but a simple girl, eager to please, that you're flicking your gaze up at him as your sink to your knees, the carpet is soft enough against you but you know better and are already seeing the red marks you'll have the next morning.

oscar looks confused for you in the briefest of moments, your nails dragging along his thighs, soft blonde hairs tickle your finger tips and you bite back the sweet giggle you want to let out as you're finally tugging his underwear down. a moment of shock halts your movement, eyes flicking up and down between oscar's gaze and his cock, tip pink, throbbing and leaking — it's a sight to be seen and you're the one who gets to gaze upon it.

your hand wraps around him, fingers barely meeting at the girth and you moan, can feel the saliva pooling in your mouth, your oral fixation working into overdrive, a single flick of your wrist has a louder groan rolling out of oscar's mouth, a quick "fuck" followed after it that as you once again clenching your thighs. your hand sets an easy rhythm, tried and true, one that allows for long strokes at a steady pace and your thumb to swipe between the slit on his tip that has his stomach clenching. his own hand grabs at your hair, both for something to hold onto and to keep it out of our face when you inch closer and allow your tongue to tease his tip with small kitten licks.

"fuck, fuck, name, fuck suck my cock"

the verbalised plea is all you need to finally wrap your lips around the swollen head, the saltiness of his precum mixing with your spit as you moan around him, your tongue swirls around his tip every time you pull back, only to resume bobbing your head and matching the movement of your hand to the pace you set as you take more of him in your mouth, your mouth feels so full and you can practically feel his dick pulse against your tongue when your other hand moves to squeeze his balls.

"holy shit — where did you learn that, fucking hell"

you smile when you pull away, uncaring of the drool that rolls down your chin, oscar seems not to mind either when he's pulling you back up to kiss him, your hand still stroking him slowly. he can taste his pre cum still on your tongue and as someone who'd assumed he wouldn't be fond of the idea, seems more or less enjoying it solely because it's coming from your mouth. his tongue overpowers your own and he's licking in your mouth with such severity that you can feel your own wetness pooling in your panties, had you been horny before you were now basically unbearably horny at this point.

your clothes feel bothersome, and your top and bra come off rather quick once your legs meet the edge of the bed you'd been pushed back against. the cool air of the hotel room meets your nipples and you gasp out once oscar's hot mouth chooses to settle on one and his hand favours the other. it's magic, that's what you can choose to blame it on, with the way oscar's fingers tug and twist one nipple all whilst his mouth and suck away on the other, your back arches up against him when his teeth graze the sensitive bud and you swear you could achieve your first orgasm of the night just from that alone.

his mouth switches to give the same treatment to the other nipple and yours that tug and pull on his hair only urge him on more, whining and desperate and what you want to happen is not happening. you need him, you crave him, you desire him.

"please oscar, fuck me"

there is it, the words oscar had been waiting to hear since you'd kissed him, and who would oscar be if not someone who listened when he was asked to do something. he sits up on his knees, jerks himself a couple of times as he watches you, skirt rugged up to your hips, a perfect picture, a sight for sore eyes, so beautiful, all for him to bare witness too. you back arches, your eager and needy and positively soaked you don't even need to touch yourself to know, your panties are finally pulled off and you hiss at the air that hits your center. you're clenching around nothing, sticky and sweet, eager, he looks up as your and you nods a final confirmation before you supply a weak "please" before his tip is aligning with your entrance and he's sliding in.

the stretch is everything to you, he is perfect, your hand stretching splayed out against the pillow as the tiniest whine falls from your lips, oscar grunts, face and chest flushed, you can hear exactly how we you are just from the squelch when he finally bottoms out and you moan loud enough that if anyone had been walking past the room they would have heard. oscar doesn't move, allowing for your pussy to stretch and get comfortable around him before you nod, rolling your hips to signal him to move and move he does.

"you're so tight, holy shit."

his hips rock back and forth into you, it's slow and sensual something you hadn't expected, your legs shift and wrap around his hips and your body rocks back against his thrusts willing him to move faster. unlike past partners, oscar seems to get the hint almost instantly as he pulls out and shifts slightly, hand holding onto your hips before he's sheathed himself back into you entirely in a singular thrust.

you moan out, toes curling and your legs wrapping around him so tight as if you'd practically become some sex-fueled boa constrictor. you swear his muscles are working overtime as his abdomen flexes with every deep thrust inside you, your body abuzz with electricity, the fire in your stomach scorching as a particular thrust has him hitting your g-spot and your back arching receptively.

in a world where you'd thought this was ever possible, all imaginations and scenarios have proven wrong already as oscar's thumb finds solace on drawing circles on your clit, causing your pussy to clench around him and a hiss to drag itself from his lips. to oscar you feel amazing and the flush on your face perfect evidence of his inability to be shy about telling you so and all you can do is ooh and ahh in return. something pulls in your stomach when he bottoms out in you again, your leg twitches and you're hyperaware that you'd just orgasmed around him, vocalising how it feels and your back arching however, his hips remain relentless only to come to a halt as he pulls out; your words are stopped as you're flipped over with a gentle tap against your thigh.

arms stretched out in front of you and your back arched, give oscar the perfect view to just take a moment to stare at your fluttering pussy, clenching around nothing as you suffer through a partially stunted orgasm. fingers drag through your folds and your body jerks at the sensitivity, the dip between them, pumping in and out similar to the rhythm he kept previous, his middle finger hooks and your face is thrown forward into the pillow as it hits the spongey feel of your g-spot, you gasp out hand white-knuckling the pillow as he focusses his fingers on that one particular spot

"fuck osc – fuck want you back inside me"

you don't bother with caring much about how whiney and desperate you'd begun to sound, throat dry from the gasping and the continuous noises he pulls from you, your tempting him, ass swaying as he chuckles, pulling his fingers out, he coo's at you as you whine to mourn the loss of the feeling, teases you as he slips the tip of his dick through your flushed red folds and bottom out with a quick hard thrust. you scream out, the pleasure perfectly combining with the sudden stretch to make the sweetest mixture of pain and pleasure you'd ever felt and to silence you, the fingers he'd just fucked you with had found the way into your mouth and if there was one thing you were, it was a good girl.

the sounds reverberating around the walls of the hotel room are borderline pornographic, the new pace oscar has set, deep and hard, skin slapping against skin as he practically bounces off you, his free holding your hip steady as your own knees buckle and you can feel the way his dick pulses inside you, the way his movements become sloppy yet still hitting your pleasure spot every time. the fingers in your mouth licked clean of your own arousal now replaced to be covered in your own drool. oscar grunts, his hips snapping against you in a final thurst as he slumps forward to press the most delicate of kisses to the nape of your neck as he feels you up and you cum around him for a second time.

it's messy, whatever hadn't spilt inside you now jerked off onto your back as your knees give out and you slump against the bed. worn out and woozy you're hardly paying attention to oscar cleaning up, the warm washcloth drags along your hot, sticky and sweaty skin in a way that twists your brain and brings out the regret that seeps into your stomach, had your legs not been feeling like they weren't attached to your body you would have scrambled to get dressed and done the walk of shame back to your own hotel room; however, you stay, regretfully.

you don't cuddle, oscar tries not to act hurt about it as you roll over and away from him when he finally climbs in himself. to you this didn't matter, you fucked him, like nothing matters. come the morning you'll be gone before he wakes. because this didn't mean a thing. to you as least.

yourusername just posted . . . ♫ nothing matters . the last dinner party

liked by lando.jpg, yourbestfrienduser, lolatung and 11,219 others yourusername and i will fuck you, like nothing matters. load more comments

oscarpiastri oh.

authors note: please excuse my smut skills, i'm rusty a lil ngl. i love a bittersweet ambiguous ending. if this gets enough recognition and asks, i'll definitely more than likely make a part two or even multiple parts. reminder, if you weren't tagged it means i couldn't find your account.

add yourself to the taglist here !

taglist: @iluminaya @therealcap @marshmummy @@im-an-overthinker @a1leexxa @chasing-liberosis @marauderssworld @nesssywrites @valntynebaby @larastark3107 @justtprachisblog

#𐙚 paige’s works #oscar piastri x you #oscar piastri #oscar piastri x reader #oscar piastri fic #oscar piastri imagine #oscar piastri smau #oscar piastri smut #f1 x reader #f1 x you #f1 imagines #formula one x reader #formula one x you #formula one imagines

456 notes · View notes

seraphinitegames · 1 year ago

Note

For pure angst purposes hehe: how is Unit Bravo with crying? Does it take a lot for them to cry? What are some things that would make them cry?

