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meelusinee · 2 months ago

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NOW SHE HAS ME UNDER HER SKIRT | M.R x READER

word count \ 3.7k | fluff & stuff | slash / mattheo riddle x reader

in which mattheo is absolutely in love with you before you two even talk for the first time (part one to lovesick!mattheo) author's note at the end!

SECOND PART HERE - lovesick!mattheo christmas edition

NOW SHE HAS ME UNDER HER SKIRT | M.R x READER

Mattheo didn’t know much about love.

Between being raised by a dictator and his craziest follower, he already didn’t have a very good start. Especially whenever he would get in trouble, the Cruciatus Curse was definitely no joke. Not to mention everyone pestering him about the legacy he led. News flash to the Gryffindors who would try to pick on him, he found it quite obvious that he was Voldemort’s son.

Suffice to say that he didn’t know much about love. He never had a true showcase of it, never had an example of it to compare to anything. The closest he ever had being another stunted teenager by the name of Theodore that considered him his brother, but even then there was still distance.

That was until he met you.

You, the most beautiful person he had ever met in his entire existence on this Earth. Anything he lol looked at on you he would find absolutely perfect, from the color of your eyes to the way your hair bounced in the sunlight.

That alone made it hard to approach you. Your nice demeanor seemed to make it even harder.

So, he settled with admiring from afar. Mattheo knew your schedule, the classes that you would take and every time that it varied. He would subtly watch you in classes, hang around the same areas you did during your break periods, or even where you went for fun. And, to the best of his ability, he tried to avoid things that looked bad. No more fights or cursing, not unless he was truly provoked.

His mind also got its grubby hands on the idea of a journal. A place he could write about you freely, one he charmed so only he could read it. Entries, song ideas, anything he could think of. You made him an artist, you as his perfect muse.

And it all got even better when you two finally met.

You had just walked down to the courtyard, Mary Janes clacking along the rocks as you made your way over to a small pillar.

Recently, you noticed someone sitting by the pillars a lot more than usual. He was tall, his face usually covered by his brown curls as he wrote inna small journal he always carried with him. Said tall man with a face covered by his brown curls was your current potions partner, you had both been assigned to create a Liquid Luck potion.

“Hello?” you called out gently. face tilted down just a bit as you looked down at him. His eyes locked with yours when he looked up, the most beautiful shade of molten honey you had ever seen meeting your eyes. “Hi there, stranger.”

“Hello?” he whispered back at you, eyebrows furrowed as he spoke. His face looked rather cute when it was all scrunched up like that, a light blush covering his cheeks.

“I’m your Potions partner.” you said with a smile, flattening your skirt before moving to sit down next to him. “For the Liquid Luck project.”

“Oh,” he whispered, nodding as he closed his journal. It had a rather pretty leather cover, the pages aged and covered in ink from what you could tell. “Yeah, I remember. Y/N, right?”

“Yeah,” you smiled, nodding. “And you’re Mattheo.”

“Yes I am.” he said, a soft smile coming on his face as he heard that. He looked at you with something special in his eyes, eyes that carved themselves deep into your soul with the most intricate patterns you could think of.

The trance both of you seemed to be stuck in was broken when he cleared his throat, fingers tapping on his journal. “Did you have any ideas for the project?”

“Oh,” you whispered, nodding. “Yes, yes I do. I was thinking that we head to the library and research different potion methods and whatnot. Based on Slughorn’s instructions, I’m assuming that the instructions in the books won’t help much.”

“You’re a genius.” he whispered, barely loud enough for you to hear.

“What was that?” you asked him, eyebrows furrowed in confusion.

“Nothing,” he said, clearing his throat as he began to sit up. “Do you want to go now?”

Mattheo thought that he was dreaming, if he was being honest.

The girl of his dreams, the girl that he had wrote almost obsessively day and night about for almost six years, that same girl was currently sitting across from him. Laughing.

“You’re ridiculous,” she smiled at his joke, her voice sweet like a piece of cotton candy melting on your tongue. He didn’t even remember what he had joked about at this point, his mind turning to mush the moment he heard that sound pass your lips.

Those lips that haunted his dreams every single night, the image of them so plush and pure he wanted to worship them like one would a holy angel. They looked absolutely perfect.

“Thank you,” he whispered, smiling softly as he rested his chin on his hand. He probably looked like a lovesick puppy, but he didn’t mind.

“I found something really interesting in this book by the way,” you said, Mattheo’s eyes instantly darting to where your hands were resting on the page. “It says in the recipe that we need to juice a squill bulb, which most people just cut it for. But this recipe here notes that squeezing ingredients over a funnel gets more juice out.”

“That’s really interesting.” he whispered, his gaze looking at your face as you spoke.

“Isn’t it?” you asked with a smile. “And here it says that adding the entire Murtlap makes the potion last longer, rather than just growth.”

“That’s also really interesting.” he whispered again, gaze still stuck on your face. You looked so pretty whenever you were concentrating on things, the way your eyebrows furrowed making him think of a million different songs and rhythms.

“Is it?” you asked with a chuckle.

“Well,” he muttered, looking at you with a small smile on his face. “I always found Potions an interesting topic.”

“Always is not a word. It’s more of a concept.” you said, humming as you continued reading the pages. Mattheo chuckled softly, looking at you like a lovesick puppy.

“You’re lovely,” he whispered.

Theo was sitting in his bed reading a book, his curtains almost completely closed as he flipped between page to page. At least, he pretended to.

Recently, he had noticed Mattheo’s obsessive journaling habits. How his hands would be covered in ink by the time he was finished, or how he’d write until his new candle burnt out. Sometimes Mattheo would write even when the candle burnt out, instead opting for yet another one.

It was rather concerning to Theo, to say the least. Out of all of the things Mattheo could do, he was changing who he was. Self-improvement was one thing, but it seemed like he changed an obsession from fighting to writing.

“I can feel you staring at me.” Mattheo mumbled, looking back over at where Theo was sitting.

“I’m surprised you can,” Theo said under his breath, closing his book and standing up. “With how much you’ve been writing, I’d assume you get sucked in by a black hole sometime soon.”

“Oh hush,” he whispered, looking up from the journal. His hands were stained black and red with quill ink, the candle beside him still burning brightly. “Why do you keep staring at me? You’ve been doing it all week.”

“Your journal.” Theo smirked, walking behind Mattheo and placing his hands on his Mattheo’s shoulder. “What’s inside?”

“Why would I tell you?” Mattheo grumbled, continuing to write in the journal. Theo’s eyes squinted as they tried to read whatever was on the page, but the words were too jumbled to make any sense to him. No doubt a charm.

“You charmed the journal?” Theo asked curiously, looking down at Mattheo.

“Like you care.” he whispered under his breath, the quill scratching loudly against the paper. The room was quiet other than that, nothing but the quill scratching and the candle crackling.

“I do.” Theo said, his voice a bit more stern. He pulled up a chair next to Mattheo, resting his elbow on the table. “Mattheo, you’re pushing everyone away. Even me, and it’s not healthy. All you do is write in this journal, it’s kind of worrying.”

“I just like writing,” Mattheo whispered, moving his legs to rest his knees near his chest.

“About what?” Theo asked, his voice more soft than teasing.

“You’ll judge.” Mattheo whispered again, flicking the quill back and forth as his eyes glanced over at Theo. “Why do you want to know?”

“Because you’re my best friend.” Theo whispered. “I promise I won’t judge.”

Mattheo sighed before turning to the journal, pressing his wand against it as the words came into view more clearly. His handwriting was a lot more cursive than Theo first remembered, no doubt changing the more he wrote.

“It’s a journal about her,” Mattheo whispered, flipping through some of the pages. “Love letters, poems, songs and stuff.”

“Her?” Theo asked curiously. “Who’s her?”

“Her,” Mattheo muttered to Theo, picking at his fingernails as he spoke. He looked like a blushing schoolboy who found his first love, it was rather cute to watch. “It’s, like, she’s a girl I just really like. I think about her a lot, you know? And I’m just trying to improve myself for her.”

“What’s her name?” Theo asked, resting his head against his hand as he crossed his legs.

“Y/N.” Mattheo sighed, like the word itself was a part of some holy prophecy. “She’s so beautiful, you know? Like something from heaven, just beautiful. And I just can’t get her out of my head.”

“Have you ever tried talking to her?” Theo asked, a small smile on his face.

“We have this project together right now.” he said, chuckling softly as he spoke. He was so down bad. “She took me to the library to research more about potions. Merlin, she’s so smart Theo. She figured the reason why nobody could make the potion was because the instructions were wrong.”

“So you both started researching?” Theo asked.

“She researched, yeah,” Mattheo said, before chuckling again. His hand moved to scratch the back of his neck nervously. “I kind of just sat watching her the entire time.”

“Mattheo,” Theo chuckled softly, shaking his head.

“You said you wouldn’t judge!” Mattheo protested.

“I’m not judging.” Theo chuckled, looking down at the journal. “I’m just confused on how you think you’ll get your girl if you can’t even talk to her. Journaling can only go so far.”

“I know,” Mattheo whispered, looking down at his journal again. “But it still helps.”

Theo nodded, looking down at the journal again. “What are you writing about right now?”

“Uh,” he muttered, looking at the pages. “It’s a song. She said something at the library that made me think of a song, I haven’t been able to get it out of my head.”

“What’s it sound like.” Theo asked, leaning back in his seat.

“Uhm,” he whispered, picking at his nails again as he pushed the journal towards Theo. He hummed softly as he picked it up, eyes squinting as he tried to read his handwriting.

Darling, just calm with your voice

Let your heart sing, how I always enjoy

When you say “always” is not a word

You think love is a bit absurd.

“That’s really nice,” Theo said, looking up at Mattheo with a small smirk. “This is a lot better than I thought it’d be, to be honest.”

“What did you think I was writing about?” Mattheo asked confusedly.

“Dark magic or something.” Theo chuckled softly, shaking his head. “Like you were possessed by a ghost to figure out how to resurrect themselves.”

Mattheo chuckled at that, taking his journal back. “I think you’ll find someone like this, you know. It makes life really nice.”

“Being in love?” Theo asked, an eyebrow raised.

“Yeah,” Mattheo whispered. “In love.”

“Well, there’s always an opportunity for that. And when it happens, it’ll happen.” Theo said, patting his pockets and pulling out a box of cigarettes. “But until then, there’s cigarettes.”

“You know the way to my heart, don’t you?” Mattheo snickered at that, using the lit candle to light his own cigarette.

It had been a couple of weeks since you and Mattheo had started working on your project. You had figured out how to maximize the efficiency of your potion brewing, including changing methods of brewing and preparing ingredients. After about three different trials, you had finally found the perfect way to brew the potion.

“That’s perfect.” Mattheo smiled softly at you, chuckling softly as he scratched the back of his neck. In all honesty, it looked like a regular potion to him. “I think that’s perfect, right?”

“That is perfect.” you said, giggling softly as his reaction You found it rather cute, if you were being honest. He seemed rather nervous around you. “Thank you for doing all of this with me, the potion work and all. Most people would probably just leave it to me, you know?”

“Why would they leave?” Mattheo asked, eyebrows furrowing.

You shrugged, looking down at the potion still set in the cauldron as you spoke. “I don’t really know. I guess people consider me weird or something like that. Someone said that I was whimsical once, I don’t think it was a nice way though.”

“That’s absolutely ridiculous.” Mattheo spat. He couldn’t understand the logic of that. In his eyes, you were absolutely perfect. He would give anything in the world to hang out with you more often than he got too, and people gave that up for free? The thought was absolutely ridiculous.

You chuckled quietly at that, smiling softly. “Yeah?”

“Definitely. I mean,” he paused, looking up at you like that was the most absurd thing in the entire world. He had a small flush on his face, no doubt questioning what he was going to say. “I mean, you’re such a nice person. And I think that hanging around you is comforting.”

“And I think that you’re rather sweet.” you chuckled, looking at him with a soft smile.

“I’m being serious!” Mattheo said, looking you in the eyes. You hadn’t heard him talk this much in the entire time that you had been working with him, and you especially didn’t expect it to be him defending you. “You’re just, like, you. Which is really sweet, you know? I really like you and your whimsy, or whatever they try to call you.”

You giggled again, smiling softly at him as you scooted a bit closer. “You’re rather nice yourself, if I do say so myself.”

“Thank you.” he whispered, his voice raising a pitch as he looked at the potion. “Do we need to test this?”

“I think so.” she nodded. “Do you want to do it?”

Mattheo looked at the potion, a small frown coming on her face. If anything went wrong with the podcast, he wouldn’t want you to be hurt by it. Which led to him nodding, the best option for him obviously being him taking the potion himself.

“I’ll bottle it for you.” you said, grabbing the small ladle and pouring it inside the potion vial. “Here, one vial of Liquid Luck for you.”

Mattheo smiled softly as he took a sniff of it. “Is it meant to smell like something?”

“No, just air. I mean, clean air. Not like toxic air or anything.” you said, before ending your small speel. “It doesn’t smell like anything.”

Mattheo nodded again, taking a swig of it before coughing. “That’s definitely hot.”

“It did just come off the cauldron.” you chuckled, fingers fidgeting slightly. “Do you feel lucky?”

Mattheo looked up at you with a look you could only describe as a lovesick puppy, a small flush covering his face as he admired you. You could only assume the amount of thoughts running through his mind were plenty, some very hard to sort through.

“Yeah,” he whispered, blinking slowly as he looked at you. “Very lucky.”

You chuckled softly at that, your face flushing as you watched his eyes lock onto your lips. “Do I have something on my lips or something?”

“No,” he whispered softly, his Adam’s Apple bobbing as he spoke. “No, I just,”

“Something on my teeth?” you asked, shining your teeth to him.

“I want to kiss you.” he whispered.

Your mouth closed again as you heard that, eyes locking onto his after he spoke. That didn’t last long though, as his eyes focused back on your lips again. “You what?”

“I want to kiss you.” he said a bit more clearly, his voice hoarse as he spoke. “I mean, I don’t want to pressure you. But I really want to kiss you.”

“You can kiss me.” you whispered softly to him, scooting a bit closer to him in return.

Mattheo blinked for a couple of seconds, the shock of your answer plastered on his face. It filled you with a small sense of confidence, the blush on his face fueling your own. “I can?”

“You can.” you smiled.

Mattheo smiled brightly at that, the burn of it brighter than the sun sucking his lips in like a blackhole would. His lips immediately met yours, burning like fireworks against his skin. It was absolute bliss to him, burning through his skin and turning him into nothing but lovesick ash.

“Your lips are absolutely perfect, my love.” he whispered, his eyes boring into yours with a gaze full of adoration. “So perfect.”

“Was your luck to try and kiss me, Riddle?” you chuckled softly at him.

“This is the luckiest moment of my life.” he whispered.

“Theo!” Mattheo spat out, opening the dorm room door as he stormed in. His palms looked sweaty, and his face was absolutely covered in a bright blush.

“Mattheo.” Theo said his name back, closing his book as he looked at where Mattheo had stormed in. He looked absolutely wrecked, almost drenched in sweat. “You look like you just got your ass kicked on the Quidditch field.”

“I just,” he whispered, walking closer to Theo as he paced around the room. “I just kissed her.”

“Y/N?” Theo asked, a small smile crossing her face. “You kissed her?”

“It was so perfect.” he whispered, laying down on Theo’s bed. “Like, it was like her lips had a magnetic pull on me. I couldn’t stop for the next hour. A whole hour!”

