#STEWY MAKES AN APPEARANCE | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

violentdelightsandviolentends · 1 year

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Clandestine.

You and Stewy know it’s wrong. So why, pray tell, does it feel so right?

Part Two. Part Three.

Pairing - Stewy Hosseini x female Roy reader

Age Rating - 18+

Warnings - Cursing, allusions to sexual content

Word Count - 1.5k

Author's Note - in honour of stewy's beautiful appearance in episode 2, please enjoy this!! hoping and praying we get to see a hell of a lot more of him this season <3

Series Masterlist.

Masterlist. Requests.

You’re bored.

To the outside eye, life as a Roy is a dream. Money, cars, designer clothes, big fancy galas filled to the brim with millionaires. It sounds ideal.

It isn’t. Between family drama, backstabbing and betrayal, and directionless small talk, being the youngest Roy sibling is a stifling job. But someone has to do it. Heavy is the head that wears the crown.

Tonight, you find yourself at another Waystar Royco charity gala. The ballroom downtown sparkles with diamonds, champagne flowing and expensive perfume overwhelming. It’s another mandatory job on your list. Attend, smile, wave, make polite conversation, rinse rich men for their money and leave. Simple.

Or so you thought.

You arrived with Roman and Kendall, the both of them immediately separating and making their way to friends and business partners, leaving you stood alone. Fingertips brush the skin of your back that’s exposed by your dress, sending a shiver down your spine.

You smell him before he enters your eyeline. He smells like vanilla and sandalwood. He smells expensive. Not the faux, gawdy expensive like most men in the room, but genuinely luxurious. His cologne makes you dizzy. You reach out and hold onto the edge of the table in front of you before you lose your balance.

You feel him before you turn around. He’s warm, and broad, and the crisp white material of his dress shirt is pressing into you. You gasp quietly at his boldness, praying that no one sees the youngest Roy so close to a sworn enemy.

Stewy Hosseini.

Kendall’s third oldest friend. Both a rival and an asset to your family. One of the biggest assholes in New York City.

The man you’re hopelessly in love with.

✵ ✵ ·　 ✵ 　　 * · ✵

You honestly hadn’t meant for it to go this far.

Originally, it was sex. Brilliant, mind blowing, earth shattering sex.

Until it wasn’t.

Now, it’s late night phone calls and clandestine meetings and holding hands and apartment hunting and kisses on the forehead. Now, it’s real. It’s become something undeniable.

They’d kill you if they knew.

They’d murder you both. You’d be shunned. Stewy would be dropped and cut from Waystar Royco like he never meant anything in the first place. Your inheritance would be taken away, all Roy privileges revoked.

Basically, it’d be hell. So why do you keep finding yourself considering it?

You’ve never been loved like this. So total, so complete, so all consuming. So unconditional. It’s no secret that the Roy siblings are strangers to love. But not anymore.

Now, you know love. You wake up to love and kiss him on the small patch of skin on his cheek where his beard won’t grow. You dance with love in the kitchen, allowing him to spin you around in your socks, catching you when you slip. You see love across the boardroom, communicating with him silently, having full conversations with just your eyes.

They can deny it all they want, but you know the truth. This is what love is supposed to be. They’re scared of it because it’s unfamiliar. It isn’t material. They’re terrified of love because they can’t touch it, or mould it, or manipulate it. They’re petrified.

You ran into love headfirst, unwittingly. Would you have slept with Stewy that night, well over a year ago, if you’d have known this is how it’d turn out? You’re not sure, honestly. But all you know is that no matter what they say when they inevitably find out, none of it matters. Love is real. And it is astounding.

✵ ✵ ·　 ✵ 　　 * · ✵

“You with me, sweetheart?” he murmurs into your ear, warm breath raising the hairs on your neck.

“Yeah, baby,” you mutter back, attempting to keep a neutral expression on your face. “I’m here.”

“Where did you go, huh?”

His fingers journey down, brushing over your ass. He gives it a squeeze before stroking it up your hip, resting his hand on your waist.

“Just daydreaming,” you reply.

“About what?” he asks teasingly, caressing your skin in gentle motions. Back, forth. Back, forth. He’s making it hard to concentrate.

“You,” you whisper quietly. He hears you loud and clear. “Always you.”

He wants to kiss you. God, he wants to kiss you. He wants to grab your face and smash his lips to yours, consequences be damned. He wants to pick you up and twirl you around and scream “look at the woman I love!”.

Instead, his fingers tighten on your waist. He looks around carefully before leaning in and pressing a gentle kiss to the spot just below your ear. Then, he moves to stand in front of you. To anyone else, it looks like two old friends having a conversation.

“You look so fuckin’ beautiful in that dress,” he tells you, his voice laced with sincerity and admiration. His eyes are raking up and down your frame. The heat of his gaze is making you warm.

“You don’t look so bad yourself, Hosseini,” you tease. That’s an understatement. His suit fits him like a glove, perfectly tailored to all of his curves. It’s all crisp edges and careful lines. He’s wearing the cufflinks you got him for his birthday, the ones engraved with the both of your initials. The letters are small, tucked away on the underside. No one knows they’re there – your little secret.

Stewy winks at you and goes to take a step forward, but a hand on his arm stops him. A gorgeous woman with flowing brown hair and a silk gown appears at his side, smiling at you politely before turning to him.

“There’s a couple of guys over there asking where you are. They want to talk about the Williams deal.”

He gives you a look drenched in apology before allowing himself to be dragged away. He takes all of the warmth with him, leaving you stood in the ballroom, cold and alone.

✵ ✵ ·　 ✵ 　　 * · ✵

You knew he was bringing a date. It’d been a point of discussion the night before.

“We have to keep up appearances, Stewy. It makes sense. I know it doesn’t mean anything, okay. I’m not worried,” you reassure him, carding your hands through his hair. He’s lying with his head in your lap on his couch, eyes closed and brows scrunched. You smooth your thumb over the crease in his forehead, before kissing the spot gently.

“I know. Fuck, I know,” he sighs defeatedly. The idea of having some random supermodel on his arm at the gala is killing him. What he wouldn’t do for it to be you.

“It’s only one night, baby,” you soothe gently. “I’ll come back here afterwards. It’ll be a couple of hours at most. You know people are going to talk if Stewy Hosseini, the most eligible bachelor of New York, turns up without a date.”

He chuckles heartily, and the vibrations settle in your bones.

“One night,” he agrees. “Just one night.”

With that, he sits up, cradling your face in his hands. He kisses you softly, carefully. He’s so tender with you. No one else in the world gets to see him like this. No one else gets to see him vulnerable. He likes it that way. You do too.

✵ ✵ ·　 ✵ 　　 * · ✵

There’s a pull between you and Stewy. It’s like a magnetic force, dragging you together no matter where you are, or what you’re doing. You feel it in the monotonous board meetings. You feel it at the family events he’s reluctantly invited to by Kendall. You feel it now, as you float around the ballroom, praying for the night to be over.

You allow your mind to drift away, dreaming of what awaits you later tonight. You can picture it perfectly. You and Stewy, curled up in bed, his penthouse bedroom illuminated by candlelight. Glasses of wine discarded on the night stand, sheets thrown across the mattress, legs tangled together. Skin pressed to skin, warmth seeping into your bones. Gentle melodies filling the room, the man underneath you humming softly into your ear. This is heaven, you’ll think. Bury us like this, please.

You can feel when his eyes are on you. Heat prickles over your skin, goosebumps rising. It’s become like a sixth sense, this silent communication between you. You catch his gaze and wink, and you swear you see him blush slightly. He runs his tongue over his bottom lip, and nods in the direction of the door. You get the hint, and follow him, trailingly behind subtly.

You reach the hallway and look around, but Stewy is nowhere to be seen. Suddenly, you feel a warm grip grab your hips, pressing you into the wall.

“Been waiting to get my hands on you all night,” he murmurs into your ear lowly.

He’s trailing his fingers up and down your sides. You can feel him, hot and hard behind you, groaning as he bites at your throat. He kisses the hinge of your jaw, and then your cheek. It’s forbidden and it’s sexy and it’s so gentle it makes your knees wobble.

“Come home with me,” he begs. “Let’s blow this off and get out of here.”

The offer is tempting. So, so tempting. But you know people would put the pieces together. Stewy leaves, you leave… suspicions arise. As easy as it would be to just say fuck it and tell everyone, you want to keep this a secret for a little longer. You want to stay in this little bubble of warmth and love and trust a little longer. You want to stay happy a little longer.

“We can’t,” you whine. “They’ll notice.”

“I don’t give a fuck,” he replies. “You shouldn’t either.”

You want to disagree, but the way he’s moved his hand to sit at your throat while pressing himself into you is making it hard to think.

“Live a little, baby,” he teases, nipping at your ear.

“Fine! Fuck, fine. Let’s go before I change my mind.”

He grabs your hand, giddy smile etched on his face. He’s practically running with you to his car, dress flowing in the breeze behind you, heels clacking against the marble floors. You tumble into the backseats, his lips pressed to yours as you make your way home. Home.

✵ ✵ ·　 ✵ 　　 * · ✵

Knock. Knock. Knock.

Your eyes blink open, sunlight streaming through the sheer curtains. You’re resting comfortably on Stewy’s chest, both of his strong arms wrapped around you. You yawn sleepily, wondering what’s awoken you.

Knock. Knock. Knock.

Oh. That. You check the clock on the nightstand, realising that it’s only 7am. On a Saturday. Who’s knocking on the door at 7am on a Saturday morning?

Knock. Knock. Knock.

Fuck, is the noise getting louder? You nudge Stewy carefully, waking him.

“There’s someone banging on your door,” you whisper.

He groans and untangles his legs from yours. He throws on a pair of boxers, and moves to investigate the source of the knocking. You listen intently, curious to know who’s trying to gain Stewy’s attention so determinedly.

The door swings open.

“Ken?” Stewy questions, and you can almost hear the fear in his voice.

“Hey, man. Where the fuck is my sister?”

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eeveebitches · 9 months

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bathroom. || Kendall Roy || smut

Pairing: Dom!Kendall Roy x F!Sub!Reader

Summary: You're Roman's assistant, at a launch party Kendall invited you to. Stuff happens along the way that you're sure would get you fired.

Word count: 3.794

18+ only! More under the cut,

Warning(s): SMUT, aka 18+ only! Dom Kendall, implied one-sided attraction from roman, bathroom sex, fingering, p in v, sexual tension, stewy makes a cameo

A/n: this is based on a request i got! :DD

_______________________

It’s a cold night, and Kendall is standing in front of you.

You don't know Kendall that long, but there's a clear twinkle in his eyes that shines with deviancy as he greets you. Even in the darkness of the New York street, you can see a glimmer that simply can't be usual. His smile is something you'd consider overly excited, and his short hair is slightly ruffled. You look him up and down, taking note of his casual appearance. "Hey hey heyy, there's my girl," he says with a wide grin.

He goes in for a side-hug, which you lean into with a smile. You don't expect him to speak as close to your ear as he does as he tells you, "I'm really fucking happy you could make it," so you can't help but shiver as his breath fans against your ear. Kendall pulls away from the hug, immediately searching for eye contact as he keeps grinning at you. "You know I'm never one to say no to a good party," you chuckle, letting him lead you from the street into the building.

It's some random start-up party, and Kendall had asked Roman to invite you, so now here you are. You aren't completely sure why he'd invite you, though.

You guessed it was because of Kendall's strange need for validation, and somehow him having a lot of 'friends' validated him. Not like you're complaining-- the white mini dress you're wearing has been collecting dust in your closet, so you're happy to put it into action.

"I like your, uhh, get-up. Real church girl gone slutty vibes. Fits you," he notes, eyes shamelessly raking over your body. You roll your eyes at him. He's high at most, and strangely giddy at the very least. Whatever he says tonight will not be worth worrying over. "And you look like you're gonna be a guest at Comic-Con," you shoot back as you let him open the door for you.

