#Instant Décor

[jennystinson]

Add a dash of whimsical charm to your walls with this delightful pink abstract art! 🎨✨ Instantly transform your space with vibrant joy. 🌸💫

[fkartcreations]

[iamgonnagetyouback]

𝟷𝚔 || 𝐅𝐎𝐑𝐆𝐎𝐓𝐓𝐄𝐍 (PART 1)

♡ ︎ꜱᴜᴍᴍᴀʀʏ: After being the forgotten one your whole life, you thought that they wouldn't forget you.

♡ ︎ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢꜱ: Angst, Getting stood up

♡ ︎ꜱʜɪᴘ: poly!marauders x reader

♡ ꜱᴇʀɪᴇꜱ : part 1 | part 2 | part 3 | part 4

The small café was almost unbearably stuffy, the kind of warmth that clung to your skin like a bad memory. You sat at the tiny table, your fingers wrapped around the fifth, long-cold cup of coffee. Five empty cups already littered the space around you, their contents drained, and yet the boys were nowhere to be seen. The delicate pink and gold décor of Madam Puddifoot's—once sweet and charming—now felt suffocating.

You glanced up at the clock again.

They were an hour late.

Your heart sank lower into your stomach. An hour. The tiny voice in your head whispered cruel thoughts, thoughts you tried so hard to push away but they gnawed at you nonetheless. Did they stand me up?

You and the boys had only been dating for a few months—James, Sirius, Remus, Peter. It was unconventional, but you all cared about each other, or so you thought. The beginning had been a whirlwind of excitement and passion, stolen kisses in the corridors, late-night sneaking into the Gryffindor common room. But lately… lately, something had shifted.

You couldn’t shake the feeling that you were slipping through the cracks, that the bond they shared with each other was unbreakable and you were just some added accessory, an outsider trying to fit into a world that already had no space left for you.

A pang of doubt stung your chest. Maybe you had been stupid to believe that this could work. That they wanted you, truly wanted you. A bitter laugh escaped your lips as you stared down at the empty cups. Five cups. Five glasses, just like five people. You had been here. But where were they?

Each tick of the clock seemed to mock you. You had tried to convince yourself, at first, that they were just running late, that something had come up. They were the Marauders after all, always busy with some adventure or prank. But now? Now, you weren't so sure. The knot in your chest tightened, the air in the café becoming harder to breathe in. You were drowning in your thoughts, the same ones spiraling over and over.

Maybe I’m not important enough for them. Maybe they’ve realized they don’t need me. Just each other.

A tear slipped down your cheek before you could stop it. You quickly wiped it away, but the damage was done. Your heart was cracking with each passing second, each tick of the clock hammering the reality into you: they weren’t coming. They had forgotten you. Or worse, maybe they never even planned on showing up.

The idea that they had stood you up made your blood boil, but underneath the anger was the cold sting of hurt. They were supposed to be yours. How could they do this? How could they leave you waiting here, like some fool, while they—?

You couldn’t stay here any longer. The sight of the café and the sound of the clinking china cups was making you nauseous. You grabbed your things, hands shaking, and bolted out of the door, the chilly evening air hitting your tear-streaked face. The wind stung, but not as much as the empty feeling gnawing at your chest.

Your feet carried you without thinking. You needed to get away, to find solace, to bury yourself in someone who cared. And there was only one place to go.

Lily and Mary’s dorm.

When you burst into the room, Lily and Mary were tangled up together on the bed, kissing softly, not noticing your entrance at first. The door creaked behind you, and suddenly, they pulled apart, eyes wide and worried as they saw your tear-stained face.

“Oh my God, what happened?!” Lily was up in an instant, rushing over to you, her hands gripping your shoulders gently as she took in the sight of you, broken and shaking.

You opened your mouth to speak, but the words wouldn’t come out. Instead, a sob escaped, one that ripped through you, and you crumpled into her arms. Mary had joined the two of you by now, her eyes filled with concern.

“Sweetheart, what is it? What happened?” Mary’s voice was gentle, but the panic was clear.