“That’s wild, mate.” he chuckled softly, patting Mattheo on the head.

“It was just perfect,” he whispered under his breath, sighing softly. “Like, I don’t know how else to describe it. Maybe like looking at a supernova for the first time.”

“You are down bad, Mattheo.” he chuckled softly at that, continuing to pat his friend on the head.

“And then we, after that right?” he said, the smile on his face only growing larger. “We snuck off to this broom closet. You know the ones. And we did, we had,” he paused, sighing in frustration as his words jumbled in his head. “You know?”

“I know.” Theo chuckled.

“I have a song idea again.” Mattheo said, sitting up again as he rushed to the journal he kept so dearly to his heart. “I will be dead to the world for the next few hours.”

“You want me to go tell Y/N that, lover boy?” Theo smirked.

“She can come in whenever.” Mattheo said, dipping his quill in black ink. “I already gave her our dormitory password.”

“You what?”

“I have a present for you.” Mattheo whispered under his breath, a small smile on his face as he walked towards you.

It was the 6 month anniversary of one of the happiest relationships you had ever been in. There was communication and there was love. Small dates near the Black Lake at midnight, with breakfast you stole from the Great Hall earlier. Times where he’d take you into town and let you dress up however you wanted, all on the cards he stole from Malfoy. Or small get-togethers like this, hangouts at the top of the Astronomy Tower.

And the presents were always lovely. Small poems that he wrote for you, or love letters that he hand wrapped himself. A small blush or dress you had been eyeing for more than two seconds, or room decor that went with your forever indecisive aesthetics.

“You do?” you giggled softly, gasping softly as he pulled out a small guitar. “A song?”

“I’ve written a couple for you,” he whispered. “And I wanted to sing them to you. For our anniversary.”

“I love you.” you giggled, smiling as he sat down.

He cleared his throat as he made sure the guitar was in tune, strumming a few chords before eventually developing a melody. It seemed almost hypnotic the way his hands moved, his voice humming along as he figured out the rhythm.

“Yesterday, I was a word. Left with no voice to speak it,” he hummed softly, his voice and the guitar both vibrating through the walls. You smiled brightly as you heard his voice, not realizing how pretty his voice actually sounded.

“Now I am a happy song, placed on the lips of a woman.” he sang, winking at you. He continued for a few lines, a small smirk growing on his lips as he got to the instrumental part.

“What are you going to sing next?” you asked, watching him giggle softly. “Seriously!”

“Patience,” he whispered, chuckling as he strung the melody again, his eyes darting down at the guitar. “Now she has me, under her skirt,”

“Mattheo!” you flushed, slapping his arm and breaking the rhythm of his song. “My skirt?”

The both of you burst out into a laugh at that, the sound breaking through the cold night air that breezed through the alcove you sat in. Or maybe you just felt warm in his presence, a constant feeling of love rushing through your body.

“Can I finish my song now?” he smirked.

“I suppose you could.” you whispered, resting your head on his shoulder as he continued to sing.

AUTHOR'S NOTE

my second post oh my GOD this one took a hot minute to get through. beta-reading and proof reading is definitely not my jam, and there's definitely things that i missed in this. but i hope it still works out well, especially the whole lovesick angle i was going for. if you guys haven't already, please please please go check out tamino's music. it is actually so. good. if you listen to hozier or adrianne lenker, i think you'd really like his songs (my favorites are the first disciple and habibi)

if you would like to read the second part, click here!

as always, please like, comment, and reblog! it really helps out, and i really appreciate everyone who does! if you guys have any requests or something you can request in the ask box!

#fanfiction #harry potter fanfiction #slytherin boys #mattheo riddle #mattheo riddle x you #mattheo riddle x reader #mattheo x you #theodore nott #tamino #lovesick mattheo #fluff #extra fluff #mattheo & theo teasing

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fuckyeahgoodomens · 2 years ago

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The Season 2 Poster Details

From top to bottom :)

This is a Buddy Holly song Everyday which was originally supposed to be the Good Omens theme :)

Neil talks about it in the Introduction to the Script Book: “In the scripts, Buddy Holly’s song ‘Every Day’ runs through the whole like a thread. It was something that Terry had suggested in 1991, and it was there in the edit. Our composer, David Arnold, created several different versions of ‘Every Day’ to run over the end credits. And then he sent us his Good Omens theme, and it was the Good Omens theme. Then Peter Anderson made the most remarkable animated opening credits to the Good Omens theme, and we realised that ‘Every Day’ didn’t really make any sense any longer, and, reluctantly, let it go. It’s here, though. You can hum it.”

And there is also the Buddy Holly Everyday record! :)

Book The Crow Road by Iain Banks. The novel describes Prentice McHoan's preoccupation with death, sex, his relationship with his father, unrequited love, sibling rivalry, a missing uncle, cars, alcohol and other intoxicants, and God, against the background of the Scottish landscape

Book Lord Jim by Joseph Conrad. An early and primary event in the story is the abandonment of a passenger ship in distress by its crew, including a young British seaman named Jim. He is publicly censured for this action and the novel follows his later attempts at coming to terms with himself and his past and seeking redemption and acceptance.

Important themes in Lord Jim include the consequences of a single, poor decision, the indifference of the universe, and the inability to know oneself or others.

There is book The Body Snatcher by Robert Louis Stevenson. Its characters were based on criminals in the employ of real-life surgeon Robert Knox (1791–1862) around the time of the notorious Burke and Hare murders (1828). Neil said: Oddly enough, episode 3 will take us to a little stint of body snatching in the era.

There is Catch-22 book by Joseph Heller that coined the term Catch-22: situation from which an individual cannot escape because of contradictory rules or limitations.

Is there only one hand or are there two? :) EIther 6 ;), or 6:30 :).

Through the window we can see the coffeeshop Give Me Coffe or Give Me Death where Nina works! :)

Azi is wearing his nifty glasses :).

Crowley is wearing his new glasses, they are RIGARDS X UMA WANG - THE STONE ECLIPSE (VINTAGE BLACK/BLACK STONES) - $435

There is the Holy Bible Aziraphale used in Season 1 :)

There seems to be a broken phone :).

The cakes behind Aziraphale are Eccles cakes :).

Azi is reading A Tale of Two Cities by Charles Dickens published in 1859, set in London and Paris before and during the French Revolution. The novel tells the story of the French Doctor Manette, his 18-year-long imprisonment in the Bastille in Paris, and his release to live in London with his daughter Lucie whom he had never met. The story is set against the conditions that led up to the French Revolution and the Reign of Terror.

Another book there is Pride and Prejudice by Jane Austen - Neil said said that we will learn a lot about Jane Austin we didn’t know before.

And finally the Treasure Island book by - again :) - Robert Louis Stevenson, an adventure novel with pirates.

There are three geckos cuties. Who are they? Pets? Is Ligur haunting the bookshop? Who knows :).

A mysterious pamphlet, 'The Resurrectionists’ leaflet. (unofficial spoiler :)).

Also there is an old camera... mmm 🤔 Did Azi made some photos (of what? Him and Crowley, ducks? :)) Will we see them? :)

Their positions is an homage to the book covers! :)(x)

Will update this as fandom discovers new things! :)❤

#good omens #gos2 #season 2 #posters #s2 poster details #fun fact #robert louis stevenson #jane austen #joseph heller #charles dickens #can't waiiiit #wahoo!

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unofficial-writing · 1 month ago

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Sunlight

✵ Pairing: Elrond / f!reader

✵ Word Count: 1.1k

✵ Summary: You always had a fondness for the sun, for it reminds you of your lover

✵ Warnings: None, just fluff

✵ a/n: I love this sort of writing style but haven’t taken a shot at it until now so bear with me

There were many things you loved about this world. Little things that filled your heart with a certain flicker of Joy. On this particular morning, it was the gentle glow of the sun on the trees, seeping through and spilling onto the forest floor. The warm sensation it created crawled across your skin, leaving you to attempt at soaking up all you could.

The fabric of your dress draped behind you, picking up golden leaves that had departed from their former home in the trees above. They were not unlike the leaves that so effortlessly decorated your hair, wrapping around the crown of your head to hold the pieces out of your face that would otherwise fall in the way.

The warm breeze of summer blew from the edge of the trees to swirl around you, disturbing the lightest of leaves on the forest floor. The ones that had fallen the most recently. The feeling persuaded your lips into the gentlest of smiles. One that could only be seen when observed closely.

It was here, at the tree’s edge, where you found your lover. Elrond rested at the base of a shining tree, surrounded by soft grass and every manner of flower one could imagine. He held in his hands a leather-bound book, overflowing with a messy array of pages that had been aged and weathered with time. His eyes traveled with care across the opened page, soaking up every bit of what the words spoke to him. Your smile found itself a little wider than in the moments past.

Your hands took hold of the soft fabric that clothed you, lifting it just enough to free your feet and your pace. The moment you stepped out from the cover of trees, you were engulfed fully in the sunlight and all its warmth. It comforted your heart and quickened your feet.

You reached Elrond swiftly and dropped down beside him, feeling any tension leave his body upon your arrival. “I had hoped to find you here.” You told him, watching his eyes find yours without delay. He appeared especially fair to you today. His brown curls had grown to a wonderful length, reaching down to meet his brow and curl under his ears. It complimented the rest of his face.

His eyes softened lovingly, admiring you as if this were the last time he could look upon your face. “I hoped you would as well, starlight.” Elrond took your hand in his own, placing a delicate kiss there. You wanted to melt at his touch, his lips against your skin. The feeling spread across your body in the same way the light of the morning had.

You settled in next to him, his body moving instinctively to cradle you in his arms. Elrond picked up his book once more, now shifting to read its contents aloud to you. His voice moved through your ears like a song. Its melody reaching the very depths of your soul and coaxing your body into a state of peace.

You studied his face, which seemed to glow under the bright kiss of sunlight. He was the only being in this world that you found to resemble that light so closely. His warm smile and kind nature carried to you the same comfort as the golden rays that peeked through the leaves to greet you. You had grown rather fond of the feeling.

The subtle rise and fall of each breath in Elrond’s chest returned you to your senses after your thoughts had led you astray, pulling your attention back to his reading. Each word fell off his lips smooth as silk, having you wishing he would never find the end of those pages.

Without disrupting, you gathered up a few flowers that resided in the grass beside you, protecting them in your palms. A hand reached up with a bright golden one to weave into your lover’s hair, only further adding to the thought of comparison of your Elrond to the morning’s sun. His near perfect telling of his story faltered momentarily, and you could feel warmth travel to his face. Even after all the time that had passed, the smallest act could still so easily distract him. An airy giggle escaped your lips at this thought, which did not go unnoticed by him.

“Oh, how you tease me,” Elrond spoke, turning his head to press a long kiss to your temple. He almost made you falter right alongside him.

“Do not pretend it is only I who does. I can recall several occasions where it was you, Elrond.” You returned, your words accompanied by a smile. His shoulders shook with subtle laughter, beckoning you to continue on your task of flowering his hair. After a few more had been added, Elrond was able to return to his book, allowing you to weave your fingers gently through his curls.

Despite your previous wishes, Elrond’s soft eyes followed the final line of the page, and his lips formed the shape of the final word. Soon enough, the book had been abandoned in the grass, freeing his other hand to caress your face.

You gazed up at him, his tidy brown curls were now disheveled, having become home to the forest’s golden flowers. Your smile slid back onto your face, bringing with it your gentle laughter. Elrond practically melted, adoring the sound in the same way you adored hearing his voice utter the words to a story; spoken in a way you believed even the original teller could not achieve.

He peppered your face with kisses, each one like little butterflies beneath your skin. “I want to stay here with you as long as time will allow us.” You told him, watching his lips curve into his own smile.

“My dear, time will allow us eternity.” He spoke in return, planting a kiss to the bridge of your nose. He could not resist another opportunity to feel your skin beneath his lips. “And I would want nothing more than to spend every last moment of it with you.” His smile lit up his entire face, almost seeming to you to be its own source of light and warmth. You wanted to absorb as much of the sight as your eyes could manage.

✵

There were many things you loved about this world. However, there was only one that filled your heart and soul with such an immeasurable amount of joy, longing, love, and everything in between. From the moment your eyes first fell on him and for the rest of your days it is and will always be Elrond. And nothing is a better reminder for you than these mornings spent under the touch of sunlight.

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#rings of power #elrond #rings of power elrond #elrond x reader #elrond x y/n #elrond peredhel #elrond half elven #elrond fanfic #the rings of power #rings of power fanfiction #lord of the rings #lord of the rings fanfiction #lord of the rings fic

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gurugirl · 1 year ago

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Good Friday*

soft dom priest!harry x sub!reader

Summary: Based on this request. Y/n is a brat and she's in for it.

A/N: Thank you for this request! I did change the request slightly due to some safety 'caging' rules for while he was away but I think you'll like it. 4.8k words

Warning: 18+ only, smut (oral), bdsm w/consensual sexual punishment, use of flogger and other instruments, cage play, dom/sub dynamic, religious themes (actual bible quotes), blasphemy

Priest!harry Masterlist

It wasn’t unusual that Harry was busy. He was often pulled away from Y/n for members of his parish that needed him. But Y/n didn’t like that. She wanted to have his attention all day every day. Of course, that was impossible. Especially on Good Friday before Easter.

“Father please, let’s just stay here a little longer.” She was nearly purring as she crawled down his body to worship his frame. Both were naked in their bed together. Harry had Y/n lie on her tummy and read out of Song of Solomon as he massaged her back and bottom. He knew she would get like this so he was trying to do sweet things for her before he left her all afternoon. And now she was turned on and warm and needy. But that was exactly his plan.

“Can’t pet. You know I’ve got to get to it. I have responsibilities other than you. You know that.”

Y/n pouted and looked up at him as she continued moving down his torso, keeping her eyes locked on his. Her intent was to lick his cock and make him give in. He rarely did. His willpower astounded her.

“Please. Father, I need you,” her eyes glinted upward over his form as she lowered her mouth to his prick which was already half-plumped.

“Ah ah ah… you’re not listening to me very well, pet.” He pressed at her forehead to stop her from applying her lips to his skin. As satisfying as that would have been. He really did have things to do. And he enjoyed denying himself (and her) immediate pleasure.

She sat back as Harry got off the bed and began dressing and combing his hair. She followed him and watched with a sad face and the occasional sigh so he’d know how sad she was.

He bit the inside of his cheek to hide his smirk. He enjoyed this.

Just before he picked up his bag to leave he pointed to the bedroom as he looked at Y/n, “In the cage. I’ll be back in two hours to check on you. I’m not going to lock it since I’ll be gone so long but I do expect you to be in there for me when I return.”

She had books and a glass of water and a nice blanket so her cage wasn’t all that bad. In fact, she loved it. It had never been a punishment for her. But there was something about being in the cage while Harry was away that gave her comfort and made her feel safe.

But two hours was a long time. And when she looked at the clock and realized that Harry hadn’t returned when he said he would she began to worry. She let herself out to use the bathroom and peek out the front window. She was undressed, wearing only her red collar with its bell and her gold choker necklace. Running her fingers over the H that dangled from the necklace she straightened the curtains back out and sat on the couch.

And the longer she sat and considered everything the more upset she got. She didn’t understand why she couldn’t just go with him. There would be so many people at the church no one would catch on.

