Tumgik
#also they say 'man' over 50 times in that movie
bleh1bleh2 · 10 months
Text
Tumblr media
Bonus:
Tumblr media
436 notes · View notes
chrolloluvr · 2 months
Note
Hey, I saw some other headcanons similar to this and absolutely loved the concept! Adam x reader, love at first sight? Like he just makes it his mission to go out with reader afterwards?
Tumblr media
Adam falling love at first sight
Note: TY FOR REQUESTING!!! This is also before the big fight on ep 8!
Female!Reader
Warnings: Cussing, creepy behavior, adam is smitten for you 🌺🌺
When he first sees you, he immediately was struck by an unfamiliar feeling. Who the hell is this chick?
He has never felt this way about Lilith, or even Eve, so what was different about you? He had to find out. And usually when he sees a pretty face on a woman, he thinks of vile, guttural thoughts. But with you, all he thought about was the way you looked so graceful, and how you carried yourself, and your beautiful eyes, and your glistening skin, and your-
Lute had violently interrupted him from his daydreaming, by basically yelling at him for the whole promenade to hear.
He had Lute immididietley do some detective digging on you. He at first was going to go up to you to ask for your digits, but he felt... nervous?
After lute reported back about her findings, she had told him all about you. He didn't know it, but he was truly in love. He just could not stop thinking about you, and how to get you.
He told Lute about these feelings, and when she explained, 'Sir, it seems you are in love', he flat out refuses it. He tries to convince himself you are just some hot broad, that he just happened to run into.
If he were in a meeting with Sera, he would have you running laps in his mind. Planning the next extermination? Goddamnit, get out of my head you stupid bitch!
He comes to the conclusion that to stop thinking about you, he needs to talk to you. So he sad Lute figure out your number and address, and thats when he tries to get with you.
This man will literally rehearse his first meeting with you in the mirror, as if he is a teenage boy going on his first date. But he isn't, and this is definitely not his first date, or at least, this is his first real time trying to impress a woman. Because usually, he does not need to act fly to get any girl he wants.
After you find out he is THE Adam, you flat out say no, because you dont want that kind of attention. So you start to ignore him. But that just motivates him to keep contacting you.
XXX-XXX-XXXX 5:31
Hey babes, wyd? you down for dinner tonight? Just you and me.
XXX-XXX-XXXX 5:33
Or maybe we can watch a movie and chill?
XXX-XXX-XXXX 5:47
C'mon babe, how can you refuse me? Ill meet you there in 30 ;)
XXX-XXX-XXXX 5:50
Hey, respond?
XXX-XXX-XXXX 7:10
Hey sugar, lets do something tmrw isntead since your clearly busy 😘
He will send you huge bouquets of flowers, along with a handmade book he made, filled with "anonymous love letters" which you can clearly tell are from him due to his messy handwriting.
He will then eventually "accidentally" bump into you. Every time he does, you are basically forced to talk to him and listen to his tangents, on how going out with him is the best choice you will ever make.
And honestly, he just does not stop bothering you. Even if you were to straight up tell him to leave you the fuck alone, he wont.
"Hey y/n whats up? Whacha doing tonight...? Maybe it can include me. im free yknow, if you ever wanna hang. Im great at choosing places or if you want you can choose-"
He is truly in love with you. He wants you to eventually be his future wife in his mind, making you the third. And in his mind, you already are.
If you just keep telling him off for months, hell, maybe even years, he will never get over you and your beauty.
If you eventually say yes to a date, he will be so excited, but will play it off because hes just chill like that. But he is down so bad for you, and honestly wants you all to himself.
695 notes · View notes
popopretty · 4 months
Text
[Translation] Asagiri Kafka's afterwords for The Day I Picked up Dazai novel
Normally, afterwords would be the last thing I read in a novel, but as there are not many changes to the published novel this time compared to the movie bonus version, I was able to skim through the text quickly and get to this. And to be honest, despite not being a writer myself, I was so moved by Asagiri's views about writing and his characters that he shared in the afterwords, that I had to sit down and translate it right away.
This is just my crappy translation, as usual, but I hope it gave you a short, interesting look into the author and the characters. And please do not forget to buy the novel if you have the chance.
The translation is under the cut, thank you!
It has been a while. This is Asagiri Kafka.
Have you been enjoying Bungou Stray Dogs?
This novel, “The Day I Picked up Dazai”, is a compilation of the first week’s bonus novel “The Day I Picked up Dazai – Side A” and the second week’s bonus novel “The Day I Picked up Dazai – Side B” for the screening of “Bungou Stray Dogs BEAST” movie (hereinafter referred to as “BEAST”).
Normally, it is difficult to publish a bonus like this, but since "BEAST” and “Fifteen” that were published earlier by BEANS Bunko were originally bonus novels too, "The Day I Picked up Dazai” was also published in the same way, thanks to the efforts of all parties involved in the Bungou Stray Dogs series.
It is the story of Dazai and Odasaku’s first meeting, where Dazai who wants to die, collapsed in front of Odasaku’s place, who is neither a mafioso nor a hit man.
Why are there two different stores, Side A and Sode B? Regarding this question, please read the novel and see for yourself. If you keep in mind that this is the bonus for the BEAST movie, I think you will be able to understand it better.
Let me reminisce a little bit here.
This story was actually suggested to me by Igarashi Takuya, Director of the Bungou Stray Dogs anime.
Shortly before BEAST movie premiered, I was struggling. It was because I was asked to write a bonus novel for movie-goers again. I said “again” because, as I mentioned earlier, BEAST itself was a bonus novel for the Bungou Stray Dogs DEAD APPLE movie. I remembered having a hard time writing it, because I let myself run wild and wrote a total of 190 pages instead of 50 pages as requested.
But I had learnt my lesson after the last rampage. I can’t just write whatever I want anymore. I have to wrap the story in a reasonable length, like a pro should do.
A proper, professional story.
Huh?
My pen stopped right there. I stopped, looked around, feeling lost.
What is a proper story?
The act of writing novel is quite different in character compared to other types of media such as writing manga, anime scripts, or game scenarios. You can say it is almost a different thing. Writing novels, rather than narrating an event, is more like putting the flow of emotions into specific sentences. You use the sequence of letters to create rhythms, create flows, and create emotions. If anything, it might be closer to composing a song than writing a story.
Therefore, you have to decide “what kind of emotion will be put in this novel” from the very beginning, or you can’t start writing. That is the only and absolute rule.
Now, however, that is where the condition of a “proper story” hung over me.
A proper novel, of a proper volume, with a proper content for a bonus.
In other words, a proper emotion.
I searched through the drawers inside my head. For a proper emotion that is waiting to be brought out.
There was nothing but emptiness there.
A professional story teller is one with the skill to move the readers’ emotions. When people find the chance to move their own emotions, they will happily be paying for it. Human-being is that kind of creature.
And writers are ones who create and sell those kinds of emotions: the fear, the excitement, the heart throb etc., those that make you think. It is that kind of job.
It is supposed to be that kind of job.
Yet I became unable to move forward.
A good story is a story that moves people. I know that. Then what kind of emotion I should put in the story to make it "proper"?
How do I find that emotion?
I mean, how did I even write novels until now?
I stood still. My legs stiffened, my knees froze, unable to take even a step forward.
I then tried to at least pretend that I was moving forward, by listening to music, by taking a walk around the neighborhood at night. But as good as the night breeze felt, I didn’t manage to reach a single story that I needed to write.
What if I stayed like this forever, what would I do?
I felt a chill plunging into my back.
Then I realized, that stories, or probably emotions too, are not things you can search for or come up with. You have no choice but to patiently wait for it to come your way. You have no choice but to humbly and earnestly sit and wait for the story’s visit.
I got that, but the "proper 50-page story” still refused to come.
It was not long before one week passed. Then two weeks.
I was doing other work, while keeping my heart’s door open, waiting for the story to come to me.
At that time, I had an online meeting with the anime staff. I casually asked Director Igarashi, “Do you have any story you want to see?”
The Director gave it a little thought then told me, "I want to see the story of Dazai and Oda’s encounter”.
At that very moment, the story rushed in through my door, like a bang. I could hear that sound very clearly.
Two stories. Odasaku, and the two Dazais. A story where they met, and a story where they couldn’t meet. A story of gain and a story of loss. If I can portray the gain and loss side by side, the amplitude of the heart will be doubled and rise up in front of us.
That was a momentary event. Rather than pushing my way forward, I felt as if something was pulling my hand. Before I noticed, I have already finished the stories.
I came to realize.
It is not the writer who searches for the story. It is the story that chooses its writer, and at some point it will come our way. A professional writer is no more than someone with the ability to catch that call.
Also, this is the most important thing: there is no such thing as a “proper emotion”. Because after all, the feelings of other people belong to them only. That is why there is no guarantee that a novel can move others “properly”. However, you can move your own emotions. You know what kind of novel can and how it will move you. If you do, you can write just that. That’s the only way. That is the truly professional attitude. That’s what I thought.
Well then.
It is a little bit off topic, but as we are talking about “stories that come our way”, let’s talk about Odasaku’s first-person narrative.
Odasaku is a special character. For me, he is exclusively a novel character, and I have never portrayed him in the manga.
He first appeared as the narrator in “Dazai Osamu and The Dark Era”, then “BEAST” and now this “The Day I Picked up Dazai”. All are novels. That’s why for me, Odasaku doesn’t live inside the pictures, he lives inside the first-person narrative passages.
He is an eccentric guy. Even if you prepare the place and tell him to speak, he won’t speak to you that easily. His way of thinking is rather unique, that if I write his narrative after writing other characters’ first-person narrative, I would stumble for sure. Odasaku doesn’t speak. He just sits there in silence, while I can do nothing but sitting in front of my blank manuscript paper, trying to talk to him, like “What’s up?”, “Here, here”. However, he is a guy who won’t speak when it is not necessary. Sometimes it goes days or even weeks without him saying a word. Why did such a character come to me...?
During such time, there is only one thing I can do. That is, of course, to stay with him, sit patiently, and simply wait.
Finally he will start speaking. In his unique rhythm, word by word. His words have the power to cut through the world from a certain angle. That special cross-section is full of things I have never seen before and it never fails to surprise me.
And then when he finishes telling his story, he will swiftly disappear. To a dark and quiet place somewhere – probably, I can only imagine, somewhere like a bar. He will sit there calmly and keep his own time to himself. After that, it will be hard to call him again. It is a backbreaking task to me, but in the end, that is the type of guy Odasaku is, and if I am allowed to sound self-conscious, that is Odasaku's charm.
This story was written in such a way. There is a chance that he will come back again. And when he does, I will patiently listen to his voice again.
This story was completed and published thanks to the help of many people: in the Bungou Stray Dogs BEAST movie’s Production Committee, the anime staff, Young Ace’s Editorial Department, BEANS Bunko’s Editorial Department, and the many people who were involved in the publication of the book. Thank you very much. It is all thanks to you that the book was published without any problem this time as well.
Well then, see you in the next story.
Asagiri Kafka.
816 notes · View notes
slasher-male-wife · 10 months
Text
Telling slashers you like 'hot old men'
I am an old man lover and enjoyer for life. I love hot old men I hope I become one when I'm older. So what better way then to make a post appreciating all of the hot old men I'm in love with. I know some of these men aren't like super old but it's still kind of old ok? We're talking an age range from 30's-50's. Also this was buried in my drafts since like April.