You choked back another sob, wiping furiously at the tears streaming down your cheeks. “I hate them,” you finally spat, the bitterness in your voice taking even you by surprise. “I hate them so much.”

Lily’s brow furrowed in confusion. “The boys? What did they do?”

“They didn’t show up,” you hissed, the words tumbling out like venom. “They were supposed to meet me at Madam Puddifoot's… an hour ago. And they didn’t come. Not even a bloody owl. Nothing.”

Lily’s face hardened, and Mary’s mouth opened in shock.

“They… they stood you up?” Mary asked, her voice soft, as if she couldn’t believe it.

You nodded, your throat tightening as the tears threatened to fall again. “I waited, and I waited, and they never came. I… I thought they cared, you know? But maybe I’m just—maybe I’m just not important enough for them.” The last part came out in a broken whisper.

Lily pulled you closer, her arms wrapping around you tightly. “No. No, don’t you dare think that. They’re idiots, all of them. Complete and utter prats.”

“But I’m always the last thought, Lily,” you sobbed, the hurt spilling out. “They’ve been so distant lately. Like… like I’m not even part of the group anymore. Like they’re fine with just each other and I’m… I’m just in the way.”

Mary knelt beside you, her hand rubbing soothing circles on your back. “You deserve better than this. So much better.”

“I thought they were different,” you said bitterly, “I didn’t expect this from them. Not from them. But… I guess I was wrong.”

The room was quiet for a moment, only the sound of your broken breaths filling the space. Lily and Mary exchanged a look, one that told you they were just as furious as they were heartbroken for you.

You had come to them with your broken heart, and now, you didn’t know what to do with the pieces. All you knew was that in this moment, you wanted nothing to do with the Marauders. You wanted to scream, cry, and hate them with everything you had.

And maybe—just maybe—you could learn how to forget them too.

[inkonparchment]

Class of '95

Leon Kennedy x f!Reader

The tie rests in his pocket, feeling his throat constrict enough by the memories from a lifetime ago as Leon stands in his old high-school gymnasium. His breathing exercises carry him through the evening until his breath knocks out of him when he sees you again.

warnings/tags: older Leon. allusions to alcoholism. fluff. high school sweethearts.

word count: 3.5k

a/n: i dont know if anyone has seen '10 Years' but this heavily inspired from that especially the song 'Never Had'. that and 'From Eden by Hozier'. also i know thats infinite darkness Leon in the banner but i had more death island Leon in mind. anyways, happy reading! this may be lame but its all i have to offer

Leon is glad he decided to forgo the tie, a last-minute decision he made sitting in the shadows of his car, staring blankly at his reflection in the rear-view mirror. The silence had been too loud without the car in ignition, occupied by a sudden itch to grip the steering wheel and drive off, daunted too much by the expanse of his old high-school. He feels like a fraud returning, no longer finding any specks of the person who used to wander down the halls, sit in the classes and occupy the benches in the cafeteria, his carefree demeanour carrying him through the days. 

He could hear the muted drawl of music bleeding from the doors, the balloons and décor scattered across the entrance with a banner reading ‘Welcome Back Class of ‘95’ in greeting. God, that made him feel old, the constant ache in his back a constant reminder of the toll the years had taken on him. 

The walk in isn’t so terrible, wiping the sweat from his hand as he comes across the registration desk, a kindly looking face asking for his name. He nearly laughs at the ‘hello my name is’ sticker, the marker squeaking as he scribbles on his name and pastes it on his jacket right above his heart. 

Leon feels his fingers twitch when someone shouts his name in disbelief, turning around to blink in the face of two men who were previously occupied with their own conversation. He recognizes them in an instant, his teammates from the football team. Youthful faces drowned by wrinkles, grey sprinklings in their hair and torsos full of muscle now replaced with a softening belly; but their smiles are still the same. He walks over to them, gripping their hands firmly in handshakes, disbelief on their faces when they register that it is Leon. 

Where have you been, man? We thought you were dead! Wow, it’s been so long. 

