#Bill Skarsgård

[barbara-on-myspace]

[pizgif]

[billxskarsgard]

Bill Skarsgård and Nicholas Hoult

[dolphinsapphire28]

Why am I just noticing only now (in 2024) that even the Bob Gray persona has two front buck teeth!?!

[b-skarsgard]

Bill Skarsgård in The Crow (2024)

[babyjewl]

[georgeharris0n]

PRACTICAL EFFECTS AND WILLEM DEFOE?? Letterboxd is going to devour this

[hozierbabymomma]

LEMME GET A BITE OF DIS MAN- sorry lemme stop 🙆🏾‍♀️

Bur me fr:

september in paris (roman godfrey x reader)

WARNINGS: none (for now lmao)

summary: your September vacation in Paris is polluted by the sight of sickeningly loving couples— what happens when you finally find someone who shares your frustrations?

word count: 1,715

a/n: currently in Paris for vacation right now lol, so enjoy this little drabble that I wrote for that occasion!! tihi

I hate September. It's either when school starts, or when I'm on vacation having the time of my life. 

Now, don't get me wrong; I love vacations. Especially since my recent get-aways have taken place in France because my father got a job there. And who am I to say no to free accomodation in the most romantic city in the world?

But being single in the most romantic city in the world is absolute torture— why had no one bothered to inform me of this? 

September was the peak month for tourism in Paris; the place was swarmed with couples, either completely fresh or on their honeymoon. Everything about it had me rolling my eyes— My favourite activity was to sit at different cafés around the city, giving rude stares to the happy couples passing by. I suppose it made me feel better about myself... although I would never say that out loud. 

My activites of bitterness would eventually end up being interrupted by a young man who sat down next to me one morning, completely uninvited, with a newspaper in hand. Something about it felt old-school, classic, but also annoying— did he not know that you shouldn't seat yourself this close to a stranger? Especially when there are other seats around?

I moved my nasty glare from the young couple passing us by, now watching the man next to me push my morning tea to my edge of the table to make space for his coffee. That was my last straw; "Pardon?"

He looked up from his paper, quirking a brow at me. "Yes?"

Okay, good-- I was relieved to hear that he spoke english. To demonstrate, I glanced around the practically empty café, waving my arms at the vacant spaces with a rather outraged look in my eyes. "Are you maybe new to Paris? There's a certain etiquette at cafés' here. You don't sit down next to strangers like this when the whole place is available,"

The man shrugged, folding his newspaper in his lap. "I think it might be you that is new to Paris," he said, his strikingly green eyes finding mine with intense challenge before he continued; "My family are patrons of this place, and this is my table. And it was my mother's before me, and my grandfather's before her. I thought I was nice by not telling you to move, but I most certainly could?"

My jaw fell, outraged. "What is this, middle school? There aren't assigned seats and tables out in public!"

"Actually, there are. And you're sitting at my table," He reached for his cup of coffee, not breaking eye-contact. "Care to move?"

Something about him was terrifyingly intimidating, but there was no way in hell I'd back down. Just as I was about to open my mouth and snap back once more, I couldn't help but take a few seconds to take in the sight of him; he was wearing a suit at around ten in the morning, his brown hair was gelled back tastefully, and I recognized his enormous watch from the ads around every bus stop in Paris. Was that seriously the newest Rolex? My mouth started to feel drier than a desert— who was this guy? Had I not seen him somewhere before? 

However, no matter what watch he wore, whether his mother and grandfather liked this table too, he still deserved to be told off for being such a stuck up prick. "I'm not going to move. I was here first,"

The stranger rolled his eyes, letting out an obnoxiously loud sigh. "Could we please not do this before the clock has even struck twelve? Be a good little girl and scram, please,"

"Excuse me?" Everything about this was outrageous; did he really think he could talk to me like that? "Sorry, who the hell do you think you are?—"

My rant was quickly cut off; "Hold on," he said, holding out his finger in front of my face as he watched a seemingly new couple pass us. His mouth curved up into a sneer, shaking his head in dismay as he glared at them; "I think these couples all around town are more annoying than you, can you believe it? They're fucking everywhere." He eventually turned back to me, now holding his hand out for me to take. "I'm Roman. And you?"