Ohh, I do love me some angsty angst, hehe! :D

Hmm...

It takes quite a bit for A to cry. As we're all aware by now, they don't like to show their emotions if they can avoid it! But also they don't want to break down crying in situations where they feel they need to be strong for others.

N will cry easy-ish. It's not their first response, but they aren't worried about showing the emotion if it's really necessary. But they have lived a loooong time, so they have...I wouldn't say hardened themselves to things, but it's sort of like that, so not as easy for them to cry.

F is all about showing emotions, so if they feel like they could cry then they will. Why hold back? But I think the things that make them cry are quite different to what people might expect, though also the obvious too at times!

M...not really a crier. So if and when they cry, you know it's some extreme feelings happening for M *cough* Book Five, possibly because of the MC's choices too make it extra painful *cough*

... ;D

Thank you so much for the ask! :)

#the wayhaven chronicles #asks #interactive fiction #unit bravo #vampires #reaction ask #crying #emotions

541 notes · View notes

arachine · 2 years ago

Note

u asked so I shall deliver :3

but imagine whiny n fucked out Dave Lizewski omfffhhhgggggg, his hair is a mess n his glasses are falling off, they're all dirty too bc he's handsy! Ik he is! and he tries to grab anything he can on u but u just tut him and tell him to keep his hands to himself, so nowwww he's whining even more, he's begging too atp, all glossy eyes and jutted out lips. I KNOW he's a pretty crier, so why shouldn't u mess with him a lil yk?

moral of the story, Dave. Just Dave.

nghhhhh rina i’m gonna scream SO loud.

warnings: unprotected sex, dacryphilia (i think? cba to check if i included it), whiny dave (like down bad, pussydrunk dave) + so rushed i’m sorry but i need to fr study lol :3

can just imagine him begging to touch you. at first, he tries to bargain with you. asks if he can just ‘hold your hips for a bit’, so you don’t ‘fall off’—as he puts it. but you’re ruthless. all bite and no bark.

“good boys keep their hands to themselves,” you tsk, swatting away his wandering appendage. the admonishment forces a whine from his throat, and he retracts his hand quickly like a child scolded for getting into the cookie jar. “don’t you wanna be a good boy for me, baby?”

“yes—fuck—god, yes. j’st let me touch you, let me h-hold you,” he pleads, and it’s so cute. the knot between his brows, the erythro in his cheeks—the crystalline droplets cascading down his face. it doesn’t take much persuasion to get you to acquiesce; not when he’s beneath you like this. looking up at you like you just hung the stars in the sky. “ok, go ahead, baby. touch me.”

and as soon as you give him the okay, he’s flipping you over onto your back, all muscles and eagerness. grabs the weight of his cock and bullies it into your little hole, unconcerned by your protests and light-hearted pleas for him to slow down.

“easy, ‘m not going anywhere,” you giggle, but it falls on deaf ears because he’s concentrated. focused—on one thing and one thing only—or maybe two things—or a few things: your skin, the rivulets of sweat between your breasts, your eyes—the perfect little ‘o’ shape your mouth makes when he hits that spot just right. yeah, he’s focused.

“babybabybaby, i’m close,” he says in your ear, a mixture of a whine and cry, “please, lemme do it inside. can i? i’ll get you the pill, swear i will, s-swear it!”

and at the nod of your approval, he’s pistoning into you like a rabid thing. all mumbles and whimpers, expletives and grunts. telling you how sweet you are to him, and how lucky he is to have a girlfriend who let’s him finish inside her.

says he’ll, “never fuck another girl again,” while the weight of his hand rests firmly against your jaw, and his lithe fingers maneuver your head to meet his lips. and you know he’s telling the truth—because his eyes are all hazy and glossy. they get like that when he’s close; and they got like that when he declared his love for you some time ago. a tell-tale sign.

“so close, baby. use me, you can do it,” you caress his cheek, clenching once, twice, three times around him in an effort to get him to finish. and it works. he manages a few more lazy thrusts before he’s plopping down onto you with a strangled moan and a sigh.

“about that pill…” he starts, “i only have $10 in my account. don’t think we’re ready to be parents.”

gasping, you raise a hand to yank him back by the hair, “lizewski, get off of me right now.” the brunet chuckles but it only coaxes you to pull tighter at the scalp.

“ow, okay, okay. i was just kidding,” he admits, grabbing at the hand holding his hair by the root, “let me go and i’ll go pick it up.”

“alright, go,” you release him, “but seriously, get off of me. you’re heavy.”

#dave lizewski x reader #dave lizewski x reader smut #dave lizewski #tangerine x reader #tangerine x reader smut #aaron taylor johnson #:: — rina bina fo fina 🎀 !#‹ ଘ(��*ˊᵕˋ)੭*♡‧₊˚𝐛𝐚𝐛𝐲 𝐚𝐫𝐚𝐜𝐡𝐧𝐢𝐝𝐬 ᥫ᭡ .ᐟ ›#:: — LEXI WRITES !

2K notes · View notes

that-damn-fouth-chaosemerald · 1 year ago

Note

Could would Lotor, Shiro, Keith and Zarkon (separately) react to finding out that the males of their boyfriend's (m!readers) species can get pregnant? M! reader's species is basically a cat-human hybrid. I don't care if it's smut or fluff.

(feel free to take off Keith or Shiro if there are to many characters)

—❢—

×A/N×

Hey, Anon!

I'm sorry for taking this too long!

The characters are kinda ooc, but I hope it's acceptable!

I wanted to make this as fluff, but I put some spice in it. Don't worry, it's safe.

Although, I have to admit-

I'm a Lotor simp

×❢ About my work ❢×

ooc, fluff, smut, male reader, cat human hybrid reader, no pronouns used for the reader, no proofread

Fandom: Voltron: Legendary Defender

Character(s): Takashi "Shiro" Shirogen, Keith Kogane, Prince Lotor, Emperor Zarkon, You| (Y/N) |The Reader

Ship(s): The characters x You| (Y/N) |The Reader

Form: Headcanons

—❢ー

𝐋𝐨𝐭𝐨𝐫, 𝐒𝐡𝐢𝐫𝐨, 𝐊𝐞𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐙𝐚𝐫𝐤𝐨𝐧 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐠𝐧𝐚𝐧𝐭 𝐌𝐚𝐥𝐞! 𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

[Credit goes to the creators of the gifs!]

Takashi "Shiro" Shirogen

• he is actually pretty surprised

• firstly, because you are a male and you're pregnant

• but don't worry, he traveled through the galaxy and he saw weirder stuff than this

• secondly, he didn't believe that the pregnancy test will be possitive and you guys made it!

• like you came up to him and told that the pregnancy test was possitive and he was like "What's that, hon?"