Although, there was the one time that he brought her along and she kept lingering around where Harry was and listening in and peeking around doorways to spot him.

No one noticed it but Harry did and he scolded her for it, saying she was being a little too obvious. Plus they were still treading thin ice after the prayer group incident where Mr. and Mrs. Jeralds might have seen or heard something that night. They still didn’t know either way. Which led to Harry’s new rule. That she was only allowed on regular days of service until they were certain they were in the clear.

Returning to her cage, she pulled the door closed and laid down on her side with a frown. She was a bit worried about the priest. He said two hours and it had nearly been three.

When she heard the front door open and his footsteps into the house she sat up quickly and crossed her legs, awaiting his presence. But before he went into the bedroom to see her she heard him go into the kitchen first.

Now she was angry that he didn’t immediately come to see her first. She crossed her arms and leaned back into the bars and cinched her brows together.

Harry pushed the bedroom door open and looked at the cage where his pet was sitting with a frown and body language that told him she wasn’t happy. He figured she might be a bit put out by his tardiness. Harry was never tardy.

“What’s wrong pet?” He knew what her answer would be.

Except she didn’t answer him. She stared down at her crisscrossed legs and pouted instead.

Sliding the handle to open the door Harry crouched down to get a closer look, “I asked you a question. It’s rude not to answer.”

Silence. She hugged her arms around her middle tighter and jutted her bottom lip out, face angled downward.

“I know I’m late but there’s no reason for you to act like this. You know I get held up sometimes. I’m busy, Y/n.”

The first noise that sounded from her was a scoff as she closed her eyes. She knew she’d be in for it with that.

Harry licked his lips as he nodded, “So it’s like that then? All right. Look at me.”

Y/n held her ground, not moving, nor opening her eyes. She was going to make a point.

“You’re acting like a child. Did I somehow leave a lovely and mature adult woman and come back to a bratty immature little girl?”

Turning her head to look down to the floor next to her knee she huffed and sunk into herself further.

“So that’s it then? You’re no longer my sweet lover? Just a brat? Someone that needs to be punished and not loved on?”

Her ridged composure softened the slightest. She would prefer to be loved on yes, but being a brat was always a good way to get his attention. And she knew he was leaving again soon to go back to the church for a few more hours so her best bet, in her mind, was to act out and have him put his attention on her and get him worked up in the process. Maybe he’d spank her.

Harry reached a hand in and brushed it over her naked knee, “Because I had planned on coming home to you and holding you. Giving you something special for being my good pet before I have to go back to church. Clearly, you don’t want that.”

Y/n looked up at the priest and rounded her eyes. She suddenly regretted her behavior but she was already committed so she stayed silent despite the obvious hesitation Harry saw in her.

“Come on. Get out.” Harry took her hand and gently pulled at it.

She didn’t budge at first. Not wanting to give him the satisfaction of her giving in so easily. But eventually, she did move and crawl out of the cage when Harry stood up and raised his voice to have her come out.

She sniffed as she stood and looked down at the floor.

“Look at me.”

With a heavy sigh, she slowly turned her eyes up to his.

“Good. Now, go use the bathroom. Right now.”

She knew what this meant. He was going to lock her in her cage (at the very least) while he was away and he needed to make sure she’d emptied her bladder beforehand. They’d done this before.

Silently she made her way to the bathroom as Harry filled a glass of water for her in the kitchen.

When he heard the sink turn off after she’d washed her hands he knocked on the door, “Come out here.”

She was pretty sight stepping out into the hallway. Her cheeks were hot and her little red collar looked so lovely on her neck. Harry looked down over her nude shape. Soft breasts, a pretty belly button, grabbable hips and thighs, a bottom he loved biting.

“Drink.” He handed her the glass of water and watched as she took a few gulps of it and handed it back to him.

“Is that all you want? You’re going to be in the cage for another few hours so if you get thirsty that’s going to be on you.” Harry always made sure she stayed hydrated even when she wasn’t going to be locked in her cage. He always took care of her the best he could.

She nodded silently and looked downward again.

Harry nudged her toward the bedroom and made her turn to face the cage. She half expected him to spank her or something but instead, as he walked away and then returned put the leather gag belt over her face, “Open,” he said plainly.

She opened her mouth and the silicon ball fit between her lips and silenced any noises she might have made. He secured the belt in place behind her head and removed his hands from her completely. Which she hated. She wanted him to spank her or manhandle her or something. But he was rather cold and his touch was missing completely.

“We’re going to put these in,” Harry put his hand out showing her the weighted Ben Wa balls. “Take them.”

Y/n took the balls in her hand as her priest pushed at her low back, causing her to bend forward the slightest. She heard the snap of a cap and then felt his fingers on her entrance as he smeared lubricant over her.

The set of balls were connected with a thin rubber-like string. The first one was larger and the lightest, which aided in keeping them in place inside of her, while the other two were smaller and heavier. The cord would stick out and make pulling them out easier.

Harry took the balls from her hand and pushed her thighs further apart, “Relax.”

She felt him push the first, larger ball inside, his finger plunging into her deeply to secure it before inserting the next two one by one. It was a pretty view. He loved stuffing them inside of her. Plus it was good for her pelvic floor muscle so he felt like he was doing her a favor really. Though it was more for edging her than anything else in that moment.

“Get in,” he gestured toward the door of the cage.

She climbed in, clenching to keep the balls in place, and got to her knees as she looked up at Harry with big, pleading eyes. He knew that if she weren’t gagged she’d have somehow found her voice in that moment and begged him to spank her or stay with her. But he didn’t have time to argue with her or listen to her soft voice and whimpers as he left. The gag was for that purpose. More for himself than to punish her.

Harry locked the cage and shook his head, “Had plans to love on you but instead, this is what you deserve. Had a hard day today, pet, and I still have to go back and endure more hours away from you yet you chose to act like a bratty child so I didn’t get to come back home to my pet and hold her and kiss her like I wanted. I needed you. Maybe when I return later on you’ll be better behaved.”

Harry sat the glass of water down next to the cage for her so she could reach out and grab it if she needed it. Next to that, he placed her cell phone (in case anything went wrong and he needed to return home to unlock her cage). Her heart swelled at his kind gesture and his words. Now she truly felt awful. Felt so bad for being so mean to him when all he wanted was her love. Now she’d really gone and done it.

Harry grinned to himself as he walked out the front door and headed down the street to the church. Tonight, he would have fun with his pet.

Y/n imagined all the scenarios of what would happen. Surely she’d get a good punishment when he got back. But she’d make sure to show him her appreciation. She’d be so good for him. She’d kiss his feet and say yes, Father to everything and love on him and allow him to do whatever he wanted to her.

He could have tied her up and blindfolded her too. He could have done a lot worse but he gagged her. The sentiment was clear. You don’t want to talk? Okay, we’ll make sure you don’t make even a single peep then.

And the Ben Wa balls? Those weren’t really a punishment at all. She loved how they felt inside of her. Made her feel full and each time she moved the balls slid around inside of her. She had to clench and clamp down to keep them in but that only got her more worked up and wetter by the minute.

This time Harry was away for another three hours. Just over. She’d been lying flat on her back looking up at the ceiling and watching the shadows move along the walls when the sun changed position in the sky as Harry got home.

He entered the bedroom and she quickly scrambled to her knees and looked up at him as she gripped the bars of the cage. She was sweet again. But he already planned on doing some not-so-sweet things to her.

He unlocked the cage and helped her stand up. She pressed her thighs together to hold the balls in place as he undid her gag. Three hours was a lot for the gag to be on and when he saw the way the leather dug into her skin and caused red marks he did feel a little bad. But just a little.

“Spread your legs.” He was still being quite cold with her but at least his hands were on her this time as he gripped her thighs.

She opened her legs up and Harry groaned. She was puffy and wet. The little cord that stuck out a few inches was shiny with her arousal, “Are you all hot and bothered, pet? Did this get you worked up?” He cooed as he smoothed his hands upward on her thighs and slowly got onto his knees, looping his finger into the handle and pulling.

“Yes, Father. I was imagining it was you inside of me. Almost came once but I stopped myself because I know you wouldn’t want that.”

Harry watched as the first ball made its appearance, shiny and slippery, “That’s right. I wouldn’t have been very happy if you’d let yourself come. But I hope you know you’re not going to be allowed to come at all tonight. You were a brat to me earlier.”

She bit her lip and nodded, “I’m sorry, Father. I know I was bad. I hope you can forgive me for my behavior. I don’t deserve to come. Your punishment is just whatever you decide for me.”

When Harry had removed the slippery balls he smiled as he stood and gently smeared her arousal over her mouth before putting his pointer and middle finger over her tongue and in her mouth, “There’s my good pet. Keep showing me how well-behaved you are and tomorrow I’ll give you something special in the morning like I planned earlier.”

Harry removed his hand and turned around, leaving Y/n standing breathless and needy by the cage as he cleaned the balls. She stayed put.

When he came back into the room he put the balls back into their rightful spot and pulled out a flogger. The one with oiled leather falls. The one that hurt quite a lot. But it was Y/n’s favorite when she knew she’d been bad.

She understood quite well what Harry was doing. He’d made her sit with the Ben Wa balls for hours to edge her and now he was going to flog her and not allow her to get off at all. The orgasm denial was going to be the real punishment in this scene.

Harry handed her the flogger as he pulled the metal suspension bar and straps down from the ceiling. Her eyes widened. It’d been a while since he’d had her cuffed to the suspension bar.

He pulled at the Velcro cuffs and motioned for her to come to him, “I’m sure you thought maybe I’d spank you, but you love spankings too much.” He pulled at her wrist and lifted her arm to secure her into the first cuff and then taking the flogger from her he pulled her other arm up, securing the Velcro to her wrist, “So, no spankings for you tonight. You’ll get this instead,” he tapped the leather braided handle over his palm as he spoke.

Y/n nodded silently.

“Tell me, pet, what’s happening right now.” He needed to know she was able to verbalize what was going on. A check-in of sorts.

“You’re going to punish me for being a brat, Father.”

“That’s right. You made my hard day even harder and so I’m going to make your hard day even harder too. It’s only fair. Isn’t that right?”

She nodded, “Yes, Father.”

Harry circled her frame as she tried to keep her eyes on him while he walked around her slowly.

“And what’s this for?” He gently brushed the falls over her shoulders, letting them slide down over her breasts.

“To flog me. Because I’ve been bad.”

“Yes. But why this one? We’ve got some lovely soft ones I could use. The rabbit one you love to play with. Why this one?”

“To mark me. To show me how I’ve sinned. The stripes are for the servant who knew their master’s will but did not get ready or act according to his wishes,” she quoted a partial verse from Luke in the Bible before continuing, “and so I will receive a lashing.”

Harry smiled, “Good. Smart girl. That’s exactly right. Are you ready to be made righteous again?”

“Yes, Father. Please. Make me righteous.”

The first thud over her back bit into her soft skin and stung as expected. She didn’t whimper nor make a peep. She was ready for the bite.

The second one had her hurling forward a few inches and sucking in a sharp breath.

But the third had a gasp falling from her mouth and her eyes squeezing shut at the pain.

“Blows that wound cleanse away evil; strokes make clean the innermost parts.” Harry quoted a passage in Proverbs as he issued the fourth strike.

She bit down, clamping her teeth together, and squeaked as her body swung forward.

He watched the red marks on her skin grow a deeper hue and begin to welt as he continued, “I will punish their transgression with the rod and their iniquity with stripes,” he spoke calmly as he landed the flogger down over her back again. The fifth hit.

The first tear rolled down her cheek as she tried to stay composed. The smarting sting all over her back was beginning to expand and wrap around to her ribs slowly as he brought the oiled leather falls over her back again. She yelped.

“This is for reproof, for correction, and for training in righteousness, pet. You’re doing well. I’m proud. Only four more.”

She sobbed at his praise and nodded with her lips trembling. Her fists were clenched together tight as she braced herself for number 7.

“Repeat after me,” his lips pressed onto the top of her shoulder before he got back into position behind her, “I am but a sinner seeking forgiveness.”

She opened her mouth just as he applied strike number 7 and she whimpered as she swayed forward and panted her words, “I am but a sinner seeking forgiveness.”

“Whoever conceals his transgressions will not prosper,” he draped the flogger over her back softly before bringing it down hard over her back for the 8th hit.

“Whoever conceals his transgressions will not prosper,” she spoke weakly as the pain was immense and her shoulders were beginning to ache from the way she was putting all her weight onto them.

“But he who confesses and forsakes them will obtain mercy.” Another blow to her back as she wobbled and cried out at the ninth.

“Uh…” her breath shuddered as tried to remember the words. She knew he was quoting Proverbs but suddenly the words escaped her as her mind began to stretch thin into paper and airy like dandelion seeds, bending slowly into her submissive state, “I’m sorry. I forgot, Father. I need help.”

Harry dropped the flogger to the ground as he noted her voice was tiny and that her composure had been lost. He took her wrists from the Velcro suspension bar and let her fall into his arms, “That’s enough then. You’ve done well.”

He brought her to sit on the bed next to him and lifted the glass of water up to her lips to make her drink. Her eyes were full of tears as she looked at him sweetly and gulped down a drink.

“There you go. Are you okay, pet?” He softly brushed her hair from her face and spoke quietly to see where she was.

“I’m okay, Father. I just forgot the verse you said and I couldn’t repeat it. I’m sorry. You can keep going. Only one more.”

Harry shook his head, “No that’s enough for now. I bet you’ve learned your lesson.”

Y/n whined and shook her head, “No. I need more. I was so bad. Please.”

She sunk down to the floor and put her hands on his knees and slid her palms up his brushed wool pants to the tops of his thighs, “Please.” Her rounded eyes begged him for more.

“What do you want then? Hmm? What do you think is appropriate?” He tilted her face up as he tenderly grasped her chin.

“I want you to come. I need you to or I don’t feel like I deserve your forgiveness.”

“Okay. And how should I come? What should we do to make that happen?” He brushed her wet lips and felt his heart go wild in his chest. He knew what she’d ask for. What she’d beg for. Something that she loved that was never a punishment.

“Please, have my throat and my mouth. I beg you. Choke me with your cock and come wherever you want. I’m yours to use however you please.”

Harry smiled and pushed his thumb into her mouth, “This mouth? Want me to fuck it? Gag you with my come? Is that what you want?”

She nodded, “Yes, Father, please.” Her words were mumbled over his thumb that he still had pushed into her mouth.

“Good girl,” he stood up. “Undo my pants.”

Y/n lifted her fingers to his button and then pulled at his zipper before yanking the material down and then bringing his cock out of his boxer briefs. He was already angrily hard.

“It’s so yummy, Father. My mouth is watering,” she whispered as she inspected him. His cock was right in front of her face, tempting her to taste but she would wait until he gave her permission.

Harry chuckled and wiped the drool from the edge of her mouth, “Your mouth is watering, pet. Well, then. Get to it.”

She immediately jutted her tongue out and began licking him up and down as she kept her eyes on him. This was the easy and soft part. The moments before she sucked him into her mouth and he began to fuck her face.

Harry watched his pet swipe her wet tongue over his shaft and peck warm kisses along his soft skin. A beautiful picture he wished he could have framed and hung up in his living room. He was sure that his parish would not approve.

When she finally popped his tip into her mouth and sucked he grasped her hair and sunk himself into the hilt and groaned.

Harry had been worked up since that morning when he left her. He wouldn’t last long but he would make it good, for both of them.