Roman? I was getting closer and closer to piecing together where I had seen him before— it was right on the tip of my tongue. Introducing myself, I warily shook his hand, unsure where this was leading to. "At least we can agree that the lovebirds are polluting the city,"

Roman's eyes rounded out, an amused look shimmering in his eyes. "I think I said that exact thing earlier today... Funny," 

It was clear that the atmosphere had changed. This would be the first time I ever bonded with a stranger over something so bitter. "Earlier than this? What were you doing up so early?" I decided that I'd entertain whatever this was.

With a shrug, Roman ran his fingers through his styled hair, checking whether it was still holding its form or not. "Just a meeting. I think I slept through most of it, actually,"

I held back a snort, nodding along with words. Then suddenly, it was as though a lightbulb appeared above my head— meeting? Just as I was about to ask him what he did for work, a rather loud bus passed us, and I couldn't believe who it was on the ad on the front of it.

Blinking rapidly, I kept waiting for the face on the bus to morph into someone else. Were my eyes deceiving me? Unable to keep still, I moved to the edge of my seat, my lips parting in shock at the realization that the man on the ad was the same as the one sitting next to me. 

Godfrey Industries - A Brighter Tomorrow. Beneath the bold text was his name, along with the title of world's youngest CEO. 

"There is no way in hell," I mumbled, turning to Roman with a horrified look on my face.

In turn, he bit back an obnoxious smirk. "I fucking hate that bus,"

"It has your face on it,"

"I hate that picture,"

I shrugged; "Why? It's a good one,"

Raising his brows, Roman snickered, leaning back against his chair with a casual manspread. "What, so now you say I look good? Quite the girl I've met on the streets of Paris,"

"Not on the streets," I mumbled, reaching for my cup of tea. "That makes me sound like a hooker."

"... You're right, my bad," Roman watched as I sipped my drink, and he put away his newspaper on a chair close by. "I bet a hundred bucks that your face will be all across the next bus that passes, though."

My brows drew together, huffing as I put down my tea. "You might as well just give me the money right away, then,"

"Why?" Roman tapped his fingers against the table, fighting the amused smirk that threatened to creep up his face. "You're telling me you're not a model?"

I was very happy to have swallowed my tea already— I would've spit it out on the whole pavement, if not. "No, I'm definitely not a model. Just visiting the city," Was he flirting with me? I couldn't quite put my finger on how we had gone from bickering to whatever this was. "So... Roman Godfrey, world's youngest CEO, what brings you to Paris?"

Roman chuckled as he reached for his coffee; "I'm here to roll around in self-loathing at the sight of happy people in love. You?"

I couldn't help but giggle— weirdly enough, I was starting to like this guy. "I have a week before I go back to college, and I have family in Paris. Just taking liberties of free accommodation, I guess,"

"I see," Roman nodded, his green eyes engraving themselves into my mind. "Would you maybe also like to take the liberty of a free drink later tonight, then? I have my own booth at Club Palais down by the Arc if you want to stop by."

Why was I getting so flustered? I wasn't about to show it— I somehow managed to look away from the most charming man I had ever met, hoping my hair would cover the blush creeping up my cheeks. "It seems you have your assigned seats all around town,"

That made him laugh all over; I couldn't help but notice how much I enjoyed the sound of his amusement. "Yeah... But the difference is that you're very welcome to take a seat, this time," Roman finished his coffee, grabbing his newspaper as he got up from his chair. I couldn't help but notice how tall he was— how was he even a real person? He reached into his blazer, pulling out a sleek, beige card. "Here's my number. Feel free to call if you can't make it tonight, or if you ever feel bored during your week here. There are many fun things to do in this city... Especially when you're two."

I accepted the card between my fingers, trying not to think too much about the feeling of his hand against mine. What was that last sentence supposed to mean? I didn't have time to think it over— "Will do,"

Roman nodded, the corners of his mouth curving upwards into a satisfied smirk. "See you, then," 

Just as he was about to leave, another sickeningly sweet couple passed us. Roman gave me a look, imitating the urge to throw up, and I had to clasp a hand over my mouth as the couple turned towards us at the sound of my laugh. 

Roman tucked his hands into his pockets, shaking his head as he let out a hearty chuckle, disappearing into the crowd of people passing the café.

I couldn't help but sigh-- I still hated September. But this vacation seemed to turn into the best time of my life, just as I had predicted it to be.