• BUT YOU GUYS MADE IT! And this is what matters. And ofc the baby's health too, but you get my point

• so it was kind of a good surprise for him

• he's not so crazy about it

• Actually, he never had a crazy, energetic personality, so that's normal from him.

• but he will do his best to keep you and the baby healthy

• he'll also sit down and just talk softer when he's around your belly

• he'll be ONE OF THE most cheesy ones

• also, he won't like it, when others are cursing around you bc of the baby

• HE'S SO DAD!! (I mean he's the dad of the Team Voltron, so what did u expect? -)

Keith Kogane

• he'll just stand there and say "... What?"

• Even if he doesn't show any sign of excitment, you know that he's happy about it.

• You two WILL have serious conversations about he can be a good father, and yes, you know that you're two are ready for this child.

• will be more protective around you than ever

• he's afraid that the baby will get infected by Lance

• "Stop it, you'll make my child(ren) stupid."

"Oh, like you would be any smarter."

"I am."

• 3 months after you've revealed to him that you're pregnant, he have finally accepted that he is ready to be a great and ideal father to your child(ren). He placed your palm into his. "You know... I was thinking, (Y/N)... Maybe... Maybe you're right. I can be a good father to our child(ren)." he looked up at you with a determined sparkle in his eyes. "And I'm so ready for it."

• he's not a big crier, but this will be definitely bring his emotional side out. But just for you and your baby(s) only

Prince Lotor

• ♪ he knows, he knows, and I know he knows ♪

• okay, but seriously, when you mentioned that the test was positive, he'll just stand there and smirk at you and say

• "I already know that, Darling."

• and he also knows that he's happy about it

• definitely that type of person, who already has a whole construction plan of the baby's room

• he'll probably kiss your belly at sex

• also, I think it would turn him onthat how sensitive you are

• "Oh my..." he laughs at your whimpers. He did nothing yet. All he did was just touching your chest with his cold fingertips. And you are already beneath the plesure as you begging him for more. "You're so sensitive for me, Dear."

• He tries to spend as much time with you and the baby as he can. He doesn't want to give your child the same parenthood, like his was. He wants to be better, than his father.

Emperor Zarkon

(Mind if I do past Zarkon? As the Black Lion's paladin? I hope you don't mind it-)

• he could already sense that you're pregnant, so he wasn't so surprised

• though, he was still happy with you

• in the Garla Empire it's quite dangerous to have a child, don't you think so?

• but don't worry, he'll watch out for you

• IS the other cheesy one

• he'll just knee down and kiss your belly while asking "So, how's my babygirl / my big boy?"

• he had some doubt if he could be good father, but he swallowed it quickly

• i mean you chosed him. If he wasn't a good father figure for your beautiful child(ren), why would you choose him, right?

• i would say that he treats you like a prince —just like his son—, he does that everyday so-

• but after all, he's really greatful to have a child (or more) with you, and he's more than ready to be the father of your child(ren)!

#voltron x reader #voltron #voltron legendary defender #zarkon x reader #keith kogane #vld zarkon #prince lotor #vld lotor #keith kogane x reader #lotor x reader #takashi shirogane #shiro x reader #vld x reader #vld shiro #vld

289 notes · View notes

jaylaxies · 1 year ago

Text

KINKTOBER DAY 20 — PHONE SEX

PAIRING: sub!beomgyu x fem!reader

GENRE/CW: smut, slight dacryphilia, usage of nicknames (pup), guided masturbation, gyu is needy and desperate.

WC: 0.8k words

WARNING: 18+ content, minors dni

A/N: hihi, angels! gyu is literally my favourite sub omg, i hope you all enjoy reading this :3 all likes, comments, reblogs and feedbacks are highly appreciated! iloveyou all <33

✎ kinktober masterlist

“God, I wish you were here, Gyu.”

The distress was clear on his face, a sweet pout settling on his glossy lips as he whined, tears forming in his eyes, making them look sparklier than usual, big and pleading for you to help him.

He knew that you’d be back in a week, but it’s too long for the poor pup, who can’t go a day without being in your arms, listening to your sweet praises and proud smile. And right now, he’s heartbroken because he can’t feel your warmth next to him.

It doesn’t help that you’re wearing his favourite lipstick, the one he loves to be marked up with, sitting in a hotel room, all naked yet not giving him the access to see anything more than your cleavage on the FaceTime call.

“Be a good pup, Gyu. Touch yourself for me, hm?” Your voice comes out smooth, eliciting a whimper out of him.

He looks beautiful, keeping his phone upright and stable, letting you get the full view of his milky soft skin and leaking cock, which he fucks using his fist, thrusting his hips up pathetically, the sight so beautiful you couldn’t help but touch yourself, hiding the view from Gyu.

He wanted to see you, he wanted to touch you, please you. He couldn’t, and that had him trembling, gripping the sheets with his free hands, doing all you ordered him to, just to have a glimpse of your body.

He’s desperate.

A stray tear left his eyes, cascading down his flushed cheek, lip swollen with how hard he was biting it.

“That’s it, that’s my pretty baby,” you coo, and he smiles shyly, always in need of praise. He loved it when you called him pretty, the red adorning his cheeks made it all worth it.

“Your p—pretty baby,” he managed to speak, hiccuping when you reward him by adjusting the angle of the phone enough for him to see your tits.

You could’ve sworn he started drooling, crying freely now, hating being deprived of your touch, his eyes fixated on your hardened nipples, “m—mommy,” a broken sob left his lips.

“Good pup, show me your pretty little cock now,” you commanded, and he was fast to pick up the phone, bringing it close to his edging cock.

“I need you so bad,” he cried out, thumb playing with his tip, collecting and smearing the leaking cum all over his cock. The sight was beautiful, his lip wobbling, as he begged for more.

He’d always been desperate, trailing behind you like a lost puppy since the day you first fucked him, avoiding eye contact while asking you for more to becoming the neediest little doll for you, pliant and sweet, but can also be bratty when he wants to be punished (which he quite frankly tends to enjoy).

“Two days more, pup. You can wait that much, right?” You asked, eyebrow raised, knowing well he’d shake his head, another tear falling down his cheek.

“C—can’t! I miss you,” he cries and lord, he is a pretty crier.

You smile, praising him for being such a good boy, helping him calm down a little, “use your stuffie, hm? It’ll help you feel better,” you suggest, and he nods fervently.

He doesn’t waste any second, grabbing the little stuffie before he starts humping, moans getting louder as he closes his eyes, trying to envision the stuffie as you instead. It smelled like you, courtesy of your perfume which he sprayed before you left for the trip.

You loved it, just how willing he was to follow all your orders, just to get a glimpse of your body. With his eyes closed now, you found this to be the perfect opportunity to reward your needy pup, settling the phone a little far, enough to show your body on the screen, “open your eyes, baby,” you whispered.

It was a sight for sore eyes.

His eyes widened, heart beating out of his chest when he took you in. Your body glowing under the dim lights of your room, bare and beautiful, all for his eyes. He could barely breathe anymore, having held back himself for so long, and seeing you was his last straw.

His cock twitched uncontrollably, lips parted as he moaned, not caring for the neighbours who would hear him, all he could do was cry out your name, making a mess all over the stuffie he was humping, a few drops of cum reaching his phone as he went limp, too tired to move, still managing to get the phone close to him, just to see you smiling at him proudly.

“Such a good pup, so pretty, all fucked out for me, hm? Gonna reward you when I come back for being so good,” you coo, and he blushes, warmth spreading in his chest.

He couldn’t wait for you to come back.