He began to rock his hips into her as he held the back of her head to keep her in place. She grasped onto his thighs and gagged every time his smooth tip bent down her throat.

“Keep your eyes on me, pet. Want to watch those tears fill up in your eyes.”

She did her best. It was hard to keep them open the way she knew he wanted. His cock was wide and long and every time she gagged and gurgled over him she was tempted to smush her eyelids closed. But she was determined to be the best girl she could be for him so she kept her eyes on his, even though her sight was blurred from the moisture beginning to fill in her vision.

“Yes… my sweet pet. Loves getting her throat fucked. Just made for sucking cock, aren’t you?”

Y/n hummed around him in response as he pulled out before thrusting back in, his cock curving down her throat and she heaved in reflex to the obstruction hitting her tonsils.

“Choking darling?” Harry spoke amusedly as she drooled and forced her eyes to stay open.

He could feel her nails digging into his skin tightly. If she needed air she’d let him know so he continued getting himself off in her mouth. A low groan fell from his lips as he used the hair he had carded between his fingers to move her over him as he pleased, pressing her so far down her nose grazed the skin and hair at his base.

And he was quite pleased. Even when he was holding her down on him and she was coughing and gurgling, she was still looking upward into his eyes with her bleary ones.

Her face was wet and her mouth was stretched out, puffy pink lips wrapped around his dense cock. He smiled down at her and pulled her off of him so she could catch her breath. His own chest rose and fell rapidly as he was right on the edge of his own orgasm.

“Taking me so well,” he gently wiped his thumb over her temple, “I think it’s time for your reward. What do you think?”

She nodded quickly, her fingers still pinching into his skin in anticipation of what was to come, “Need it. Please, Father.” Her voice was a bit scratchy as she spoke but he knew she’d want it.

With his fingers still in her hair he moved his other hand down to her throat, wrapping his palm around the collar as he pushed her down over his shaft and then held her in place as he began to fuck into her throat in heavy thrusts that had her wincing and swallowing around his tip with each punitive glide.

His thighs began to shake and his mumbled words and groans grew louder, “Fuck baby, fuck… Open up for me… Just like that…” He looked down at her wet, hot little face as he held her still for his cock.

He choked out a gasp as he began to come, stilling his harsh thrusts and burying himself in beyond her soft palate and uvula. His cock twitched and throbbed as she swallowed him down like the good girl she always was for him once he got her on her knees before him this way.

He watched her blink up at him with doe eyes as he pulled himself out. She gasped and heaved as saliva spilled out of her mouth and down her chin.

Harry reached for her under her arms to help her stand and gently turned her to look at her back, making sure she was still okay.

“Time to get you cleaned up, pet. Then we’ll make dinner and watch something on TV together. How’s that sound?”

Nodding her head she clung to him as he brought her into the bathroom to wipe her back with a rag and help her clean up between her legs. He had her face the mirror as he stood behind her and began to dab the cool rag onto her skin where the raised flesh was bright pink and hot under his hand.

She looked at him through the reflection of the mirror, “Thank you, Father.

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graceshouldwrite · 1 year ago

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How to Write Political Intrigue (with book recs)

POLITICAL INTRIGUE! Intrigue in general! What is it?

For the purposes of this post (as well as how it's usually used in the writing/reading community), think: scheming. Plotting. Conspiracies in the shadows, bids for power and survival, secret plans, masterful illusions, all of that stuff.

It could be on any scale that you'd like, from a duel of wits (think Light's and L's game of cat and mouse in Death Note)

...to a large-scale plot involving entire countries and their people (like any espionage networks during any major wars, such as the American Revolutionary War to World War II, and so many more)

...or even medium-sized conflicts (families, like in The Godfather, or smaller national disturbances like the Watergate scandal).

Below are 4 core tips on how you can successfully write (political) intrigue plots:

1. Read + Research

Despite how hard it may sound, it's actually pretty easy to craft a realistic yet thrilling intrigue plot—with so many examples in real life and fiction, you can easily base your plot on an existing one and just change a few things like the characters, setting, and maybe a few plot points.

History and current events are always great places to look to, but here are some books that are chock-full of great politics + intrigue:

Leviathan (Thomas Hobbes): one of the most famous treatises of politics + human nature and their intersection. The book is an in-depth exploration of human nature, government, politics, and all of the root causes of why they exist. While it does take a specific philosophical angle (you might not agree with Hobbes' ideas), they are detailed explanations of how things work + why they are required from one perspective.

48 Laws of Power (Robert Greene): GREAT BOOK for helping you plan out the means by which you want the intrigue to happen. There are lots of simplified rules that tell you why people plan and scheme (e.g. "control the options; get others to play the cards you deal," or "pose as a friend, work as a spy"). There are LOTS of really great small stories of when a rule is applied in real life that are also general plot inspo!

The Godfather (Mario Puzo): very very good, intricate, and more emotional because it deals with the intrigue surrounding families

Joseph Fouché: Portrait of a Politician (Stefan Zweig) (biography): Fouché is absolutely insane. A genius at political intrigue. His life is literally one of the craziest stories of scheming, betrayals, survival, and a general vying for power, especially behind the scenes.

The Prince (Machiavelli): obviously, I can't leave out the original tips + tricks book with explanations of WHY intrigue matters as a means, especially in terms of protecting your power.

Trust Me, I'm Lying (Ryan Holladay): a large part of intrigue plots (you need to cover up the actual game you're playing) is the manipulation of information, creating illusions and spectacles for other people to believe. This book goes in-depth about media manipulation and information wars.

Empire of Pain (Patrick Raden Keefe): takes a rather different angle, through the personal/corporate manipulation of government, as well as how wealth dynasties (especially within families) are established. Remember the opioid crisis? This book explores the generational politics of money and power that led up to that.

Prince of Thorns (Mark Lawrence): Look! Fiction! Anyway, I'm biased because it's one of my favourite works of fiction of all time, but it explores political intrigue not only through an actor participating in it, but through the lens of the common folk. I.e., the consequences all that power play has on the populace due to a lack of actual good governance...

A Song of Ice and Fire (George R. R. Martin): I haven't personally read/watched anything GoT, but it's pretty much obligatory to put this series down in a post about political intrigue. It's famous for doing it well.

2. Plan. Like, meticulously

First of all, decide what scale you want your intrigue to be on: large-scale government/international affairs type, a corporation thing, something between two people, or even within a family? There are so many possibilities.

Intrigue plots are like mysteries; they must be tightly logical to be satisfying. One of the best ways of ensuring this is through analyzing each involved party—the actors.

Each actor has their own motivations, goals, and psychologies. After you establish what they want OUT of their intrigue, think about how they'd go about achieving it: a naturally hot-headed person might try to intimidate their way into getting what they want, or they might learn through the course of the story to cool down a bit.

A naturally imaginative and analytical person might come up with all sorts of scarily genius plans, and near-flawless execution. Of course, they would also react in different ways, depending on personality. Character consistency alone will make your plot seem that much more logical.

However, cracks in logic will happen because humans are inherently imperfect and not always rational. These cracks must be DELIBERATE and realistic and must seem planned out; they can't seem more like the author forgot a detail, or didn't know how to explain something (e.g. something happened and the writer never included the consequence of it because they forgot). It must be clear that it is a flaw on the character's part.

3. Never write intrigue for the sake of the intrigue

The incentive of all scheming comes down to mainly two things: gaining power and keeping it. Of course, you could choose to explore more unusual things, such as characters exercising intrigue to satisfy boredom... (think Light and Ryuk from Death Note).

But, the bids for power, security, and survival can be used to highlight things about human nature. Themes to explore include ambition, sacrifice, the pursuit of happiness, the corruption of character, the preservation of innocence in a cruel system, etc.

4. Explore through a narrow lens

Most intrigue plots are full of complex motivations, characters, goals, and the means they use to achieve said goals.

You should gradually let your intrigue plot unfold through the POV of a few characters, preferably one or two. An omniscient narrator for this type of story is INCREDIBLY difficult to pull off without confusing the reader.

However, more POVs work if you use all of them to focus on ONE or a few intrigue plots only—it can provide a multi-layered effect, exploring the same line of action and consequence through different perspectives. But, if everyone has their own intrigue plot, it's too easy to create a tangled mess where readers can barely delineate one plot from the next.

∘₊✧────── ☾☼☽ ──────✧₊∘

instagram: @ grace_should_write

Sorry for the massive hiatus—I have officially started college!! I've been pre-occupied with settling in, classes starting, a social life, extracurriculars etc. etc...life has been super busy, but great :)

I've started working on my books as well as poetry more recently, and I'm glad I'm getting into a new workflow/lifestyle. It certainly is different, but I'm starting to enjoy it.

Anyway, I'm surprised it took me this long to do a post about this topic, considering the fact that it's basically my writergram niche and my entire personality IRL, but I think it was mainly because I was trying to find a good angle to approach this massive topic. But, stay tuned for (probably) a part 2 because there's SO MUCH MORE to cover.

Hope this was helpful, and let me know if you have any questions by commenting, re-blogging, or DMing me on IG. Any and all engagement is appreciated :)

Happy writing, and have a great day!

- grace <3

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threecheersforsuccess · 3 months ago

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I've been yapping for too many years, so I need a living masterpost of the guides and blogs from my Tumblr and Instagram. I plan to create more long-form content in the upcoming months, and I will re-do some of the prompts listed. I feel some of my old work might be outdated, so please take my wording with a chunk of salt.

I'll update my with my content as I go.

Stuff from 2024

♡ What's in my bag? (2024)

My Motivation Education Video Series (2022-2023)

♡ Part 0: Something Much Needed Among Students: Motivation ♡ Part 1: Bare Bones Definition of Motivation ♡ Part 2: Self-efficacy, I think ♡ Part 3: Where is the control? ♡ Part 4: Reward or Autopilot ♡ Part 5: Determination to Continue ♡ Part 6: Personal Interest ♡ Part 7: Outside The Model ♡ Part 8: Where is the willpower? ♡ Part 9: Is stress even a bad thing? Note: I stopped because I did not like the short video format. I'm not sure if I may pick this up again, but I do think the lessons I learned from my readings are pretty neat :)

5am.Raining's Studying Challenge (2022)

Note: A challenge led by my cool mutual 5am.raining on Instagram. I slowly figure out how to make videos. It's a little wonky at the beginning, but I find my style! I made these posts in 2022 ♡ Poorly Filmed Day in My Life! ♡ My Studying Role Model... Haruhi from Ouran... ♡ Fave Leader in My Field: Carol Dweck ♡ What gets me in the mood to study? ♡ What I want to do with my degree... ♡ My Fave Reading Assignment ♡ Study Tunes ♡ How to get back into reading books ♡ Favorite study supplies ♡ Planning Routine (2022 version) ♡ Organizing My Desk ♡ What's in my backpack? ♡ Inspiring Film or Doc on My Field ♡ Imposter Syndrome ♡ "Study Buddy" ♡ Coping with Long Study Sessions

Flipd Productivity and Motivation Challenge Blogs

Note: I yapped so hard I won the productivity challenge. I wrote these around junior year of college (2021). ♡ Long-Term Destination, Short-Term Motivation: Living in The Moment ♡ Embedding Self-forgiveness in Your Self-Care ♡ Study Essentials ♡ The Importance of Play and Breaks ♡ Quote of Week Analysis: Self-Acceptance ♡ How I Plan My Everyday ♡ The Biggest Time Management Misconception I'm Trying to Get Over ♡ Recognizing Burnout (and Listening to Yourself) ♡ Building an Academic Support System ♡ Ways to Make Yourself Take Breaks ♡ The Challenges of a Positive Mindset ♡ How I Build Habits (based on James Clear's Atomic Habits)

Diana's Studying Challenge (2021)

Note: A challenge lead by my cool mutual dianas.desk on Instagram. I made these posts in 2021. Day 1: Challenge Introduction Day 2: What Gets Me Motivated Day 3: Cleaning My Desk Day 4: Study Tunes/Songs I Listen and Avoid Day 5: Current Books I'm Reading Day 6: Relaxation! Arknights Projekt Red Bullet Journal Spread Day 7: My Happy Place Day 8: Week Reflection Day 9: How I Plan Day 10: My Summer 2021 Work Routine Day 11: My Desk Essentials Day 12: Study Snack (Natto) Day 13: Digital or Paper Notes? Which is Better? Day 14: How I Self-Care Day 15: My School Bag Day 16: Proudest Achievement Day 17: Most Favorite Productivity App/Website Blocker Day 18: Work Buddies Day 19: Inspirational Quotes Day 20: My Favorite Place to Work Day 21: #MessyDesk Day 22: Guilty Pleasure Day 23: My Favorite Study Accounts Day 24: Study Methods I Do Not Like Day 25: Trying out a new place to work? Day 26: Part 2 of My Unconventional Study Tips (same as above) Day 27: My Outfit Day 28: Making a Gratitude List Day 29: My Aspirations Day 30: Today I learned… Day 31: September Goals

My Study Tips

Note: I wrote many of these either in 2020 or very early on (2017-2018). Super old stuff. ♡ Unconventional Study Tips Part 1 + Part 2 ♡ One Effective Memorization Tip ♡ Dealing with Bad Grades: What I Do ♡ How to get 800 on the SAT in Math and Full Points on Grammar ♡ Causes of Procrastination + Methods for Each ♡ How to Study When Unmotivated ♡ Making Your Discord Study Space ♡ Ways to Go to Bed Early ♡ My Super Ultimate Guide to AP Calc AB and BC ♡ Using Your Phone Productively (2018)

Journaling

♡ How I Journal (2017) ♡ How I Use My Notebooks (2018) ♡ How to Keep a Daily Journal (2020) ♡ How to Get into Creative Journaling (2022)

Dividers by @fairytopea

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princessofmarvel · 2 years ago

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Wonderland

summary | renfield sees a woman that catches his eye and knows that he shouldn’t speak to her, but he finds that he just can’t help himself.

pairing | robert montague renfield x fem!reader

wc | 1.2k

warnings! | none! maybe some cursing and not really proof read but it’s just fluff lol

genre | fluff!

author's note! | I saw renfield on sunday and just knew that I needed to write for him lol, especially since there are only a few fics on here about him, most of them are written by the amazing @youlightmeupfinn so definitely go check those out! this is a part of my “swift series�� (where I write fics based on taylor swift songs) so if you have any requests for the swift series (or for just something that you would like for me to write) please send them in! I would be happy to write about them! and as always, I do I have really bad OCD that causes me to write in some random capitalization, and punctuation, but I think that we don't have to worry about that in this fic lol. and let me know if there are any mistakes, but please be kind!

Renfield was taking a stroll down the streets of New Orleans, he tells himself that it is to relax and to clear his head but in reality he was trying to figure out what to bring his master to eat that night. He didn’t want to bring him anyone innocent like he so desperately wanted, that's why he joined the support group in the first place, to bring those people's monsters to him. To bring people that he wouldn’t have to feel so guilty for. But, his boss didn’t like the taste of those people too much.

He spotted a coffee shop that doubled as a bookstore a few paces down and decided to slip in to sit and think about this. That was when he spotted her. Someone he knew his master would actually praise him for bringing back to the lair. She was the most stunning beauty he had ever seen. Sat in the back corner with a latte and what appeared to be a new romance novel that she was on the last few pages of. She was perfect.