He ushers you inside with a hearty laugh, casually resting a hand on the small of your back which, surprisingly, you don't hate. "Listen, I know you hate those yuppy-wuppy parties, so I thought this kinda shit would be right up your alley. Good food, free drinks and a DJ that doesn't fucking suck." You hum as you scan the hallway you're standing in. Kendall quickly turns to talk to security, while you quickly grab your phone out of your purse to check your messages.

[ sad victorian puppy ]: Where the fuck are you

[ sad victorian puppy ]: ????????

[ sad victorian puppy ]: Hurry up before I hang myself with the fairy lights

[ sad victorian puppy ]: I'm not joking

[ sad victorian puppy]: I'm doing it right now

"You ready to dazzle loser-y tech bro's?" Your head shoots up from Roman's messages to give Kendall a nod. He yet again casually places his hand on the small of your back, handing you a wristband as he starts explaining random finance shit to you. It's all 'bla bla shareholders, bla bla stakes' to your ears, but you nod along as he bridges into the people he knows at the party.

The main event hall is spacious, fairy lights and plastic vines struggling to make this whole thing feel low-key. With a bar in the corner and a lively dance floor at the very front, you let Kendall lead you through the crowd as he points people out. "That's Shane, nasty fucking guy. His dad got in trouble for insider trading, so he made a jailbreak video game based on him and made bank," he practically giggles into your ear, hand slithering to rest on your side.

The side of his body is flush against yours, and his hot breath fans against your ear with each smart-mouthed remark. There's something promiscuous about it all, and you can't help but lean into his casual touches. "Is that one friend of yours here, too? With the beard and gray streak?"

He raises his brow at you in amusement. "You mean Stewy? Why, d'you wanna fuck him or something?" he asks through a wicked grin. "I barely know him, Ken, and you know I prefer being wined and dined." His eyes crease as his smile grows, curiously watching you. "Uh-huh, sure you do. Miss self-respect over here." You grin as well, walking out of Kendall's hold to disappear into the crowd, making your way to the bar.

Almost immediately you spot Roman, whose deep frown you can see from far as he stares at his phone. "Hiya, Romes."

You didn't mean to startle him, but that doesn't stop you from laughing at him when he jumps up, hissing out a sharp 'Jesus fuck' as he turns to glare at you. "Is this what you've been doing? Haunting this place and scaring people like a fuckin' poltergeist?"

"I mean, I am wearing white," you remark, before quickly ordering a mocktail as you hop onto one of the bar stools. Roman scoffs at you, choosing to simply stand next to your seat and lean against the bar. He seems strangely nervous, something you tell yourself to ask about later.

He slips his phone into his pocket with a huff. "Yeah yeah, whatever, Casper the shitty fuckin' assistant." Your drink slides in front of you, so instead of mustering a quip in reply, you opt to quietly taking a sip. It's surprisingly bitter, but you don't hate it.

From the corner of his eye, Roman carefully watches you. "Y'know, I can see you glaring at me," you mumble against the glass of your drink, smiling at Roman as he straightens his back and clears his throat. "Fuck off, I'm just weirded out by you in a party dress. It's uncanny valley type shit," he says, awkwardly tugging at his own fingers like he's trying to dislocate them.

"I think you're using uncanny valley wrong." With a scoff he turns his entire body to properly glare at you. "I know what uncanny valley is, and you in a dress like this gives off major android vibes. Like the real you has been replaced by a freaky, lookalike sex doll." He pokes your arm as he says it. His face is crinkled in childlike disgust as he watches you take another sip of your drink.

You can tell he doesn't mean it. He knows he doesn't mean it, too, hands fiddling as he fights the urge to touch the fabric of your ivory dress. "Still weird that Kendall wanted you here. Are you fucking him? I'm gonna fire you if you are, because that's, like, reaaally fucking gross," he groans out, continuing his glaring as you nonchalantly finish your drink.

"How about you first ask HR if asking about my love life is appropriate behavior, then I'll tell you all the juicy details." And with that you place your empty glass down and stand up from your seat. You pat Roman's shoulder with a grin. "I'm gonna go socialize, so stay put," you tell him, and while you didn't mean for it to come off as flirtatious, you don't correct yourself when you realize it does.

You maneuver through the hipster ocean, avoiding the guys wearing Rick & Morty shirts with ugly tweed blazers on top who are desperate for a conversation with you. The dance floor is in full swing, something you're sure you wouldn't have seen if you arrived earlier. Kendall had told Roman, who then told you that the later you arrived, the better it'd be.

Speaking of that devil, there Kendall stands, wearing kicks you're sure are worth more than your soul, a casual blazer and a shirt with a minimalist design. He lights up when he sees you, smile reaching to his eyes as he calls you over with a wave. Next to him stands that friend of his, dressed far too formal for the occasion.

He opens his arm, signaling for you to slot against him, which you do with far less hesitance than you'd like to have had. "Had enough of Rome?" he teases, carrying a blissful grin. You ignore the comment, instead focusing on Ken's friend.

"Roman's assistant, right? Haven't seen you since that thing in Florence." You hum in agreement, trying to dredge up his name from your memory. Kendall removes you from his arm to stop a wandering waiter and ask for... something, who knows. "Yeah, you were just as overdressed then as you are now," you reply with a cheeky grin.

What his name was, though, is still on the tip of your tongue. Something with an S, for sure, but the rest of the letters just don't place themselves.

Kendall returns to your side, and quickly whispers in your ear,

"Stewy."

He turns his head to look at you, and as your eyes meet he shoots you a coy grin before turning to, well, Stewy. "Y'know Rome has her write his e-mails? She probably knows more confidential shit than I do at this point." Stewy lets out a small chuckle, clearly looking you up and down. Kendall laughs at that, although there's a sharp tinge to it.

After some small talk between the two men that you simply could not follow for the life of you, Stewy leaves to go to the bathroom, winks and nudges palpable as Ken tells him to have fun.

"So, how're you liking it?" he suddenly asks you as the two of you walk to the couches in the corners of the room. "It's very... trendy." You smile as Kendall huffs out a laugh, the two of you sitting much closer to each other than you really have to be.

His thigh, which is surprisingly firm, is flush against yours. You can feel yourself holding your breath, but you just can't seem to breathe out as Kendall doesn't stop making eye contact. "Yeah, this is some hipster bullshit, I know. Still, the drinks are good, and the catering isn't pathetic."

"I haven't even had the food here yet, is it really not that bad? Those mini sandwiches seemed a bit..." He chuckles at that, nodding his head as his eyes quickly dart around, searching for something.

"Like absolute dog shit, yeah. But I swear it tastes pretty good. Let me go get some for you." You were expecting him to stand up, but instead he waves over a guy most definitely getting paid below minimum wage. "Hey dude, can you get me and the lady some of those mini sandwiches? And some drinks, too."

The waiter scurries off with a nod, so you turn your focus back to Kendall who's simply staring at you. "Seriously, thanks for coming. Not to sound like a sappy loser, but I do appreciate it. You're reliable, that's important shit to me, y'know?"

You smile at Kendall, patting his thigh. "It's no problem, Ken. You're a cool dude," you tell him, which somehow makes his eyes glimmer more than they have been so far. With a bewildered, yet smug look he keeps staring at you. "Good to know you find me cool. You're, uhh, cool too."

His hand goes to lay on top of yours, and suddenly whatever cologne he's been wearing floods your sense of smell. The air becomes heavy, too heavy for you to bear, as he continues looking into your eyes.

But then he squeezes your hand, quickly looks away and lets out a light chuckle. As if on queue, the waiter appears, drinks and ugly sandwiches on a platter. He places them on the table in front of you, then quickly departs.

"Fucking finally," Kendall mumbles, grabbing one of the sandwiches. "Alright, now open up."

"Open up?" He hums, smile growing more and more devious as he taps his mouth. "C'mon, say 'ahh', humor me." You have no reason to go along with it, or him, but something inside of you wants to, so you obediently open your mouth as Kendall plops the sandwich in your mouth.

The tension is palpable, partially because of how intense his eye contact suddenly becomes when you accidentally wrap your lips around his finger for a second as he pulls away. Flustered, you start chewing, letting out a muffled sound of enjoyment as the harmonious flavors spread over your palate.

"Shit, Ken, this is good," you giggle out, hand covering your mouth in a weak attempt at hiding your flustered expression. "Told you, didn't I? You can trust me, y'know."

He takes his own bite of food, as well as a dark blue drink, and he--

"Shit."

You look down at your dress, and all you see is blue.

Kendall spilled his fucking drink.

"Fuck, completely my bad," he hisses out, immediately grabbing you by the arm and leading you to the bathroom. For a split second you think you see Roman watching the two of you, but you don't have much time to dwell on it as you rush to one of the spacious bathrooms and lock the door behind you.

Kendall seems a bit frantic, like cold water was thrown over him, hands shaky as he grabs some paper towels and awkwardly tries to dry you off. "I fucked up, I'm sorry. Did you have a jacket with you, or?"

You simply shake your head no, to which Kendall grimaces. "Send me the cleaning bill for this shit, alright? This is completely my fault," he murmurs. "Ken, it's fine, it's just a drink. It'll wash out by itself."

It definitely won't, but the verbal comfort seems to ease his mind, as he stops wiping. "Yeah, you're, uh, you're right. I can get Jess to go find a jacket for you, it'd be here in like, ten minutes."

Before you can even decline, he walks to the other side of the bathroom, phone held against his ear as he mercilessly calls Jess during a Friday evening. You stare at yourself in the mirror, frowning at the splotch of blue. As you try to tug the dress a bit away from your skin, Ken appears behind you. "You okay?"

"Yeah, it's just really sticky," you groan as you grab another paper towel and struggle to push it in between your dress and your bare skin. "Fuck, this is uncomfortable but, uh... would it be cool for you to zip my dress down a little? So I can actually reach inside my dress."

Your cheeks are hot as you ask him, eyes cast down to the marble floor. He lets out a tense chuckle, stepping close enough to reach your back. "Yeah, of course." You look into the bathroom mirror and watch Kendall as he slowly reaches for the back of your zipper.

His knuckles brush up against your skin as he takes the delicate zipper in between his fingers. Little by little, he pulls it down, watching your face through the mirror. Breathlessly he waits for you to nod, to tell him that it's enough.

But for a reason you could never say out loud, you don't. Instead you watch him zip the dress down, lower and lower until the zipper ends at your waist.

His hands sneak into your now unzipped dress, holding onto your bare hips as he places a careful kiss to the back of your neck. "God, you smell fucking divine," he groans out, covering your neck and back with pecks as he roams your body. The pads of his fingers are rough against your skin, like sandpaper against velvet.

He gropes one of your breasts, breathing in your scent while his other hand traverses lower and lower. The whine you let out as he gently tugs at your nipple is desperate, something he replies to with a simple kiss to your temple. "You gotta be quiet, can you do that for me, sweetheart?"

Before you can even nod, he lunges at you, lips smashing against yours. He doesn't take his time, tugging at your bottom lip as he groans into your mouth. It's like he's trying to ravage you, hands growing rougher in their touch as he drowns in your scent.

You can barely hold back your moans as he consumes your entire being. His hand finds the rim of your panties in no time, and with zero hesitation he pushes two of his fingers against your clit. The small circles he makes send small sparks of delicious electricity through your body. "So wet for me," Kendall whispers against your lips, still watching you through the mirror.

His gaze is hot, burning through your skin and heating you to your bones as he pleasures you. "Ken, please."

He can't stop himself from chuckling at how needy you are. "I kinda always knew your whole put together thing was bullshit. I mean, look at you now," he says, letting out a sharp laugh as you shiver at his words.