THANK YOU FOR READING!

permanent taglist: @jaeminvore @macaroonff @ajayke-reads @jaysbiceps @lunalovesstories @jayzdaze @deobitifull @celeste-hoon @mari-oclock @kpoprhia @ikeuizm @woniebae @lalalalawon @blessedcursd @skzenhalove @heesuncore @seuomo @kyurizeu @haechan-nahceah @tobiosbbyghorl @jezzebear @jaehoonii @itsgivingitalian @bunhoons @hyacandoit @luvswonyoung @ma-riiii

kinktober taglist: @glitterssim @kaykay11sworld @sfsrm-blog @certifiedmoa @luvkpopp @lanawyi @heerinnie @ablackbtsstan @ma-riiii @mesopret @electrobutterfly @cupidsmoons @erehkinnie30 @mulit05ho3st4n

bold ones couldn’t be tagged!

taglist open! send an ask or comment to be added!

#🎫 — kinktober!#beomgyu smut #txt smut #choi beomgyu smut #kpop smut #sub!beomgyu #beomgyu x reader #txt imagines #txt hard hours #txt fanfic

491 notes · View notes

carmyberzattosjournal · 3 months ago

Text

Therapy Files 3: Twist the Knife (Carmy)

GIF credit: @mithrandirl

Summary: Carmy’s girlfriend (who he calls Darling) tells him it’s okay to cry after his first day of therapy. (944 Words) FLUFF.

Warnings: Swearing, comfort, hurt, emotional breakdown (crying), fem reader/lass who is a trauma surgeon, she/her pronouns, mention of Donna Berzatto, mention of Mikey Berzatto, mention of Natalie Berzatto, mention of mental and emotional abuse.

Notes: Thank you for reading and sharing! This is a work in the Therapy Files Series and will be tagged with #cb therapy files.

Sideblog for commentary and social stuff: @m-z-shoroi

Post-Day 1

I held it together after day 1 of therapy until we got back to the apartment.

I don't even remember the drive back. I can't remember if I ever looked up or if Darling tried to speak to me. I just blinked and was standing at the bathroom mirror, staring into a face much like my own but with terrified eyes, reddened cheeks, a reddened nose, and a fat lip bearing teeth marks. These oceans of blues and wisps of gray with spidery red blood vessels invading in from the corners of my eyes where a band of reflections grew, and grew, and grew until my eyes snapped shut, until I retreated to the dark quiet, and warm saltwater fell from them.

My teeth hurt, my chest hurt, my fingers ached from how tightly I was gripping the sink. Hurt so bad I thought they might snap under the pressure of my own muscles crushing my fingertips against unforgiving shitty fucking composite—I couldn’t have that; I need my hands to cook—but I couldn’t override my body to make it stop. The ache in my jaw was so intense that I waited for the searing pain of a tooth cracking because surely, one of them would go, right? This is the part of emotions I can’t stand: the lack of control. I had no control. My body was just doing what it wanted to without my consent, and the only choice I had in the matter was how many times I’d cuss out whatever made me like this for it.

Fuck you.

There. Have another one.

I'm not a crier. I don't fucking cry, okay? I couldn't, because if I did, Mikey or ma would twist the knife further or Nat would catch some heat trying to protect me from them or sometimes all of the above. Why are you fucking crying, you baby? You're not a child. Stop fucking crying. Do you see what I did all day for all of you? Am I crying? Then you shouldn't be fucking crying either.

I hate seeing people cry. It twists something deep inside me, under my diaphragm, almost tucked up against my spine. And not because I want to fix it or make them feel better—really, I only have the energy to worry about Nat or Darling feeling better. I can do something for them. They don't reject me, so it can hurt, and I can try to fix it. No, I hate seeing people get to cry. I hate that they can sob like fucking children over the smallest shit and no one, least of all me, tells them that they're being fucking babies. I used to be a human too, you know? Why couldn't people treat me like that? Why do you get to cry, and I don't? Why do I got to hold my shit together?

"Carmy? Baby?”

Shit, and now Darling’s seen me.

I instinctively swiped away the stupid tears, turned my back to her, clawed for the words to explain to her that I was fine, she didn’t see anything. Reflexes baked into my being from too long a lifetime of being chastised for the act of being human. For daring to feel so much emotion that it’d trigger my body’s reflex to cry. That’s the thing—it’s so fucking human to do so, but no one’s ever treated me like a fucking human, have they? I’ve forever only been worthy of consideration when I served a purpose, I’ve forever been a means or a tool until Darling.

That’s the thing about trauma that they don’t tell you, by the way. They do tell you it’s gonna get worse when you try to get better. But how that happens? How worse is actually a thousand little things that all cut you up like glass shards? Nah, they don’t tell you that shit. You go headfirst in the deep end and get water down your throat and in your eyes and you don’t know which way is up and your legs cramp up and then, and then, and then… Sure, you get a better sense of all the shit you’ve survived, and much like the fleeting ten seconds after avoiding wrecking out on the side of the interstate where your heart slams into your throat because you realize how close to death you were, you spiral down into a pit of despair at how much deeper you’re in that you ever realized. You also get less tolerant to more damage. Shit starts to hurt because you’re not numb anymore. The tiniest shit starts to hurt. It’s maddening.

Darling spun me by my shoulders and clasped me in a hug. My hands planted on her ribs of their own accord, intending to push her away.

“Baby, it’s okay!” she hissed.

I froze.

“It’s okay to cry. I’m right here, Carmy. I got you.”

Her cold fingers wove into my hair, tucked my face into the crook of her neck, arm wrapped around my shoulders and yanked me in. She crushed me in a hug, and I caged her in my grip in response. It ripped something raw in my chest, being held so tightly, being held like she wanted me there. Like I wasn’t a waste of space or time or effort. I got you. I had a life ring, for once. I’m the best swimmer I know, but this time, I didn’t have to fight the tide. Darling would keep me from drowning. I clung to her, gasped in a breath, and—without my consent. Emotions never have consent—choked out a sob.

Darling allowed me to cry.

Tags: @jess248 @catharticconsolation @persymons @morgthemagpie @glitch0o0 @nox-is-thename @forgechildofheph @leminjelly @fridavacado @lumoslemon @cyarskj1899 @carmenberzattosgf

#cb therapy files #carmen berzatto #carmen berzatto fanfiction #carmy x reader #carmy berzatto #the bear fanfiction #carmy berzatto fanfiction #carmen berzatto fluff #carmen berzatto x reader

71 notes · View notes

nepenthe-den · 23 days ago

Text

Hazard NSFW Alphabet!!

18+ MDNI. Enjoy all under the cut ;)

A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)

This man cares SO much. He will spend a few moments with you to take a breath. He runs his hand up and down your back, feels his fingers through your hair, kisses your forehead, everything. Once the two of you have caught your breath, he helps you to the bathroom to clean up. Probably smacks your butt after too.

B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

Of yours? Hazard is a thigh man through and through. He loves your thighs and stomach. Even when the two of you aren't getting freaky, he uses your thighs as pillows. He loves loves loves to grab at them and bite them. He's a happy man with your thighs around his head.

He personally loves his arms and chest. Mostly because he sees you staring at them constantly. This fucker doesn't wear a shirt for a reason. Holds you tight against him with his arms and presses you into place with his torso.

C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)

This is where he's a bit conflicted. Hazard is a messy man by nature, but if he can cum inside you, that's what he's doing. I think it would depend on how the two of you are feeling.

D = Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

Hazard secretly wants you to collar him and ride him until he can't think. This man aims to please. He's a service top but he would be lying if he said he didn't want you to take control and take care of him. However, this requires a lot of trust for him. Only once hes fully comfortable in your relationship will he admit this to you.

E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)

Oh he knows what he's doing. Although, I feel like by the time he joins the Phreaks and enters a relationship with you, it's been a hot minute. But the longer you're in a relationship, the more he knows how to get you shaking.