Includes: Doomhead, The Grabber, Mark Hoffman, Peter Strahm, Hannibal Lecter, and Bo Sinclair
Warnings: Implied kidnapping in The Grabbers section
Doomhead
He honestly thought you said something else when you first said it. You two were watching a movie together and you made a comment on how you love "hot old men".
When he asks you to repeat yourself and you confirm that you said you love hot old men he laughs. He knows he's an older man but you saying that is really funny to him.
"Are you calling me an old man, sugar?" He asks you, pressing a kiss to your cheek. After you clarify you don't mean it in a negative way he just keeps laughing quietly.
He'll bring this up from time to time when he sees fit. He honestly might play up the 'old man' act just to tease you about it even more. But he's not too offended that you said it.
The Grabber
Because you've been behaving well he decided to treat you by giving you a magazine. He sat with you in the basement while you looked through the magazine.
He noticed you lingering on a page for a bit longer than the others. He asks you about why you're still on that page. You chuckle and tell him it's because there's an actor you love on it. "I just love old men." You say casually.
He pauses for a moment before he chuckles himself. He's an older man himself and because of your recent behavior. "Is that why you've been behaving so well for me?" He asks with a smile behind his mask.
Your chuckle and smile in response is all he needs to know. He's going to start subtly showing his age to you more and more. I think he'll try to show off his hands and arms. He's going to be so cocky about this and you'll never hear the end of it.
Mark Hoffman
You and Hoffman are coworkers and you've been dropping hints to him about your attraction to him. Today you were working with Hoffman, looking over some tapes when the discussion of how long you've been in the force came up.
When Hoffman mentioned when he graduated from the police academy and made a comment about how he's old you smiled and said, "Good thing I love old men."
He laughed it off at first then got a little defensive about how he's "not that old". You explained to him that you never meant it to be rude, you just meant to say that you find older men attractive.
He just nodded his head and went back to watching the tape over. But over the next few days he kept thinking about what you said. It's the most outwardly flirty you've been with him before. When he next sees you he asks you out and you accept.
Peter Strahm
You're on a date with him after being introduced to each other by a mutual friend. He took you somewhere nice and he's driving you home. You both feel a strong connection.
He mentions how long he's been working in the FBI and makes a comment about how you must think he's so old. But when you chuckle and tell him "Don't worry, I love old men." He chuckles too.
Peter isn't too much older than you but he still finds your comment funny. He asks you why and when you talk about how older men are more mature, provide stability, and they're just hot, he smiles and puts a hand on your thigh.
He thinks about your comment for awhile after the date. The comment and how well the date went leads him to asking you out again, which you of course say yes to.
Hannibal Lecter
You met Hannibal at an opera and he found you very attractive. He invited you over for dinner later in the week and you accepted. He made sure to make an impressive meal for you, which isn't hard for him to do.
You two start talking over dinner and Hannibal talks about his career as a surgeon then as a psychiatrist. He makes a comment about how you must think he's very old and you reply with, "I don't mind at all. I love old men."
He chuckles and says he's not that old. You tell him you know that but you start talking about how you love a man who looks more mature and has his life well put together.
The dinner goes well and he invites you over again later in the month. But he can't stop thinking about your comment. He knows he's an older man but he doesn't think he's that old. But the comment doesn't get to him too much because you like him anyway.
Bo Sinclair
You're sitting with Bo in his garage while he's working on a car. You're reading an old magazine when you start to giggle. He asks you what's so funny and you talk about how hot this model is.
When you show him the model Bo talks about how he looks pretty old to which you reply with "I love old men." Bo sets down his tool and looks at you.
"Are you saying I'm old, darlin'?" He asks you. You think for a moment before you tell him no. Bo is in his early 30's and you don't really consider that old.
You have to explain to him that by "old men" you mean men in their 40's and above. Bo will tease you about this constantly. Any time you two see an older man, either it being in a movie or a victim he asks you if he's your type.
2K notes · View notes
vxmpyse · 2 months
Text
Miguel O Hara as your husband head cannons!
nsfw and sfw
———————————————Sfw Head cannons
!husband Miguel o Hara who would wake up every morning and never get tired of the view of you sleeping peacefully in that beautiful elegant night dress that showed of each and every one of your curves.
!husband Miguel o Hara who would learn everything about your country and your culture just for you. He would make sure to plans trips to your home country and even cook foods from your country as a surprise.
!husband Miguel o Hara who would randomly take your face in his palms and kiss all over it, never missing a single spot and reminding you of his never ending love for his girl. His world, his princess and his everything.
!husband Miguel o Hara who would always try to spend time with you. Because of his job as spiderman, it was difficult to spend much time with him. Sometimes, he would miss breakfast or dinner or even be gone the whole day because of his duties as spiderman. However !husband Miguel o Hara always made sure to make it up to you. Whether it was taking you out for a romantic date night or staying at home binge watching your favorite movies while stuffing your faces with food, he always made sure to keep you happy.
!husband Miguel o Hara who treats you like a princess, his princess. Thirsty? A full glass of water already on nightstand just for you. Hungry? Say what you want and there he is already on his way making it or ordering it for you. He always makes sure your needs are fulfilled. On your menstrual cycle? He’s already taking the pads/tampons, from the drawer you had, out and handing it to you. While also bringing you a bottle of water and some ibuprofen you may need for cramps. He already is prepared for any mood swings you might have. While you sleep in bed, he’s secretly in the corner store beside your guys apartment, buying a bunch of your favorite chocolate and a large teddy bear which usually ends on the floor from the amount he has bought you so far. At least 50.
!husband Miguel o Hara who immediately uses his watch to create a portal back to you if you need anything while he’s working. For example, one time you were walking on the streets of Nueva York at night after buying some snacks from the deli, a man then suddenly had grabbed you and was threatening you. Miguel almost immediately got a sensation of you in need of help and he, in an instant, dropped everything he was doing and teleported there. Let’s just say, that man didn’t get to see another day of light.
NSFW head cannons
Remember that period head cannon? Let’s not forget he’s a vampire. If your ever horny and in need of his touch while on your period, he wastes no time to spread your legs wide open, pulling down your cute little panties and eating out your pussy like a vampire in need of blood. He licks and swirls his tongue all around your poor swollen clit for hours. And sometimes, if you’re lucky enough, he will not hesitate to finger your tight little hole, overstimulating your poor cute pussy.
Talking about periods, let’s talk about ovulation week. Your most needy week. Miguel’s favorite week. He wastes no time on fucking you when you ask for it. If he’s working, he will most definitely let you sit on his lap but that almost always turn into you riding him. And let’s just say that when your on ovulation week, riding him is like riding a horse. Up and down, taking him in fully. His cock is around 8-9 inches and that’s when it’s soft. When it’s hard, it’s a tremendous 11 inches. Usually you would only be able to take around 6-8 inches but on ovulation week? You were a whole different person, being able to take him balls deep. Each bounce making a plap sound. He would try to focus on his work but each and every bounce just weakened him making him eventually give in and thrust his hips up, making the thrusts deeper and deeper.
!husband Miguel o Hara always makes you cum first before fucking you. He’s always putting you first whether it’s eating you out, or fingering you. But sometimes, he comes home from work and he can’t help it. His cock painfully hard and all he can think about is the feeling of your tight pussy, clenching around his hard needy cock. That doesn’t mean he isn’t gentle with you though. He always makes sure to make sure you don’t feel pain unless, your kinky like that😉
!husband Miguel o Hara who just can’t help himself when you wear those small little skirts that show off your ass and your wet panties. You would be walking around the house, cleaning the counters in the kitchen and there he is behind you. It starts by him wrapping his arms around your waist and mumbling sweet nothings in your ear, to him grinding against you, making you feel the hard erection against your plush thigh, to him already bending you over, your skirt on the floor and your panties to your knees as he fucked you dumb, making you forget about whatever part of the kitchen you were cleaning.
Sometimes when he couldn’t come home from work from too many anomaly reports. And when he was desperate for you, that mostly resulted in phone sex. It would start off with sweet talk and somehow, just 5 minutes later, there the two of you were, guiding each other while lewd noises were heard in the background of each others voice. Miguel was more of a groaner than a moaner and hearing his groans had always sent you over the edge. Each thrust and stroke that was heard through the phone had sent you above.
You cannot tell me Miguel doesn’t have pubic hair. I just know he definitely has a patch of black curly hair just like the hair on his scalp right above his long wand. He definitely has a dad bod too. His cock having multiple bulging veins surrounding it, especially when he was hard. His balls were very heavy, making it almost impossible to hold when you were blowing him.
Miguel was the type of guy that did not give an absolute shit about your body. Thick, skinny, chubby? He will still fuck you dumb. Chubby just means that when you sat on his face it would feel like a marshmallow on his face as he ate you out like a starved man. Skinny just means he could easily change positions with you, turning you in all directions as he fucked you in all holes, making a wet mess. Thick just means mirror sex. Him fucking your tight pussy hard, making you unable to word out anything as the only sounds that came out your mouth were moans and whimpers. He would use one hand to rub your swollen clit with an inhumanly pace and his other hand went to your breasts cupping one while watching the other bounce in the mirror. Overall, Miguel doesn’t care about your body type. He loves you in every form,shape and color.
—————————————————————
I hope yall liked this. It took me a while soo pls don’t let this flop-
438 notes · View notes
tgcg · 4 months
Text
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
ill break your shit adam
warning for adult lang
fuck you adam sandler
youre lucky karkat likes you
stupid fuck sees an amnesiac girl
and asks her can i marry you
that lady got issues mentally
you still down to do shit anally
deplorable zit on the ass of romanza
karkat told me to put that shit in this stanza
do raps even count as having stanzas
slam poetry tyke at preschool im no manza
youd probably jack it to a log with holes if they were wet ones
sitting on that stupid dock with her papa cracking cold ones
piece of shit id push you off that dock and watch you bubbling
kick your ass like her shitty bro failed when you were troubling
penguins dont quack like fucking ducks you dumbass
thats not part of the rap i just think that youre a dumbass
back to the rap sandler i bet you couldnt drop a single bar
too busy picking up stupid women at the stupid women bar
who even let you into hawaii
also did i say karkat liked you i was kidding he wants to kick your heinie
seriously watching that shit again made him start slamming his head into the cushions and screaming i had to pry them out his hands and he almost bit me
sorry i forgot i was rapping again
piece of shit forgot that you can like women while dating other men
still not over that chuck and larry shit adam
if you just said to the gov you were bi you coulda had em
firefighter of the year? well try putting out this heat
karkats gonna beat your ass like you do every night to your meat
gotta ask is this shit wish fulfilment for you
gotta say larry deserved better than you
i could treat him way better than you not in a gay way though
i just mean youre a massive sleaze basically the worlds shittiest bro
back to 50 first dates man sandler your shit is a bore
the stupid bits with schneider got my ass addicted to snore
if i was that stupid walrus id tear your ass to shreds
if i was that penguin i would also tear your ass to shreds
itd be harder but id still do it
bro fuck adam sandler im through it
===
TT: Wow. Bravo, Dave. You've outdone yourself.
TG: i wrote this one exceptionally fucking terrible to represent my inner darkness
TG: i can never unwatch those cinematic fossilized turds theyre like time capsules devoted to everything wrong with america
TG: you dont even understand how egregious that was
TT: I can sense the utter malaise and contempt in every word. It's beautiful.