"Roman doesn't even know you could be like this, huh? A needy slut fucking her boss's brother in some random bathroom." He doesn't give you any time to respond, his two fingers move from your clit to slip inside of you. Your walls squeeze against his digits as he uses his thumb to keep the pressure on your clit constant.

It's all too much. His filthy words against the shell of your ear as he abuses your cunt, his other hand still busying himself with your nipple. It's hot, and harsh, yet the most satisfying feeling you've had in years.

Not only that, but you can tell how riled up he is, too. Panting, lightly grinding against you, hungrily staring at your reflection. "Fuck-- sit on the sink for me," he groans, removing his fingers. You do as he tells you, whimpering at the sudden emptiness.

He pushes his fingers into your mouth without much warning, but you gladly let him. There's a small part of you, in a very dark corner of your brain, that's cursing you out for being here. For letting him feed you, for letting his hands even graze against you. It's like every moment with him tonight led up to this moment, with you sucking your own juices from Kendall's fingers as he undoes his pants with his other hand.

Kendall pulls his fingers away, wiping your saliva on your exposed thigh. You giggle as he pulls a condom from his pocket, giving him a teasing look. "Prepared, are we?"

He shrugs, expression almost bashful as he carefully rips the foil. "Not gonna lie to you, I got them from Stewy right after you walked away," he chuckles, cheeks raised high as if he's genuinely embarrassed. "I was really hoping for this," he motions between the two of you with a strangely sincere smile, "to happen."

"Stop being a sap and fuck me, Kenny." His head hangs low as he laughs at that, pulling out his cock as casually as one can when getting ready to fuck their brother's assistant in a bathroom. You bite the inside of your cheek raw as you watch him slowly roll the condom down. He lets out a small hiss as he does so, eyebrows furrowing as he gives himself a few loose-handed strokes.

With a gentleness he hadn't shown before, he pushes your thighs apart and your panties down. He looks into your eyes and smiles warily as he lines himself up against your entrance. "Are you okay?"

You roll your eyes at him, and with a burst of sudden confidence you grab him by his hips and push him against you. It takes a small bit of adjusting from Kendall, whose amused grin is, at this point, infectious.

As his cock slowly delves into you, you let out a tandem moan. "So fucking tight," Kendall huffs out, thumb yet again finding your clit as he watches you weakly writhe. "Can you please just move, Ken?"

The laugh he lets out is breathy, but he quickly complies, almost fully removing himself from you before slamming back into you. The pace he sets is brutal, his large hand clutching at your side and his eyes only focused on you. Your dress is clumsily pushed down, letting your tits bounce freely as his every thrust shakes you to your core.

Kendall doesn't relent with his other hand, either. He roughly spits on your sopping wet cunt, thumb gliding over your slick clit with ease. His every move leaves you gasping for air, and if it wasn't for the hand you're using to cover your mouth, you're sure everyone outside would hear you.

"I knew I had to fuck you when I saw you in this dress," he groans out as you shove your head into the crook of his neck, biting on his shoulder to keep your noises unheard. "I don't know how Rome handles having you around, always wearing those tight fucking pencil skirts. I'd bend you down over my desk," he picks up his pace, harshly slamming his cock into you, "and eat your pussy with everyone's watching."

With a particularly hard thrust and his words ricocheting in your head, you fall apart. Your entire body convulses, and everything turns a pure white as you can feel Kendall smash his lips against yours in an attempt to swallow your noise.

His own thrusts grow sloppy, and with a gruff moan he slowly stills his movements. You stay like that for a moment as you come to, his forehead resting against yours. You're both panting, and horribly sweaty, and as you slowly open your eyes the first thing you notice is the blue on your dress. Ken follows your line of sight, letting out a weak chuckle.

"We, uh, still haven't fixed that."

The two of you share a laugh, before he slowly pulls himself. You pull your panties up as he busies himself with discarding the condom and tucking himself back into his pants, hissing at the cold sensation of your cooled down slick. "Hey, didn't you call Jess or something?" you mutter, more to yourself than to him as he helps you zip your dress back up. "Yeah, she's probably been waiting."

"Poor Jess." Kendall heartily laughs at your sympathy. "I just gave you a mind-blowing fuck, and you're worrying about her?"

You shrug, shooting Kendall a small smile as you fix yourself up a bit in the mirror. Ken wraps an arm around your waist as he stands besides you. "So what happened to being wined and dined? Or is that still on the table," he asks through a brash grin.

"Stop being a smart ass and ask me on a date like a normal rich guy."

"Rich guys don't do dates," he jokes as he unlocks the bathroom, arm still around your waist since your legs are wobbling,

"they fuck assistants in bathrooms."

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neos-schlond-poofa · 5 months

Text

The Parallels of Resident Lover

It is common knowledge within the Resident Lover fandom that there are many parallels in the game, namely Miranda and Bela. However. I am here to tell you there is a much more extreme and serious parallel, one that no one else has pointed out before.

Alcina Dimitrescu and Lois Griffin are parallels of each other. I know, I know, your mind MIGHT be blown right now, to the point where you don't get it. But do not fret, fellow Resident Lovers, for I am here to elaborate on the truth.

EXHIBIT A: APPEARANCES

It is no secret that both Alcina and Lois are, well, attractive. Lois Griffin is consistently called one of the hottest mothers in animation, while Alcina has a fanbase of dedicated people purely because of her appearance. These two ladies are naturally attractive; some people even call them MILFS. It's not just how hot the two are; they have different little things scattered throughout that are obviously meant to mirror each other. Lois has bright red lipstick, referencing her still mainly happy attitude, while Alcina has dark red lipstick, highlighting the dark secrets she holds. They both have earings; the earrings that Lois wears are much more modest, as she is a simple housewife that doesn't want to show off, while Alcina is rich and always ready to stun. They both wear pants. They both have short hair, representing their bold and headstrong attitudes, and it is styled in such a classy manner that upon seeing them, you know they will not mess around. Alcina is also canonically in her mid 40s, while Lois is 44.

Exhibit B: Parenthood

It can be argued that Alcina and Lois aren't the best mothers. And for the most part, neither of them even realize their faults. Furthermore, their children are all parallels of each other.

Bela and Chris - Blonde

Dani and Meg - Obvious Least Favorite

Cass and Stewie - Gays with a flair for the dramatic and their own silly best friends; Cass has Elena while Stewie has Rupert

This obviously it not a coincidence. The RL team is dedicated to making sure everything has meaning, including the own family dynamics present in their families.

Lois wasn't always a terrible mother. In early seasons, she could even be considered a good mother, even if she was sometimes a bit selfish. This is just like Alcina, but instead of it being early in the game, it is the interpretation of Alcina put in by the developers. Alcina being a bad mom in contrast to her amazing parenting skills in the original game is meant to specifically reference Lois randomly becoming a terrible mother.

Exhibit C: Their Own Families

Alcina and Lois both come from rich and powerful families. Alcina is from the Dimitrescu bloodline, while Lois is from the Pewterschmidt bloodline. Through their families, they both have a lot of money and property. Alcina most notably owns the manor present in the game and a castle, while Lois once inherits her aunt's mansion in the season 2 premiere, "Peter, Peter, Caviar Eater." While Lois opts to have a much more quiet and normal life, her family's worth can not be ignored. Having Alcina actively embrace the wealth her family brings contrasts Lois in such a stark way. After all, to be a parallel doesn't mean to be a carbon copy. They are not equal triangles; they are congruent.

Additionally, they both have odd brothers that they do not make much reference to and prefer to forget. Lois has Patrick and Alcina has Karl. One important thing to note is that Patrick's original voice actor was Robert Downey Jr. whilst Karl's last name is Heisenberg, the alias of Walter White. Who else is in the TV show of Walter White which is called Breaking Bad? Krysten Ritter, who plays Jessica Jones in the MCU. You see, it is easily all connected if you just take your thinking caps and your magnifying glass and look a bit close at the context clues.

Exhibit D: A Love For The Arts

What is Alcina and Lois, without their love for the arts? It is no secret that Alcina is a connoisseur of arts. She even teaches Women in Art at the university. She lives for art, and even expects her children to be the same way. Meanwhile, while it is less obvious for Lois, she is easily a huge fan of art. The biggest example is in the season 2 episode, "The King Is Dead," where she is committed to having the perfect play and gets mad when Peter "ruins" it. She appreciates the arts, and to see them be disrespected hurts her. Lois is also a teacher; while she is mainly known for being a housewife, she has had multiple different jobs, including once being a music teacher at school in the episode "Connie's Celica" in season 18 and consistently being a piano teacher throughout the series. Lois is a gifted piano player and is the main aspect of the arts she appreciates. For most people, they associate her piano playing with the opening of the TV Series, which goes from her casually playing the piano to a Broadway style number, which is obviously what inspired the decision to make Cass a theatre kid.

Exhibit E: Jazz Singers

While this may seem very minor, it is not. In the original game, Alcina was previously a jazz singer. Her favorite music genre is definitely jazz and she has a deep love for it. Meanwhile, Lois Griffin occasionally sings jazz throughout the series and the earliest prominent example of this in the series is the season 1 episode, "Mind Over Murder," where she begins to sing at the bar located in the basement of her house. Jazz is integral to Alcina... but would that be so true if Lois was not once a jazz singer? Her interest in jazz only exists because of Lois's connections to jazz as Alcina was directly written to be a parallel of her.

IN CONCLUSION

It is undeniable that Alcina was created to be a direct parallel to Lois Griffin. Her story simply wouldn't have the same emotional impact as it does if not for this. There is so much more that can be expanded upon as well, as I only scratched the surface of their parallels. I would like to thank Seth MacFarlane for making this all possible with the creation of Family Guy, and the Resident Lover Team for creating such a moving story. Truly, we need to stop this talk about the "Miranda and Bela" parallels now that I have revealed the truth. And, of course, you're welcome Resident Lover Team, for finally spreading the truth I know you've deeply been wishing to be discovered. Especially you, @dead-finch-420, mainly because I had to utilize some of your art pieces to make this post explaining what I'm sure you knew as you drew some of these pieces.

#resident lover #resident lover meme #resident evil #resident evil village #re8 village #alcina dimitrescu #lady dimitrescu #lois griffin

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ateotd-izzy · 11 months

Text

lavender haze | stuart twombly x fem!reader

“i feel the lavender haze creeping up on me”

stuart and y/n had been dating for only a few months after accidentally meeting while he was renting a few dvds from where she worked.

“surreal, i’m damned if i do give a damn what people say”

stuart liked keeping his private life, well, private from the others at google. but there wasn’t much he could do when they found out that he had a girlfriend.

“no deal, the 1950s sh*t they want from me”

warnings: swearing, kissing or wtv, nothing too bad

“i just wanna stay in that lavender haze”

☾

“stewie’s got a girlfriend?” nick grinned at him teasingly. “wow. never would’ve guessed.”

“i know, right?” billy, who had been the one to find out and tell the others, grinned. “dark and stormy’s not very dark and stormy anymore.”

“guys, can you just shut up about it now?” stuart asked, turning to face his laptop again. “yes. i have a girlfriend. big deal.”

“this is a big deal, stuart.” billy told him. “do we get to meet her?”

“no.”

“what? never?”

“never.”

“aww.” neha fake-pouted. “anyway, can we get back to work?”

“finally something i agree with.” stuart pointed to her. “back to work.”

“but i would love to meet your girlfriend, stuart.” neha added and he groaned. “do you think she’d follow me on instagram?”

“no. shut up.”

“oh, come on, stuart.” billy laughed as stuart put his headphones on. “don’t be like that.”

“guys, back to work.” lyle ordered and the rest of the group sighed before turning back to their computers.

“how’d you meet your girlfriend, stuart?” yo-yo asked and the room burst into chatter again.