F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)

I'm not gonna lie... Full Nelson. Purely because he's strong enough to lift you like that. Ties into why he likes his arms and chest. He's freaky, he wants to try some interesting positions with you. But when hes feeling more intimate he likes to face you. Cowgirl, good ol missionary, anything. He wants to see you and kiss you.

G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)

Two sides. As mentioned before, he can be either pretty freaky or pretty intimate. Usually he is more teasing than goofing around.nWhen he's more sentimental, he's not cracking as many jokes.

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

I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)

Hazard is definitely hairy. It's a little wild down there but he still likes to be hygienic and trimmed.

J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)

He can get very intimate and sentimental. I think he can be a bit of a crier because he just cares SO much. Like yeah, he's a big tough guy with piercings and tattoos and muscles, but love really softens him. Hazard can fuck you and love you.

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)

😮‍💨 He jacks off a lot. Whether you're there or not. Likes to tease you and be a little loud if you're in the other room, makes sure you can hear him. Definitely likes to make you watch sometimes too. If you're not there, he gets whiny. He just wants you so bad.

L = Location (favorite places to do the do)

Whew don't even get me started. First of all, he bites. Sometimes it's just grazing you with his teeth, other times he just bites you. He loves to see the marks on you.

He also loves the size difference. That's undeniable. He can't get enough of how big and strong he is compared to you and how useful that is in the bedroom.

M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)

As freaky as he is, he actually prefers to stay in the bedroom. He won't venture outside your home.

N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

This man is so horny for you. Standing next to you and looking down at you gets him thinking. When he's touching you in any way, he's biting his lip. You have a beast on your hands.

O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

Mentioned before, but he wouldn't do anything in public. Makes him uncomfortable he doesn't want to risk anyone seeing him or you in that way.

P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)

Hazard is a huge giver. He loves to give and please you. He's fucking good at it too. But! He can't deny how much he loves to see your lips around his cock. He gives and gives but once he receives, he is absolutely mush.

Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)

He can be rough and/or fast. He knows how to move his hips and he knows how to get your body reacting to him. He likes to be slow on purpose sometimes to tease you and get you to beg.

R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)

Hazard loves a good quickie. Not very often, usually just when he's wanting you before a mission with the Phreaks. He much prefers to spend his time with you if he can, but he doesn't mind a quickie when that's all there's time for.

S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)

Ohhh yea. He's always asking you about trying things. Hazard loves to experience new things, and if you're comfortable with it, he's gonna make it happen. This man is SO FREAKY.

T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)

Come on. He's young, he's built, he's jumping around constantly, he has modifications, etc. Hazard could go all fucking night. He stops when you want to stop. His stamina is unparalleled.

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

Yes yes yes. This ties into the experimentation. He prefers to not use them, but when they are being used, boy does he enjoy himselfm

V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)

Hazard LOVES to tease you. He's kinda just an annoying little shit. Slows his pace to make you beg, bites you, smacks your ass, says things to shock you and make you blush, the whole course. He even likes to be teased. He lives for the banter between you.

W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)

At first he's quiet and tries not to be loud, but after a while he just allows himself to feel good. Grunts and groans and the occasional whine. He can tell you enjoy when he's vocal too.

X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)

(I can't think of anything I feel like I have stated it all before, I'm sorry 😭)

Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)

Hooo boy. He's big. And he's thick. I'm thinking around 7 inches.

Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

Mentioned before, but he is always wanting you. Literally the smallest things get him hard. He can deal with it himself if you aren't in the mood, though.

Once the two of you are calmed down and cleaned up, he's out like a light. Immediately knocked out and snoring. Probably falls asleep mid conversation if you two are talking lmao.

I hope you enjoyed!! I kept accidentally posting this I apologize but here is the final product! I really enjoyed doing this, it was quick and fun and worked my headcannon brain. Except for the wildcard one, I genuinely couldn't think of anything 😭

#hazard #hazard overwatch #overwatch #findlay docherty #overwatch hazard #findley docherty #overwatch 2 hazard #overwatch 2

45 notes · View notes

mister-mickey · 1 year ago

Text

Outsiders (and twttin) crying hcs because I’m terrible and evil

Darry

- he only cries when he has time to. Like, if he’s busy he will push those feelings down until he isn’t

- when he does actually cry, it’s very quiet. He’s just laying in bed letting the tears stream down his face

Soda

- low key a crybaby. Like he cries even when he’s happy

- blubbery, needs someone around. Like he won’t cry when he’s alone because that’s not what he needs

Pony

- he’s 14 he’s def a bit of a crybaby too. He’s more embarrassed about it than soda

- he, like Darry, wants to be alone and cry when he has time, but he, like soda, emotionally needs the company even if he doesn’t want it

Johnny

- canonly rarely cries. If he does, it’s a big deal

- he’s like empty inside if he’s at that point, probably hugging his knees and hiding away. He’s trying to be quiet too

Steve

- somewhat similar to soda in that he will cry at any extreme emotion, not just sadness. However, he has to be at a much further point than soda does

- he wants to be alone when he cries because he’s embarrassed, but often conversations with soda will pull some tears out that he’s been holding in. Sometimes their hangouts end with soda holding him while Steve just cries

Dally

- he doesn’t cry. He’s too tough to cry (lies)

- he does cry, just not often and certainly not when someone else can see. Usually it’s just a few tears and it’s over, and it’s not for any particular reason.

Twobit

- big baby. He can also fake cry if he needs to

- he ain’t ashamed of his tears, but he won’t cry in front of someone he dislikes or in front of someone he wants to be tough around (like someone younger or something) he will cry in front of his mom though because they have a very open relationship. He’s a mommas boy

Tim

- doesn’t cry, according to himself and also curly and Angela. (Also a lie)

- he won’t cry in front of anyone because he refuses to be weak. But like, it still happens. Usually he’s in bed thinking and he makes himself cry because of that (so me)

Angela

- she has no qualms about crying in front of people, especially her brothers. She has used Tim’s shirt as a tissue and then scolded him for getting his shirt dirty

- she’s a loud crier if she’s with someone, but by herself it’s those silent choking tears that genuinely hurt

Curly

- hates crying but doesn’t have the self control to not cry in front of people. He usually cries when he’s in pain or very very annoyed (maybe Tim and Angela keep pestering him) he doesn’t really cry when he’s sad

- you know those studio ghibli tears? Where they’re round and they just keep coming? That’s him

Bryon

- honestly it would take a lot to make him cry, not because he’s tough, but because it isn’t really thing he ever does. Like he generally just sleeps his feelings off

- if he did cry it’s probably sniffly and gross, and he’s wiping it off on his sleeve and stuff

Mark

- also doesn’t really cry, but that’s more because he’s never really given a reason to, at least not as a teenager

- when he was a kid though he would cry sometimes, probably cuddle up to Bryon’s mom. (That bitch) he’d still get over it fast though.

Cathy

- she cries a lot but not really in front of people unless she knows they can make her feel better.