TT: One particularly interesting point I'd like to make is the fact that you managed to refer to butts in a song about a male target, 10 times in the span of 37 lines. It's not an exorbitant amount, but it appears to be a running theme in your works. Very interesting, if you ask me --
TG: nooooo
TG: nope no
TG: not this shit again
TG: listen one of them is karkats fault
===
CG: ROSE, YOU JUST DON'T FUCKING UNDERSTAND WHAT HE'S DOING HERE AT ALL.
TT: No? Please, enlighten me Karkat.
CG: GLADLY.
CG: HE STARTS OUT WITH THE FRIGGIN WORD "ANAL" PRECEDING ALL OF THE OTHER MENTIONS, OF COURSE IT'S ON PURPOSE. IT INSTILLS THAT IMAGERY IN YOUR NUGBONE THROUGHOUT THE TRACK.
CG: AND YOU MAY HAVE NOTICED A RECURRING USE OF THE WORD "SHIT", IN TANDEM. BOG-STANDARD FOR DAVE, RIGHT? NO! IT'S PART OF THE EFFECT!
CG: MY THESIS: ADAM SANDLER MOVIES ARE PIECES OF ABSOLUTE SHIT AND THE REFERENCES TO WORDS LIKE "LOG" AND "SHIT" AND "ASS" ARE TO INVOKE THE SENSE OF TAKING A MASSIVE DUMP THROUGHOUT THE SPAN OF THE RAP, WHICH BY ALL MEANS WOULD BE AN EQUAL OR GREATER USE OF YOUR TIME THAN WATCHING THOSE MOVIES.
CG: RIGHT, DAVE?
TG: … yeah
TT: Okay, I'm willing to concede to that. On this subject matter, as an avid terrible movie enjoyer, you admittedly know better than myself.
CG: SHOULD KNOW BETTER.
TT: And you love them anyways.
CG: YEAH.
TG: hes right
TG: you hear that shit hes right
TG: fuck death of the author im verifying that interpretation
730 notes · View notes
lvrcpid · 4 months
Text
pyramids. - F.S
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
based on : pyramids by frank ocean.
pairing : farleigh start x nb!reader
warnings : drug usage. swearing. slight ooc farleigh. sexual references. kinda short but i’ll be making a part 2.
notes : oh i am SO BACK. 😛 also i love this movie sm.
Tumblr media
you always knew you’d end up in college. just at least not at oxford. you always read about the school over the years and it seemed too prim and proper for your liking. a true bore of you will. so when you found yourself in the middle of the campus, hearing the commotion of the students around you, you thought to yourself. “what the fuck did i get myself into?”
your parents were well off, upper middle class even. so when you received a letter inviting you to attend oxford, your family forced you to apply and attend the university. you finally said your goodbyes and finally unpacked. the room had a slight chill and was a bit dreary, even further confirming your suspicions. this school was like purgatory.
Tumblr media
the days turned weeks at oxford truly changed your perspective of the entire school. the party life was insane, that’s where you were right now. a party. the music blasted in your ears as the room reeked with the smell of alcohol, cigarettes and weed from here and there. you weren’t exactly sober yourself, having a few drinks you were given by an acquaintance you made over the few weeks.
you held the beer in your hand, walking and slightly pushing people in your way. “excuse me” you mumbled less than pleased at the sight of people completely ignoring your presence. you made one final shove before someone, a boy, swung his head around, cigarette in mouth and said. “are you fucking kidding me?” you weren’t looking where you were going, more so not even paying attention to your drink. when you looked up, the stranger in front of you had beer dripping from his back. “oh shit- man i’m sorry” you said slightly embarrassed, trying to use your jacket to pat the area dry.
“stop just- stop.” you picked up on the fact the stranger was american. it wasn’t foreign to see americans at oxford, you’ve just never actually heard their accents before. “i really am sorry. i wasn’t looking where i was going.” you said, still apologetic and remorseful, still a bit because of the alcohol in your system. “oh whatever it’ll dry- hey i’ve seen you around. you’re that super quiet kid in my literature class. i’m farleigh.” he said, raising his eyebrows in a cocky way and taking a cigarette from his pack. he leaned the pack towards you, offering you one, to which you reject. you want to at least try to live to see 50.
“suit yourself.” he says, looking down at your beer. “i could kill you for messing up my shirt..but i’ll let it slide this time. so, what’s your name mystery person?” he looks down at you. the boy was freakishly tall and now that you’re getting a good look at him. you do recognize his face from your literary class. “y/n.” you said, finishing off your beer. farleigh gave you a look that rocked your world, grabbing your hand and pulling you into the depths of the night.
Tumblr media
from that moment, you and farleigh hit it off. he was a party animal, a wild child and it made your heart race. every moment with farleigh was an adventure. you soon realized farleigh was into hard drugs. what drugs you may ask? cocaine. but that just made the ride even wilder. although the friendship was platonic, you and farleigh always found yourselves entangled in dances only lovers would dream of. sneaking away from class to make out on his bed or even sneaking touches and glances, enough to make the strongest weak in the knees. farleigh was a passionate person, it made your body jelly and your blood run ice cold, but only in secret. to him, you were his secret sin.
one night , weeks after you and farleigh came together. he decides to open up to you. about his mother, his struggles and even his home, saltburn. you were curious about this place. so curious to the point farleigh had to silence you with a kiss. it was late at night and the campus was silent, only the sounds of the wind and trees in the background. “how about this..if you want to…only if you want.-“ he said, on the spur, in the heat of the moment;
“how about you visit saltburn for the summer?”
Tumblr media
part 2 - monster.
609 notes · View notes
moodriingz · 4 months
Text
Met you at the right time | A. Fantilli
Summary | Adam attends reader's concert and fans notice
Pairing | Adam Fantilli x reader
Warning | Gracie Abrams faceclaim!
Author's Note | I cannot thank you all enough for the love on "Into Your Room!" I hope you all had an amazing holiday! I'm currently spending time with family so idk when I'll be able to post next! I also liked the smau format. Please send requests! Enjoy!
Masterlist
y/nupdates
Tumblr media Tumblr media
liked by adamfantilli, user1, user 2 and others
y/nupdates y/n looked so happy at her show last night in Columbus! she wouldn't look away from the vip area!
view all 50 comments
user1 i was there! she was so smiley during Feels Like!
user2 some people on twitter were saying that some of the hockey team was there last night. was there any confirmation?
↳ user1 oh my gosh yes! i thought i saw Adam Fantilli there and maybe some others too
↳ user2 WAIT ADAM JUST LIKED THIS POST?!
yourusername
Tumblr media Tumblr media
liked by adamfantilli, yourbestfriend, luca.fantilli and others
yourusername cbus you give me butterflies 🦋🩵
view all 505 comments
user3 was it because of us or a certain someone in the crowd?
↳ user1 i was looking for these kinds of comments lol
luca.fantilli in case my brother doesn't say it, you're welcome
↳ user2 what does this meannnnnnnn
yourbff I love being your groupie!!
↳ yourusername you're more than that! you're my stagehand!
↳ yourbff yeah ok.
adamfantilli you're always welcome back
kentjohnson.13 my man is blushingggg
↳ user4 this is about adam right?
user4 oh my gosh i want her and adam to get together so baddd
adamfantilli
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
liked by yourusername, g.brindley4, yourbestfriend and others
adamfantilli always tying her shoes
view 220 comments
g.brindley4 did i miss a chapter?
↳ adamfantilli yeah sorry bud
user5 instinct tells me that those are y/n's shoes in the second slide
↳ user6 or maybe you're crazy
yourusername she's very lucky!
↳ adamfantilli she needs to invest in velcro shoes
↳ user1 OH MY GOD IT'S HAPPENING
yourusername
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
liked by adamfantilli, yourbestfriend, kentjohnson.13 and others
yourusername days off
view 467 comments
user1 what movie did you see?
↳ yourusername the new hunger games movie! so good!
kentjohnson.13 keep him in line!
adamfantilli i would hate to be on the receiving end of that glare
↳yourusername 🙄
y/nupdates
Tumblr media Tumblr media
liked by user1, user 3, user 6
y/nupdates y/n and adam at a party recently!
view 20 comments
user1 i'm super happy for her but the second picture looks personal
↳ user 3 yeah I was going to say we should respect their privacy
user6 so cute but you should take these down
yourusername
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
liked by adamfantilli, bluejacketsnhl, yourbestfriend and others
yourusername hard launch? hard launch. 🦋👑🩵
tagged: adamfantilli
view 783 comments
yourbestfriend i thought you got that crown for me?
↳ yourusername i'm sorry adam asked to try it on. you're still my queen i promise
↳ adamfantilli i feel like i'm intruding on something
adamfantilli met you at the right time
↳ user1 stop not him quoting her songssss
↳ yourusername you're so cute
kentjohnson.13 blegh (you guys are very cute)
↳ adamfantilli aw that wasn't too hard was it?
adamfantilli
Tumblr media Tumblr media
liked by yourusername, nhl, bluejacketsnhl and others
adamfantilli nhl awards
tagged: yourusername
view 337 comments
yourusername so proud of you! 🦋🩵
↳ adamfantilli loved having you by my side 🩵
bluejacketsnhl our #1 rookie!
user6 stop they're so cute I can't take it
g.brindley4 dripped out
yourusername
Tumblr media Tumblr media
liked by adamfantilli, yourbestfriend, nhl and others
yourusername rookie of the year 🩵
tagged: adamfantilli
view 465 comments
adamfantilli you mean more than a trophy
↳ yourusername oh you sap
↳ kentjohnson.13 SAP
↳ g.brindley4 SAP
↳ luca.fantilli SAP
user1 i can't get over that i was at the same concert as adam and now they're dating
nhl congrats mr. y/n y/l/n 🦋🩵
↳ adamfantilli ouch
↳ yourusername don't take it personally babe
325 notes · View notes
freyito · 7 months
Text
ᴊᴏʜɴɴʏ ᴄᴀɢᴇ & ᴋᴇɴꜱʜɪ ᴛᴀᴋᴀʜᴀꜱʜɪ + ᴀ ᴛᴏᴜᴄʜ-ꜱᴛᴀʀᴠᴇᴅ ʙᴏʏꜰʀɪᴇɴᴅ
this ones super self-indulgent, simply cause im in a bit of a mood and i need comfort. so why not write little drabbles with my HUSBANDS!!!! sorry im still working on requests! my schedule is packed and thursdays are about the only days i get to myself, so im working on them, i swear!!!
for more context, there's a couple different ways people can be touch-starved and how people react. i know some people seek out touch actively, but im one of the people who has an aversion to it. that's why it's written like the reader doesn't quite enjoy it!
also, this was kind of inspired by Kocham Wolność by Chłopcy z Placu Broni
cw: male reader, just fluff really, bonus, proofread
Tumblr media Tumblr media
-Johnny Cage
Johnny's flashy, touchy, and over-the-top. Of course he is, he has to be. With his status, he wants everyone to know exactly who you are and show you off. You're all his, and only his, and he needs every single one of his fans to know.
So when you shy away from his touch, dodge away from his hand, or even keep your distance the very first time, his heart shatters. He doesn't quite know how to handle it. But he doesn't go with the same approach. He doesn't give up, either.