It’s all the same set of questions and remarks he gets when he tours the gymnasium floor. Yes, he can’t believe it’s been so long. No, he’s just been busy with work so no time for a missus or kids. Ah, what about work? He doesn’t want to bore anyone with the boring mumbo jumbo. Yeah, he’s disappointed the police thing didn’t work out but what can you do? 

His words soon start to feel rehearsed, like an actor on scene waiting for his cue, a smile plastered on his face to dazzle the audience. Leon does a fine job of it, relaxing when he realizes that it’s easy with these people who are more eager to talk about their wives, husbands and kids. He feels envy grow within him as his eyes get stuck on their greying features, the softness of their added age and the glittering bands of their rings. 

It feels disorienting almost seeing his classmates living the life he had pictured for himself long ago, a life he didn’t realize he wanted so much now. Maybe there was something about coming stunningly close to death as of late, not that it wasn’t usual for him. Perhaps the one too many knocks against his head had finally straightened out his disarrayed thoughts into linearity.  

The praises that are aimed his way are quickly dismissed by Leon, shrugging all the ‘you look really fit’s and ‘your hair is in great condition, between the kids and job I don’t have the time to dye it’ like bullets clattering to the ground, puncturing him in the aftermath. He has nothing to show for his life save for the scar marks and the unhealed bullet wounds littering his body. Their voices would not carry a tone of wistfulness if they truly knew his reality. 

Leon needs a breather. And like a dog to a bone, he retreats to the bar in the corner. 

It’s mostly empty, smiling politely at the couple that walks away with their beverages. He leans against the bar, grateful for the coolness underneath his palm as he orders his drink. Whiskey on the rocks with a twist. 

Leon struggled with the concept of autonomy for the majority of his 20s and 30s, anger rippling through his system with his teeth grit whenever he would be dispatched at a moment's notice. Every reverberation of his trusty Matilda was doused in casual rage of the irony of his helplessness in deciding his fate as he ensured the normalcy of those back home. Mission success after success that Leon paid for with his freedom, his aching body and greying years, mourning the naive version of himself that saw the world with a gleaming lense. 

He accepted his fate soon enough, made peace with the life he knew he was too much of a coward to leave, courtesy of his survivor's guilt or hero complex, he doesn't know. He really doesn't want to find out. Perhaps it’s the shift in his reality, a peek into a life outside where he isn’t vital to the national or global security. It tugs at the strings of his heart when he realises there’s serenity here. This thought does little to alleviate the deep ache within his chest as he watches his old classmates. 

This is difficult for the reasons Leon never prepared himself for, bitterness flooding him as he mulls over the possibility of the life he could have had. Would he be like everyone else here? Would smiling come easy, a wedding ring on his finger and pictures of his kids ready on his phone, proudly brandishing it out on a moment’s notice? What does he have to show for himself apart from the scars and wounds that litter his body? 

The bartender slides Leon’s drink in front of him, parting with a polite smile. He stares at the amber liquid, ice floating on its surface and the itch in the back of his head that he had tried hard to bury returned. Leon grabs the glass, swirling it for good measure and brings it up to his lips. The whiskey barely grazes his lips when a familiar sounding laugh freezes him in place. His pulse flutters, a statue in poise, back turned to the crowd when the sweet noise filters through again to his ear. 

And suddenly Leon feels himself thrown back to the year 1995 on his own personal time machine, bubbling up memories that he had long forgotten, evoking emotions he thought he didn’t know how to feel anymore. The laugh is light and airy, so gentle and delicate, encompassing his entire being, intoxicating him once again like it did when he heard it for the first time during chemistry class. 

He remembers the softness of your skin when you two had accidentally bumped hands reaching for the popcorn, blushing bright in the darkened theatre before he gathered the courage to hold your hand firmly, never letting go again. 

Leon swears he can taste the butter on your lips when you had bravely kissed him on the doorstep of your home, a grin permanently latching onto his face. His ears ring with the sound of your cheers from the stands, louder than anyone, wildly waving your homemade posters for his games, always present come rain or hail.   