- she will cry around M&M but not her parents, she will cry with bryon but never around mark. She lets the tears roll down her face as she explains what’s wrong

M&M

- I can’t imagine him crying, but if he did it would be with Cathy because he trusts her and she won’t ever judge him for it

- he leans against her and talks with her as he sniffles and wipes his tears away

#the outsiders #tim shepard #curly shepard #darry curtis #angela shepard #dallas winston #ponyboy curtis #steve randle #sodapop curtis #johnny cade #Cathy Carlson #m&m carlson #bryon douglas #mark jennings #that was then this is now

176 notes · View notes

earthshine-moon · 4 months ago

Text

The Fëanorians’ names

I’ve been thinking about this a lot recently and I wanted all of their names and etymologies in one place so I thought I’d share it ❤️

Feel free to let me know in the notes if I’ve missed any or gotten anything wrong

Maedhros

The Tall (sobriquet)

Nelyafinwë (fn, Quenya) - ‘third Finwë’

Nelyo (s fn, Q) - ‘third’

Maitimo (mn, Q) - ‘well-shaped one’

Russandol (epessë, Q) - ‘copper-top’ (from russa - ‘red-haired’). Given by his brothers due to his red hair. He also wore a copper circlet

Maedhros (Sindarin) - from maed - ‘shapely’ and ross - ‘red-haired’. Derived from Maitimo and Russandol

Maedros (S) - proper spelling of Maedhros due to the etymology

Maidhros/Maedhros (Noldorin) - ‘pale-glitter’ (from maidh - ‘pale’ / ‘fallow’ / ‘fawn’ and rhoss - ‘flash’ / ‘glitter of metal’)

Maglor

The Minstrel (s)

Kanafinwë (fn, Q) - ‘strong-voiced Finwë’

Kano (s fn, Q) - ‘commander’ / ‘crier’ / ‘herald’

Macalaurë (mn, Q) - ‘forging gold’ / ‘gold-cleaver’. Prophetic reference to his harping skill with laurë being poetic and not referring to the metal

Maglor (S) - ‘forging gold’ (from Macalaurë)

Magalor (pure S rendition) - presumably ‘forging gold’ (from Macalaurë)

Maglor (N) - ‘gold-cleaver’ (from Macalaurë)

Celegorm

The Fair (s)

Turcafinwë (fn, Q) - ‘strong, powerful (in body) Finwë’

Turco (s fn, Q) - ‘strong, powerful (in body)’ / ‘chief’

Tyelcormo (mn, Q) - ‘hasty-riser’. Reference to his quick temper and habit of standing up when angry (from tyelka - ‘hasty’ and (I think) ormë - ‘haste’ / ‘violence’ / ‘rushing’)

Celegorm (S) - ‘hasty riser’ (from Tyelcormo). North Sindarin as it keeps the m

Celegorn (N) - presumably ‘swift-impetuous’

Celecormë (Q) - early form of Quenya version of Celegorm. Relating to Oromë

Caranthir

The Dark (s)

Morifinwë (fn, Q) - ‘dark Finwë’. Referring to his black hair inherited from Finwë

Moryo (s fn, Q) - from morë - ‘black’ / ‘dark’ / ‘darkness’

Carnistir (mn, Q) - ‘red-face’. Referring to his ruddy complexion inherited from Nerdanel

Caranthir (S) - ‘red-face’ (from Carnistir)

Cranthir / Cranthor (N) - ‘perfect’

Curufin

The Crafty (s)

Curufinwë (fn, Q) - ‘skilful Finwë’. Fëanor’s father-name. Given because Curufin was his father’s favourite and most like him in looks and mind

Curvo (s fn, Q) - ‘skill’ (from curu)

Atarincë (mn, Q) - ‘little father’. Referring to his resemblance to his father in both looks and mind

Curufin (S) - from curu - ‘skill’ and fin - Sindinarised Finwë

Cyrefinn Facensearo (Old English) - translation of his name in The Earliest Annals of Valinor. Defined as cyre - ‘choice’, facen - ‘deceit, guile, wickedness’, searu - ‘skill, cunning’, facensearu - ‘treachery’

For reference: Amrod is noted as the older twin for most of the legendarium. Inverted in a later story when Tolkien was working out the etymology of their names when he also changed Amrod’s fate

Amrod

huntan (s) - ‘the hunters’. Collectively known as in The Earliest Annals of Valinor

Pityafinwë (fn, Q) - ‘little Finwë’. Name of the older twin

Pityo (s fn, Q) - ‘little’ (from pitya)

Ambarto (mn, Q) - amba - ‘up’ / ‘upwards’ / ‘top’ and arata - ‘high’ / ‘noble’ / ‘exalted’ / ‘lofty’ / ‘excellent’

Minyarussa (Q) - ‘first-russa’. Called by others

Ambarussa (Q) - ‘top-russet’. Name they called each other

Umbarto (Q) - ‘fated’ (masculinised form of umbar - ‘fate’. In the 12th volume of The History of Middle-earth, it was given by Nerdanel after Fëanor begged for their names to be different. He changed it to Ambarto and gave it to the youngest twin. Used by no one

Damrod (Q) - Noldorin translation of the Qenya name Nambarauto (from namba - ‘to hammer’ and rauta - ‘metal’). Used in earlier Silmarillion material

Déormód (OE) - ‘brave-hearted’. Translation of Damrod

Amras

huntan (s) - ‘the hunters’. Collectively known as in The Earliest Annals of Valinor

Telufinwë (fn, Q) - ‘last Finwë’. Name of the younger twin

Telvo (s fn, Q) - ‘last’ / ‘final’ (from telda)

Ambarussa (mn, Q) - ‘top-russet’. Also the name they called each other

Atyarussa (Q) - ‘second-russa’. Called by others

Diriel (Exilic Noldorin) - derived from the Old Noldorin name Dirghel (from dîr - ‘adult male’ (of any race) and gel - ‘joy’ / ‘shout’ / ‘triumph’)

Maithog / Mailweg - possible initial names for Amras before written over with either Dinithel or Durithel

Tirgeld (OE) - from tîr - ‘glory’ and geld - ‘gild’ (in names meaning ‘of worth’)

57 notes · View notes

gallaghersgal · 1 year ago

Note

SUB LIP AND CARMY LAAAWRD (sorry for rambling my fault yall…)

carmen would be a whiner for sure—he’s a little embarrassed by it but not too much. to me i feel like he’d just wanna be taken care of…..no meanness or teasing just lots of praise. prefers slow grinds that make him tear up bc it’s so good. probably when he has bad days and wants to just have soft mushy gushy lovey dovey sex

now lip (slut) i feel like he rarely subs but that’s because he’s got that internalized ‘macho’ bs implanted in his brain. but when he does he’s probably bitchy saying “want me to take over? probably do it better than you 🤭” and when he stops being so bullheaded it’s all “o-oh, keep fuckin me like that, shhhit s’good”

feel like carmen would love a little edging? not a lot but…because the release is more than just physical it’s kinda emotional for him too? while lip would love overstimulation because it’d be the only thing he could focus on it’d just wipe his brain of all his current worries

oooooooooooooooo lord. oh lord. i need a cold shower.

carmen being a whiny baby is so real. i know he just wants to be taken care of after a long hard day in the kitchen, and he would be so sweet, begging you... 'please baby 's so good' 'f-fuck!' 'shit- 'm gonna come-' and its all strained and he's stuttering... he loves when you edge him, and i mean loves it, he loves to beg and beg and get pushed so close to the edge. and hes a crier, trust. he likes to feel vulnerable and soft with you.

getting lip to submit would be an... ordeal. but i think you can coax him into it. i think tying him up would be good for his giant fucking ego, once you get his ass tied down and start making him feel good he would start to let down that facade he's always putting up. he'd be squirming and begging you to untie him so he can touch you and please you. once you get him like that he would be soooo eager to please you. he would do anything to get you off, eat you out for hours and ask for nothing in return, just asking 'yeah, baby, 's good for you?' 'you can gimme another, wanna make you feel good please' 'am i makin' ya feel good? hm?' and for sure lots of 'thank you, thank you baby' when you praise him for how good he's being.

in conclusion: yes.