He's a sucker for physical touch, and if he's denied it, he doesn't know what to do with his hands. He quite literally looks down at them and wonders what he can do.
His first thought is that you dislike him, actually. That you hate him. He has a deep-seated fear of rejection, and for his beloved to turn away from his warmth and love, it stings. He overthinks, and he reacts as such.
Johnny is a 50/50 with being logical. It depends where he is and what environment he is in. However, with love, where he is completely and utterly vulnerable, giving his all to his boyfriend, logic does not take place with his emotions. He does not think that you do not seek the touch he seeks, he craves.
But, before he can let that vile, horrid, agonizing feeling in the back of his throat take hold, there's slight reassurance. A soft gaze that mends his broken heart, if only for a moment. That's when he finally rationalizes.
You don't even need to tell him at that point, he silently understands. Besides, he has other ways he can show his love for you. Spoils you rotten, tells you all he loves about you. See, he can find ways to make up for the lack of physical touch!
Johnny makes sure to ask you before any physical encounter. He asks to hold your hand, asks to hug you, asks to hold you, asks everything. And each time you say yes, he has the biggest grin on his face.
One night, while you two were sitting on the hood of Johnny's car by some cliff,- like those stupid romantic scenes in movies- you lean over to Johnny and rest your head on his shoulder. Your arms are touching, his shoulder provides a comfortable pillow. You feel safe. Gazing at the very few stars scattered in the sky, the night sky's beauty stolen by the city below (and by you, Johnny says). Johnny's beaming. He's trying so hard not to show it, he's trying to act cool. But he can't. He's almost vibrating because of the butterflies in his stomach. He's proud of you, he's in love with you, and god, he's so happy. He leans his head on yours, and whisper all sorts of sweet things, 'I love you', 'You mean so much to me', 'You're the most beautiful man I know', and 'Thank you'.
Tumblr media
-Kenshi Takahashi
Since Kenshi focuses on touch mainly in the relationship, he has to re-evaluate how he goes about this without touch. He doesn't start off with it, like Johnny does. But he slowly builds up to it. And when he tries to place a hand on your shoulder, feeling you completely dodge him almost feels humbling.
He's at a loss. But unlike Johnny, his first thought is the right one. Perhaps you aren't ready, you aren't comfortable. And that's okay. He's going to think of different ways to seek out your affection, even though physical touch is the only way he really understands love.
But, he also understands. He knows what it's like to dislike touch, after years of hollow touch and forced affection. And he understands if you just don't trust him enough, he's empathetic.
He'll wait for you, however long it takes. He isn't afraid to admit it's a bit disheartening, but he understands and he loves you and he will always wait for you. He still cherishes your time together, and it isn't spoiled one bit. Besides, he can tell you just how much he adores you. He doesn't have to rely on touch every time.
Like Johnny, he will always ask. But he does prefer that you make the first move, at that point. Any little touch, he also cherishes. Even if it's your hand accidentally brushing against his while walking. You always catch a small smile from him when that happens.
He's happy as is, really. The lack of physical touch doesn't take away anything from the relationship or from you. Simply basking in your presence is enough for you. He adores you, and he knows you're his as much as he's yours. That understanding is really the only thing he craves in the relationship.
He relishes in every little touch you give him, however. Simply holding hands is the most intimate thing to him. He isn't big on PDA, but he loves holding your hand anywhere in public. Even if Sento offers slight guidance to him, he loves knowing you're there to guide him.
The night you finally initiated contact, he fell deeper in love with you. It was quiet, alone, still. In your room, you lay next to him, simply enjoying the pleasures of the mundane. You reach for his hand, and gently trace the ink on his hands. He's calm, collected, but inside burns a fire so bright, that you can feel his body temperature rise. He slowly turns his hand, opening his palm to you. For a moment, your fingers linger, tracing the creases in his hand, before finally intertwining your fingers with his. He turns his head to you, a soft and inviting small on his face. He breaks the silence, whispering an 'I love you, so much', before the silence lay over you two once more.
Tumblr media
-Bonus! Johnny Cage AND Kenshi Takahashi
They both agree not to smother you and take their time with you and your comfort. Since most dates and activities will always center around all three of you, they're specifically gentle with you, and are rather hands off with both you and each other (as hard as that is for them).
Just because they are comfortable with each other and each other's touch, doesn't mean they are going to flaunt it. Kenshi believes the ideal is to slowly incorporate you into events. To suffocate you with the idea of touch is too much.
And they do just that. Johnny follows Kenshi's lead, really. Neither of them can live without your touch, and the idea of turning you away is a mutual fear.
When you found yourself between Kenshi and Johnny, simply "watching" a movie from Johnny Dearest, you ended up placing your head in Kenshi's lap, and your legs in Johnny's. You were tired, that was all. Just so happens you had the most comfortable men to lay on. Johnny gave Kenshi the most bewildered look, before realizing the man was still blind. But regardless, Kenshi almost shared the sentiment. However, Kenshi didn't waste his chance. He places his hand on your head, scratching at your scalp. While Johnny just revels in the fact that you've finally warmed up to them.
Tumblr media
© freyito, 2024 | masterlist | queue | kofi DO NOT REPOST AS YOUR OWN OR USE FOR AI/AI CHATBOTS.
567 notes · View notes
Text
Some things I’ve noticed on my second viewing of “Five Nights at Freddy’s” (2023)
(Some of these are obvious, don’t @ me, I’m autistic and I had work the day I first watched the film so my brain was all over the place)
Once again, SPOILERS ARE UNDER THE CUT, PLEASE DONT READ IF YOU ARE AVOIDING SPOILERS!!!!
On my first viewing I thought that showing the security guard at the very start loosening the bolts of the chair straps was a fake out to make us believe he’d escape, but actually he loosened the bolts which is how Mike was able to escape later on
Just want to say that the opening credits are fucking cool and I love them so much
In my previous post about things in the FNAF movie, I incorrectly said there was no Golden Freddy - Golden Freddy is in fact in the film, he’s the one who goes to the house/kills Aunt Jane/is in the taxi
Following on from the above point, I said last time that I thought the cupcake was the fifth ghost child but I actually think it’s Golden Freddy to be honest - the blonde girl was obviously Chica, the boy with the bunny ears was Bonnie, the ginger boy was Foxy, and then there was the blonde boy and another boy with a top hat on. I originally thought that the blonde boy who wore the brown shirt was Freddy because he seemed like the leader, but now I’m wondering if the boy with the top hat was Freddy and the leader boy was in fact Golden Freddy (given his blonde hair)? I’m interested to hear what everyone else thinks
This is obvious but the doctor foreshadowed the ending because she told Mike that drawings are powerful tools for children to express things and understand things, and that’s exactly how Abby communicated to the gang at the end that Afton was responsible for their deaths
^side note but as an early years practitioner at a nursery/for preschool children, it’s actually true that pictures are used to help children learn things even before they can read, write or talk. I don’t know, it just interested me to be like “oh yeah that’s true!!”
There was not that much focus on Mike’s dad, like he was seen so briefly compared to his mom, which makes me wonder if there’s something to it that might be revealed in a future film. Like maybe his “dad” isn’t his dad or something? Because in the game canon, William is his father, so… I don’t know. I also saw someone else point out that in the training video Mike watched, there was a man working on the animatronics who maybe looked like the actor playing Mike’s dad, so maybe his dad worked there with the animatronics?
The film appears to be set in 2000; I’m 90% sure the security cam of Mike in the careers office showed the date as being in 2000, but if someone else can clarify or confirm the exact date then that would be great. It would make sense though because Garret presumably went missing around the same time as the ghost kids (in the 80s), so the film being set in the present day (meaning Mike would be in his 50s) would make zero sense. Also the mobile phones/computers all seem like they come from the early 2000s
Someone on Twitter pointed out that one of Abby’s drawings on her wall appeared to be a red airplane, which could just be an indication/foreshadowing of her knowledge of Garret’s disappearance (his toy airplane) but also someone else said it could have been 9/11 which….?!?! If this film is set in 2000, then that’s FUCKED
(I think it’s either a random drawing or to do with Garret’s toy tbh but the idea of her having foresight of 9/11 is fucking horrifying)
I’m still not totally sure which animatronic the gang were going to force Abby into, like it’s one with spring locks and at first I thought it might be Circus Baby but it doesn’t really look like her. It looks almost like a marionette or something? And I mean, yeah, it could be that they changed the design a bit but they literally stayed faithful to the designs of all the animatronics in the series so… you know.
Desperate to know if Matthew Lillard is aware of the fact that his DILF status has been multiplied by one hundred after this film like can someone check in on him and see if he’s alright? 💀 the FNAF girlies fans are frankly RABID about Afton
On that note, I wonder if Josh Hutcherson or Matthew Lillard have ever played any FNAF games, like were they fans before being cast or…? I really wish we could have content of them talking about the film or promoting it, but Hollywood refuses to pay their actors fairly so 🤷‍♀️
Listen, I ADORE both Josh and Matthew anyway but in this film I feel like Matthew especially stood out??? Maybe it’s just the character he’s playing but he ATE this role up (so did Josh but still)
I feel like the springlock scene was actually more terrifying upon a second viewing like at my first one I was like “that’s not as bad as I imagined” but this time I was like “holy shit he’s in agony” like his screams were PAINFUL to listen to
Speaking of painful to listen to, Freddy gave this really guttural and pained roar/scream at one point during the ending and it really made my heart hurt, it’s like the child inside of him was reliving the memory of their murder or something??? I can’t describe it but it was such an intense moment
I honest to god feel like I enjoyed it more on a second viewing and I don’t know why??? Maybe it’s just because the other people in my cinema weren’t laughing every five minutes but still.
I now have the urge to rewatch ALL of Markiplier’s playthroughs of ALL the FNAF games so… yep!
Once again begging for people to talk about FNAF because I’m not the most knowledgable on the series but I do enjoy it!
Tumblr media
408 notes · View notes
blingblong55 · 23 days
Text
This town -Simon "Ghost" Riley
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
pic credits: @ave661 (middle and right)
Based on a request: (Its a long as so I'll link it so you can read the anons idea) Link here ---- F!Reader, childhood!friends, hidden feelings, angst, friends to strangers ---- A/N: Songs that also fit: Too Young- Louis Tomlinson, This Town- Niall Horan, Back to the Old House- The Smiths, Always you-Louis Tomlinson
It's a story to tell over at the old pub you and he used to hang around on the weekends. But how can a man begin to tell the sorrowful story? How can he explain in his bruised hands he holds the locket you gave him when you two were kids? He will maybe ask if this was a curse, the only curse an old soul like his has. 
It could've been something, it would've been something, it should've been beautiful. 
In this world, it was always he and you. Scraping your knees when jumping off the rocks near his home. Playing tag in the street until the moon greeted you and his mother would call his name. It's the kind of beginning all beautiful loves start with. Friends since childhood, went through life together and by 28, he would have proposed to the girl he had loved his whole life, 40s would be of dropping the kids at school, 50s of early retirement and 60s were for the potential grandkids, 70s would've been the stories shared of their early lives.
Would've...what a shit word that became in his life. 
In the teenage years, after you had some glow-up, you became the girl everyone knew. The pretty, popular and funny girl the school knew of. He was the friend of the popular girl, the one people barely noticed or cared for. Simon was the same kid who always had a scar or bruise on his face, compliments from his father. One thing Simon hated more than the bastard of his father was the guy you were with. Bloke knows nothing but how to wank and fuck any living thing, he recalls.