[hellisagemini]

me if being obsessed with older men was illegal

[mndvx]

[ilhoonftw]

reblog if you love btob

[xoista]

“my pretty baby” and i’m talking about a grown man who could pick me up and throw me any way he’d like.

[pizgif]

[zanephillips]

BILL SKARSGÅRD Hemlock Grove 1.01 "Jellyfish in the Sky"

[missusmercury]

born to be his controversially young girlfriend forced to read fan fiction about him

[kingkat12]

mistletoe (roman godfrey x reader)

WARNINGS: 18+, dumbification, mature themes, manipulation, toxic relationship, sorta uncomfortable oops, is Roman using his powers or not?, angsty fluff

summary: one week of repeated quarrels brew down to a heated conversation at a Christmas party... will Roman be able to convince you he knows what's best for you?

word count: 1,536

a/n: hey again!<33 i wanted something cute and Christmas-y, but damn... this is far away from that. I doubt Roman likes Christmas at all anyway, so I couldn't bring myself to write something fluffy omg. read at your own discretion, love u<33 merry christmas!!!

"... You hung it up there on purpose,"

"I didn't," Roman said, smirking down at me as he pointed at the mistletoe above us. Evil man, cornering me in the doorway to the empty kitchen. "This is fate. You have to kiss me now."

Under any other circumstance, I would've been a blushing mess. I might've indulged the banter, I might've already dragged him down to my level and kissed him, but alas-- I didn't have it in me. Not after we had been bickering for a whole week. "Since when were you an avid participant in tradition?" I snarked, crossing my arms over my chest as I glared up at my tall boyfriend. "You hate everything else, but this mistletoe-stuff is acceptable to you?"

Roman rolled his eyes, snapping out of his feigned indulgence. "You're being difficult,"

"And you're yet to apologize!"

"Come on!" Roman let out a big huff, pointing at the sweater he had been forced to wear to this party hosted by my friends; the theme was ugly Christmas sweaters, and I bought him one that was just perfect. Seeing the big, bad Roman Godfrey in a reindeer sweater with a red nose that lit up when you booped it was a consolation prize after our quarrels this week. "Look at the shit I do for you, okay? Now stop giving me grief and kiss me!"

Had I not been wearing heels, I would've probably stomped my foot like a toddler-- "No! I'm still mad at you!" 

"For what?" he snapped, his green gaze narrowing with his next words; "For that thing I said about your friends?"

What a stupid question. "Obviously!" 

Roman let out a patronizing laugh as he rolled his eyes, reaching up to touch the mistletoe above us in the doorway. "They do suck,"

"They do not!" 

"They come up with humiliating Christmas sweater parties, and on top of that, they suck,"

Fucking hell. Dating Roman was impossible at times. I glanced around, making sure no one was around to hear this conversation-- I doubted my friends would be happy to hear this coming out of his mouth. "And you think I'm the biggest fan of Peter?" I hissed, turning to face my boyfriend again. "He keeps reciting Romeo and Juliet and claiming he wrote the passages! He's crazy too!"

That seemed to strike a nerve with Roman; "Hey!"

"Hey right back at you!" 

"At least he's nice!"

"My friends are nice too!--"

"No, they suck!" Roman leaned down to my level; he scanned the annoyed look on my face as he took a step forward, forcing my back up against the doorframe. "You know they hate me, right?" he said, lowering his voice. 

My eyes rounded out, feeling my breath get stuck in my chest. "They don't," I tried not to sound so meek, but it turned out to be impossible. I couldn't bring myself to raise my voice at Roman now that he was so close, now that his breath was falling hot against my cheek. 

He tilted his head to the side, sending me the condescending look I knew all too well. "You're so naive," he whispered. "They talk shit about me, and they talk shit about you. Do you know why I've been so pissed at you all week? It's because you can't stand up for yourself when it comes to those bitches!"

I didn't want to hear it. I really, really didn't. "Roman--"

"They walk all over you, do you not see it?!"

Angry tears were welling up in my eyes; "Stop it!--"

"You think I want you to be around people like that? Don't you think I want what's best for you?"

"You don't know what's best for me!" I hissed, deciding to get back up in his face. Roman was pissing me off more and more by the minute. "You control every other aspect of my life, and I let you, but not this one! My friends are my territory, and I need to have some autonomy here!" 