#my michelin star [carmy]#southside smartass [lip]#carmen berzatto x reader #carmen berzatto smut #lip gallagher x reader #lip gallagher smut #sub!lip gallagher #sub!lip gallagher x reader #sub!carmen berzatto #sub!carmen berzatto x reader

256 notes · View notes

shoyoist · 2 years ago

Text

──── 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐎𝐂𝐇𝐈𝐒𝐓 : kurokawa izana.

content: gn!reader. dοm reader & sub izana hehe<3 use of a bυtt plug, hand jοb, overstim, masοchistic behavior & dirty talk, dacryphilia, a lil degradation, teasing, multiple οrgasms (m), one slap on the thigh.

— . ｡˚ ♡ there's so many things about izana that people have no idea of.

kurokawa izana is something of a sadist. you know that. he's violent, a little (very) sick in the head, has so much blood on his hands and he's out for even more. he doesn't hesitate to start a fight, and he breaks people's bones and rids them of their lives with gleeful conviction.

he'll kill a man and go home and hold your hands and kiss you like his hands aren't sticky and his lips aren't bitter with the slightest hint of blood.

kurokawa izana is a sadist and a ruthless emperor, and he's feared. everyone knows that. but what people don't know about him, is that he fears you.

better said, he fears being on your bad side. or what one could call your ‘bad side’, because really, your darling izana could never get on your bad side. he's just too precious to you for that.

the bad side he fears is the side of you that is so, so mean and merciless to him in bed.

another thing most people don't know about izana is that he's a crier. his eyes fill with tears the moment you say something mean to him. he pouts, pleads and cries his eyes out for you every time you punish him for being a little brat.

or for being too careless, too reckless when he runs around the city killing everyone that gets on his nerves. it's deserved, after all, isn't it? you have to put him in his place sometimes. what would you do if the cops got him? the world would love to snatch up a criminal as renowned as yokohama tenjiku's one and only.

but then again, maybe he likes the punishment. maybe he likes crying for you, likes being fucked into a mess and turned into a stupid little doll in your arms.

you see the way his eyes roll back, pretty violet blurred with tears, mouth open and tongue out as he moans, sobbing your name, squirming in your arms and curling his toes while you milk his balls dry. yeah, definitely.

it seems kurokawa izana is also something of a masochist.

“open your mouth.” you say when he bites his lip, head tipping back as he cums into your fist again, legs twitching helplessly as you wrap an arm around his waist and hold him down, his bare back pressed to your chest. “open your mouth, ‘zana baby.”

he opens his mouth then, a little “mm, fuck— hah,” before his lips part and his little pink tongue is out for you again.

“keep it open.” you say, knowing he wants you to spit in his mouth, deciding not to do it. you'll toy with him a little tonight. “keep it open and be loud. you know i like you loud.”

he's too fucked out to think up a proper sentence to reply to you with, so he just moans — and you'd slap his thighs red and raw to punish him for that, if only he wasn't so fucking cute like this.

the plug in his ass hums quite softly, but you know it's vibrating deep inside him and teasing his most sensitive spots while you're busy overstimulating his dick — the little sighs he lets out every now and then, shifting his position to dig the plug a little further into his ass, it lets you know he's enjoying it just fine.

his cum trails down your fingers, silky and translucent, making the movement of your fist up and down his poor, overstimulated cock even wetter, even faster. you watch it, watch the way his cock jerks up when you flick his sensitive head, smile when his moan turns into a pitchy cry. he's so cute.

“gonna be louder than that, princess?” you lean in and whisper into the shell of his ear. “or do i have to tie and gag you up and do something that'll really hurt you?”

the shiver that runs up his body is electric, and it makes his bronze skin rush with goosebumps.

even you feel his instant arousal. he curls up in your hold, grabbing your wrist in shaky hands and whines, “no, ‘m being good! please— i'll be loud, fuck — i promise!.”

you trail your free hand up his chest, feeling his heartbeat under your palm as you go, wrapping your fingers around his throat and squeezing. “you promise?”

”i—i promise,” he chokes out, eyes rolling into the back of his head, hips bucking into your fist as you tighten your grip around his spent dick. “please. don't wan’ you to hurt me—” you cut him off with a sharp slap to his thigh, and the moan that slips shamelessly past his lips gives him away.

you don't rub the sting of it away for him, and he squirms again, his own hand hurrying to caress the burn. oh, baby.

he wants you to hurt him. wants you meaner.

“pretty little pain-slut,” you scoff, taking his cock in your hand once more. ”dont lie to me. you want me to take that little plug out of your ass and fuck you good, hm? fuck you till it knocks you out?”

“uh huh,” he nods, looking up at you with wet, hazy eyes. you brush his hair aside, tucking the stray strands of pale hair behind his ears, kissing his sweaty forehead before you give him a smile. “uh huh? gonna take what i give you? like a good boy?”

“uh huh,” he repeats, trying to stay attentive but getting distracted by your hand that's inching down his body to tug at the plug still in his ass, teasing him and making him clench around the buzzing toy. “fuck. wa—wanna get fucked so bad, please.”

maybe just this once, you'll quit being too mean and give izana what he wants. he's being good right now, anyway. and of course — kakucho doesn't appreciate it when he comes home and finds out you've been messing your princess up a little too much while he was out.

“alright.” you decide, pulling izana in for a kiss. “i'll fuck you just the way you like. and then you'll behave for me?”

“hah— i will!” he begs, and he's just so pretty it makes you oblige. you know he won't behave. he knows you know. you both know he'll end up in bed with you like this again, give or take a couple of weeks.

but it's a cycle you both just cannot get enough of <3.

#₊˚ପ⊹ REKHA™.#₊˚ପ⊹ NYCHTA.#izana smut #tokyo revengers smut #kurokawa izana smut #izana x reader #kurokawa izana x reader #tokyo revengers x reader #tr smut #tr x reader #izana headcanons #tokyo revengers headcanons #izana drabbles #tokyo revengers drabbles

578 notes · View notes

rapha-reads · 7 months ago

Text

IWTV rewatch

Season 1 episode 2 [... After the Phantoms of Your Former Self] - part 3/3

- Love how Grace knows it's not just a case of a baby crying, she knows her brother, she knows her brother is different, she knows he baby could very well be in danger. That's sibling and maternal instincts in one.

[Louis] "'I had him in my arms... And I was ready to tear into him. I'm never gon' get control over it.' [Lestat] 'You've been skipping meals lately. Don't think I haven't noticed.'" - notice how Lestat immediately cares for Louis, worries about him, and tries to comfort him, only for Louis, Saint Louis, to reject the gesture of comfort because he thinks in his self-hatred that he doesn't deserve it? And also notice how pretty a crier Jacob is. Ahem. Who said that.

[Lestat] "'If you love your family, as I know you do, spare them all the pain that you are causing them.' [Louis] 'I ain't gon' have a family of my own, am I? No sons, no daughters.' [Lestat] 'I'm your family, Louis.' [Louis] 'You should just throw me in the incinerator and make another one.' [Lestat] 'And what a waste that would be. I have two centuries walked this Earth and can report: you have no twin. No one as angry, as stubborn, as unaccommodating, as maddening...' [Louis] 'Sounds like trash to me.' [Lestat] '... as loving, as dedicated, as thoughtful, as imperfectly perfect as you've become. You're a challenge every sunset, Saint Louis, and I'd have it no other way.'"

HI EXCUSE ME WHAT GIVES YOU THE RIGHT TO PLAY WITH MY HEART LIKE THAT. No because it's Louis' dream of having a family (Claudiaaaaaaa - also give Lestat like a century or two more and he'll give you exactly that) meeting Louis' depression and self-hatred, meeting Lestat's need to be love, meeting Lestat's absolute, deep love for Louis. They're not speaking the same language still, but they've found a middle ground, and when they do strike the middle ground, it's sparks and magic. Aaaah, it is maddening! They are maddening. I don't even remember what I wanted to say, I'm just sobbing in my cup of tea.