Why were you with such a guy? It was a must. Like those cheesy movies where the pretty girl stays with the popular guy, all for the status of each other. Your feelings weren't real for that guy. He wasn't funny, wasn't smart and he wasn't Simon. The boy you shared a kiss with at age 7 because of an accidental bump whilst running through the grass. 
It was during a small break between classes that you found him drinking water. You smile. He always did look good, even the stupid bruise on his jaw made him look so good. 
"Y/N," he straightens up. "Simon," you smile cheekily. "Oh no, what's that smile for?" He crosses his arms over his chest and you can't help but get lost in his honey eyes. "Well...I was wondering if maybe we can...talk?" You say, unsure of how to word this confession. "Did my mum put you up to this?" 
"No, this is...me just wanting to talk." 
"Go on," his voice softens. Does he always do this for you?
You hesitate, but what is life without words? You breathe in and say, "I like you...there I said it and... don't stay quiet because you know I get nervous and I will continue to just talk and talk and talk and-"
He cuts you off by saying, "I'm sorry, Y/N, I... don't..think..this..well I just don't feel that way for you. We're friends, nothing more," he ends his part of the conversation, pats your back as he walks away and you are left in the corridor of the school alone. 
As Simon walks to his classroom, his heart and mind fight the words that he had just said to you. Why was that mean? Did I even mean to say them? He thinks. 
Graduation happens. You and he never talked after that day. Not even a congrats or a hug, life went on without him in your life. Throughout those last months in school, he felt a feeling of regret when he'd see you with that guys arm around you. He would occasionally walk around the old park just to see if you would still go on your daily walks. 
By the time he was about to leave town, he found himself at the old house. He heard your parents moved to a new part of town, so if this was the last time he heard of you, it better be on his terms. And as he walks through the pavement, he finds himself looking at your window. He leans over a car, lights a cigarette and just waits to see if maybe you or some ghost roamed the home. 
Was it the feeling of losing a friend that hurt or losing his one chance to feel something other than pain and hatred? Maybe it's just nervous, after all, he leaves tomorrow. 
You were both just 16, it was puppy love, nothing would've lasted if he reciprocated those feelings, right?
And if it was, why does he feel some kind of hurt as he packs his bags? Why does he want to run to your new home and call your name? Is there a reason why? It's not love, it can't be love, he thinks. I'm not worthy of that, you've heard my dad, he says out loud. "Simon?" Tommy opens the door. "Tommy, not today," he looks back at his bag. "...Fuck" he whispers. 
It's been a long nineteen years since he last saw you and heard your precious voice laugh at a cheesy joke of his. Nineteen years and the feeling in his chest is still there when he arrives home. Manchester was always home for him, it was the only place he knew best when he came back. 
One day, as he was cleaning his closet, looking for his dog's leash, something fell and hit his head. "What the fu-" he looked down and there it was. 
"Why give me this?" A thirteen-year-old Simon asked you. You smile, "You said you wish you could always be near me so you can feel safe...and since I'm going to my nans for the week, have this locket on you, and I swear I'll be there. Keep it safe, okay?" you kiss his forehead before entering the car. He nods and waves, "Call me, Y/N, please!" he calls out and you nod. "Every day!" you scream out as the car drives further away. 
A smile falls on his silent lips, "...Y/N..." his thumb caresses the design. Once he opens it, he feels as if he is that young again. "Are you still there, Y/N?" He whispers and then, realisation hits. It was never nerves or whatever bullshit he told himself back then, it was love, always has. 
All the dots are connecting. For the past nineteen years, he always had some love or whatever all those hookups and awful relationships were, but never did they stick around. Never did he feel more for them than what he has always felt for you. His cold heart still beating warm when he thinks of you. You are all he has ever known, the smiles, the late-night confessions, stories, the silly inside jokes, the feeling in his chest today. 
He hasn't seen you in years, what if you don't remember him? What if when you see him, your heart doesn't call his name when he screams yours? Will you ever even forgive him? Will you wrap your arms around him and call him home like he has called you? 
He must find you, so he calls and looks for you in every corner of this place. He finds nothing, just more lost hope at every corner he looks into. His heart and mind excited each other at the thought this would be some sappy romance moment. His mind creating a script, all truths, just finding better words to tell you he loves you, loved you the moment you kissed the similar scar on the knee at the park when he cried over the pain. He's loved you from the day he learned to say your name. 
Why does he miss you so much today?
Why must you be the drug his body needs? God does he miss you and your addictive heart. 
He has been around the world, where he could've found a good woman who made him happy but no, his heart has always belonged to one girl. You. 
By the time he gets the street right, he finds you sitting down and as he smiles and nearly runs to you, he stops when he sees this image of you. 
Sitting by the fountain, he sees you and a man. His arms wrap around your body, giving you darling kisses as you chuckle. It was then that Simon Riley knew this was it. He will spend his entire life wandering earth, looking for another soul like yours. You didn't see him of course, your fiance capturing all your attention. Simon was close to not caring and pulling you away from that man, but that would be cruel. And as he tries to make up excuses for this man being near you, he sees the ring. 
Oh...oh you fool, he thinks. 
His heart is near death. It screams your name, trying to find you so it can keep beating but when you don't whisper, Simon nods and lets his heart die. Let it rot, so it can learn its lesson, he thinks. 
It would've never bloomed, Simon and you...right?
It's no use to even go and say hi. The locket that contained your picture was still in his fist. It'll be the last reminder of what was meant to be a life romancing in dark streets through town. 
In his head, the home you dreamed of will forever be just a dream. No four kids, no library, no big kitchen so you and he can dance around at midnight. No you...no him...it'll all be stuck and dead in this town. 
He crossed rivers, mountains, and enemies and survived wounds soldiers like him get, all to come home to you. And all this was for nothing. In his world, he would've married you, given you chubby babies and late Saturday mornings. No gun, no bomb and no other man would've kept him away from you. 
In his mind, he is with you. In his dead heart, he sits by and watches that chubby baby learn to walk. He would've adored seeing you in a white dress, walking to him as he wiped tears away when he d his dream of a perfect life was minutes away from being real. 
What a mess he is as he asks for another drink. A mess he never should have been if he had told you that your name is carved all over his body. 
It was this town that saw him live and it'll be this town that sees him die because if he can't have you, at least he has this place. 
A/N: Remember, I collect tears for potions, so please drop them by for collection, thank you. - The place of tears co.
Tags: @liyanahelena @mangowafflesss @goldenmclaren @ghostslillady @moonsua1 @rvivienner @Krinoid24 @iruzias @frazie99 @idklols @saoirse06 @vampsquerade @Juneonhoth @tiredmetalenthusiast @jinxxangel13 @enarien @Simonssweetgirl @luvecarson @willowaftxn83-87 @ikohniik @nobodys-coffee @strawberrychita @sae1kie @queen-ilmaree @pbcartii @Llelannie @Macnches2 @bbyfimmie @avidreadee123 @talooolaaloolla @skelletonwitch @bittermajesties @Nyx_Flower @honestlyhiswife @who-can-appease-me @ghostwifeyy @konigssultwithghost @kaoyamamegami @beansproutmafia @soapybutt17 @asianbutnotjapanese @a-goose-with-a-knife @foxface013 @sleepyycatt @believeinthefireflies95
217 notes · View notes
prettyboypistol · 7 months
Text
How the TF2 Mercs De-stress/Manage Anger
Scout
Actually a stereotypical movie bad boy about it. Cigarette, batting cage, and punching bags his emotions out. Shouts at people and shoves them out of his way, throat closed up in welled up emotions, his lungs refusing to give him air as the tightness of slamming against the metaphorical wall of frustration feels like it kills him inside. You know what? Being so tired you can barely register the world around? It's better than feeling like an elephant trapped in a jam jar.
Soldier
Works out and represses the expressions unless he's in battle. That's actually where he gets most of his energy. He thinks of all the shit that pissed him off or made him feel small and uses that flicker of rage as the start of the firecracker of a soldier on the field. Doesn't talk about his emotions much and doesn't see any need to. Yeah, a few drinks in and he gets sappy, but that's normal. Anger usually gets metal pipes bent or people's faces bashed in. Usually both.
Pyro
Expresses anger and stress as overexcitabiliy and hyperactivity. A constant overstimulation mode. Referencing the comics, Pyro won't hesitate to kill a bitch knowingly if they are pissed off. They're the reason it's called a "crime of passion". High spikes of anger followed by a low simmer of calmness. Actually pretty good about deep breaths when it comes to mild annoyances or daily stress, but the over the top bullshit absolutely gets an over the top reaction.
Heavy
Intimidation and powerplay is the name of Heavy's game. Sharp glares and a clear body message of "I will snap your spine if you breathe near me." This comes from his time in the gulag, when he had to keep himself and his family safe. Looking murderous when upset had a lot of advantages. When it actually comes to relieving the anger, he's an isolationist. Def thinks over the situation over and over again as he distracts himself with one of his hobbies. Usually not reading because his mind wanders off too much to focus on the pages.
Engineer
Hyperactive workaholic. He locks himself in his workshop and doesn't leave until he makes something either revolutionary or a man made horror you could only fathom in your nightmares. Whatever, he can sell it to the Administrator as a torture device. Who cares. Engie isn't much of a talker so much as he is a ranter. He grumbles and shouts to himself in a one way conversation as he tightens that one bolt that gave him trouble. Only once has he dented one of his sentries with his wrench when the energy was too much to comprehend.
Demoman
As is his usual solution, he drinks. He drinks and he talks. It doesn't matter to who or even if people are with him. Talking and bitching helps him to understand the situation, get his feelings validated, and develop more points of view. If that doesn't work, there's always testing his explosives. That release of emotions as he watches the burn pile explode is cathartic in a way. Pyro usually joins in and watches the fire, giving Demo someone to talk to.
Sniper
Also an isolationist, but you couldn't tell either way unless you pissed him off while talking to him. If it's just him, then you wouldn't even know that motherfucker was milliseconds away from starting a fight. Mutters to himself softly, barely able to hear the words himself as he shoots at sodacans and empty food containers all lined up by his van. Long drives while music plays in the background is one of his guilty pleasures when he can get away with it. If you ask what's bothering him he'll have a 50/50 between shrugging and saying a dismissive "it's nothing, just woke up wrong" or will barely explain it, but get the just of it accurately.
Spy
Tries to work through it physically, not emotionally. Man's has never talked about his emotions in his life and you won't make him start now. Usually very bitchy when something pisses him off, and his weapon of choice is personal insults. It's a funny thing really. He needs to feel superior by putting others down because the anger and stress makes him feel weak. There is only one good way to snap him out of a bad mood: casually praise him. "Nice work, Spy." "I knew I could count on you." "Thanks Spy, you're a lifesaver." Are instant soothers. It's nice to be acknowledged.
Medic
Workaholic worse than Engie. This man is really out here about to create an elderitch horror because he stubbed his toe and spilled his coffee. Strained smiles and snide comments are his language when he's had a bad day. If someone directly irritates him, that man is a solid 6'1 minimum and is built. He will and continue to physically intimidate people. Has violent fantasies as a cope.