Leon is almost afraid to turn, not wanting to disturb the way his mind has painted you in beautiful strokes, conjuring up a picture so vivid that he feels he can touch if he reaches out. But curiosity gets the better of him, lowering the untouched drink down with a thunk and slowly turning around. Leon forgets how to breathe for a moment. Is it in, in? Out in? No, it’s in and out. He tries to catch up to missed breaths, eyes hung onto you. 

You look just as beautiful as the day he last remembers seeing you. It overwhelms him. Time clearly passed you by but not in the same way it had him; brutish, barbaric and aggressively tossing him on the hard concrete. No, time had been gentle with you, tenderly caressing you in its palm, nuzzling you softly as it swept you with it. 

Your smile is still the same Leon fell in love with, proud at having being the receiving end of it quite often, adoring the way you still throw your head back a little when you laugh. There is an air of elegance about you, evidence of the years that you had culminated, experiences under your belt that had transformed you into the person that was standing just a little distance away from him.    

Leon watches you intently as your eyes flicker over to where he’s standing, words fumbling from your lips as you jerk your head back up and do a double take. Your eyes blink furiously, widening in surprise as though you never expected to see him in a million years. You stumble off an excuse to the people you were talking to, eyes not daring to stray away from him. 

His drink is long forgotten, hands both nestled in his pockets, heart thrumming in his chest as he waits for you to make your way to him. There’s a certain peculiarity in how you do; a strange mix of shyness and disbelief. Your steps are light and airy, features softening as Leon grows more vivid in your line of sight. There’s something familiar in the way you walk to him, something akin to how he watched you descend the stairs of your house as he had waited at the bottom, staring at you in awe with a corsage gripped tight in his hands. Even in the picture your mom had snapped, Leon was still looking at you.  

Warmth floods him when you come to a stop in front of him, glee on both his and Leon’s face, hidden beneath timidness. He takes the first leap.  

“Hey,” Leon smiles. 

You laugh and it is oh so sweet, stronger than a shot of espresso. “Hi.” You tuck a strand of hair behind your ear.  

What do you say anyways to the most important person in your youth who you thought would be a constant? The breakup had been difficult but inevitable with the two very different paths you and Leon had picked out for yourselves. It was terribly heart aching with fingers gripping each other’s tightly, silent tears running down your face as you tried to inscribe every forehead kiss from Leon to memory with the sun setting in the far-off distance. Come morning he would be long gone, both of you deciding that it would be unbearable to start a new day without the sun shining on them both.  

What do you say after all these years have passed shaping you into different versions of the same person you once knew so long ago?  

“It’s really good to see you Leon.” Well you could say that for starters. 

A small puff of air leaves Leon’s throat, glancing down at the floor momentarily before looking back into your eager eyes. His heart clenches as he notices they still glow. “It’s good to see you too.” An understatement truly, it’s magical to see you again. He thought he never would again, his mind drifting to you in his moments of darkness, clinging on to the memories as they would rejuvenate him. His sentiment is a lot more loaded than yours, he realises, his guardian angel now materialised in front of his eyes.  

You flit about, mess with your hair, pull it behind your ears, trying to look at him whole with little glances. “I uh...I thought you didn’t attend these things.”  

“I didn’t know there were these things to attend,” He shrugged. Its true, it’s quite hard to reach him when none of his old contact numbers or emails work. Leon’s a hard man to reach. It was a surprise to him when Hunnigan had all but slammed the plane ticket and the print out of his old high-school reunion on his desk. He didn’t even bother asking how she got the information, feeling scrutinised under her hard gaze and her You need a break too, Leon. He’ll buy her favourite bottle of wine first thing back.  

“Well you know it is hard to reach you.” You tilt your head to the side, teasing glinting in your eyes. “No phone number, no address, no email either. Its almost like you vanished off the face of the earth.” 

Leon feels the tips of his ears grow hot, suddenly feeling a bit ashamed. You continue on with a casual shrug of your shoulders, “Every text or email I sent you bounced back so I just thought you didn’t want to catch up.”  

That turns him into a statue. What? “You tried to contact me?”  

A streak of blush colours your cheeks. “I mean not that frequently. Just like a couple of years back I guess? I don’t know I just did it on a whim. The text didn’t go through and neither did the email so...you know I thought you didn’t want to be contacted.” 