“yeah, how, stuart?” nick asked and stuart rolled his eyes.

“none of your business.” stuart replied, pulling out his phone after it vibrated, indicating he got a text. it was from you.

“you should invite her to tomorrow night, stuart.” billy suggested. “to the par-tay.”

stuart gave billy a weird look. “why?”

“so we can meet her, duh.” neha scoffed.

“no.”

“invite her.” billy ordered.

“no.” stuart shook his head.

“do it. invite her.” nick agreed.

“no.” he spoke more firmly. “i’m not inviting her.”

“hey, babe.” you greeted as stuart appeared in front of the counter as you worked. “what’s up?”

“are you busy tomorrow night?” he asked. straight to the point.

“i shouldn’t be. why?”

stuart sighed. “there’s some work party and everyone in my group wants you to come.”

you smiled. “really?”

“yeah. so, if you want, you can come.” stuart silently prayed you wouldn’t want to go. “you don’t have to.”

“no, it sounds fun. i’ll go.”

“seriously?”

“yeah, why not?”

“nothing. yeah, cool, whatever.” he forced a smile. “see you at my place tonight?”

“yeah, of course.”

“great.” stuart turned around and the smile dropped.

fuck.

he really wanted you to say no.

he could’ve just not brought it up and acted like you weren’t invited, but that would be a horrible thing to do.

he wished he did that.

that was how you ended up at a google work party the next night with stuart, hiding in the corner of the room.

“why can’t i meet your friends?” you asked and stuart frowned.

“because you can’t.” he mumbled, taking a sip of his drink and adjusting the beanie on his head.

if it weren’t casual dress you probably would’ve had to rip the hat from his head to make sure he wouldn’t be wearing it.

“from what you’ve told me they don’t seem bad.” you shrugged and stuart stared at you.

“trust me. they are the worst.”

“are you talking about us, stewie?” nick asked as he approached the two of you, and stuart rolled his eyes and groaned. nick held out his hand to you. “i’m nick.”

“no.” stuart grabbed your hand. “let’s go.”

“oh, come on, stu.” you gave him a look. you shook nick’s hand. “my name’s y/n.”

“it’s a pleasure to finally meet you, y/n.” nick greeted before looking at stuart. “she’s so much nicer than you. where have you been hiding her?”

stuart glared and you chuckled.

“no seriously, how the hell did you get such a nice girlfriend when you’re a massive jerk?” nick asked jokingly. “i’m kidding.”

awkward silence.

“i’ll be back in a second.” stuart mumbled to you. “stay here.”

“where are you going?” you asked stuart while nick wandered off to get another drink.

“just the bathroom.” he told you, pressing a short kiss to your lips. “i’ll be right back.”

“alright then. go.” you pushed him lightly and he kissed you once more before he walked away.

“so, you’re stuart’s girlfriend?”

you turned your head at the voice and were met with a girl around your age.

so when stuart left the bathroom, he found you happily talking with neha patel.

when he appeared at your side again, stuart took your hand in his and you smiled.

“hey.” you looked away from him and went back to your conversation with neha.

stuart stared at the two of you. he didn’t like you talking to neha. he had tried so hard to keep you separate from his work friends.

he knew what they were like. he didn’t want them to be all in your business, or to annoy you too much.

he didn’t want them to scare you off. after all, you had only been dating for three months.

“—alright, thank you, neha.” stuart quickly cut off whatever conversation you were having and tugged on your hand. “we’re gonna go now.”

“what?” you asked, confused. “why?”

he shook his head, gave neha an extremely forced smile and practically pulled you across the room.

“stuart, what the hell is going on with you?” you asked as the two of you left the room and went out into the hallway.

“nothing.”

“bullshit.”

“who have you talked to tonight?”

“why?”

“who?”

“like, five people. nick, billy, neha, lyle and yo-yo.” you counted on your fingers as you listed them. “and billy introduced me to some guy he called chetty, so six.”

“oh, god.” stuart groaned and rubbed his eyes, his hands slipping under his glasses.

“why, stuart? what’s the big deal?” you asked. “why are you being so weird?”

“because they’re so…” stuart sighed. “they act like they need to know everything about everyone and are always trying to know everything about every aspect of my life.”

stuart let go of your hand and instead sat his hands on your waist.

“you’re the one thing i want to keep separate from them. i don’t want them to end up ruining this.” stuart spoke quietly. you brought your hands up to his shoulders. “i love you, y/n.”

that was something new.

you smiled and leaned forward, connecting your lips before pulling away just a second later.

“i love you too, stuart.” you laughed softly against his lips, making him smile, before you leaned into another kiss.

you reached up and pulled the beanie off of his head, running your fingers through his hair after.

“you’ve got to agree that they’re annoying, right?” stuart asked almost immediately after pulling away.

“oh, definitely. i think billy asked me about eight times if we were going to get married.”

stuart laughed a little. “seriously?”

“yeah. they asked so many questions about us.”

the two of you were silent for a moment.

“do you want to go back inside?” he gestured to the doors beside you.

“no.” you answered, wrapping your arms around the back of his neck. “i just want to stay with you.”

“back to my place?” he asked and you nodded.

“of course.”

the two of you headed towards the building’s front doors.

“do you want take-out?”

“it’s, like, midnight.”

“yeah, but do you?”

“yeah.”

stuart chuckled and opened the door for you. “i love you.”

“so you’ve said.” you teased, kissing his cheek. “i love you, too.”

you both walked to the car in silence. hand-in-hand.

taglist: @brvceyamada

a/n: i feel like this is too short or smth, but yay lavender haze

#stuart twombly #stuart twombly x reader #the internship #dylan o’brien x reader #dylan o’brien #teen wolf #stiles stilinski #stiles stilinski x reader #bettyssneaker #the maze runner #taylor swift #midnights #lavender haze

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inknopewetrust · 1 year

Text

𝐔𝐧𝐠𝐥𝐮𝐞𝐝 [𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐤𝐬 𝐭𝐨 𝐲𝐨𝐮]

summary: grief puts those in its grasp in precarious positions: those of loyalty, and those of spite and those with love, well, they flounder amongst the hurt. [WC: 1.8k]

pairing: stewy hosseini x fem!roy!reader

warnings: angst, exes to lovers (potentially!), language, vignette on grief and love lost.

quick links: masterlist [a/n: possibly part I of a small vignette series of stewy and fem!roy reader. thoughts, comments, and reblogs are greatly appreciated!)

Entombed in marble, the note reverberated throughout the church in poetry.

The scaffolding of grief had been built. Sitting in rows for as far as the eye could see, a family rested scorched amidst the sorrow.

You felt like a stranger in the room.

The suddenness of pain revels in the commonality it inflicts. A sweeping, precipitous moment of immense breadth swallowing the weak for what they are: people.

And the people inside that room—ornately defined by cultures and individuals who gave so much to a city where one human can overtake and limit their worth— were flooded by an insurmountable loss that could only be explained by the static of a draining phone and the choppy voice of your sister’s estranged husband.

Those two words, simple, rolling off his tongue with difficulty and a wish that the call would drop and everything would go back to the way it was before he walked away.

“He’s gone.”

The tone in his voice had remained buried in the darkest parts of your mind. You felt as though you could hear it clearly as the small conversations of visitation began to settle and you couldn’t bear to look at the center of the alter.

The sudden ringing in your ears suffused every sense you were able to muster in that moment.

But your ears rung. Manicured hands began to shake and tempted you to stand and run away because grief worked in silly circles. The disbelief that something could occur so quickly, the naivety of realizing that the world was suddenly different than the one that existed before, and the pain of faltering to the idea that even if he was Satan, he was still your father and grief felt indebted to it.

It was lonely, grief.

Even while hundreds of people spoke of their condolences, loneliness of death weaved itself into your bones and pulled you underneath the surface where bubbles of hope had long ceased. Everyone from Gerri to Colin to Frank to Karl, each face with the same look staring into your eyes with a pity you asked not for but knew belonged in your heart all the same meant little when the world felt tipped on its axis.

And for the cruelty of the man, it was difficult to understand.

Kendall was holding his life together by a thin and shallow thread and remained so as the priest wallowed on about the supposed amazing man Logan Roy was.

But even with an estranged family, Kendall was never as lonely as he appeared to be. He wasn’t like you. You, left alone to fiddle with your hands as Shiv sat without Tom and Roman sat beside Conner and Willa. The paper between your fingers became crinkled—the only partner you had in a moment like this.

And how you wished it wasn’t the case. You wished you weren’t some lonely pretender who sat sorrowful at a wretched man’s funeral but there you were... strangely obliterated by the idea that life can turn in an instant and the Aeneas of an institution can vanish without so much as a goodbye.

It felt comical and tragic at the same time—the poets of civilizations past would be aching to tell a story such as that.

And Kendall had reiterated such on that fateful day on the yacht because those who would write biographies were watching. Those who would ultimately shake their heads and scoff at the compounding confusion of losing a belligerent soul and making it appear as though a Saint had passed.

Whatever was to be done in the moments following the death of the patriarch, history would be watching. As much as you hated the idea of history looming over the raincloud high above you, he was right. The institution built by Logan Roy did not need to be littered with the historical fact of the middle, forgotten child losing their sanity at his funeral due to loneliness that had, in truth, nothing to do with Logan dying but the unity death brought with it.

However, you could argue, Logan was the crux of that loneliness. He had fostered it, just as well as your mother had when she left the four of you to fend for yourself against the vultures. Now Conner, Kendall, Roman, and Shiv all bask in that same attitude as if was normal to be a carbon copy of the most antithetical person to ever exist.

You hated that being in the room; sharing the same last name, and sitting beside them meant you were likely no different.

And that is why you could never have what the world granted everyone else: happiness.

Loneliness was the path of salvation for those with the last name of Roy. Happiness, or love, whichever one truly came from the actions that preceded it had become foreign for decades of the power hungry struggle of men and women before you.

It radiated throughout the room like Godzilla’s goddamn rays when the priest had ushered his final prayers and you couldn’t even put your hands together and bow. Beside Kendall, Shiv had extended her palm to rest on top of his as they prayed like the good servants of God they were, and you wished someone had sat beside you and done the same even for split second. Conner had Willa, Shiv still had Tom in the small capacity that she did, and Roman was so beside himself with romance that even he couldn’t admit that he needed someone too.

How you ached for a hand to grace yours; how you yearned for someone to place an enduring kiss on your temple and say that they loved you even if you couldn’t believe the truth behind it.

So the loneliness of that vacancy simmers.

The cynical heart hears the organs begin to play and your siblings rose from their seats as it was time to pretend that you enjoyed the service and you wanted the sympathy of others as they shook your hand and gave you hugs outside of the church. But you didn’t want those hugs. You didn’t want those hands.

You wanted one hug. You wanted one pair of hands. You wanted one sympathetic moment and one sympathetic kiss and pretend, for one simple moment, that nothing had changed.

Dad wasn’t dead. Waystar wasn’t floundering in a shallow grave and the maggots of sheep herding to its demise wasn’t going to come next. Sorrow didn’t exist. You weren’t alone—hadn’t been alone.

Across the aisle, donning a black overcoat and three-piece-suit, the simple moment waited. There was little that could have been done feeling maimed by actions unseen but it had been five months of radio silence between you both. One car ride home and the whole thing imploded like a fucking rocket ship.

The congregation stood in solemn stature as the row of family filed out first. Kendall, followed by his small brood, then you.

You took one last look at the coffin that held the once formidable Logan Roy.

Flowers resting on the top, the flag of Scotland draped over it.

For a man so powerful, the weakness of death was hard to ignore. Wilting away in a box for the rest of eternity while the world continued to spin without him. And yet, there in that room and within your own heart and mind, Logan Roy was twisting a footprint of pain deeper than it had before.