415 notes · View notes
mournings-stars · 1 month
Note
i loved the adam with a fat!reader 🥹 so cute, id love to see lucifer with a reader similar? like maybe shorter like him and a bit on the chubby side 🙏
AHHH THATS SO CUTE
imagine you’re like a chef or baker or something, maybe hellborn, maybe a sinner, and you meet him at an event that he’s just required to go to, so he’s staying by the catering tables and just busying himself with food so he doesn’t have to talk to anyone
“i know it’s a buffet, darlin’, but you’re milking my lil’ supply dry.” and imagine you have the cutest lil accent like maybe it’s southern if you’re hellborn or soft, 50’s movie-type transatlantic if you’re a sinner (i kinda wanna write this now actually so tell me what u prefer…)
first he’d look up, just expecting you to be taller than him, but then he’d look down and see you and immediately try to hand his plate back because how could he take your business for granted when you’re standing right in front of his and so sweet… and beautiful — like he’s not blind, he can see that you’re gorgeous. and if he’s honest the food isn’t good enough to get so many plates, but your restaurant would certainly be popular when you’re the precious little face of it
but he has to stop himself because his thoughts are certainly bordering on rude now, so he’s scrambling to apologize like, “i’m sorry — i see why your food’s so popular now, HAHA, you’re gorgeous — i mean, your food is amazing, but—“
“but?” and then he just shuts up. “no keep going, but what, your majesty?” and he is fumbling, because he can’t tell you he thinks the food is mediocre when he’s been shoving it down his throat all night, but then you say, “i know it’s not my best; they had me here last minute, frettin’ over twenty trays each of my best dishes, which can’t be the best if they’re repeated twenty times,” and even though you’re talking on and on, he’s listening and nodding on and on because because you’re just speaking to him so naturally
“am i talking to much?” “yes — i mean, no! i could listen to you talk all night!”
the rest is literally history, like you tell him to come to your restaurant to see what your cooking is really like, and when he finds out its just a small little restaurant with a couple tables and an old kitchen, he’s amazed because it tastes even better than it did at the event
once he decides to ask you out, and he decides quick, he knows he can’t ask you out to eat, or to an event, or to his house, or to the movies, or—
“you wanna get somethin’ to eat sometime?” and you’re literally asking him before he can even think to ask. “maybe you could cook for me?” you suggest slyly and he’s too flustered to say anything so he just nods. “i’ll make sure i dress fancy for you then, majesty.” and this man is MELTING
and if there’s one thing he learns about you that night its that you are not insecure about anything — your first conversation of you doubting your cooking skills might’ve made him think otherwise, but now he knows it’s just not the case
and you have no reason to be insecure; about your cooking, about anything — hell, you look amazing all dolled up just to come to his home for his 8-minute spaghetti… at least he made homemade meatballs. and those were pretty good! you even complimented them, which gave him a very much needed ego boost to get through the night confidently
and when his confidence finally shows, you’re sure he’s what you want, so you don’t bother taking your time with leading up to kisses or anything past that. you take what you want, with permission, and give him what he wants
and he loves it about you, like, you’re so sure of yourself, confident, and carry yourself with so much charm that people just step out of your way, even with your short stature, which he also loves about you — it’s nice having someone shorter around for once, but he’d definitely shape-shift and let himself be shorter than you for a day or so if you wanted
along those lines, he would give you any and everything you wanted. even if you didn’t ask, he’d give it to you — he’ll get you a new restaurant, new equipment, appliances… hell, he’ll even get you a new apartment… that is, if you don’t move in with him
and he would ask, a million times he’d ask because he just loves being with you that much. whenever you come over, or he goes to your place, he’s stuck to you. he watches you cook, helps if you let him — he bakes! he can bake, but of course he finds out you can too, and he insists you’re much better, but you insist that you do it together since this was much less dangerous than letting him rummage through your spice cabinet
if he’s not helping you, he’s hugging you from behind and watching what you do, hands running all over you, feeling the soft plush of your thighs and hips, your stomach, anything you’ll let him touch which he kisses your cheeks and neck and shoulders — literally anything you’ll let him do because he just loves listening to your precious laughter as he loves on you, or your sighs when he marks your neck or shoulder
this man LOVES lying with his head on your lap or in between your thighs. literally anything to do with your thighs or resting his head on your stomach, like, he’s fully back in heaven
he also loves you on top of him, straddling him while you comb your fingers through his hair, legs across his lap as you read, cuddled up to him as you watch a movie or sleep, he can’t get enough of you
and don’t get me started on the nsfw like… head between your legs all fucking day, squeeze his head with your thighs — like actually do it because he will come undone
163 notes · View notes
bratphilia · 6 months
Note
would it be a bother to ask for a fic w a tomboy reader and william afton? ive been on such a kick w william afton x reader fics here since i watched the movie and i love all of them but i am not feminine in the slightest so if you could write one id be so grateful!! and age gap and size difference too would also be sooo 👌👌👌. thank you so much!!!
note ✧.*‎ this was a lil hard for me to write considering im on the girly-er side so if anything looks weird in relation to the premise i apologize in advance!! also so sorry for getting this out a lil later than promised.
pairing ✧.*‎ steve raglan / william afton x reader
cw ✧.*‎ age difference (reader is 18-21, william is 45-50), degrading, spanking, approximately two slaps to the face, blow jobs, rubbing through jeans? idk what to call that, coming in pants (fem)
taglist ✧.*‎ @dilfity
synopsis ✧.*‎ while attending yet another meeting with your career counsellor, he has a few choice of words for you.
jeans (w. afton x reader)
Tumblr media
you sit in mr. raglan's office, trying to sit straight up, legs crossed, not bouncing. he slightly shifts in his chair as he reads your file, moving his spinning chair from side to side, as he mentally scrutinizes your report. it's nerve-wracking. anyone in your shoes would feel this way, but the way he's intently reading over every little detail makes you squirm.
the worst part is, this isn't even the first time you've been in this exact position. it wouldn't be so bad if mr. raglan wasn't such a hard ass on you. always practically demanding answers of why you keep getting let go from the jobs he gives you, criticizing the tiniest details. nothing gets passed this guy, and yet here you are.
(there's something that almost riles you up about the way he talks to you, though. he has a habit of talking with those big hands of his in a way that makes your insides twist.)
"so you sit here in front of me..." he pipes up suddenly, looking at you then lifting a brow, "wearing jeans to a meeting, for christ sake, asking for yet another job, so what? you can get 'let go' again?"
"well, yes," you say, a little dumbstruck at his comment on your attire.
mr. raglan laughs shortly. "i got news for you, kid. people with your kinda track record don't exactly find jobs as easy as you think they do."
you hold back from rolling your eyes. your fists clench at your side angrily. you speak through gritted teeth, "look, i just need a job. i'll take anything, i'm desperate."
"hate to break it to you, but things just don't work like that—"
you've had it. "will you just stop being such an asshole and give me my damn options already?! i didn't come here to be lectured."
you're seething, breathless from your outburst. your heart is pounding but nothing can beat the jaw-slacked look on his face. there's a deafening silence that has you on the edge of your seat. then, shortly, "you come here for advice, and i'm giving it to you."
you want to say something again, you open your mouth to do so, but he raises a hand to silence you promptly. "you said you're desperate, hm? want my real, useful advice?"
you stare at him, not liking the direction of this conversation or his weirdly tone of dripping malice. "get the fuck on your knees then."
it's hot, you'll admit it. and he's the whole package too, total dad-i'd-like-to-fuck and all. this isn't your type of deal, but if he's gonna offer it to you, fuck it, you'll take it. you'll take everything this man gives you. "mr. raglan—" you say, purposefully furrowing your brows, trying to act scandalized for godsake—
"get your ass over here," he scoffs with a roll of his eyes.
you shut up, perking up at that, and make way to the open space between his legs. "look at you, you degenerate thing. on your knees for such a cause."
your head swims and the buzzing between your thighs becomes far too apparent to be ignored. but you're willing to wait for that relief. you part your lips expectantly, hoping he'd get the message to undo his pants and he just laughs at you. "filthy fucking thing wants my cock in her mouth so bad."
"uh-huh," you say, mouth still open.
he does away with all the restraints and guides his cock into your mouth. eagerly, you take him and lick up the underside of his dick, eliciting a groan from him. he makes a fist around your hair and guides your mouth up and down his cock, not caring about what you can and can't take and you fucking love it.
the noises of him hitting your gag reflex is music to the mouth of your ears. the way you push him out only for him to slide back in is truly a marvel. and the grunts, groaning, and degradations that come from him makes you want to take him even faster, more than what your body can handle, and he just laughs it off, commenting on much of an "eager, filthy thing" you are.
when you feel his helping hands thrust your mouth more erratically is when he decides to pull you off. he uses your hair to stand you up and practically shove you against the desk, back facing towards him. you yelp in pain, only adding to the ache in your stomach. he stands to his full height and you gulp. fuck, he's so much bigger than you, of course he can just throw you around like that. when you ask him if you should remove your clothes, he pauses for a moment, thinking. then, mischievously, "no, i want to make good use of those jeans."
curiously, you look back at him, but his fingers are pressing against your clothed pussy. he presses hard, letting the fabric grind on you. "oh, fuck," you moan.
"yeah? you like that?" he asks gruffly, rubbing your clit through your pants from side to side. usually this stimulation wouldn't be enough, but fuck you were so hot for him that you didn't care. "fuckin' dressed like a boy," he scoffs.
tears burn in your eyes, partly from his words, the other part from the stimulation. then he slaps you across the face. "i asked you a fucking question."
"yes!" you cry, moving a hand to rub at your stinging cheek. he grabs your hand and then slaps the other side of your face, just for fun. a few tears slip down your face at his physicality, but doesn't change that fact that you, "love it so much!"
"think you deserve to come?" he asks. "after that shit you pulled. you think you deserve it?"
you sniffle, knowing damn well what his answer's going to be. "well, i don't."
he removes his hands then promptly wipes them on his pants. you sob out, grasping for his hands but he pushes off of you. "you better come back with a better attitude if you expect anything more than what i gave you."
265 notes · View notes
gravehags · 8 months
Text
can't find you in the dark
Pairing: Cardinal Copia x f!Reader (Curator!Reader)
Rating: Mature
Tags: brief Dracopia, both cardinal copia AND reader being awkward little fucking nerds, horror movie discussion, sexy dreams
Words: 1,758
Summary: You've been working at the abbey for three months and there's just something special about the Cardinal. Your subconscious agrees.
a/n: Silly little fic that lets me air out some Dracopia energy while also getting Copia to talk about horror movies. It's my hc that he was practically raised by old horror films from the 50s and 60s on late night tv and he has a special fondness for them. I mean, who else did he learn how to groom his mustache from if not the man, the myth, the legend Vincent Price?
~~~
There was little you loved more than chilly October nights, and your time at the abbey only solidified this. Every night before bed you would open the two leaded glass windows in your room, their diamond panes glittering in the low light from your bedside lamp. You slept best like this, surrounded by cool, fresh air bundled contentedly under your plush duvet.
You’re restless tonight however. Something is amiss.
When you turn over from your side to your back, you see why.
Sitting in partial darkness in the cozy chair of your reading nook is a figure cloaked in shadows. You should feel frightened - should scream for help in the presence of the intruder but something within you tells you one thing.
You know this man.