Renfield ordered some tea and took a seat not too far from her, but not so close that he would seem weird. He knew he couldn’t bring her to him. No matter how much his master would appreciate it. No matter how much praise he would get for doing such a good job, he just couldn’t do it, it couldn’t, wouldn’t be her.

He wanted to speak to her, he knew he shouldn’t though. He knew that he should never involve someone like her in his life. But, he also knew that if he had the chance to, that he would regret for the rest of his life if he didn’t

The girl then got up and moved towards the bookshelf. He watched her as she spotted something on the very top shelf that she wanted. He watched as she frowned to herself and huffed and she tried to reach for it but couldn’t. He knew he shouldn’t do this, that this one simple and kind gesture would end up leading him down a rabbit hole, but his feet thought for him as he stood up and made his way to the bookshelf and reached up and grabbed the book she wanted and handed it to her.

“Thank you so much! I wish these things weren’t so tall.” She said as she looked up at him. Her voice just added to her appeal, it was soft and you could tell she was kind just from the sound of it.

“I agree, It’s like the person who invented them just wanted a cruel laugh.” He said before he could stop himself.

“Yes! Exactly! Oh I’m (Y/n) by the way.” She said as she put her hand out to him, his body taking over his mind and shaking it.

“Robert Montague Renfield” He said as he shook her soft hand.

“That’s a nice name, sounds fancy.” She said which earned a chuckle from him. “I noticed you’re alone, would you like some company Robert?” She asked. He could tell she was nervous to ask, but seemed like she wasn’t asking out of pity, but out of genuine interest in talking to him. He found himself saying yes and following her back to her table in the corner.

The two spoke for hours, she asked about where he was from, which led to him talking about how hard it is to find good tea in america. He asked about the new book she had picked up, which was ‘Alice in wonderland’, which led to her talking about her love for the 1951 animated movie (He made a mental note to watch it later). They just laughed and talked for hours. Then the conversation led to work. He found himself telling her about having a narcissistic boss that worked him to the bone. And, it never seemed like he really Appreciated it. Then he accidentally let it slip that his boss made him feel like he was undeserving of happiness. He regretted it immediately because he saw how sad it made the girl look.

“Oh Robert, that's just not true. Everyone is deserving of happiness.” She held up her hand to keep him from interrupting and stopping her. “I know it seems like sometimes you don’t, maybe because you’ve done some things that you regret, but as long as you make peace with those things and accept those things, to know that they were the wrong things to do. And, you work to better yourself from them. Then there is no reason why you should not deserve happiness.” She said to him with a smile.

Then he realized that her hand was laying on top of his from across the table. She must have realized that she had done that because she pulled her hand away and seemed slightly embarrassed.

“Thank you, you don’t know how much I needed to hear that.” he said while looking at her. He felt like he needed to change the subject, in fear of making things awkward. “So, what do you do for work?”

“Oh, I uh, work here actually.” she said finally looking back at him after feeling embarrassed. “Oh god i seem pathetic, I swear I have a life and friends, I just like to come here when I have some time to relax.” She said while letting out a small laugh.

“You don’t seem pathetic, I would do the same if my work place was as relaxing as here.” Renfield said while giving her a soft smile.

“I actually go in later, wait what time is it?” She checked her phone and jumped up out of her seat when she saw the time. “Oh my god I was supposed to start an hour ago, and I’m here, Linda why didn’t you say anything?” She said turning around towards the older woman working the register. Who in return gave her a wink and a smile before tending to the customer now in line, the first in hours.

“I’m so sorry Robert, I have to go.” She said as she gathered her things. He knew he shouldn’t, but he needed to see her again.

“Perhaps we could do this again sometime?” he said, folding his jacket over his arms.

“I would love to, you could give me your number and we could plan something.” The girl said with a smile.

“Oh, I don’t have a phone.” He said, which he immediately regretted since he knew in this day and age was weird. “I broke it yesterday, I was going to replace it tomorrow.” He said quickly thinking of something. “But, I can pick you up here this weekend, if you would be interested.”

“That sounds great, what time?”

“I was thinking maybe around 1:00? I hear the weather will be nice on Saturday, so I thought maybe we could have a picnic.” He said, knowing that doing something during the day would mean that his boss could not interrupt it,

“That sounds wonderful, It’s a date.” She said while making her way to the registrar. “I’ll see you then Robert.”

He smiled and said goodbye as he made his way out the door and onto the street, the sun starting to go down. He had realized what exactly he had done. He knew that he couldn’t let his boss find out about her, and he also knew how hard that would be to do. But, knowing that he would get to be with her, made how hard this would be worth it.

“Oh fuck me.” he said making his way back to his boss, but with a smile on his face, something that hadn’t truly been there in a long time.

#renfield #renfield imagine #renfield fanfic #renfield x reader #renfield fluff #robert montague renfield #r.m. renfield #renfield fic #renfield movie #nicholas hoult #nicholas cage #ben shwartz #awkwafina

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stagefoureddiediaz · 4 months ago

Note

What IS this "friend of Dorothy" theory? I know it's connected to the wizard of Oz and over the rainbow as gay symbols or something, but I'm otherwise clueless...

Hey!!

Thanks for stopping by and asking - you’ve given me the perfect place to talk queer history 😎🤓

So a friend of Dorothy is LGBTQ+ slang for a gay man.

It’s precise origins and use as an lgbtq term isn’t fully know but it is believed to predate the 1939 Wizard of Oz movie. The theory is that its use came about based on several references in the original Frank Baum books the film is based on (which if you haven’t read I highly recommend), espeically the second one - the road to Oz. In that book, Dorothy’s friends are described as queer and her reply to that comment is that queerness doesn’t matter as long as they’re friends. There is possible innuendo related to the scarecrow when he comments that you can go both ways along the yellow brick road (his line is ‘of course some people go both ways’). And the princess Ozma in the books is viewed as one of the first transgender character in literature (it’s too long to go into in detail but basically ozma is given to a witch - mombi- who transforms her into a boy called Tip so that the rightful heir to the oz throne is usurped.

The 1939 film can be argued to take things further - all of Dorothy’s three friends have queer attributes - for example the cowardly lion is a dandy lion (which is a play on Dandelions the flower, but also on the dandy - a specific type of man that became a thing in the regency (1800’s) era and transformed men’s fashion. Beau Brummell was a major force in the development of the dandy look. He was very close friends with the prince regent of England and it is rumoured the two were lovers (there is plenty of circumstantial evidence but no official proof has come to light and the royal family keep a lot of that information under wraps if it wasn’t previously destroyed) until their very public falling out!). Other things that contribute are the change from black and white to colour in the film - which was done in large part as a way of showcasing the new Technicolor technology, but can also be viewed as a metaphor for Dorothy escaping the black and white morally rigid small town she came from and ending up in city in a world full of colour with friends equally as colourful. The song over the rainbow became a queer anthem after the films release and in part (the fact she was also one of the first stars to have her life splashed over the tabloid press in gory detail and was othered because of it was also a part of it - along with her intense stage fright and deep self doubt about her talent whilst simultaneously being an electric and absorbing performer when onstage) led to Judy garland becoming a queer icon (something she embraced) and the rainbow from the wizard of oz and from that song was a contributing factor in the adoption of the rainbow flag as a symbol of the gay community and then the wider lgbtq community (and that hs obviously developed further into the progress pride flag we have today).

Because in a pre stonewall world (stonewall happened in the days immediately after Judy’s death - it’s never been fully stated as the reason for the riots, but it may well have been a contributing spark that help ignite them), Judy had become a gay icon through ‘over the rainbow’ and the wizard of oz, her concerts were a way for gay men to meet and thus referring to themselves as a friend of Dorothy’s as a way of subtly letting other know their sexuality with a greatly reduced risk of persecution. I could go much more into Judy garlands backstory because it’s fascinating and very much related to queerness in Hollywood but I don’t have the time to right now - I recommend looking into it though there are a couple of great biographies on her or there are many documentaries that look at her life!

I hope that’s helped 😎💜

#kym answers things #kingaofthewoods asks #friend of Dorothy #lgbtq history #the wizard of oz

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matttgirlies · 8 months ago

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Matt & Me🎀

1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 13 14 15 16 17 18 19 20 21 22 23 24

a story heavily based on Priscilla Presley’s Book “Elvis & Me” based in the 1950’s - 1970’s.

fem! reader x singer! matt

disclaimer!! - in no way am i saying matt would ever support or do these kind of things, for the sake of the book certain unethical things do happen at times.

warnings - death of loved one,, age gap

Chapter 2

The fog was so thick on the Autobahn back to Wiesbaden that I didn’t get home until 2 a.m. My parents had waited up, wanting to know everything that had happened. I told them Matt was a gentleman, that he was funny and entertained his friends all night, and that I’d had a wonderful time.

The next day in school, I couldn’t concentrate. My thoughts were entirely on Matt. I tried to recall every word he’d said to me, every song he’d sung, every look in his eyes as he’d gazed at me. I went over and over our conversation. His charm was captivating. I told no one. Who would ever believe that just the night before, I’d been with Matt Sturniolo?

I never expected to hear from him again. Then, a few days later, the phone rang. It was Steven. He said he’d just got a call from Matt, who wondered if it was possible for Steven to bring me over that night. I was ecstatic. “Steven, you don’t mean it? He wants to see me? Why? When did he call?” Unable to answer all my questions, Steven said calmly, “You want me to ask your father?”

My parents were as surprised as I. They reluctantly acceded to Steven’s request.

The next visit was very much like the one before—small talk, singing, Matt playing the piano, and everyone eating Grandma’s favorite dishes. But later, when Matt had finished singing, he came up to me. “I want to be alone with you, y/n.”

We were standing face to face, staring into each other’s eyes. I looked around. The room was empty.

“We are alone,” I replied nervously.

He moved closer, backing me against the wall. “I mean really alone,” he whispered. “Will you come upstairs to my room?”

The question threw me into a panic. His room?

Until that moment, it hadn’t crossed my mind that Matt Sturniolo might be interested in me sexually. He could have any girl in the world. Why would he want me?

“There’s nothing to be frightened of, Honey.”

As he spoke, he was smoothing my hair. “I swear I’ll never do anything to harm you.” He sounded absolutely sincere. “I’ll treat you just like a sister.” Flustered and confused, I looked away.

“Please.”

Standing there looking into his eyes, I was drawn to him almost against my will. I believed him; it wasn’t a difficult thing to do. I had discovered by now his intentions were warm and sincere. Moments went by and I still couldn’t do anything. Then I nodded. “All right, I’ll go.”

He took my hand and led me toward the stairs, whispering which room was his, and said, “You go on ahead, and I’ll join you in a few minutes. It looks better.”

He headed toward the kitchen as I slowly climbed the stairs, wondering, What would he demand of me? Expect of me? I will be completely alone with him for the first time. Since meeting him I had dreamed of this moment, sure that it would never arrive, and now I was in the midst of a reality I’d never expected.

I reached the second floor and found his bedroom. It was as plain and impersonal as the other rooms of the house. I went in and sat down primly on a stiff-backed chair—and waited. When Matt didn’t show up after a few minutes, I began to look around. It was an ordinary room with nothing unusual, certainly nothing to imply that it belonged to a famous rock-and-roll singer. There were books, a collection of records, his uniforms, and his boots. There were several letters from girls in the States on his night table. Many were from someone named Nicole. Matt rarely mentioned Nicole, but everyone knew he had a girl back home. I wanted to read the letters but was afraid he’d catch me. It was another twenty minutes before he finally appeared. He came in, removed his jacket, turned on the radio, and then sat down on his bed. I hardly looked at him, petrified of what he might expect. I imagined him grabbing me, throwing me down on the bed, and making love to me.

Instead he said, “Why don’t you come over here and sit next to me?” I was reluctant, but he assured me that I had nothing to be afraid of. “I really like you, y/n. You’re refreshing. It’s nice to talk to someone from back home. I miss that. It gets a little lonely here.”

I sat next to him, saying nothing, but I was touched by his vulnerable, boyish quality. He went on to say that our relationship was going to be important to him and that he needed me. It was October and he was scheduled to return to the States in six months. He knew lots of girls, he said, and many had come to visit as I had, but I was the first girl with whom he felt a real closeness.

I cuddled into his arms, certain he would not move too fast. He held me closely, saying, “I just wish Mom could have been here to meet you.” He sighed and a troubled look came over his face. “She would have liked you as much as I do.”

“I wish I could have met her,” I whispered, moved by his sincerity.

I was to learn that Matt’s mother, Mary Lou, was the love of his life. She had died on August 14, 1958, at age forty-two, of heart failure following a long siege of acute hepatitis.

He expressed how deeply he loved and missed her and how in many ways he dreaded returning to Graceland without her there. It had been his gift to her, a private estate that he’d purchased for $100,000 a year before she died.

Matt believed that his mother had eventually given up on life. Her health had begun to deteriorate when he was drafted. Her love for James and Matt was so great that she could never face the loss of either of them and often said she wanted to be the first to go. In Mary Lou’s naive, country way she assumed that Germany still represented war and danger. She could never comprehend that peacetime conditions now prevailed.

It was Matt’s habit to phone Mary Lou every day. I was surprised to learn that up until the time he began entertaining, he never spent a night away from home. He told me of the time his car caught on fire while on the road and he barely escaped with his life. Although she was miles away, Mary Lou sat straight up in her bed and screamed his name—the intuitive link between them was that strong. Her concern for his welfare while he was away from home was so great that she would spend sleepless nights until his call came, telling her he was safe.

When he was in basic training at Fort Hood, Texas, he rented a house off base for James, Mary Lou, and Grandma. I felt that her death affected him more than anyone could fully understand. He blamed himself for not being with her when she fell ill and had to be sent back home to Boston under a doctor’s care.

In time he realized that Mary Lou had resorted to drinking, and he was very concerned that this could become a problem. As much as he consoled her, assured her that he would return in eighteen months, and even begged her to join him, Mary Lou’s fear of losing her only son drove her to her grave.

Matt’s unrelieved depression over Mary Lou’s death was intensified by the conflict in Matt’s mind over Angela Stanley, who James had met in Germany. Angela and his father had become inseparable shortly after Mary Lou’s death, too soon to Matt’s liking. An attractive blonde in her thirties, Angela was in the process of divorcing her husband and was separated from him and her three children when she started dating James. The thought that his father could ever conceive of replacing Mary Lou upset Matt terribly. He also had doubts about Angela’s intentions and whether they were in his father’s best interest.

“What’s Angela trying to do?” Matt sometimes asked suspiciously. “Make him into some dude he’s not? Why can’t she just accept him the way he is? I’ve never seen him so lovesick. She meets him at some restaurant and exchanges love notes all day.”

My heart went out to Matt that night as he confided his problems and worries. He was a world-famous entertainer, a great star, and yet a terribly lonely man.

Again our visit seemed to end too soon. He kissed me goodbye, my first real kiss. I had never experienced such a mixture of affection and desire. I was speechless but closely tied to the reality of where I was—locked in his arms, my mouth against his. Aware of my response—and my youth—he broke away first, saying, “We have plenty of time, Little One.” He kissed my forehead and sent me home.

By our fourth date, Dad had laid down the law: “If you want to continue seeing Matt, we’re going to have to meet him.” My parents weren’t so enthralled with his celebrity status that they were willing to compromise their principles. In the beginning it was convenient for Steven to come for me and bring me home, but by now my parents were asking why Matt didn’t do this himself. One Saturday night I said to Matt, “My parents want to meet you. They want you to pick me up.”