Dad died without anyone truly loving him.

You did not want to die like your dad.

Stewy Hosseini was a lifeline. He was a chameleon of couture culture and finessed fashion but within the idealized image of an investor, there was a man who cared for the people who couldn’t say the word ‘love’ or ask for help when they needed it.

Stewy Hosseini was a good man wrapped up in a world that had people one step from going over the ledge but always looked for a solution to solve it. He was a good friend of Kendall even if the stubborn prick never noticed it when it mattered. He was a charming bastard who did lines in public restrooms and put his feet on conference tables during important meetings.

He was the only one to say what he meant without ever getting burned by it but left you shriveling to ash in the corner.

Stewy Hosseini was that solitary hope.

As you looked away from your father's casket, you were frightened by the realization that what was once an outlet for relief had become something to depend on. That five months of absent feelings created a void of indescribable pain that found an outlet in your father’s demise.

You weren’t lonely, no. You were filled with a love that shouldn’t exist with someone who shouldn’t have looked at you the way he did and the yearning for comfort only exacerbated the want.

Maybe he should have taken the deal on Paxos. Maybe he should have said yes, that the package that was tied with a perfect little string matched the black little box that sat in the drawer beside the bed but he didn't.

As you turned toward the aisle to follow the precession, you couldn’t even get your eyes to cast forward because he was right there. Across the way and a row down beside Sandy in his wheelchair and Sandi in her Hillary Clinton pantsuit.

You clutched the program tightly in your hand. Lip trembling, you watched your feet take you away and there was a second in time where you were alone before another hand inched its way into your palm and around your hand.

Some people would never know the absence of love.

They would be grown into it with a kind mother and good family that loved her because they were an innocent child who was not afraid of being the hand that met a lonesome one in the middle of a grand church.

Shiv’s hand crept into yours as the memories of Ewan’s harshness, Kendall’s stoniness, and her fierceness waddled to the background.

Her eyes met yours and for a minute of the day, you felt seen.

And down the aisle, Stewy wished it was his hand comforting your own.

One where he could trace a finger over yours and feel the ring that was supposed to sit there. He could hear the Phantom in that cathedral now:

'You've been asking me for three fuckin' years son so yeah, I'll even throw in my goddamn blessing if that makes you so fucking happy.'

Maybe he should have said yes and everything would be different.

But a Roy would always swallow their pride in moments of need and Stewy Hosseini would always chase the money. There were moments before: a bliss, a fight, a phone call. And then there were moments after: a funeral, a short escape, and a board meeting. But the seconds that lingered in between those events were always shroud in the belief in the former:

A Roy was a Roy, and a Roy never floundered until it was too late.

comments, thoughts, and reblogs are always appreciated. thank you for taking the time to read my lil 'ol fic.

Tagged: @mini-ranger @prettybirdi

#x reader #stewy hosseini x reader #stewy hosseini #stewy hosseini x you #stewy hosseini x fem reader #succession #stewy succession #fanfic #fanfiction #x female reader #fanfic writing #fic #one shot

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chaithetics · 1 year

Note

I love your writing so much and looking forward to more of your Stewy work!!! Can’t wait ! ❤️

Chance Meetings

Pairing: Stewy Hosseini x f Roy reader

Word count: 1.8K

Content warning: mentions of drug use/addiction, some flirting fluff.

authors note: hasn't been proofread, ended up not being the biggest fan of this one but maybe others will hopefully enjoy it. It's how the original idea of Roy reader and Stewy getting together started and then went along. Shout out to a previous nonnie for the berry idea, it'll definitely make more appearances in the future. I know the show itself has a very loose/not super defined timeline other than the fourth season but this is set before the show starts FYI :)

Also thank you Elle! That's so kind of you, I hope you enjoy this and future pieces! There's more coming!

You’d done the un-Roy thing as much as you could for a significant part of your life, you didn’t go to business school, you went to grad school to become a clinical psychologist. Like Connor, you didn’t do the college to living in New York and working at Waystar or a linked profession pipeline.

You didn’t necessarily think of yourself as the California girl, you certainly weren’t the poster child for that. But after graduating you’d moved to San Francisco and had practiced there. It was the perfect antithesis of the life in New York that your siblings were living that you had no interest in.

Well, it had been.

You’d recently left that life for one in New York. Kendall had been going through the wringer lately. It was just over a week ago since he’d left rehab and his marriage with Rava was falling apart. You knew that Rava couldn’t be his only support system, it wasn’t realistic or fair and you frankly didn’t trust your family to be in Kendall’s corner.

You were heading up to Kendall’s apartment to check in on him and to prepare for a night that would be awful. You’d been able to skip out on these types of events for most of your adult life but Kendall felt an obligation to attend in an attempt to try and get into your father’s graces. You were going with Kendall as moral support to an entitled gala that Waystar was funding.

“Wow, Dr. Roy, look at you. What a pleasure to have you amongst the green-eyed capitalists.”

You turned your head in the direction of the voice, you’d recognise that playful tone anywhere, it was Stewy Hosseini. You hadn’t seen him in a few years but as always, he was in a suit tailored perfectly for him and he looked gorgeous.

“Well, I can’t really say anything with a biting wit, can I? I’m here and I benefit from it all anyway.” You respond looking at his amused gaze, it’s not cruel but it’s like he knows something you don’t.

“Yeah but you look great though. You do benefit from it, I mean, look at the blood from the human sacrifices in your father’s honour. They’re keeping you young, treating your face and figure well.” He has a smirk on his face as he speaks and you chuckle. His brow furrows slightly and his tone becomes serious. “Wait, wait a second.” Stewy wets his thumb with his tongue somewhat dramatically but still realistically as he wipes at something on your chin.

“Wait, what is it? How long was it there for?” You immediately ask, embarrassed that there was probably a mark of lipstick or maybe food there. Although the gentle touch of his thumb on your chin makes you relax for some reason.

“Just a bit of a blood splatter from the sacrifices. I’m sure it wasn’t there long.” Stewy saws moving his hand away and chuckling, you scoff.

“Wow, smooth.” You respond and his smirk just grows. “Well, looking pretty dapper yourself Hosseini.”

“Oh, I know.”

“Oh?”

“Yeah, I know you think I look hot.” Stewy says so confidently, you look at him incredulously for a second but end up smirking, he’s being as playful as ever but he doesn’t seem high.

“Cocky as ever.”

“Just a fact.” You look at Stewy’s face, he’s being his usual playful self but there’s a gentleness there, something in his eyes that you’re not sure you’ve seen before. You look into his eyes and for a moment think about Kendall, he’s been in the bathroom longer than you’d like.

You’re tempted to go into the men’s room yourself but you know that Kendall wouldn’t appreciate that if nothing was going on. You focus back on Stewy’s eyes, he’s always had gorgeous, warm brown eyes. They’re not dramatically blown out, diluted. You’re more confident that he’s not high. You put a hand gently on his arm.

“Stewy?” His smirk fades a bit as he takes in your more serious tone and expression.

“Yeah?”

“Can you do me a favour?” “Of course.”

“Can you um, Kendall’s in the uh bathroom… He’s been in there for a while.” You say quietly. He gives you a small smile and nods.

“Yeah, of course.” Your hand is still on his arm, he looks at it briefly and smiles at the touch, he places his hand briefly on the small of your waist for a comforting second as he walks off to check on Kendall.

You watch Stewy as he walks off and you feel a little anxious. Kendall had been gone for a few minutes and you know that you can’t be a helicopter sister but you do worry about him at an event like this.

After a few moments you see Kendall and Stewy coming out of the bathroom making their way over to where you stand. You feel a flood of relief, Kendall looks depressed still but he doesn’t look high.

“Hey Ken.” You give him a small hug and look at his face, trying to search his eyes.

“I didn’t, just the mirror cry.” He says dryly, knowing what you’re searching for in him. Stewy looks at you with a sad nod to confirm and mouths he’s good. You give Stewy a grateful smile then redirect your attention to Kendall again and nod with a smile.

“Do you wanna go home?” You ask, your brother looks exhausted. “We’ve been here long enough, dad’s seen you. You’ve talked to people. It’s already been a long night.” You continue knowing that if he wants to he’ll need validation to feel okay about it.

“Uh yeah, sure.” He says looking down. “Thanks Stewy.” Stewy just gently claps him on the back and nods.

“I can stay with you tonight, if you like?” You ask and Kendall nods. You mouth a thank you at Stewy as you and Kendall leave the gala.

As you and Kendall sit in the car you take your heels off.

“Bump into Stewy?” Kendall asks looking at you riredly.

“Uh yeah. He came over for pleasantries before finding you.”

“I don’t think many would associate Stewy with pleasantries.” Kendall says with a small chuckle.

“Sure he’s cocky but he’s always polite.” You reply eying Kendall.

“You know what I meant.” Kendall said.

“Uh-huh.” You laugh a little. “Lot more pleasant than Roman’s friends.”

“I only surround myself with the best company.” Kendall teases, looking a little less down.

“I know, that’s why I’m here. Your favourite sibling.” You tease.

“Don’t tell Shiv that.”

“Never, Kendall Roy.”

*************

You’d stayed the night at Kendall’s bachelor apartment, you’d fallen asleep on the couch and you were now woken up by voices only a few feet away. You looked up and saw Kendall casually dressed and Stewy once again in a well tailored suit, looking devlishly handsome. You’d always known he was attractive but he just seemed to age like a fine wine.

The two men had been standing in the open floor layout talking and then Kendall noticed that you were awake now and that Stewy had also noticed. Kendall quickly realised that Stewy’s gaze had focused on you pretty quickly and Kendall wasn’t sure if he’d seen Stewy ever look at anyone like that.

“Get changed.” Kendall quickly said. Stewy looked at him with raised eyebrows and you looked perplexed.

“Excuse me?” “Get changed. Now. Scoot, scram. We have company.”

You rolled your eyes and got up, Stewy did his best to keep his attention on Kendall and not watch you leave. This wasn’t the first time you’d spent the night at Kendall’s lately so you conveniently had clothes here, hence having slept in nightwear.

When you come back out you can hear the shower going so you assume Stewy has left but you then see Stewy leaning against the kitchen island, scrolling on his phone.

“Morning.” You greet him and he looks up from his phone, placing it down gently. His eyes are even dreamier in daylight than what you remembered.

“Good morning. Oh wow, clothes and underwear. How nice.” He teases.

“I know, a bra with underwire and everything.” You tease back which makes him chuckle dryly.

“I’m a fan with or without the support Dr. Roy.” He says with a wink.

“Somebody’s quite the flirt lately.”

“Always, for you.” You smile at him and walk over to Kendall’s fridge, where there of course is no berries, sighing as soon as you realise. “I didn’t come empty-handed. You walked right past the bagels and smoothies, had to physically restrain your brother from not touching your berry smoothie. You know, it had the most ludicrous name?” Stewy answers, as if he’d read your mind when you’d opened the fridge.

“How did you even remember that?” You ask in shock as you pick up the smoothie and take a generous sip.

“I’ve spent a lot of time around the Roys.” He says softly looking at you.

“I’m surprised that you remember, that’s-it’s sweet Stewy.”

“You’re not hard to forget. It’s been what 2?3?4 years?” He asks stepping closer to you.

“I think 3.”

“Huh.” He says almost to himself, as he wets his thumb again and wipes at a spot on your face.

“What? More blood splatter this time?” You ask. He chuckles and shakes his head. “No, smoothie.” He says, holding his thumb out for you to see the little bit of purple he’d wiped off you. He then presses it to his mouth, to clean his thumb. You watch him and just can’t get over how attractive and sweet he is.

“If you were that desperate for some of the berry smoothie you didn’t need to do that. You could’ve asked.” You tease in a whisper as your eyes stay on his lips.

“Oh really?”

“I would’ve said yes.”