He leans forward and when you finally glimpse his face, a wave of relief washes over you.
“Cardinal,” you breathe, hand over your heart. “What…what are you doing in here?”
“I had to see you, cara,” he whispers hoarsely, standing as you blush at the nickname. His garb is different from the usual red or black cassock you’ve seen him in - a simple stylized suit - and there is no excess fabric to mask anything. Particularly what is happening at the juncture of his thighs.
You know you’re ogling him as he advances upon your bed but the tight black suit and unusual short bat-like cloak he wears around his shoulders is intriguing, to say the least.
“What is it? Is something wrong?”
You’re fully sat up against the pillows now, hands in your lap when he sits down next to you on the bed.
“Sì,” he murmurs, “dolcezza will you permit me?”
Your heart flutters once more at the endearment he’s never bestowed upon you before tonight. You don’t know what you’re getting yourself into but you give your breathless answer anyway.
“Anything.”
You gasp as he turns to fully face you, and you jump when he places a gloved hand on your belly. His body slides closer even as his hand slides further upwards, pushing you flat against the bed until he is cupping your breast through the thin fabric of your nightgown. You’ve forgotten how to breathe as he caresses you, teasing your nipple into hardness. He moves his face close to yours - so close - and you’re enveloped in the scent of his cologne.
“I need you,” he breathes into your neck. “Please let me. Per favore, permettimi di averti.”
Bringing your hand up to the side of his face, you cup his cheek, thumb running along his neatly trimmed sideburn. He looks desperate, hungry even and so you nod, still unsure of his intentions. Copia lets out a shuddering breath before leaning back down into your neck, lips touching your pulse point. With his hand still resting on your breast, he licks at the skin there, causing you to sigh, before sinking his teeth into the supple skin. You start and begin to panic, but he’s holding you so tenderly, fingers toying with your nipple as he begins to hungrily suck. The pain is gone soon enough and is replaced by the most heady feeling of pleasure. His moans echo in your ears and your hips buck upwards, desperate for friction, all the while he drinks from you. And drinks. Each graze of his sharp teeth and swipe of his tongue against your skin makes you gasp and writhe, cunt throbbing. He doesn’t slow his actions, but you’re content to lay there in his grasp as he drains you of life. Your eyes slip into blackness for a moment before–
Before the blaring of your phone alarm.
God fucking dammit.
You haul yourself out of bed and move through your morning routine as if puppeteered by some higher force - putting no real thought into your actions as you get ready for the day. You’re so consumed by your dream still that you bump into someone in the hallway.
Someone very familiar.
“Signorina! Ah, mi dispiace, I did not see you there.”
His voice finally seems to be the thing that snaps you out of your reverie, and you shake your head.
“Oh, no Cardinal, it's my fault. Head too full, you know?”
He nods and gestures with his head to the towering stack of books balanced in his arms, obscuring his face with only his black biretta peeking out.
“Eh, shall we continue our research from yesterday on that sculpture? In my office?”
Your heart skips a beat at the suggestion of being alone with him and if your response is a tad too eager, he doesn’t notice. Now walking by his side down the hall, you reach for a few of the books from his stack to lighten his load. When you see his face for the first time since your dream last night - handsome and freckled - your face heats up and you quickly look away before he can register the deep flush. You’ve only known him for three months of your life but you’ve come to learn that there is something so very special about him. Maybe someday you’ll tell him he’s the only person who has made the abbey feel like home.
The books are heavy and old, and you’re thankful when the two of you finally reach Copia’s door. Usually he would come to your office adjacent to the library for this kind of research, but you were thankful for his invitation today. As Copia finagles the door handle and swings it open, you’re reminded of why you love this room so much. You’d only been in it a handful of times, brief moments at that, but there is something incredibly charming about it. Bookcases line every bare inch of wall, stuffed to the brim with tomes on everything from Satanic scripture to Catholic iconography. You greatly appreciate the diversity of his collection and for a while now have been working up the courage to ask to borrow some texts. At the center of the room sits his desk - a commanding mahogany thing - with one high-backed chair behind it and one in front. Light filters in from the leaded glass windows alongside one corner of the room, bouncing shadows upwards onto the intricate coffered ceilings. The room suits him incredibly well, and immediately sets you at ease with its warmth.
“Are you going to stand in the doorway all day, signorina?” he teases lightly, setting his stack down on top of his paper-strewn desk before removing his biretta. You loved that silly little hat.
“Yeah, yeah sorry I, uh, didn’t sleep well last night.”
Setting his biretta down on his desk he shuffles over to you, brows knit in concern.
“Are you unwell?” he asks, hesitantly reaching his gloved hands out to you. By the time you’ve worked up the courage to take them in yours, he’s pulling away and you’re kicking yourself.
“No, no. Just…had a weird dream.” You fall silent for a moment as you walk over and take the chair opposite him. “You were in it.”
You’re blurting it out before you can control yourself and immediately swearing loudly and profusely in your head.
He sits down behind his desk and you notice that the tips of his ears are red.
Huh. Cute.
“Yeah uh,” you clear your throat, tapping your fingers against your thigh, “you were a vampire.”
It sounds so stupid right now as it exits your mouth but his head cocks to the side in interest.
“Oh? Un vampiro…was I very dashing?”
The tension you’re feeling is broken by the goofy roguish grin he wears and the way he runs his hand over his silver threaded brown hair. 
“Very. You had a cape and everything.”
His grin becomes wider. “You know as a child, I watched many old horror movies. I wanted to be Dracula but ah…was never quite smooth enough, hmm?”
“Hmm instead you’ve turned into Vincent Price, which one can argue is far more attractive. Don’t get me wrong, I adore Bela Lugosi but there’s just something about Vincent.”
What the actual fuck is wrong with you today and the way you’re running your mouth? You’re about to blurt out an apology, an explanation, anything when he smooths his leather clad fingers over his mustache, cheeks aflame.
“Eh, you…you think so?”
Double or nothing. “Absolutely.”
“Bella signorina,” he murmurs, avoiding your gaze. “You are far too kind to this old cardinal.”
You think back to your dream, the way his hand cradled your breast as he lapped at your neck. The way your cunt positively ached even after you woke up. You swallow thickly.
“Have you ever, uh. Have you ever seen Nosferatu?”
“Which one?” he replies without skipping a beat. “Murnau or Herzog?”
Now that gives you butterflies in your stomach and makes the edges of your lips curl.
“Both, but for these purposes Herzog. That movie has such a dreamlike quality to it. Kinski portrays him with such sadness. Anyway, that’s the kind of vampire you were like in my dream.”
You pull a large book from the stack on the desk and begin busying yourself with note taking while he processes what you just said.
“Herzog’s Nosferatu is eh…far more erotic. Wouldn’t you agree?”
All the color drains from your face and your hand stills mid-page turn. When you finally work up the courage to respond, your voice is hoarse.
“Y-yes. Uh yeah most definitely.”
“Particularly the way he feeds on Lucy, sì? Caressing her, intimately exploring her.”
His head is cocked and he’s not looking at you, clearly lost in his own thoughts about the film. That’s the only reason you know he’s not tormenting you on purpose with this line of questioning and observation. His hand is under his chin, elbow propped on the desk. The morning light casts shadows on his dramatic profile, illuminating the freckles dusted over his cheekbones and you have to pinch yourself from sighing at the sight.
“Ah, anyway!” he announces suddenly, slapping the leather clad palms of his hands on the surface of his desk. “We have much work to do, signorina. Perhaps if you’ll join me for lunch, we could eh. Continue our conversation? About horror movies, that is.” Now he’s the one blushing, hands fidgeting with the corners of his biretta as he casts you a shy glance.
Wow, you think to yourself, he sure is something.
“Definitely,” you say with an encouraging smile. “It’s a date.”
Your wording makes him choke inelegantly on his own spit as you smile beatifically at him.
Lovely.
196 notes · View notes
chaithetics · 11 months
Note
i absolutely adore your stewy fic and have re-read it 50 times already 😭😭 would love a small sequel based on the 9th episode of him supporting the reader during the funeral and butting in to defend her/hold when she breaks down without caring about what other think, im not kidding when i say i’ve read it 50 times i can’t believe i’ve found a fic this good that’s touched the part of my brain obsessed with stewy and starches it to well i adore you
Don't Let Me Go
Tumblr media
Pairing: Stewy Hosseini x f (Roy) Reader
Word count: 2.9K
Author's note: THANK YOU SO MUCH NONNIE! I ADORE AND LOVE YOU! Every time I think about this request or read it, I'm kicking my feet and twirling my hair. This is so sweet and just the highest praise ever! WOW. I appreciate you, it was so sweet and I really hope you enjoy this! Please let me know what you think and feel free to message me! I love grief-related shows/movies (I love to be in my feels) so this was quite the interesting one. I apologise for any sadness this fic causes. I have more requests that aren't sad dw! Always open to Stewy requests as well. This can be read as a stand-alone/sequel to Furtive Hands. This also HAS NOT BEEN PROOFREAD lol. I hope you enjoy :)
Chapter/content warning: established/secret relationship, GRIEF, GRIEF, funeral, some fluff but just funeral grief and supportive Stewy.
The last week had been miserable, there was no other way to describe it or to do it justice. It should be raining, that would make sense for the funeral of such a commanding and depressing man, there also should’ve been thunder and lightning. Now that would’ve done justice for the thunderous man that your father was but maybe there was no thunder in the sky because it all left with him. 
You’re sitting in the backseat of the car with Shiv right in front of you as you wait for your brothers, both of the Roy daughters are dressed head to toe in black and a fine picture of grief. You’d gladly taken the backseat, it was worth the small risk of motion sickness, it meant it would be easier to distance yourself from any potential, yet inevitable drama. 
Shiv had a glassy expression that was hard to read, you picked up that there was something there that wasn’t just grief. You sat up a bit and leaned over closer, so your arms were resting on the back of her seat. 
“Are you okay?” You asked softly. 
Shiv’s head quickly turned to look at you, grief was there, some unshed tears in her eyes and she looked like a deer in headlights. Her lip trembled for a second and then she sighed and her blue eyes pierced yours. 
“Full disclosure…?” 
“Go.” You immediately replied and Shiv’s body moved more into your direction. 
“I really uh, fucked things up… Ken found out and Mencken, well he’s a form of stabbing a knife in return.” She breathed out and her eyes quickly left yours as she looked down at her body. “And I’m fucking pregnant, I-I told Tom and well he thought it was a fucking tactic.” She humourlessly chuckles as her eyes move to focus on the ceiling of the car. 
“Holy shit, Shiv.” You moved closer off your seat to rest your head on the top of the back of the seat dividing you two and put your hands out to hold hers, squeezing them softly and doing your best to genuinely smile for her. “I’m sorry, that’s a fucking lot. But congratulations! Congratulations? Should I be saying congratulations? If not we can go and sort it out, I’ll go with you if you want. Anything you need.” 
Shiv nodded as she kept her hand in yours and used her free hand to rub at her face a little. “I thought about it but I’m going to keep it. It’s fine. Thank you though. I’m planning to tell mom and that today so yeah.” 
“Thanks for telling me.” You responded giving her hand another squeeze and she nodded. After a few seconds, she let go of your hand and turned back around in her seat and not long after that your brothers joined you both. 