He bristled. “What do you mean?”

“I mean,” I said nervously, “I can’t come see you anymore unless you come and meet my parents.”

He agreed—provided he could bring his father along.

That day I went through my usual routine except instead of being ready one hour in advance it was two. I waited by the window, looking for his car as I played his records“Old Shep,” “I Was the One,” and “I Want You, I Need You, I Love You”—nonstop until my father yelled from the kitchen, “Do you have to play those records now? My God, the man will be here in a few minutes and you see him practically every night. I’d think you’d want to take a breather from each other.”

I was nervous. I knew that Dad wanted Matt to both pick me up and bring me home himself—and he planned to tell Matt this.

I didn’t know how Dad was going to approach him—whether he planned to be friendly or stern—and I knew only too well how stern Dad could be. I sat there, anticipating the worst.

About an hour later, I spotted Matt’s BMW and saw Matt and his father emerge from the car. Matt had come totally prepared; he was wearing his uniform to impress Dad. He knew that the service was their connection, and he played on it. He looked great.

He took off his hat and kissed me on the cheek. I asked him and his father in and led them into our living room, where Matt fidgeted and seemed, for once, at a loss for words. “Are your parents here?” he ventured. I could manage only a nod and he continued, “I know we’re a little late, but I had to get cleaned up—and we had some trouble finding the place.” I was amused—imagine, Matt Sturniolo making up excuses. I was now sufficiently aware of his habits to know that it took him three hours to change, chat with the boys, enjoy one of Grandma’s huge meals, and sign a few autographs along the way. Except when he was working, he had a stricter attitude toward time.

While James settled on the couch, Matt pointed to our family portraits on the wall and said, “Look here, Dad—here’s y/n with her whole family. I think she looks like her mother. Can’t see too much resemblance with her brothers or sister—they’re still a little too young.” “Don’t cut your hair, Baby. I love it long like this. You’re one pretty girl. How’d I happen to run into you? Must be fate.” The last few observations were uttered in a whisper to me as my parents came in.

Instead of saying, “Hi,” as most young men would have done, Matt put out his hand and said, “Hello, I’m Matt Sturniolo and this is my dad, James.”

It sounded silly to me, they knew who he was, as did the whole world. But Matt was the perfect gentleman. My father was visibly impressed, and from that moment on, Matt always addressed him as Captain y/ln or Sir. This was characteristic of Matt, whatever a person’s position in life—whether doctor or lawyer, professor or motion-picture director, unless someone were in Matt’s immediate circle, Matt rarely used first names, even in dealing with people he’d known for years. As he once explained to me, “It’s simple. They’ve worked hard to get where they are. Someone should respect them.”

The conversation with my parents that night was just small talk. Matt said that he’d spent a busy day at the Kaserne and this led to an exchange about the service.

“What did they assign you to over here?” Dad asked, implying that it had better be a solid job if Matt wanted to take out his daughter.

“Sir, right now I’m basically driving a jeep for the Fourth Armored Division in Bad Nauheim.”

“That can be tough this time of year.”

“You’re not kidding, sir. We’ve had some pretty cold nights out there already. I have to be especially careful. I battle tonsillitis when my resistance gets low, which isn’t good for my voice.”

“I guess you’re looking forward to going home.”

“Yes, sir. Only five more months.”

Then Matt asked my parents how they liked being stationed in Germany.

“Very much,” Dad said. “We plan on being here for three years.”

There was a sudden silence. Then Dad offered dinner, but Matt said they didn’t have time. I sat attentively, observing Matt’s uneasiness and remembering his relaxed manner in his own home. He was on his best behavior and it was endearing. Mother was reserving judgment about this rock-and-roll star she had professed to dislike so much. I could see that his Southern charm was winning her over.

Finally, my father got around to explaining to Matt the y/ln dating rules. If he wanted to see me, Matt had to pick me up and bring me home. Matt explained that by the time he got off duty, went home, cleaned up, came to Wiesbaden and back, the evening would be gone. Would it be all right if his father would collect me?

Dad mulled this over, then expressed his concern. “Just what is the intent here? Let’s face it: You’re Matt Sturniolo. You have women throwing themselves at you. Why my daughter?”

Both Matt and James were caught offguard. James shifted from one side of the chair to the other, probably thinking, Okay, Matt, how are you going to get out of this one?

Matt said, “Well, sir, I happen to be very fond of her. She’s a lot more mature than her age and I enjoy her company. It hasn’t been easy for me, being away from home and all. It gets kinda lonely. I guess you might say I need someone to talk to. You don’t have to worry about her, Captain. I’ll take good care of her.”

Matt’s honesty disarmed Dad, just as it did my mother. I joined Matt as he stood, picked up his hat, and added, “Well, sir, we’ve got a long drive.”

There was one stipulation: Matt himself had to bring me home. He agreed, reassuring them that I would be well taken care of, that there were a lot of family members at his house. He could have ridiculed Dad’s request, yet he agreed to take me home every night. I was thrilled but contained my excitement. He really wanted to be with me.

The next night, when Matt brought me home, we parked in front of the pension. He poured out his heart to me, as he would continue to do throughout our time in Germany. He was lonely. He was unsure of how he would be received by his fans when he returned to the States.

When he’d entered the Army, he had been at the pinnacle of his fame. He’d recorded seventeen straight million-selling singles and had starred in four films, all of which had become box-office hits. When Matt was drafted there had been talk of him possibly joining the Special Services, where he could have sung and retained some rapport with the public. But Colonel William, his manager, and RCA were convinced that he should serve his country as a regular soldier, claiming that the public would respect Matt as a man if he went in as a buck private. Now Matt was afraid he might have lost the support of his fans.

While we were parked, one of the Frauleins who lived in the pension passed the car. She greeted me and then, when she glanced at Matt, her mouth dropped open in disbelief.

a/n - i know this is a slower paced story but its solely based off the book. there will be quite a lot of chapters and time skips so don’t worry too much! 🎀

Excerpt from: "Elvis and Me" by Priscilla Beaulieu Presley. Scribd.

This material may be protected by copyright.

#chris sturniolo #christopher sturniolo #matt sturniolo #sturniolo edit #sturniolo fanfic #sturniolo imagine #sturniolo smut #sturniolo triplets #sturniolo x reader #nick sturniolo #matt stuniolo fanfic #matthew sturn #matthew sturniolo #Spotify

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columboscreens · 2 years ago

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heya. i was wondering what your favorite columbo episodes are where columbo knows who the killer is really quickly and then spends the rest of the episode putting the thumbscrews on and teasing them to hell and back. any suggestions?

whether you think of columbo as an eldritch supernatural entity or a regular human guy, a lot of people assert that he always knows who the killer is right off the bat.

i'm of the opinion that he forms very strong hunches based on early clues, but doesn't make certain assumptions until more evidence accumulates. there's a lot of boring legwork that we don't see simply because columbo is a good show that tends to avoid unnecessary exposition, and the episodes do have to fit within 70-90 minute timeframes. but there is rigor with which he gathers information, forms hypotheses, and tests them. he can have his convictions shaken, even if only temporarily. he can be led completely astray as seen in columbo cries wolf. he's not perfect.

sometimes though, columbo is indeed so intuitive and the murderer so stupid that the man slam dunks his person of interest in minutes if not seconds. here are a few standouts to me:

rx murder: a baby-faced columbo watches as a man enters his residence after a long trip without his wife and doesn't even say hello to her. columbo, an ardent Wife Lover, cannot comprehend this and immediately skewers the man for it.

oh, you didn't love your wife? couldn't be me

etude in black: local genius alex benedict leaves big fat flower at scene of crime for columbo to spot immediately.

okay this is actually embarrassing. you fucking fool. imbeclie. rube

suitable for framing/double shock/greenhouse jungle/death hits the juckport: how many times can insufferable dickhead nephews kill their rich uncles. and vice versa.

mind over mayhem: ten minutes flat. real know real, cigar smoker know cigar smoker

candidate for crime: columbo rides nelson hayward's ass immediately, emphatically, and unrelentingly merely because the light was off in his garage. especially satisfying episode since hayward is a politician and annoying as fuck

swan song: columbo collects some eyebrow-raising evidence at the crash (cash?) site before he's quite literally told who the murderer is by johnny cash's insane squirrel-munching brother-in-law

when some guy just does your job for you

troubled waters: robert vaughn's errant pillow feather in a sterile sick bay immediately solves the case for columbo, who, funnily enough, met him before he'd even killed anyone. the rest of the episode is just us fawning over columbo sweating in a crisp brown polyester hawaiian shirt while LARPing as sherlock

very nice shading on these warmups sir. but why'd ya drawr em so tiny

try and catch me: columbo has read an agatha christie book

murder under glass: slimy french chef who arrives to the scene immediately when called by police seems wholly unconcerned about having shared a meal with a poisoned man and thus implicates himself expeditiously

#columbo #ask #longpost #prescription murder #etude in black #suitable for framing #double shock #the greenhouse jungle #death hits the jackpot #candidate for crime #swan song #troubled waters #try and catch me #murder under glass

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btsficsandsuch · 1 year ago

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A First Kiss and a Lie

When asked, Yoongi lies about your first kiss which leads to an argument and a revelation as to why.

Kind of based on an episode of The Big Bang Theory.

“Y/N I love you and they will love you too.”, your boyfriend Yoongi said trying to calm your nerves. The two of you were standing outside the dorm heading to have dinner with the rest of the group. You were meeting them for the first time and you were pretty nervous. “I know I just really want them to like me.”, you said. He smiled and squeezed your hand before opening the door and leading you inside.

The boys instantly ran up and greeted you with hugs and asking a million questions. Jimin grabbed your hand and led you to the kitchen offering you a drink causing Yoongi to smile. He knew you’d fit right in. Dinner went smoothly and wasn’t as bad as you had thought. They continued to ask you questions trying to get to know you even though Hobi said they felt like pretty much knew you since Yoongi talked about you nonstop causing your boyfriend to groan and turn a light shade of red.

After dinner Yoongi invited you to stay and hang out. The two of you cuddled up on the couch while Jungkook and Jin played a video game and Namjoon was reading a book. Taehyung came and sat down next to the two of you with a smile on his face, “So Y/N how did you get this guy to turn into such a softy?”You chuckled at his question while Yoongi rolled his eyes. “I don’t know. I think he’s secretly always been a softy at heart.”, you said before giving him a kiss on the cheek.

Taehyung laughed at how Yoongi pretended to be disgusted. Yoongi’s phone started ringing and he excused himself as it was an important call he had been waiting for. Taehyung slid over closer to you, “Soooo Y/N how are things with Yoongi? I heard he’s quite the romantic these days. Even planning your first kiss at that cabin he rented for you two on your birthday.” You thought back to that trip three weeks ago, it was really nice and sweet and you had a great time but it caught your attention that Taehyung had said your first kiss was there. Your first kiss was actually at a party a few months ago.

Before you could question him Yoongi returned and shooed Taehyung away so he could take his seat next to you back. “What are you two talking about?”, he asked. “I was asking Y/N about your romantic antics like renting that cabin for your first kiss.”, Taehyung said. “Yeah Yoongi. How come you told them that you were planning our first kiss at the cabin even though we had already kissed at that party?” He shook his head, “No Y/N our first kiss was at the cabin remember? While you were showering I built a fire and lit a bunch of candles and then when you came out I played that song I wrote for you and then at the end of it I leaned in and kissed you.” With anger starting to rise you shook your head, “No it was at that party in the back yard on that bench. How do you not remember our first kiss?”

Taehyung could sense the tension and excused himself feeling guilty for causing this argument. You were glaring at Yoongi. Suddenly not feeling like being social you turned to look at him, “Can we please go home? I’m not feeling well.” Yoongi didn’t say anything. He just nodded his head. The two of you apologized for ending the evening early and said your goodbyes before making your way to his car. The ride home was silent for the most part. As you thought about Yoongi not remembering your first kiss the sadness in you bubbled up to the service and a few tears slipped out. Yoongi looked over and saw you wiping at your eyes, “Please don’t cry Y/N.”

“How can you not remember our first kiss? I thought that moment was so special. It was the moment I started to fall in love with you. And you don’t even remember it.”, you said the tears coming in full force now. He sighed, “Y/N why do we have to argue about this? Why cant we just agree that our first kiss was that night at the cabin?” Thankfully he just pulled up into the parking lot of your shared apartment and you got out of the car slamming the door behind you and stormed inside not waiting for him.

Once inside he tried to grab your hand but you pushed him off of you, “I’m going to take a shower. Maybe you should sit here and decide how much else of our relationship you want to forget.”

You set the water as hot as you could handle hoping to wash away the anger. While in the shower you started to replay everything over and over in your head and you started to feel bad. You shouldn’t have gotten so upset with him. It’s not like he lied about having a first kiss or anything. And he did work really hard to make that kiss at the cabin memorable. After your shower was finished you felt better and more relaxed. You got dressed and made your way out of the bedroom to find Yoongi and apologize. Luckily you didn’t have to look too far. You found him sitting on the couch in the dark staring out of the window. You swear you heard him sniffle when you first walked in which broke your heart.

You made your way over to him slowly so you didn’t startle him and lowered yourself down on the couch. “I’m sorry I got so upset with you. I was just hurt that you didn’t remember our first kiss.”, you said while wrapping your arms around his waist. He put his arm around you and you both sat there in silence for while. “I do remember our first kiss. It was that night at the party. We were sitting on the bench next to the flower garden. You were wearing that pink dress. You looked so pretty. I had wanted to kiss you all night but I was so scared.”, he said with a smile thinking back to that night.

“If you remember all of that then why did you lie and tell everyone our fist kiss was that night at the cabin?”, you said turning to look at him. “I hated that our first kiss was that night at the party.”, he said biting his lip. You were about to argue again but he continued, “I had just gotten in that huge fight with my brother. I was angry and crying. I smelled like whiskey and was really drunk. I mean I almost missed your mouth because I couldn’t see straight.” You both chuckled at that memory.

Yoongi grabbed your hand and held it in his, “I wanted a redo on our first kiss. That’s why I planned that whole cabin trip and tried to make it special so that it could be memorable to us for all the right reasons. I wanted to have a nice story to tell people if they asked and not just say yeah it was a drunken kiss at a party neither of us wanted to be at. I always thought maybe you’d be embarrassed to tell people that was our first kiss as you deserve better than that.”, he said shyly looking over at you.

You thought for a few moments about what he had said your heart swelling with love for him. “Okay the cabin kiss will be our first kiss. It is a really nice story.”, you said before giving him a kiss. Yoongi flashed a big gummy smile before leaning his head on your shoulder, “Thank you Y/N. I really appreciate that.” “Yeah plus I’ll get to see you get all flustered every time I tell that story and people realize you’re not cold hearted but actually a big romantic goofball.”, you said laughing as Yoongi pushed you onto the couch tickling you as revenge.

#bts fanfic #bts #bts x reader #yoongi x reader #yoongi fanfic #bts fluff #bts imagines #bts yoongi #yoongi fluff #yoongi angst #yoongi imagine #yoongi x y/n #min yoongi

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ruruumin · 1 year ago

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meet me in amsterdam.

₊˚ ᗢ alhaitham x gn!reader, modern au.

⤷ based on the song, "meet me in amsterdam" by rini.

"I would sail across the world, row this boat from dusk til dawn."