“Can I?”

You nod and Stewy puts one hand on the small of your waist and the other gently cups your cheek. You relax into the touch and then his lips press against yours, it’s an amazing feeling. The kiss is so gentle yet also has passion in it. It stops though when you hear the shower turn off.

“I need you to return last night’s favour.” “Oh?” You ask, feeling surprised at the timing.

“Dinner with me?”

“But-”

“I know a million quiet places, nobody will find out. It won’t leak or get back to your family and overcomplicate things. Indulge me?”

“You’re surre you can pull that off Hosseini?”

“For tonight sure.” You laugh at him and nod, “Sure.” Stewy takes a sip from the smoothie you’d been drinking earlier.

“Hmm. Just what I thought?” “What?”

“Tastes better on your lips.” He says confidently with a wink, you scoff and go to respond before you see Kendall coming out.

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pedrito-friskito · 1 year

Text

three…two…one… - dieter bravo x fem!reader

❄️’tis the season❄️

summary: you and dieter throw a new year’s party.

word count: 2.8k

warnings: MY BLOG IS 18+, MINORS DNI, smut, fluff, unprotected p-in-v, dieter’s dirty mouth, mentions of drinking/drugs/classic dieter things, this is SUPER SELF-INDULGENT AND I DON’T CARE BUT I LOVE THESE TWO SO MUCH AND JUST WANT THEM TO BE HAPPY OKAY THAT’S IT THAT’S ALL

a/n: the beginning of this fic genuinely made me laugh out loud when I wrote it. thank you all for the love and support always (I’ll make a sappy new years post separately) and I know I’m a day late, but enjoy! (also special props to @mandoblowmybackout for giving me the pizza idea 😏)

“I wanna throw a party.”

Well, that’s definitely not what you were expecting.

“What did you just say?”

Dieter pauses, head snapping up, eyes flicking from where they’d been trained on your bare tits up to your face. His eyes are bloodshot, pupils blown wide, and his cheeks are rosy, a slick of sweat at his temple. “Huh?”

He’s stoned. You both are, truthfully. The last few weeks have been a blur of cardboard, tinsel, and red wine, flitting from one house to the next. You were Dieter’s plus one to a slew of holiday parties (which went much better than your Halloween escapades had, mainly because it was time spent with Dieter’s actual friends, people he trusted, not a bunch of strangers trying to get on his good side) and, in a not-so-shocking twist, a Christmas party thrown by your closest pals.

They had been more than shocked when you announced you were bringing Dieter fucking Bravo along with you, doubly shocked when you told them you were moving in together. It was something to get used to, the talking about him, the calling him your…boyfriend? Partner? Something like that. But up until now, you’ve been so used to keeping it hush hush, reducing your relationship to what it had been, not what it’s turning into. And your closest friend had a keen eye on Dieter, knowing exactly what had gone down at Halloween.

“You’re sure moving in with him is the right thing?”

“There’s nothing I’m more sure of, trust me.”

She’d tilted her head to the side, stared at you a long moment. “You seem happy. Almost too happy.”

“I am,” you said, barking a laugh. “I’m really fucking happy.”

Parties, friends, a quick appearance by your parents — which Dieter had handled with such composure you had to restrain yourself from sticking your tongue down his throat in front of your mother — and the end of the era that was your apartment. You were officially moved out as of Boxing Day, the 27th of December was spent at a work party, and now…you’re officially living together.

The end of a long few weeks, both of you dead on your feet and desperate for a little reprieve, Dieter had declared it a night for celebrating. A healthy-sized joint had been shared on the balcony, reminiscent of the first time you’d set foot in his condo, and you’d swapped smoke, shotgunning between heavy giggles and tired smiles.

“I’m really happy you’re here, baby.”

“Me, too.”

Realizing this would be the first official meal in your now shared space, you spent nearly half an hour trying to decide what to order. Dieter had pouted at that, telling you he wanted to cook you something, but he’d nearly tripped over his own feet coming in from the balcony and almost ripped the curtains down in the process, and the last thing you want to do your first official night is have to call the fire department or an ambulance.

You settled on a giant meat lover’s pizza with extra cheese, bottles of root beer, garlic sticks, the works. You ate sprawled on the rug in front of his fireplace, licking grease from your fingers, watching old episodes of Family Guy, and Dieter’s Stewie impression made you laugh so hard you nearly spewed root beer out of your nose.

It was perfect.

After the pizza had been demolished, things took a turn. It had started innocent enough, the pair of you cuddled up on the couch, your head tucked under Dieter’s chin, his arm wrapped securely around your waist. Something else came on tv, but you were barely paying attention at that point, Dieter having tipped your chin in his direction, hungry kisses that tasted vaguely of pizza pressed to your mouth.

One thing led to another, and before you knew it, you were sprawled on the chaise end of the sofa, stripped of all your clothes. He’d started with your knees hooked over his shoulders, face buried between your legs. He’d pumped you full of three fingers, lips sealed around your clit, mumbling into you the whole while.

“Pussy tastes so fucking good, baby,” he rasped, curling his knuckles, making you keen. “God, you’re so good for me, aren’t you? Taste like a fucking dream.”

You’d cum so hard you saw stars the first time, your head thrown back on the couch, hands buried in his wayward curls. He’d worked you through it, lapping around where his fingers were splitting you open, pulling them out only to replace them with his tongue.

Dieter growled when you yanked at his shoulders, clawing at his t-shirt until he scrambled up the couch, shoving his lounge shorts down over his ass, pulling the hem of his shirt up and over his head. He dropped onto his elbows a second later, covering your mouth with his as he slid into you, both of you stark naked, thrusting so hard the couch slid across the hardwood. You were lost in it, chasing Dieter’s mouth, arms hooked around his shoulders, keeping him close to you.

And then—

“I wanna throw a party.”

He starts laughing, clearly realizing that he said the words out loud, but his pace doesn’t falter. He grins broadly, leaning up on his knees slightly, letting his hands skim along your shoulders and down over his chest, squeezing at your breasts, thumbs swiping your nipples.

“A party, baby,” he continues, glassy eyes raking down your body, trained on the spot where you’re joined together. “New Year’s, yeah? Wanna celebrate this.” He punctuates the word with the drop of his thumb, a slow drag over your clit.

You make a choked sound, back arching slightly. “My pussy?”

The corner of his mouth quirks. “Something this good should be celebrated,” he says, swiping at your clit again. “God, you feel amazing, you know that? Fuck, I love you.”

“Dieter.”

“The New Year, baby,” he says, eyes flicking back up to yours. “Your friends, my friends, the people we actually give a shit about. Let’s celebrate it. This. Us.” He runs his other hand up your side, curls his fingers around your ribs, rubs a harder circle around your nerves. “Get all dressed up, drink champagne, the whole thing.”

You laugh despite it all, sliding your hand up his arm, squeezing at his bicep. “I’m used to New Years in my sweatpants.”

“Wear whatever you want, baby girl,” he purrs, leaning down and nipping at your lips. “I’m just gonna peel it off you at midnight anyway.”

You think he’ll forget, that you’ll wake up the next morning and his sudden desperate need to throw a party would have subsided, but you instead wake up to an empty bed. At eleven in the morning. Supremely uncharacteristic of Dieter, who usually lays in bed until the last possible moment, trying to keep you hostage every single morning.

Snagging one of his t-shirts off the bed, you pad out of the bedroom to find him perched at one of the barstools. He’s got his laptop open in front of him, a giant mug of coffee in his hand, and his phone pressed to his ear. “Yeah, hi, do you guys do those little fuckin’ pigs-in-a-blanket things?”

You just burst out laughing.

Two days later, and the condo is full of friendly faces. It’s by far your favourite party you’ve been to with Dieter, made all the more special that you’re throwing it together, in the home you both live in. You make the rounds, play hostess, resist the urge to go hide in the bathroom. You love the holidays, really, but the constant stream of people, the small talk and the drinking and the late nights, it’s weighing on you.

But when you saw the spark in Dieter’s eye as he called caterers and made drink menus and decided on a guest list, you couldn’t say no.

You still haven’t had time to unpack, and all of your boxes are shoved in the guest room, but even that doesn’t stop it from feeling crowded and overwhelming. You’re stopped by a few friends, remnants of your old life mixing with your new one, and you’re grateful, having a quick conversation before someone else is calling your name, pulling you away.

It’s quarter to midnight when you know you need a moment, and you excuse yourself from the people you’d been talking to and head straight for the bedroom. Your dress feels too tight, the necklace you’d worn with it making you want to claw your head off. Heaving a breath, you toss it onto the chest of drawers, reaching for the zipper on your dress as you head into the closet.

Toeing off your shoes, you reach for one Dieter’s t-shirts, the fluffy jacket you’d thrifted for him, a pair of leggings. You’re halfway into the leggings when you glance over and see the Mandalorian armour he’d worn on Halloween. It’s piled on the floor, the jumpsuit wrinkled and pieces of metal scattered.

The helmet is now sitting beside his Oscar in the living room; your idea.

You already know the closet is going to be a project, a complete reorganization if you are gonna fit anything besides your underwear in with Dieter’s things (something you doubt he would mind). Pulling the leggings on all the way, you reach for the armour, gathering the pieces of metal first, stacking them on the shelves beside a pair of custom Crocs you know you’ve seen Dieter wearing around the apartment.

The jumpsuit is next, and as you pull the fabric up off the floor, something tumbles out of it. Your eyes track it as it falls to the carpet. A little black box, perfectly square and shiny on top. You cock your head, putting the jump suit to the side as you sink down and reach for it. It must be a watch or something, but you realize as your fingers close around the box that it’s too small to be a watch, that it’s the perfect size for—

“Holy shit.”

Your breath stalls in your throat and for a moment, you pause.

Should you open it? There’s a chance that it’s not at all what you think it is, but there’s also a chance that it is one thousand fucking percent exactly what you think it is.

What if he has a plan? Wait…then why was it in the Mando suit? Was he planning to ask at Halloween, before everything went down the way that it did? When had he bought the damn thing?

Your mind is a flurry of questions, a tiny voice screaming at you to just open the damn box! until you hear Dieter’s voice, snapping you out of your reverie so hard you have to shake your head.

“Baby? What are you doing back here?”

You nearly drop the box, shrieking as he steps into the closet before you have a chance to drop the box, hide it, put it back in the jumpsuit, anything. “Fuck, D, you scared me!”

He stares at you a long moment, eyes jumping between your face and the box over and over and over again. “Whatcha got there?”

You’re caught red-handed; there’s no getting out of this one. “I was putting your Mando costume away.”

Dieter chuckles, takes a half-step towards you, the closet door swinging shut behind him. “I can see that.”

“I was just putting it away,” you say again, and he takes another step towards you, until he’s close enough to put a hand on your hip, “and this fell out.”

“Oh, it fell,” he repeats, and his free hand moves to cup yours, the box held aloft in your palm. “It’s been there for a while now.”

“Did you forget you had it?” you ask, and there’s a crack in your voice you’re not expecting, a new sort of desperation crawling up the back of your throat. Is this actually fucking happening?

Slowly, Dieter shakes his head. You bottom lip trembles as he leans in and kisses you softly, squeezing his fingers around yours, around the box. “Not for a second.”

Realization sweeps through you, and you wince. “Oh god, you were gonna propose at midnight, weren’t you?” When he doesn’t answer, you take it as a yes, groaning. “Oh fuck, I fucked it all up, didn’t I? Fuck, Dieter, I’m sorry, baby, I’m—”

He kisses you again, cutting off your words as he pulls you against him. He plucks the box from your hands, snapping it open, and all your breath shoots from your lungs in a gush, knees nearly giving out underneath you. It’s beautiful, salt-and-pepper diamond winking back at you. Rose gold, flanked by two tinier diamonds on either side, an interesting octagonal cut that catches the light from every direction.