*******************
It had been an awkward car ride, you’d sunk into your seat, looking out the window as Roman and Shiv argued. You didn’t say a word, Kendall had eventually intervened and called for a truce which was agreed upon. Kendall had discussed Rava leaving the city with the kids which you thought was justified and you struggled to not call Kendall out, having to bite your tongue and fully focus your gaze on the windows. Right now was not the right time for sibling arguments. You’re sure that Kendall saw your pointed expression before looking out the window again. 
This had been tougher than you’d imagined. Roman had immediately broken during the speech, everything that hadn’t come out of him did then. Kendall had taken over, with a speech that had been well received but genuinely made you uncomfortable. Ever since you’d all sat down you’d been close to Roman, one hand gently on his back and the other hand holding his, he had a tight grip on it but he was doing slightly better now. Well, he was visibly. 
Each sentence that comes out of your sibling’s mouths feels like a blow and the casket is haunting you. Not as much as Roman though you suppose, if he wasn’t firmly planted onto the pew and with a pale, iron grip on your hands you thought you’d maybe float away. Or maybe you’d just sink down with the pressure of all the eyes, tears and smirks. 
As Shiv speaks, you know she’s right, her words about being his daughter have never been easy and it’s starting to get hot. Too hot. Sure there are hundreds of people in the church but it’s too hot even with that, you’re starting to overheat and your thoughts are overcrowding your brain. 
You look at Roman, your hand on his back and your other one holding his hand. You bite your lip, trying to force tears not to come. Unsuccessfully though. 
“I’m sorry, yeah, um I’m sorry Rome.” You let go of his hand and quickly move to squeeze past Connor and Willa in the pew. 
All of their eyes follow you in concern, you start to fidget with the corner of your sleeve while trying to regulate your breathing as you walk off to the side of the Church. You don’t know where to go, it doesn’t feel like anywhere is an option but it feels like you just need to leave. Anywhere but here, home or any place that’s ever had that title. Your mind is racing with that train of thought and another million ones, none are easier than the last though. It’s becoming overwhelming,  impossible. Your heart is beating so fast you can hear it and you can feel it beating so quickly it’s trying to carve itself out of your chest. It’s all so claustrophobic.  
An arm grabs you and you turn around to see that it’s Connor. 
“Hey, hey. Are you okay?” 
“It’s just a lot, I don’t think I can be- I don’t really want to be in here right now.” You quietly say, trying not to choke on the inevitable sobs. 
“Hey, it’s okay.” 
Connor’s gaze is focused on you and it’s gentle. Which somehow feels more intense, it amplifies the feeling of being under a microscope. You tug at your sleeve again as you feel the tears starting to get worse, you try to bite your lip as tightly as possible to stop the incoming sobs from arriving, to distract from the emotional pain with something physical. 
It doesn’t work though. 
You start to step away from Connor as your crying can now be heard, Roman stays frozen in the pew still trying to find some of his abandoned composure. Kendall’s noticed that this isn’t a toilet break and that Connor’s intervention isn’t cutting it and starts to make his way over. 
Kendall quickly realises that he’s not the only one who’s noticed and who is making their way over. Kendall’s compassion for you is still somewhat intact but today, controlling the narrative and putting out fires is his priority. 
“Stew, go. People are going to talk.” Kendall sternly whispers with a disappointed look, doing his best to communicate his point without drawing anymore attention to the scene. 
“Let them talk, I don’t fucking care Ken.” Stewy spits out with widened eyes. 
“You don’t want this story to break today, trust me.” 
“If it broke today it would drown in the rest of the funeral, Roman and the fucking GoJo numbers. You know that. Everybody does, it’s why Shiv and Matsson leaked it today.” 
“Follow the money back to your fucking seat.” 
“The money isn’t my priority here. She’s my partner.” Stewy says, Kendall scoffs and they both quietly walk over towards you and Connor. But you’ve been too overwhelmed to have noticed any of that interaction or them joining you and Connor in your weird corner towards the back of the church. 
“I need to- it’s so hot in here. It’s really fucking crowded, I know that you want a good turn out at a funeral but this is- it’s so unnecessary you know?” You cry out rambling and Connor’s concern shows more. You hadn’t publicly broken over your father’s death yet and Connor hadn’t seen you cry since you were a child. 
“Yeah, sure. Sure. A lot of people”
“It’s just so hot in here. I need cold air. Maybe some wine? Do you think there’s uh w-wine around? It’s a church, there’s bound to be wine, it’s Catholic- Holy Communion and all… Fuck.” 
“I don’t think there’s wine here you can drink.” Connor’s voice breaks a little.  
“I can’t do this, I don’t want to be in here. Connor please? Just I don’t know- I don’t fucking know.” You sob out and the tears and sobs just don’t stop. Connor puts his arms around you and does his best to keep some composure for your sake. 
Kendall and Stewy have now come over, Connor’s arms are still around you but you feel a hand on your back. One that rubs a little circle and you recognise that little pattern, the pressure, the touch itself. 
“Stewy?” You whisper out between a little sob.
“Hey, sweetheart.” His voice is soft and gentle as he continues to rub your back like he has a dozen times over the last several days. 
“I just- uh. I just, it’s so hot and claustrophobic. I needed air.” You’ve now left Connor’s arms to press yourself into Stewy’s side, his arms quickly replacing Connor’s as they wrap around you. You’re too overwhelmed to even consider or worry that your tears and makeup might be rubbing on his blazer. 
“I know.” 
Kendall is standing in an attempt to shield the rest of the world from this interaction, Connor’s hand is on your shoulder now. Stewy looks at Connor, tilting his head slightly towards you. Stewy smiles at Connor and nods, silently communicating that it’s okay and Connor can go back, which he does after squeezing your shoulder softly. 
“Can we- can- I need to go outside. I need air.” You muffle into Stewy’s side. Kendall pointedly looks at Stewy. 
“I know baby, I know. But there’s a lot of people outside still and cameras still.” Stewy says, as he rubs at your back comfortingly. Stewy isn’t worried about people seeing you both out there but about people seeing you in this state and it being immortalised in the media. 
“Fuck.” You mutter and the sobs become louder, more painful and desperate. 
You knew today would be hard, nothing was easy with your father. But you didn’t expect today to be so awful and to feel so trapped, he was gone, you shouldn’t feel like this but you just felt vulnerable, like the defenseless kid you were trapped in your childhood. Under a microscope for hundreds to zoom in on your pain, today wasn’t suffering just for your father’s amusement. 
“Yeah. We can get some air at the cemetery and take the long way back to the reception? Stop off somewhere if you want?” He asks softly. 
“We all came together-” Kendall starts. 
“I know-” Stewy quietly interjects. 
“I think I’ll go with Stewy, Ken.” You say quietly, you peek out a little from Stewy, puffy faced and wet with tears. Kendall doesn’t look super impressed at that, you can tell but he just gives a small nod.
There’s something about Stewy, his mere presence is a salve on your soul. Being buried into his side, being able to try focusing on the scent of his cologne instead of everyone and everything else is helping you remember how to breathe again. Your lungs remember how it all works again with Stewy at your side. 
“Do you want to sit down again before it ends?” Stewy gently inquires now that he’s noticed that your breathing is a bit more normal and the sobbing is more contained.  
“Sit with me?” Stewy nods. Kendall scoffs quietly but audibly and takes one of your hands and walks back to the front row pew of Roys, Stewy’s hand is gently on your back as he follows. You sit at the furthest end from Kendall, sandwiched between Willa and Stewy. Willa offers you a small but gentle smile and you press into Stewy’s side as he holds your hand in his. 
“Snot siblings.” Roman says as he finally looks at you, leaning across to give you a tissue. “Courtesy of the old Gerr-bear.” He adds as he refuses to look at the woman behind him. 
“Oh, thank you.” You whisper quietly and he nods looking away, just across from him. 
You’re aware that there’s more attention on you now over your little breakdown and at the development of Stewy coming over and then being at the front Roy children pew, Willa’s there of course but not even Tom or Rava are. You can tell Stewy’s aware of this as well as you look at his handsome side profile, he notices you staring and smiles at you, his arm around you squeezes you softly and he brings the hand of yours that he’s been holding in his lap up for a soft, sweet kiss. 
“Just breathe.” He whispers quietly as your hand in his goes back into his lap. You take a deep breathe, even consumed in your grief and the horror of this day you are so grateful for him. 
Despite the context, there is something freeing and peaceful about that. Being able to hold your hand in front of hundreds of people, kiss it and sit next to you. Stewy feels it deeply in his soul and while you perhaps can’t appreciate that right now, you can feel it too. 
****************
You didn’t stay to receive condolences like Kendall did. You immediately left with Stewy, ignoring the pointed and curious looks from everyone as he had an arm around you as you both quickly walked, he held the door open for you and you both sat in the backseat. 
As soon as you both were in and that door closed, you couldn’t help it. You just started crying. It was so overwhelming. 
“Hey, hey baby.” Stewy whispered into your hair as he pulled you tightly into him, he pressed some soft kisses to the top of your head. “I’ve got you.” He said softly. He was so soft with you today. But Stewy was always soft with you. 
Stewy held you tightly for the rest of the drive and when the car got to the cemetery you tilted your head, so you were still pressed against his chest and looked up. 
“Everybody knows now.” He wasn’t sure if it was a question or a statement, it was a fact either way. 
“Yeah-” 
“Are you okay with that? I’m sorry-” You asked quietly, letting out a little hiccup. Tears still in your eyes. 
“I don’t fucking care who knows. I love you. You baby. The whole world can know and there’s a lot going on today, I think this will be the least of anybody’s concerns or key takeaways. I just care about you.” 
You lean up to give him a soft kiss on the lips, which he eagerly but gently returns. 
“I love you too.” 
“That always helps.” He says and you let out a dry chuckle at that, as you bite your lip looking out the tinted window. “Should we try one of those exercises?” 
“Exercises? I don’t think we can fuck in your car at the cemetery when everyone is here to dispose of my dad-” You say with another dry laugh but some more tears come to stain your cheeks. 
“No, no, no baby.” Stewy chuckles and flashes you a charming smile. “Those like grounding, breathing, you’re an amazing professional ones? Oh the colour one! Um, what’s something purple you can see?” 
You look at Stewy in awe of his sweetness despite the douchey exterior most have to deal with. Your eyes briefly skim around the car and the sea of people in black outside. 
“We’re at a funeral, everyone’s wearing black… Where’s the purple Stewy?” You ask in a tone as teasing as possible but a small sob comes out of you. 
“Well you know I have nothing against outfit repeating but I’d worn a purple blazer to the wake- that wasn’t even a week ago baby. There’s a line, and it would’ve crossed the line. With the turtleneck and trousers and a purple blazer it would’ve looked like I was wearing the same outfit. I can’t do that, not in a week, let alone for two death-related events. People would know.” Stewy rambles on. 
You can’t help but laugh at his ramble, only he would be acutely aware of that and have considered this all in great detail. You laugh into his blazer and nod. He wears a large smile on his face as he notices that this seems to have cheered you up somewhat. There’s still tears but that’s to be expected, he’s just glad that there’s somehow some smiles and laughs in there as well. 
You press yourself into him tightly, inhaling his comforting scent and presence. “Don’t let me go. Not out there, in here. Ever, please.” 
“I’d never dream of it, baby..” Stewy says softly as he presses a kiss into your head and then you both leave the car holding hands.
358 notes · View notes