Wait, no I remember. EXCUSE ME. Louis' hopelessly fond smile when Lestat shows the tuxedos and says "I've been neglectful of our romance" (currently sobbing even more) reminded me. Awards for Jacob to go that soft after being that down. Back to the previous exchange. It's about how soft Lestat's voice goes when he tells Louis he'd have him no other way, and it's about how Louis finally lets Lestat comforts him and how he softens, relaxes and calms down gradually as Lestat keeps talking and petting him. *screams* Need I add more? No? Carrying on.

- [Louis] "He had a way about him, those first few years, Lestat. Preternaturally charming, occasionally thoughtful. He was my murdered, my mentor, my lover, and my maker... all of those things at once. He didn't choose me to be his doormat. I knew he enjoyed it when I fought back, but there was present a kind of worship on my part. The earth beneath me always felt liquid."

*screams some more* Was the romantic background music really necessary? We get it. You loved him, you still love him but this time with both eyes open even though you're still in denial, he's the love of your life, we get iiiiiiiiiit. Daniel's fond but amused little smirk gets me. Boy knows vampire's pining. Boy knows vampire's dumb. Boy knows story's not that simple. Changing subject, petition to get the word "preternatural" BANNED please. That's one word I'm not happy to have learned. Even in French we just stick to "surnaturel" (supernatural). Also according to Collins Dictionary, the use of the word "preternatural" was kinda low until the late 70s- early 80s when it exploded. Wonder what happened then to change the trend. What a mystery. Guess we'll never know.

- ghghhghe THE OPERA SCENE. I had forgotten the opera scene. The scheme to get Louis into the room (role-playing as Lestat's valet, hello social commentary). Louis sitting there "simmering in his indignation", and Jacob's masterful acting with the jaw and fists clenching, the steely eyes fixed straight ahead. And then Lestat coming in with the hammer, voice soft and gaze downcasted, timid and apprehensive:

[Lestat] "There is one thing about being a vampire that I most fear above all else... and that is loneliness. You can't imagine the emptiness... a void stretching out for decades at a time. You take this feeling away from me, Louis. We must stay together and take precaution and never part."

I NEED A MINUTE, GEEZ. To comment again on the timeline change from late 18th century to 1910s, it actually adds to Lestat's character. In the books, when Lestat meets Louis, he hasn't been a vampire for more than 15 years, iirc he was brought into the Blood in 1780 and arrived in New Orleans in 1791, after spending some years traveling with Gabrielle, a few months at best sleeping in the sand and then a few days with Marius (dates are vague at best). So he hasn't known true loneliness so far when he turns Louis. Whereas here, he's gone through the entire 19th century alone. He actually knows loneliness, both the human kind that he knew in the book, and the vampire kind. It adds weight to his fear of being alone, and to how he clings to Louis even to the point of doing horrifying things to keep him with him. Is it emotional manipulation? Yeah, def. Mais on n'en est plus à ça prés avec eux (best translation I can come up with is: but we're already way past that with them; the French expression is much more evocative, it kind of means "yeah, but, with them, emotional abuse is the least of our worries, something like that).

The hand caress, be right back, need to set myself on fire.

[Louis] "And music, that was where Lestat separated man from food" - music is the language of the soul. (Rockstar Lestat wheeeeeeeen)

[Louis] "Music pierced his damned soul. And any humans who were involved with the creation of it existed on an elevated plane in his eyes. I was moved to see he too had his human attachments. And this woman sang for us, it seemed, articulating the difficult love we often had trouble expressing ourselves."

No but it's the way Louis' voice is just so full of love here, so soft and fond and reminiscing, as if he doesn't even realise how tenderly he's speaking of Lestat a century later, while 1917's Louis' face is equally as soft and fond and gazing tenderly at Lestat as Lestat's singing to himself. *scream cont'd*

Lestat reacting to the tenor's false notes: absolute ear Lestat. (tho tbh even I can hear how horrendous the tenor sounds, and I know next to nothing about music technicality - but I did went to the opera last week for the first time in several years and the tenor was fantastic)

[Louis] "The hunt was on" - yes please.

[Louis] "This poor soul was someone's son, someone's brother, and he was to be slaughtered for what? A false note?" - aw, Louis' humanity. Baby you're too good.

Hi, excuse me again, Lestat speaking Italian? Sam speaking Italian???? SO FUCKING GOOD. Petition to have Sam speak Italian again in season 3, and even more languages. Wanna hear him speak Greek and Arabic please oh my vampire gods make it happen.

[Louis] "'Why do you do this, Lestat?' [Lestat] 'Well, I like to do it. I enjoy it.' [Louis] 'Well, I don't. You don't have to humiliate him.' [Lestat] 'Well I don't say that you have to enjoy it! Kill them swiftly if you have to, but DO IT! Embrace what you are! You are a killer, Louis!'"

Was tempted to put all of Lestat's line in all caps, because man the shift from gallant speaking Lestat to losing-his-shit-ROARING Lestat was something. Oh, and here's the main current issues as of 1917 between them. And while they're having their little domestic squabble, a man's bleeding on the poor rug that didn't ask for it. The rug, that is. Not the man.

[Louis] "I was in denial. For in bringing death, Lestat was an artist. He had cut the man tenderly so that he could not call for help, but also so that his death was slow, meditative. And I felt a charge, witnessing it."

Listen, Lestat's an artist, period. A diva and a drama queen with several truckloads of issues, but a true artist. And again Louis' voice go soft, contemplative, tender, reminiscing about Lestat. Also, Louis, mate, the denial has been going on for more than a century at this point and not just about the subject of death and killing. Sorry to burst your bubble. Oh, and Daniel looking down, a bit disappointed I feel? as Louis describes Lestat killing, shows that Daniel's in on it too.

- [Louis] "I try to have a human dish once a week" - sorry, what? Big canon change, as far as I understood from the books, vampires can't eat or drink human food, their system isn't designed for it anymore.

Alright, do we think Alice is a construct of Daniel's mind through Armand's mind games, or do we think she's real? Haven't entirely followed the fandom's theories on this own. Do we think that Armand did stalk and traumatise Daniel for a decade after the botched '73 interview but didn't go full Devil's Minion? Or do we think he left him alone after the six days of torture? Guess season 3 will tell us. But the fact that this important little scene, of the dessert and the first proposal, happens in Paris, a city that's important to Armand... Sus, I say. Aw, Danny's a sad boy. Love Louis' face as Daniel finished talking, gives cred to the idea that these are fabricated memories. The face says "man, I'm reading your thoughts as you're speaking, and something here's fishy, something doesn't make sense, but you know what, right now I have enough on my plate with my own bullshit, can't deal with yours". Let's table it for now (that's my own "disregard", lmao). Should add screencaps to these reviews, the final image here, the long dinner table, the grey and brown coloring, the two men sitting on opposite side, that's right out of a painting. Someone who did Art History, analyse that final image.

Ooooh, I think next episode was one of my favorite, with Antoinette, Jonah, and almoooost Claudia.

#aaand we're done for episode 2 pfiouuu that was a ride!! hope y'all are enjoying it i know i do #holy shit i think it took me 5 hours to do just one episode what the hell #rapha talks #rapha watches shows #interview with the vampire #iwtv #iwtv amc #amc iwtv #iwtv s1 #iwtv rewatch #episode reaction #after the phantoms of your former self #lestat de lioncourt #louis de pointe du lac #daniel molloy #loustat #yeah that last part was definitely the loustat part of the episode #comments responses and criticism welcome

28 notes · View notes