“Oh my god.”

“After the Halloween party,” he says, his voice dropping low, “I was gonna get McDonald’s on the way home. I was gonna get you a strawberry milkshake and put the ring on the straw, and then I was gonna write my question on a napkin and give it to you.” He gives a little chuckle, and his hand is at the small of your back now, holding you close. “Obviously, that didn’t work out how I planned it.”

There are tears in your eyes, thick and crawling up the back of your throat. Happy tears, the happiest you think you’ve ever felt. “No, it didn’t,” is all you can manage to mumble out.

“Then, I was gonna do it that day when you gave back the keys to your apartment, but you were so sad, and it didn’t feel like the right time. And then you agreed to this stupid fucking party, even though I knew you didn’t want to, and I thought now, but this—” He plucks the ring out of the box, reaches for your left hand. “—this is better.”

Vaguely, you can hear the sounds of the party, people yelling that the ball is about to drop, that it’s almost midnight, that the New Year is almost here.

Dieter smiles, and it’s a smile that’s now familiar to you. It’s love and it’s light and the man is beaming. “You know you’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me, baby. And I know we’re not easy, or conventional, and maybe people are gonna say this is way too fucking fast, I don’t know. But I know that I love you, and I wanna have a life with you.”

People are counting down now, shouting the numbers as they tick by. Your heartbeat is in your ears, thumping loudly with every second that passes.

10…9…8…7…

“Y’know, I’m supposed to get down on one knee for this,” Dieter murmurs, but you’ve got a death grip on his shoulder, refusing to let him move.

6…5…4…

“Ask me.”

He grins.

“Will you marry me, baby?”

3…2…1…

“Yes.”

Happy New Year!

Dimly, you hear the celebrations in your living room, the whooping and cheering of your friends. Your heartbeat is still thundering, and your hand is shaking as he slides the ring onto your finger.

A perfect fucking fit.

As soon as it hits your knuckle, your arms are around his neck, mouth seeking his, knotting your fingers in his hair. You can feel his smile, a broad grin against your lips as he crushes you to his chest. It’s tight enough to lift you off your feet, your legs automatically lifting around his hips as you kiss him.

His tongue tastes like champagne, and you’re drunk off the feeling of him, the taste of him, the new foreign weight of the ring on your finger. Holy fucking shit. The kiss is just as sweet as it always is, but there’s something about it that feels different now, something more intense, new territory for the two of you to suss out together.

Dieter carries you out of the closet, and it’s only then that you realize you’re only half-dressed, in the leggings you’d thrown on and your bra. He’s got one arm around your waist, other hand pressed between your shoulders, and your lips don’t break as he walks towards the bed and lays you out on the mattress.

“Happy New Year, baby,” he says against your lips, still smiling, and so are you. You’re on Cloud 9, champagne high, over the moon, walking on air, every fucking cliché you’ve ever heard in your life.

You clasp your hands behind his neck, fingers automatically seeking out the ring on your left hand, rubbing you thumb over the diamond. “Happy New Year, Dieter.”

He gives you one last lingering kiss, your whole body tingling with it before he pulls away.

“You wanna go tell your friends?”

You shake your head no. “Not yet. I want us to celebrate it first.”

He nods, an understanding look in his eye. “Wait here,” he whispers, grabbing your left hand, bringing your knuckles to his lips, kissing your ring. “I’m gonna go kick all these fucking people out, and then I’m gonna make love to my fiancée, you hear me?”

“I hear you.”

That beaming smile is back, and it sends a flurry of butterflies through your stomach. “I love you, baby.”

“I love you.”

As soon as the door clicks shut, you can’t hold back anymore. It’s that little girl moment, the kicking feet and the squealing and blushing so hard you think your cheeks are on fire. You can’t stop staring at your ring, and you just hope Dieter moves fast out.

—————

if you’re curious what the ring actually looks like, my inspo is HERE.

#calculated risks #‘tis the season #my fics #dieter bravo #dieter bravo fic #dieter bravo x fem!reader #dieter bravo x you #dieter bravo x reader #dieter bravo smut #dieter bravo fluff #dieter bravo fanfiction #the bubble #the bubble fic #three…two…one…

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cononeillbreastingboobily · 1 year

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Okay so here's how I think Succession will end. Greg's gay dad (aka Chekhov's Gay Dad) finally appears in the flesh in the last episode. He has sex with Logan which reverts him back to default settings nobody knew he even had (let alone Logan himself). He's suddenly really nice to everyone including his kids.

The Tomshiv divorce takes place, both Shiv and Tom decide to be okay with each other at least in court. Tabitha reappears and homosexualizes Shiv, who is now a self proclaimed butch (nothing about her looks or way of being changes).

Tom is secretly devastated by the divorce. He decides it's a great opportunity to reinvent himself. Starts going to the gym. Incidentally he meets Greg there. They bump into each other in the locker room while they're both naked. Tom takes it as Greg's attempt at seduction (it's not). He graciously lets Greg have gay sex with him. The interaction leaves Greg very confused. Tom on the other hand is spiraling. Is he gay? Has he been gay this whole time? Is he bisexual? Is he homophobic? He can't be homophobic if he had sex with a man, right? Right?

At the same time Kendall is sad. Stewy feels especially seduced by his wet eyes swag and has sex with him. Kendall releases a mumble rap EP all about the experience.

Logan finally decides on the succession line. He invites his kids to dinner. Refers to himself as a "fellow faggot" multiple times. He chooses Shiv to take over. She vows to make the company a more inclusive place. In practice in means that Waystar is now fully rainbow washed. Greg becomes head of HR tasked with hiring queer millennials and gen-zers like himself (he's very confused about that last part).

Roman meets a man. He hates him. The man hates Roman. They have steamy hate sex. Roman goes on Drag Race.

#I'm sorry ahshshhshz #can you tell I haven't seen even one episode of Succession in full. can you #succession #succ #logal roy #shiv roy #kendall roy #roman roy #tom wambsgans #greg hirsch #tabitha succession #stewy hosseini #etc etc #greg's gay dad

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transmutationisms · 1 year

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Re: babygirlification of Kendall, have you written anything abt how the show handles the archetype of The Addict? I've found Kendall really compelling bc of it, particularly from the dsm/psych diagnostic critique lens that sees capitalism as responsible for perpetuating addiction thru escapist consumption. Do you agree that that's something the show is doing intentionally?

wow thank you so much for sending this—i've been wanting to put together my thoughts on addiction in succession for a while now.

capitalism in the 21st century, and therefore also on succession, is neoliberal in nature. although the show makes reference to overtly disciplinary institutions (the psychiatric hospital; military school), the mechanisms of control the characters are subject to tend to operate on more insidious, subtle, coercive lines. waystar is not a factory with a strictly rule-bound production floor; it's a media corporation, operating across numerous social and political domains and selling propaganda. it operates not through overtly punitive measures, but through largely seductive ones: stoking and then satisfying people's desires, guiding them ideologically whilst making them believe they're making such choices freely.

there's an element of this type of coercive, yet often covert, control in logan's relationship with kendall as well. kendall is allowed to ride a motorcycle—clinging to the back of logan's bodyguard. he's allowed to go up to the roof—being surreptitiously surveilled, and then prevented from killing himself by the installation of a glass wall. he has access to virtually unlimited money—bearing in mind that most of it is tied up in things like stock options that are essentially under logan's control. on one level, kendall can go anywhere he wants; he can look down at the city from the literal apex of his father's empire; he's a billionaire. but, for all of this freedom and mobility, we can see that in fact his choices are constrained and his movements coerced. logan employed a more overtly disciplinary hand when kendall was a child, but as an adult the means of control tend to run more along psychological lines, manipulating kendall's desires and limiting his field of movement while making it appear that he's freer than ever.

this is very much in line with the mechanisms of control favoured in cyberspatial capitalism, which operates by addicting its users: to sensory stimulation, to pleasure, to the endlessly deferred rewards of endless self-improvement. certainly disciplinary institutions still exist, but in addition there are also more subtle methods of keeping people in line, often relying on the financial threat of debt and the reward of addictive pleasure, or at least removal of withdrawal pains. even as the child of a literal billionaire, kendall is very much a 'debtor-addict' in this mould, as his father wields financial control over him and uses kendall's endless desire for paternal approval in order to keep him hooked.

to me the connection to kendall's coke use is clear. cocaine is the businessman drug par excellance. kendall uses it when he's trying to step into this version of hypermasculine dominance, like in 'prague' when he decides to team up with sandy and stewy or in 'vaulter' when he's ordered to shut vaulter down. coke is part of his endless attempt to self-improve, to self-optimise and ultimately to gain both his father's respect and the material, financial rewards of success in the corporate world.

where cocaine is concerned, then, The Addict as instantiated in kendall is not an aberrant individual with a unique disease, but the logical outcome of the control society's demand for self-improvement and corporate profitability. kendall's coke use is pathologised because he does it excessively and potentially dangerously, yet the logic motivating this drug use is all around him and is considered normal and unremarkable. so wrt coke, The Addict on succession is merely an extreme expression of the psychology of the control subject, pathologised for this extremeness even as the underlying affective and structural demands driving this behaviour go unchallenged.

a more directly escapist form of consumption is kendall's use of downers (seeking ketamine in the first half of 'prague,' asking for weed and oxy in 'austerlitz,' etc). these drugs are not meant to enhance his business performance or masculinity, and don't speak to his addictive need for paternal approval except insofar as he may seek them out when he's particularly miserable and doesn't want to think about it. in regards to these drugs, The Addict represents a failure in the neoliberal system of control, insofar as his drug-taking does not enhance his productivity but hinders it. for kendall this is not his primary mode of substance use, obviously, because so much of his fundamental drive is about his desire to prove himself at waystar and ultimately to inherit.

in both types of drug usage, though, kendall's addiction is a direct result of the affective and material demands exerted by a neoliberal control society. capitalism encourages consumption generally, and specifically it encourages kendall's literal drug consumption as a means of endless self-optimisation when it comes to cocaine. although the other characters on the show perceive his drug use as an individual and pathological moral failure, the show is quite clear in drawing these links between capitalism, control mechanisms, and the logics of consumption that create and drive kendall's addiction.

#ok i kind of just summarised deleuze / fisher LOL #thank you again for this though i really have been meaning to put something together on this topic for ages #a sandpit for emergent behaviour

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disneytva · 11 months

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Disney Streaming Services Brings "Hulu's Animayhem" Experience to SDCC With 20th Television Animation

Disney is bringing it to life through a massive fan experience that invites attendees to the 2-D world of some of its most famous adult animations. They're calling it "Hulu Animayhem: Enter the 2nd Dimension".

Hulu Animayhem: Enter the 2nd Dimension will be in the Bayfront Parking Lot July 20-23, and allows fans of Futurama, Bob’s Burgers, Family Guy, and more to interact with their favorite animated series and characters from 20th Television Animation.

“Solar Opposites”: INSIDE THE WALL (Hulu Original/20th Television Animation)

ZAP! Yumyulack has done it again. As fans enter the 2nd Dimension, they find themselves shrunken down and tossed into the beloved Wall, in this larger than life experience.

Season four premieres on August 14, 2023 with 10 episodes, followed by a Valentine’s Day Special coming in 2024.

“The Great North”: ALANIS BOREALIS (FOX/20th Television Animation)

Fans will step into the expansive Alaskian landscape to join Judy Tobin as she asks for life advice from her imaginary best friend and famed 90’s singer/songwriter Alanis Morrisette. A projected Alanis constellation will appear in the sky and fans can witness the fun, playful interactions between the characters (and maybe even pick up some tips themselves!).

“American Dad”: HALL OF INFINITE ROGERS (FOX/20th Television Animation)

The CIA’s most wanted alien has endless disguises. As fans continue to make their way through the experience, they get a look into just how infinite Roger’s collection of disguises really is!