Al-Haitham glances over at your figure, watching as you skipped rocks against the lake. The two of you abandoned your senior prom in favor of star gazing. He was dressed in a simple black tuxedo, with you wearing a rather fanciful garment. In true Al-Haitham fashion, he keeps a pair of headphones covering his ears. You, on the other hand, were dressed reasonably well tonight. The jewelry that hangs from your neck shimmered underneath the moon’s light. He resists the urge to reach out with his fingers to tuck your hair behind your ear.

The two of you originally came with different partners. Al-Haitham had an inkling to ask you to the dance but had been beaten by the Inazuman transfer student. So he ended up settling on taking Nilou. It must have been fate that led to both your partners leaving you to converse with one another. The silver-haired man doesn’t know whether or not he should pump up his fist in satisfaction, or give you sympathy. On one hand, he was glad that your partner walked off to talk to Nilou. On the other hand, he hated the heartbroken look plastered across your face when you were left alone on the dance floor.

And so here you were. He grabbed you by the hand, ignoring your protests, and dragged you to a place that no other teenager would be on a Saturday night. You joked to him that he might be taking you to a secluded location to murder you, to which he replied with a snarky comment about how no one in this world would consider taking you out. Not because of the low percentages of murder in your hometown, but because he’d be the person protecting you. It’s cheesy, he has to admit. He read a couple of romance novels to prepare himself for a possible relationship with you, so he figured that being that knight in fairy tales might help him come off as heroic or reliable.

He notes the way your frown turns into a small smile. Did he do something right? He dares to hope so. After knowing you for the majority of high school, he has yet to figure out whether or not you enjoyed his presence. Sure, you might say you tolerate him, but he just wishes that you could just admit it directly. Say that you liked to be with him. Say that you liked going out with him on Wednesdays. Say that you liked walking back home with him. He only wants a few words of appreciation and desire from you. Anything could do. As long as it's from you.

You don’t say much other than a few words about how the stars look bright tonight. You press your lips together, your eyes beginning to brim with tears as you try to tear your thoughts away from the misfortunes of prom. Al-Haitham can see the way you press your hand against the lower half of your face, your lips shivering at the cold weather.

He nonchalantly takes off his jacket and pulls it over your shoulders. You stare at him with a surprised reaction, something that pulls him closer to you. He holds himself back from doing anything more and sighs under his breath, brushing aside a few strands of his slightly messy hair. You squeeze the edges of his jacket, holding it close to you. Al-Haitham calls your name. He points to a few stars dancing above the clouds, dragging your eyes to where his fingers landed. He takes the time to describe to you a few of the constellations.

You can see the way his lips curve into a smile as his eyes glimmer at the prospect of sharing new information with you. You try not to laugh in the middle of his explanations. He’s always been so passionate about knowledge. Always digging his nose into books when everyone else would rather party or watch movies. He’s the most exciting friend you had and one that you can’t explain your feelings for. He keeps you grounded. Pulling you back when you start to wander a little too far.

Slowly easing yourself closer to his figure, you let your pinkies touch. He says nothing when they do. His ears grow slightly hot but he stays focused on talking about the Northstar. Saying nothing more to him, you lean your head against his shoulder, humming in contentment as his voice drowns out the worries in your head. Prom wasn’t as bad as you thought it would be. Perhaps you should have gone with him from the very beginning.

"There ain't no sunshine, no sunshine, where I was before."

Kaveh groans and reaches out to open Al-Haitham’s door, seeing that the room was pitch dark except for the small night light illuminating his restless figure. It was the same night light you’d gifted him when he was a high schooler, believing that it might scare away the restless nightmares that haunted him. It was a childish reason, Al-Haitham claims, he’s not some child that needs light because he’s afraid of the darkness. Yet he uses it every night, even now, when he’s in college. Not that you would know.

Kaveh scratches the back of his neck, leaning against the frame of the door, complaining about the tossing and turning he could hear from the other room. He wants to scold the younger man, but when he sees the way tears prickle at the edges of his eyes, he can’t seem to say anything. He presses his lips together as the silver-haired man pulls himself together. He’s in an upright sitting position with his back against the headboard, his arm held up in an attempt to shield his tears from the blond.

This was the first time the older man saw him so defensive. He’s always been high in the clouds, too far out of reach for him to believe that he could love. It’s absurd, he understands. Al-Haitham is human. He’s made of the same components as himself. He has flesh and blood running through him. A heart that beats a little too quickly to be caught. And being human comes with complicated feelings that twist and churn in his stomach.

Kaveh restrains himself from letting out a sigh when Al-Haitham wipes away at the corner of his eye, narrowing his eyes towards his roommate. He tries to snap at him with a snarky comment in an attempt to push him away. However, the blond knows him. Perhaps a little more than Al-Haitham gives him credit for. He pushes through the invisible force that drives him away, his figure resting at the end of his bed as he finally lets go of the breath he’s holding.

He knows about you through photos. Pictures Al-Haitham left on his phone. He wasn’t one to snoop yet when he saw your glimmering smile on the front of his wallpaper, it screamed to him. His curiosity got the better of him and he wanted to know who this mysterious person was. Don’t blame Kaveh for remembering Al-Haitham’s password. It was a straight line down the keypad: 2580852. Anyone could remember it. And he needs to change it asap if he doesn’t want Kaveh to see anything unnecessary.

He figures that something occurred between the two of you for him to act so vulnerable. Al-Haitham was the kind of person who would hide his feelings underneath snotty comments and a stoic face. But underneath he can be just as vulnerable as the next person. He has feelings and emotions that he is confused by. It stings and he doesn’t know what he could do to fix it. Reading books about his symptoms only leads him to a path of more confusion and utter nonsense. Had the circumstances been different, Kaveh would have mocked him for being a hopeless romantic.

Yet now was not the time. Even if he did theoretically hate Al-Haitham for his messy habits around the house, his incapability to clean up after himself, and the way he toss and turned in bed causing Kaveh to wake up in the middle of the night, he couldn’t leave him like this. So he asks him if he’s okay. His eyes eyeing him from the side as Al-Haitham lets out a scoff, shrugging it off. Very typical of him.

There was a moment of silence between the two. Neither of them talked. They only rested their shoulders, letting them slump over. Al-Haitham turns to the night light, his teal irises flickering from its existence to Kaveh’s. He figures that it was time to tell him about the darkness that plagues his mind. It would be better than clogging it up in every nook and cranny of his mind. And perhaps Kaveh might sympathize a little. Maybe he’d grow a bit more quiet around the house. And stopped nagging him about the books piling up on the coffee table.

Al-Haitham has long acknowledged his strange feelings for you, his childhood friend. He knows that the quickening beat of his heart was something more than simple jitters. The way you reached out to brush aside his hair left flickers of flames on his pale skin. Your smile that brightens up his day is the first thing he thinks of when he wakes up in the morning. And the lingering stare he has on his toothbrush makes him wonder what it would be like to have yours beside his.

But at last, it seemed as if you slipped through the cracks of his fingers. His inability to express to you his true feelings was left burning on the tip of his tongue. Even if he was a brutally straightforward man, he had his weaknesses. And one of those was you.

"Won't you come closer, let it take over."

Al-Haitham stares at you, frozen in his steps. You're at the same late that night of prom. This time at least, you had a few more layers of clothing to keep you warm from tonight's weather. In your hand was a small pebble that you twirled between your fingers. The tips of your nails glide against the rough surface before flicking your wrist, sending it flying a couple of steps.

It's been a while since he last saw you. You had moved away to a different college. He attended one further south, while you left for the north. You started a new life with a different job. Met a couple of new friends from Mondstadt. Your appearance was mainly the same, except for a few loose strands that fell to the sides of your cheeks.

You've seen each other a couple of times on your feeds. Al-Haitham has the habit of liking whatever you post. He hardly ever comments. If the day seemed right, he would drop a few lines asking about the book you're reading in the corner of the photo. But never something in an attempt to reconnect with you. He figured that you've grown too far out of his reach. And that perhaps it would be better if he allowed you to live your life without you.

It stung him for the majority of college. You and he called frequently in freshman year. However, it quickly diminished as the years went on. Your conversations diverged from asking him about his day to talking about your new coworkers and how you'll contact him when you get your new schedule. He tries to keep a smile on his face and nods to everything you say. He figures that his feelings for you might stay unrequited for a while. Maybe you knew from the start and didn't want to tell him, out of fear that you might embarrass him.

He’s unsure of what he should do at this moment. Should he reach out? Should he sit next to you? Could you still talk like the old days? He wrestles with the thoughts in his head, not noticing the way you turn your head to him, offering him the familiar kind-hearted smile he’s grown too fond of. He nervously sits beside you, his body still as a board while you chuckle.

He’s grown quite a bit since you last saw him in person. He was a little shorter when he was in high school. Now that you were older, he towered over you. He was always a quiet man, you knew this to be true. Despite being close friends for the majority of high school and a bit beyond, he never shared more than he had to. His face, while stoic, always implied that he was holding back something. His tongue was lodged further back than other people.

But that doesn’t matter now, does it? The two of you are older now. More mature than ever. The past mistakes you’ve created started to shape who you were today. And that person came back to him.

"I don't need anything, I just want you."

He remembers the feeling of your skin against him. When you pulled him by his fingers, guiding him through the open area of street markets. Older couples would stand outside their vendors, waving to people with the smell of freshly cooked food. Al-Haitham doesn’t say anything as you skipped around. The smile on his face says more than enough. Your eyes sparkled in excitement when you point to the mangos being sold in a cup. You had your signature bright smile, the one that would light up the entire world when it grows dark. It was the same familiar feeling he received whenever he turns on his childish nightlight.

He’s quiet when you notice an older stall, too busy being distracted by the warmth of your hand to make any rational decisions regarding your spending habits. You opened your wallet to pour out a couple of coins, handing it to the street vendor. In a matter of seconds, you hold up a few skewers towards Al-Haitham, gesturing for him to try the food. He drops a couple of snarky words towards you, but it was quickly silenced when you pushed the food against his lips. He lets out a sigh. He reaches out to hold your hand, the same one gripping the skewer, and settles by taking a bite.

You try to ignore the way your face grows a bit warmer when he chews slowly. His expression which had been neutral, morphed into enjoyment. He comments on the tenderness and how savory it was. You’ve always known that he liked meat but seeing him grow so close to you made you wonder what else you knew. He takes one more bite before pushing it back towards you, his eyes softening as he smiles. “You should try it as well,” he says, taking your other free hand and interlacing your fingers.

For some reason, you start to feel a bit nervous. You don’t say anything when he holds up the stick as you eat. The sparkle in your eyes continues to shine radiantly as you finish the rest of the food. A smile still spread across your face. Now, he’s the one pulling you to another vendor, pointing at a few items and ordering them for the two of you to try. He wants you to experience some of his favorites as well.

He doesn’t know how to describe this scene in words. Watching you enjoy a meal in front of him, your hands reaching out to feed him on the occasion sent waves of butterflies in his stomach. He questions if this was the start of something new for your relationship. Friends, close friends, distant friends, and back around to friends. Will you see something different in him if he continued to hint at his feelings? Could you feel his pulse whenever you hold his hand? Can you feel how quickly it beats for you?

He wants to express to you the words that have been lodged in his throat. The same ones that Kaveh wishes so desperately he could spill. Roommate or not, he says that this game of cat and mouse has gone on for too long. It was so blatantly obvious that he was still in love with you. So hopelessly, devoted to you, even when you’re so far out of reach sometimes.

He understands that he isn’t the first person people think of when it comes to romance. But he wants you to see him for who he was. Someone that could open up the world for you. Someone that would sail the seas just to embrace you underneath the moonlight. Someone who dreams of you every night, hoping that you might catch his lingering touches that sting like an ember.

He says something to you in another language. I like you, it translates. It causes you to perk up in interest as you lean your head against the palm of your hand. He blinks a few times before clearing his throat, rolling his eyes as you tease him about what he said. You poke and prodded at his cheek, pouting every time he gives you a dry answer. He would eventually shut you up by holding up a fork, shoving the rest of your food in your mouth.

He ignores your cries and moans, begging him to give you a translation of what he says. He only pushes your head away and squeezes your hand a little tighter. He hopes that you can’t see the way his pale skin reflects the red tint of apples.

“If there is a next time, meet me in Amsterdam”

He sucks in a deep breath when he pushes you down onto the sofa. Your eyes stare deep into his as your fingers glide across his skin. He tries not to whimper when you press against his rose-tinted lips. Your presence to him was addicting. It kept pulling him back and forth like an ocean wave. You’ve caught him in your net and he can’t find the power to break himself free.

Kaveh was out of the house today and the silver-haired man jumped at the opportunity to bring you over. It’s been months since you’ve first reconnected with him. Months spent so generously with the man before you. After spending a week in town, you decided to extend your say just a little bit longer. You wanted to explore this strange flame that had developed in your chest. And it would lead you here. Your back against the soft cushions as Al-Haitham pinned you down.

Oh, how he longed for this moment. For him to stare deep into your eyes with nothing more but fondness for you. For him to finally share how he feels without having to look over his shoulder. For him to finally tell you that he truly, wholeheartedly, loves you with everything he has. He wants to finally tell you that he’s been waiting since high school to hold your hand like this. Waiting throughout college to kiss you. Dreaming all this time to be yours.

He leans his forehead against yours, breathing in your scent as you smile. Was this the breaking of the dam? The flood that is your relationship, coming to crash against this wall? The tension that had been mimicking the push and pull of a rope was beginning to snap. And he could feel nothing except explosions at the pit of his stomach as he pressed his lips against yours. He holds onto you tightly, scared of losing you one more time.

But you stay. You bury your fingers in his hair, bringing him closer to you. He rested his weight against your stomach, fingers clutching onto your waist. Kocham Cię, he says when he breaks away from you. Air becomes short when he goes back to snatching your lips. Anh yêu em, he whispers against your skin. Seni seviyorum. He squeezes your waist. Eu te amo. He tilts his head just a little to capture you once more. Ya lyublyu tebya. He pulls away from you with heavy breaths.

He wants you to know how much he loves you. He wants you to see the number of times he’s held back on kissing you each time you smile. You were like the sun to him. So warm and out of reach at times, yet he desired you nonetheless. He waited years for this moment. And he wants nothing more than to indulge. If you would have him, he would give you everything. He would give you everything he is, and so much more.

Ich liebe dich, he kisses the side of your cheek. Wǒ ài nǐ, he kisses your forehead. Te quiero, he kisses your nose. You let out a few giggles as you attempt to push him away. Wrapping your legs around him, you keep him steady. His body is squished against yours. You begin to melt in his arms, his lips still kissing the surface of your skin. He looks into your eyes with those beautiful teal irises.

I love you, he finally says.

And you would reply with, I love you too.