It was true-- I liked turning my brain off around Roman. I liked that he had money, that he drove me everywhere, that he paid someone else to get my homework done, that he paid for my manicures, because why should I not allow myself the luxury? He got off on it, anyway. It drove him absolutely mad, gave him a high to doll me up and parade me around. So yes, I allowed him control of almost every part of my life, but not this one. I had to be able to make one good choice, no? Or was my brain already too far gone, too fried by pleasantries to function?

Roman's green eyes narrowed as he glared down at me. He let out a sharp breath, visibly growing angrier by the second. However, he contained it with bitten-down words; "And you know why you're so happy to give me control? Because deep down, you're aware that you make bad choices," 

"I don't!--"

"You do," 

Every piece of my self-worth was crumbling at his feet. I let it all sink in, and allowed myself to chew and process the truth he was serving me; Roman was painfully right. I had never been the best at making any choice of any sort. I wasn't sure why my lower lip was quivering with my next quiet words; "But... I like my friends," 

Roman sighed, eyes softening at the sight of me. "I know," he cooed, reaching forward to stroke his thumb across my cheek. "But I'll find you some new ones, okay? Let me deal with it for you."

I didn't want to fight anymore. Didn't want to fight this-- Roman's eventual occupation of my whole life, and his need to conquer every piece of me. There was something about the spark in the green of his eyes, the hidden fire behind his innocent, sweet words that I innately liked, anyway.

Roman made me feel dumb. 

So unbelievably brainless.

... Because maybe I was?

I let my inner monologue die out, go into static noise, as Roman's hand went into the hair at the nape of my neck. He twisted his fingers harshly into my locks as he grinned against my lips-- He had won. Fucking Napoleon. "I'm gonna take such good care of you," he cooed. "You don't ever have to see any of these people again, I'll make sure you don't."

Maybe that was for the best?

Roman knew better than me, anyway. Roman was smart. 

I was nothing compared to him.

Nothing. 

Roman's eyes sparkled with glee at the sight of the wreck he had made out of me. Finally, after one week of planting seeds of doubt in my mind, he had gotten through to my psyche. "What do you say we get out of here, hm?"

I nodded, trying not to hiss as his fist in my hair tightened. Now, I couldn't move-- I was forced to look straight into his eyes, unable to escape his gaze. 

"Gonna fuck you real nice for being such a good girl," Roman whispered, brushing his bottom lip against mine as I let out a shaky breath. "How many times do you want to cum tonight? I'll do it all for you, don't be shy."

I so desperately hoped no one was hearing this conversation. However, it hit me that it didn't matter; I wouldn't see these people again. Roman would make sure of that. "Two?" I tried, not sure what to answer. He got so intense sometimes, it made me weak at the knees with discomfort.

Roman tsked, grinning; "I think we can shoot higher. Let's say three,"

Who was I to deny myself such pleasure? "Okay," I breathed, feeling my cheeks turn a light shade of pink. Nonetheless, I made a point out of getting up on my tippytoes to get closer to his face. "Roman?"

He seemed as amused as ever; "Yeah?"

"Did you still want that kiss?"

Roman glanced up at the mistletoe, momentarily letting out a short laugh. I was sure he had forgotten about it. "You bet," Roman murmured, glancing back down at me before leaning down, nudging my nose with his as an invitation. 

I smiled as joy coursed through my veins-- I knew I was in good hands. Roman knew how to take care of me properly, much better than I ever could myself. 

It took me about a second before I realized I was leaning in.

Two seconds to realize Roman's soft lips were on mine with the gentlest touch known to man. 

And three to realize I was the luckiest girl in the world. 

Someone who kisses like this couldn't ever want anything bad to happen to me, right? His motives couldn't be selfish-- no, that was impossible. Roman's kisses were merely touches of utter love, kisses to ease me, disarm me, and push me into the right path of submission. Every brush of the soft pillows of his lips against mine was the equivalent of a verbal confession of love. 

As I pulled him closer, mentally thanking the person who hung up the mistletoe here, I saw red lights shine through my closed lids-- I smiled into the kiss, realizing we had set off the red reindeer nose of his sweater. 

This is what I was made for. 

This was who I was made for. 

Roman-- only Roman.