“Family Guy”: 360 TIME TRAVEL & LIVING ROOM (FOX/20th Television Animation)

Step on Stewie’s infamous Time Travel Pad and take a trip through the 2nd Dimension with this unique photo opp.

Guests can also grab a photo on the iconic couch or just sit back and stay awhile as they enjoy the magnitude of Hulu Animayhem content Hulu has to offer.

“Archer”: WALL OF AGENCY HEROS (FX)

Playing homage to Archer’s opening credits, fans can step in to join the cast in this iconic photo moment.

“The Simpsons”: LIVING ROOM (FOX/Disney+/20th Television Animation)

The iconic living room has landed in front of the giant Hulu Animayhem TV. Guests can grab a photo or sit and stay awhile as they enjoy all the content Hulu has to offer.

“Bob’s Burgers”: GRAND RE-RE-RE OPENING (FOX/20th Television Animation)

Fans of Bob’s Burgers won’t be able to resist bellying up to the counter and snapping a pic with their favorite animated family – The Belchers.

“Futurama”: FUTURAMA HAS LANDED ON HULU (Hulu Original/20th Television Animation)

Futurama is BACK for a new season and will be debuting as a Hulu Original Monday, July 24!

The last piece of the activation will feature an incredible 55 ft replica of HQ, along with a crash-landed Planet Express ship. Inside HQ, fans will be able to immerse themselves in the beloved series with a variety of photo moments and immersive set builds.

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blueikeproductions · 8 months

Text

The EarthSpark Expedition game came out, and since no one is really talking about it, I’ll toss around my two cents. Spoilers naturally.

So first things first, the game’s placement in the story. I think most of us were going to write it off as an adventure in a micro-continuity that didn’t fit with the show. Well that is thrown out the window. The game takes place after S1, with a small recap in the form of a charming RP game by the kids and Terrans.

The story feels like an epilogue, documenting the aftermath of what happened to Mandroid after his Doomsday Project went kaput. Well, he seemingly survived, though we don’t see him in person until the end of the game, and he’s giving the Doomsday Project another crack with the Energon Activator. This time he requires three relics to power the contraption, so naturally Bee is sent on a mission by Optimus to collect them, with Alex as Bee’s wingman.

The twist however is Mandroid has upgraded his mind control chips, having reprogrammed Skullcruncher, Skywarp, Nova Storm and Grimlock again, but also Optimus Prime, meaning Mandroid was playing 4D Chess to get Bee to essentially do his dirty work for him. It is kind of interesting Manny had to reprogram the jets since they willingly served him before, but then again after trying to obliterate (TERMINATE!) all Cybertronic life it makes sense the femjets wouldn’t want to anymore lol. Poor Grim can’t catch a break, but this time he seems to shrug off the experience, mostly calling it unpleasant. To my surprise, Skullcruncher can talk here. I wonder why he’s largely mute in the show (besides what I assume is budget).

Optimus being mind controlled is interesting. I know EarthSpark sorta dabbled previously, but it’s been fairly rare for Prime to be “charged with Evil” ala Attack of the Autobots. The Last Knight did it too, but well we all know how that went down financially. The point being after years of Prime being sort of rigid and untouchable, in what feels like heavy mandates from Hasbro, it’s refreshing to see some experimental stuff with Optimus again. EarthSpark’s strength with Optimus was returning to the well meaning, dorky sweater vest father figure from G1, and going farther with a AotAutobots/Dark Awakening vibe with Expedition is especially fun. Especially since it was a big defining moment for Bumblebee and Rodimus, so it’s fun to see it homaged here.

I also like the designs of the various henchbots Bee fights in the game. They appear to be generic Transformers, but I forget what their context was in game, but could we get toys of them, Hasbro.

As for Mandroid, when he finally appears in person, the truth is revealed. The Mandroid we’ve been following is an AI backup of his personality made before Doomsday MK1. The original officially died. His current body is a giant misshapen Arachnimech with tv screens bolted to its body to show off his original human face. Inevitably, Mandroid looses and finishing him off, Bumblebee blows a hole in his body with a MegaMan style charged shot. Hashtag says Mandroid likely can’t revive again as the ruins of GHOST HQ, now overgrown with plant life curiously and looking like ancient ruins in a shot amount of time, has really cruddy Wi-Fi, so the AI couldn’t escape into another body. Bee nevertheless seems determined in case Manny DOES return, implying we COULD see him again in S2 in some capacity. That being said, the vibe I get also feels like Bertram from Family Guy. How he died in show following a botched attempt at killing Stewie via time manipulation, only to return in a Family Guy video game as the main villain picking up where he left off, only to die again with a nonchalant joke about how we’ll never see Bertram again after this. So 50/50 at Mandroid’s return methinks. For all we know, as of typing, the villains of S2 are COBRA as part of Energon Universe synergy.

Still the story was fun. Definitely very Furman, and kinda nostalgic as a result. The Terrans are all perfectly in character of course. The only thing kinda holding it back is the voice acting, as none of the actors from the show are reprising their roles. Though the actor who played Bee in Netflix WFC reprised the role here, and he’s definitely one of the better actors, when otherwise the acting is a little… subpar. Way better than WFC and Prime Wars, but having that amateurish feeling from Cyberverse… They give it their all though and they still feel like their characters so that’s good.

As said it feels like an epilogue, though while fun to see Mandroid back at it, it DOES feel a tad repetitive using the same Doomsday weapon but slightly different, and using mostly the same Transformers being “Robo-Smashed”. I feel like you could’ve gotten some cool gameplay using Shockwave, Soundwave (& the Cassettes), Bombshell, Starscream and Hardtop. Personally I’d have liked including some new Transformers, like how the TFP game was built around the Decepticons rebuilding the Unicronian Thunderwing, with him as the final boss. Something like that maybe, only Mandroid has unearthed a Combiner, a friend recommended the Masterforce versions of the Seacons, with the final boss being a Mandroid controlled King Poseidon. Ah well maybe for the sequel then.

#blueike productions #blueike #transformers #autobots #decepticons #terrans #earthspark #transformers earthspark

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violentdelightsandviolentends · 1 year

Note

Hi lovely!! Congrats on 500, maybe 40 + 49 + E for Stewy hurt/comfort with Roy!Reader? Thank you so much!!

Consequence.

40. "I love you." 49. "Stay. Please." e. Heatwave

Author's Note - this is a drabble written as part of my 500 Followers Celebration!! find that post here if you're interested in sending a request!! thank you anon, you're the sweetest!!

Pairing - Stewy Hosseini x Roy!Female Reader

Age Rating - 18+

Warnings - cursing

Word Count - 1072

Masterlist. 500 Follower Celebration Masterlist.

Was it a good idea to walk across New York City in a pantsuit on the hottest day of the year? Probably not.

You'd refused to get in one of Stewy's cars, and you couldn't exactly call your siblings and ask them to pick you up. So, you'd walked.

Big mistake.

By the time you're on your block, you're miserable. Your hair is sticking to your forehead, there's sweat dripping down your back, and your pantsuit is soaked through.

You thought that the walk would give you time to think, time to decompress, time to process. It didn't. Now, you're angrier than you were when you stormed out of Stewy's office. You're practically vibrating with fury, rage rattling through your bones. You're honestly not sure if the heat you're experiencing is from the blazing sun or your blood boiling with annoyance.

At your front door, your hands are shaking, making it a struggle to fit the key in the lock. You kick the frame violently, frustrated and sad. More than anything, you're just sad.

You finally swing your door open, screaming in terror when you see a man stood in your entryway.

"Fuck!" he yells, startled by your sudden entrance.

He turns, and your shoulders tense instantly upon seeing his face.

Stewy Hosseini. The most complicated man you've ever met. The most complicated relationship you've ever had.

A relationship that ended today.

You'd known it was doomed from the start. You're the youngest Roy sibling, he's Kendall's oldest friend and a Waystar board member. It was bound to fail.

That didn't stop you from taking the risk, though.

All it had taken was the brush of his fingertips against your waist and soft, murmured words in your ear. You'd jumped with no parachute, straight into the Stewy's arms.

It was all too good to be true. Secret dinner dates, late nights at his penthouse, clandestine meetings in cars sent to you. The thrill of the illicit nature of your affair had the two of you thrumming with excitement, barely able to keep your eyes off each other in the boardroom.

All that energy, that heat, that fire. It had to explode sometime.

It did today.

You'd woken up this morning, instantly checking your phone and expecting to see your usual 'Good morning sweetheart' text from Stewy. Instead, you'd been met with tabloid photos of him with with a supermodel on his arm outside a club.

You'd gotten dressed and stormed straight over to his office, consequences be damned. Blinded by rage, you marched in without knocking, unaffected by the questioning looks you were receiving from his staff. They'd all assumed it was business related, perhaps a Waystar deal gone wrong. If only they knew.

Stewy had tried to explain himself, but it had only made things worse.

"Sweetheart, come on. You know what it's like out there. They don't know about us. It's just me keeping up appearances."

"Keeping up appearances? With a fucking six foot gorgeously blond supermodel?"

"She grabbed my arm. What was I supposed to do, throw her off? Don't you think that's a little suspicious?"

"I think a lot of things right now are pretty fucking suspicious, actually!"

He'd sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose, clearly stressed.

"Honey, please, keep your voice down. I don't need you to be the talk of the office today."

"No. You just don't need me, full stop."

"That's not true and you know it."

"I don't know anything anymore."

And with that, you'd left, breaking both your own heart and his. You always knew it'd end in tears. You felt stupid for even trying.

Now, you're face to face with the man you'd been screaming at in his office an hour prior.

"How did you get in here, Stewy?" you ask while kicking off your shoes.

"I have a key, sweetheart."

"Are you here to give it back?"

He inhales, and takes a step closer to you, looking at you intently.

"No. I'm here to tell you that I love you."

It takes you a second to process his words.

"What?"

"I love you."

You can't decide whether to hit him or kiss him.

"So I break up with you, and you decide to break into my apartment and tell me you love me?" you ask incredulously.

"I didn't break in. I have a key," he replies, slight smirk on his face. "And you didn't break up with me. You stormed out and didn't give me a chance to explain myself. God, you Roys are always so blinded by your emotions."

He's not wrong. You'd seen red and ran, rather than letting him talk to you logically. You know that you only reacted that way because of how you feel about him, but still. You're so used to betrayal, and lies, and deceit. Thinking that Stewy had done the same thing as everyone else had broken your heart.

"Baby," he explains. "I'm surrounded by supermodels and actresses and musicians every night of the week. And the entire time, I'm thinking of you."

His big brown eyes are staring into your soul. You couldn't look away if you tried.

"I don't care if we have to keep this a secret forever," he continues. "That's a price I'm willing to pay. If you're still worried about people finding out, then we'll sneak around for the rest of time. If not, I'm happy to walk into the Waystar building hand in hand right now."

Tears are threatening to spill down your cheeks at his words. He's not usually so open, so vulnerable. It makes you love him even more than you already do.

"I couldn't leave things the way they were this morning. I had to say my piece. If you still hate me, fine. But I had to tell you."

He gazes at you carefully, looking for a reaction. When you don't reply, he makes his way past you, towards the door.

"Stay. Please," you almost whisper.

With that, Stewy turns on his heel and strides towards you. Cradling your face in his hands, he kisses you hard. He's grabbing at you, and your hands are grasping for purchase anywhere they can find. You're both not sure if the other person is going to disappear any minute.

"I'm here," he murmurs against your lips when he pulls away. "I'm here, and I'm not going anywhere. Ever."

You believe him. You believe him.

stewy tag list -

@justacaliforniandreamer

@616wilsons

@shawty-writes-a-little

@isuspectitwasthenargles

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