#₊˚ ᗢ kirimoochi #genshin #genshin impact #genshin impact x reader #genshin x reader #genshin imagines #alhaitham #al haitham #alhaitham x reader #alhaitham x you #alhaitham x y/n #al haitham x reader

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girlfriendsofthegalaxy · 4 months ago

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tuesday again 9/17/2024

come take this very very friendly little man out of my bathroom! he is fiv+ and we are in houston tx! i am willing to drive a couple hours for the right home! he is a good boy he's just orange! more details here!

listening

emily jeffri's DENY off my spotify recommended weekly playlist: i can only describe it as "throbbing". immediately attention grabbing lyrics:

What kind of lover does your mother want? I'll do whatever, oh but you could not

very distinctly indie electronica. this would be the song in a cyberpunk/80s hacker movie where the chase takes you through an goth/alt fashion show where the models are actively giving blood as they walk or something.

i love the spotify daily mix for me and my bestie bc there's a guaranteed four bluey songs on it and it's a nice jumpscare. i know my mental health is taking a turn for the worse when a lot of mother mother starts popping up, i know my bestie's is taking a turn for the worse when a lot of girl in red starts popping up. suicide-watch-level sapphic angst singer-songwriter, generally. except for this song! extremely fun! didn't even recognize it as her! DOING IT AGAIN BABY is a more traditional selling-you-a-dodge-charger car commercial song and it's such a startling departure from her usual work that i wonder if it was a commercial commission? hard to immediately find out tho

I'm on a new level Something's got me feelin' like I could be inflammable And I might be I'm gonna light it up Nothing's gonna stop me if I say this is what I want

reading

i read twilight (yes that one) at the behest of my bestie and bc my mental health could not have gotten any worse in that moment. it has led to some uncomfortable realizations about my high school experience i will save for a therapist. i am mostly putting it here to remind myself that i read this book this year.

^ this is some silly goofy nonsense. not that i think people shouldn't be recognized at their retirement, but what happened to giving people nice watches instead of a thousand dollars in plaques

Saying that, the records did reveal something actually interesting: although the individual contract I sent a request related to was for a few thousand dollars, an attached blank purchase agreement (BPA) says that “the government estimates, but does not guarantee, that the volume of purchases through this BPA will be $360,000.00 over the term of the BPA.” So, a lot more than a few thousand bucks.

watching

Hang 'Em High (1968, dir. Post). certainly not clint's sluttiest role but really up there. i do wish he kept the fucked-out little rasp for the whole movie :(

youtube

When an innocent man barely survives a lynching, he returns as a lawman determined to bring the vigilantes to justice.

it has a typical bizarre shoehorned romance that (i think) deeply undercuts the theme it wants to explore, but there is no on-screen rape. the bar is on the FLOOR with westerns and yet i DNF so so so many.

hell of a whump film. literally everything happens to jed cooper. i will trumpet this again from the rooftops: that character needs cbt both ways.

playing

youtube

HIGHWATER, a 2022 adventure/turn based strategy thing from Rogue Games, courtesy of Netflix Games, whose game library is a fucking nightmare to navigate on mobile.

i loooove a water-based postapoc. the boat does in fact handle very poorly and like a horrible inflatable raft on mobile, which is both charming and frustrating.

i do not love a turn-based combat. despite the vibes off the charts, including a very well integrated "pirate radio" station as the game's soundtrack, i am not patient enough to muddle through complex turn-based combat. i'm sure someone had fun fighting off six guys and two bears (who aggro anyone and can one-hit anyone) and then a further three guys who show up for backup but i gave it the good old college try over two days and wasn't able to swing it. it would be nice to have either a difficulty setting or some way to spectate the ideal fight, but alas. a lot of fun environmental stuff in the fights you can use to your advantage, like the bears and these trees you can flatten your opponents with in a much earlier fight. there's a fun mix of different characters with different abilities and different weapons you pick up and keep during fights. i have no specific beef with this game's choice to make this the way you move through the game, it's just not my preferred genre.

a lot of book and newspaper collectibles in this one that i feel of several minds about. it feels less like environmental storytelling through newspapers and just the devs telling me their opinion when they provide little book summaries like this. also i wish The Industry as a whole was more thoughtful about using the word "insurgent".

not a game for me, i have once again confirmed that i cannot tolerate a turn-based combat no matter how much seafaring postapoc you drench it in :(

making

got a Phantom Menace era curtain panel for $4 at the thrift, and i was convinced it was fabric someone had made into a curtain panel until i got home and discovered it was an officially licensed product with bafflingly generous seams.

it's about two-ish yards of a 50/50 cotton/poly blend, which i feel like i haven't seen in a while? i think the current fashion leans more 70/30 or 100 poly for curtains i've purchased. after i finish unpicking the seams and pinking it, i am going to throw it in the wash again with some vinegar and see if that softens it up any, or if it makes the transition between the wear lines on the seams and the body of the fabric any nicer.

thinking about what kind of dress to make that 1) shows off this extremely large scale pattern 2) does not look like i am wearing a paper bag, and 3) does not look like the late aughts craft trend of sewing a twin flat Star Wars sheet to a tube top and calling that a dress, bc that's how hard up we were for feminine merch. much to consider. maybe it Will be a maxi skirt with pockets and i can wear one of my seventy black tees on top?

#tuesday again #tuesday again no problem #Youtube

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rowiewritesstuff · 2 years ago

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Hello! I saw you were taking requests and I was wondering if you could write a fic or a small prompt in T.F.P. where the human!reader is new to the team and is very outgoing and flirty but shy around her curhses and she becomes friends with her teammates as an agent herself? Maybe O.P. becomes smitten after a while with her? Hmmm? And everyone just notices and teases them about being a couple when they aren't, but they're both in denial and drunk shenanigans ensue with the reader being drunk and flirty towards him and teasing him? ^^ You can always add anything new of course! I got this idea when reading fluff and the song "Moves Like Jagger" kind of reminded me of the potential dynamic? Especially, the- "Take me by the tongue And I'll know you Kiss til you're drunk And I'll show you"

TFP Optimus Prime X Flirty! Reader

Mentions of Drinking Alcohol!

Hope this is okay lol

Fowler had brought you into the fold simply out of desperation- the poor man just wanted to take a vacation and all of the paperwork prevented him from doing so. He knew that while you weren’t always professional, you were the best damn agent they had.

When you were introduced to the bots, the first thing you said to Optimus was “What’s cookin’ good lookin’?” while winking.

Agent Fowler immediately face palmed.

You became quick friends with pretty much all of the bots. Arcee because of your war stories, Bulkhead because you always had time for his ‘stupid’ questions, Ratchet because of your aptitude for Cybertronian medicine, and Bumblebee because you were just generally friendly. Optimus was hard to make friends with at first because of his reserved personality, but you both discovered your shared love for reading.

You and Optimus often read books at the same time and talked about them- like a book club, but just for the two of you. For someone who takes almost nothing seriously, you are very intelligent. He sees why you are one of the best agents.

While they all became friends quickly, that didn’t mean they supported your flirting. You would often flirt to ease an awkward silence, or lighten the dark mood that so often sets on the base.

There was a great victory against the Decepticons- a mine was taken right from under their noses which led to a lot being added to their reserves. Some of the energon was of a higher concentration- to which you learned was called high grade.

Optimus noticed that the morale in the base was low, despite getting a great win against their foes. This led you to suggest a party. So a party he had. All of the kids were sent home early, and you drove with Bumblebee to pick up vodka and some mini-shot bottle shots.

Once you got back to the base, you all began the party. Somehow, you managed to get the normally serious Prime to have a drinking challenge with you. So there you were: chugging down straight vodka while Optimus chugged an energon cube. The other bots (with Ratchet being the loudest somehow) began cheering. You beat Optimus much to everyone’s surprise. They didn’t think a small thing like you could beat them in any drinking game.

Once the excitement of the drinking game calmed down, everyone but you and Optimus went to bed.

You both sat across from each other talking about your pasts. What you did before you came to be at the base and all that.

“You used to be an archivist? Like a librarian?” A grin pulled onto your face. "Can I get a reference number?” Optimus blinked a confused look. “So I can, y’know, check you out?” You slurred.

A loud bark of a laugh came from the Prime. “Damn, if being sexy was a crime, you’d never be a free person.”

You nearly spit up your vodka with laughter. “Didn’t know you could flirt, Op!"

An uncharacteristic smirk came across his face as he made his way over to you. He leaned down near your ear, and whispered “There’s a lot I can do.”

You couldn't help the huge blush that covered your face as you suddenly got shy. "Better cool it before I have to kiss you!" You tried to maintain your cool persona, but when he leaned in and grabbed your chin you just melted into a flustered mess.

In the morning, Ratchet had the worst hangover. He grumbled as he made his way into the medbay, only to freeze. There you and Optimus were. Optimus was laying up against the wall at an angle while you laid on his chest snoring away.

Ratchet couldn’t help the small smile that wormed onto his face as he left the room, shutting the lights off behind him.

#optimus x reader #fluff #alcohol #ratchet #autobot #tfp #tfp x reader #man y'all really want to kiss ratchet and op huh?#optimus prime #optimus prime X reader #drunken flirting #high-grade #high grade #maccaddam

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girlfailurefelix · 4 months ago

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what gave you the idea for borrowed time? did you have any other plans for it? (aka yap about it all you want)

so actually! i had been thinking about it conceptually for like two weeks before i wrote any of it (i was complaining to my sib about it cuz i was embarrassed to write since i hadn’t since i was a preteen/young teen lol) and it just drove me absolutely nuts cuz i couldn’t stop thinking about it at work.

just gonna establish now since it gets confusing: greg ≠ gregory. i treat them as two different characters in the same body. so i will not use them interchangeably on this ask, just like i don’t in my fic

cut because i am going to YAP

i wrote chapter one as an attempt to stop myself from thinking about it further (i was originally going to kill tony off and have it be a oneshot, either post-pizzaplex escape much like security breach’s bad ending c̶u̶z̶ ̶s̶o̶u̶l̶m̶a̶t̶i̶s̶m̶ or have him end up getting chased to the fire escape and yk, you can fill in the blank on that one. blah blah blah insert something here about tony’s very interesting, incredibly weird intro in the book. i’m still trying to figure that one out cuz other themes in the book [the celtic stuff specifically. this is a huge thing for me and i can go off about how it’s used in the book, but that’s for another post if yall want that] make that interesting if we didn’t know how ggy kills from the therapist tapes. actually, even though you can’t see it, this is how he dies in my cotard’s solution animatic. the knife in it wasn’t for killing him lol, his ass went off the roof [hence “i wanna make my murder look like a suicide”], but now i’m getting sidetracked). but one thing led to another and i wrote chapter 6 and the epilogue.

Chapter 4 was my last written chapter (hence why i don’t bother uploading individual chapters and just drop whole stories at once) if you don’t count editing several parts of chapter 1 (small tweaks for clarity purposes, not huge minus what i mentioned above. debated making this one two chapters but ended up keeping them together as a big one cuz it didn’t make as much sense when split up) and chapter 5 (i originally wrote the car ride to the pizzaplex cuz i thought it would be funny to make tony flip a tit and go hellaciously slow with the fear that he’d get pulled over cuz yk. twelve. but i figured it was too boring and discarded it).

the original title was actually a different song name. (super embarrassing but it was a hollywood undead song -another way out. i might use this later for a different, more fitting fic- cuz it helped me come up with a lot of the smaller details within chapter 1)

i did name it after the song from the death note musical cuz it can be interpreted about being about both tony and gregory. i meant it about gregory personally cuz at the end he quite literally is living on borrowed time (since tony’s death is the reason he’s able to get away from vanny. very remisa.), but tony is too throughout the entire fic, since obviously it’s an extension of his original implied lifespan (you’re welcome, you little shit.) and also cuz he’s putting up with (and being worn down by) greg’s shit the entire time in order to save gregory, even at the risk of his own safety, and i think that lines up really well too.

the chapters also all had individual names but too many were deathnote so i got embarrassed (og title of chapter 4 was the game begins lol, which is why the last sentence of chapter 3 was what it was)

color was SOOOO important. like the names i used were incredibly specific. i really wanted to emphasize how dead greg’s eyes are vs gregory, also how tony was losing steam cuz yk. traumatizing.

i based tony’s mom on mine lol. and she and my sib picked up on that immediately after they both read it (i didn’t have a beta cuz i didn’t take criticism or editing, but i did let them read it immediately) i know she doesn’t check on tony in the book when he sneaks out, but i figured that’s her giving him space, and i loveeeee projecting so that was reflected in the mom parts. mother’s instinct and all that. she totally knew greg was weird after the first night, he wasn’t just bullshitting on that part, but again, space (and yet another projection from a specific experience of my own).

greg. let’s fucking talk about greg. FIRST, he was gonna kill tony’s ass the whole time, despite chapter 4’s events. that was him being manipulative because i just don’t think greg *wouldn’t* notice tony’s behavior. as i wrote, he’s NOT subtle, even in actual canon. he meant what he said when he called him useful, and he certainly didn’t like feeling rejected, but don’t let him fool you, he doesn’t actually like tony. tony actually mentions this in chapter 2 as a possibility and much like his instincts in the actual book, he was right. it was just about dragging it out to make it worse on tony and getting something out of him as a bonus. i like to think of him as building on gregory’s original personality cuz virus, so he’s not that different, but he’s like,, worse if that makes sense. like the worst parts of gregory, amplified. with some killing, yk.

speaking of tony guessing, he was absolutely BULLSHITTING with the greg vs gregory shit. denial is not just a river, he just happened to be right. cuz seriously, he was two seconds from cracking anyway, i mean little dude is SO traumatized, especially at this point.

so gregory. he was able to communicate when half asleep cuz i think that greg/the actual virus would want him to experience the nightmares and such (agony continuing to feed the virus. yk. fnaf shit) to keep him in line. so this is the small window of opportunity he would have to even be a person, much less attempt to save himself. he’s miserable in this state though cuz tired and unable to be fully awake lol. also he can see everything greg does, hence knowing tony and trusting him, but he can’t really do anything about it. he’s always present though.

ellis wasn’t in this besides mentions because of multiple reasons. 1, i wanted to make it clear how much greg was isolating him. like that’s on purpose. 2, it would’ve gotten too convoluted to have tony protecting both of them in this specific case. and 3, i knew i wanted it to loop to security breach, so ellis would’ve interfered with that unless i killed him off. regardless of the fact that i personally see him dying in addition to tony as the canon post-ggy events [cuz let’s be real, regardless of if he believed it, he read tony’s paper. that’s a loose end and a disaster for greg waiting to happen. i don’t think he would risk it, especially since tony’s immediate disappearance would be sus as fuck.], i didn’t feel like killing him off needlessly.

so i actually sobbed after re-reading the end. giggled and kicked my feet about how awful it would be while writing it, but rest assured, it kicked my ass after. like to the point that i considered scrapping it and letting them get out safe (which is where the AU with Sunlight on Your Skin came in), but i knew this was the proper ending for both of them. greg ended up getting his way in the most fucked up way (tony was useful.) but also failing in the same breath, tony got to save gregory (giving him a far more satisfying character arc than his original, meaningless death. also fulfilling the void left by the guilt from not being able to help his dad’s fate), and gregory got saved, even if it was a hollow, tragic “victory” for him.

also i originally was going to have greg fatally wound tony as he won the game, but i wanted to bring in vanny (cuz of the “friends” comment from the beginning and it being brought up again by greg in one of the middle chapters) cuz A) i love my wife and B) it felt /too/ sad and angsty to the point of overkill (no pun intended)

oh. and gregory does actually like tony back, he wasn’t just saying it cuz wanting to escape and then him dying. just so we’re all aware. maybe not at that point as much as tony does (and not as much as he does in sunlight on your skin’s au continuation, cuz actually actively getting to be himself would help.), but it would’ve worked out if tony didn’t yk, kick the bucket. sorry if that makes his death worse.

#thank you for the ask!#anon #fe rambles #gregory #ggy #tony becker #writing #five nights at freddy’s

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