He didn’t know what to do with the information that you thought of him while he thought of you. He never imagined that you would actually try to reach out to him, why would you? Leon assumed you’d be well settled in your life now; husband, kids, the white picket fence. Isn’t that what the two of you would fantasise about, sharing whispered giggles huddled under the sheets?  

But there’s curiosity gnawing at his bones. He’s noticed the empty ring finger on your left hand about how you’ve spent ten minutes chatting with him here and no man has slipped his hand against your waist. You’re here, talking to him, in no rush to meet anyone else. Leon feels his fingers twitch, he would never let you out of his sight. 

He blinks, an easy smile settling on his lips, gazing at you softly at your confession. “I thought about you a lot too.” He wants to thread his fingers through your hair, tucking away the strands. “I’m sorry I went so far away.”  

You shudder, pursing your lips and looking away. You see to be shrugging your shoulders again. Cute. “It’s fine. Life gets in the way sometimes. I’m just glad you’re okay.” 

The music doesn’t bother Leon anymore. He likes it, foot tapping with the beat, letting the soft tune wash over him. The silence is nice albeit heavy, he imagines there’s a barrage of questions on the tip of your tongue. A gentle giggle pulls his attention to you, “What?” 

“Nothing. Its just,” You shake your head, “I don’t know if I should be concerned or not over how little the gymnasium has changed since we went here.”  

“Oh,” His eyes sweep the entire place, amused at your remark. “You’re right. I don’t imagine they’ve been very enthusiastic about interior decoration .”  

“They really have not,” You marvel. You seem to get lost in your thoughts, pulling your back straighter. “You think they changed the bleachers outside in the field?”  

Leon locks eyes with you, unrelenting stare as he grapples with the meaning behind your words. He spent a lot of time with you on them; shyly running to you after practice, talking with you there for hours, glancing at you cheering him on during games, the summer day you two had spent there laughing and kissing before Leon had scratched the two of yours initial on its surface, sweetly outlining it with a heart. It’s not cheesy sweetheart if you’re blushing into my neck this hard.  

Leon quirks his eyebrow, matching your smile. ���Let’s find out.”  

The night is cool with clear skies and a soft breeze blowing through. Leon feels ridiculous, not in the stupid sense but in the makes-him-feel-young sense. Your hand is wrapped in his instinctively, your soft palm resting against his with a practiced ease as he tugs you along with him towards the football field. The music thrums away into the background until there’s only the sound of your shared footsteps and your soft laughs echoing in the air. He can’t help but glance at you time and again, marvelling at the soft wrinkles dusting the corner of your eyes.  

He doesn’t like it when he has to let your hand go, standing between the stands as the two of you  unspokenly begin the search for the same heart shaped mark left years ago in the dim light. 

“So uh,” You say standing a little above from him in the bleachers, attention focused on the seats as you try to sound casual, “Did you come alone?”  

“Yeah,” He’s quick to reply. “My pet goldfish gets really motion sick on planes.” He pretends to search for a while. “You?”  

You hum in reply. “I don’t think ex-husbands are too big on attending their ex-wife’s high-school reunion.”  

Leon turns towards you to see you staring at him already, fiddling with your ring-less finger. “Dead?” 

“Divorced.” 

“When?” 

“Few years ago.”  

“Why?” 

“He got his secretary pregnant.”  

Leon blinks, scoffing and surprised at the spark of anger that ignites in him. “What an absolute piece of shit.”  

You laugh. “Yeah.”  

The two of you go back to searching, a lightness on your shoulders now. He relaxes too, the stiffness disappearing from his back. “I thought a lot about you. Thought you’d have your white picket fence house by now. It’s...why I never reached out to you.”  

You bite your lip, smiling at the memory. “It’s okay Leon, really. The white picket fence seems like a lifetime ago now. Seems a bit silly honestly.”  

“It’s not what you want?”  

“I don’t know. A lot’s changed since we last spoke. I’ve learnt it’s better to let things happen as they are.”  

“Not taking chances anymore?”  

You look up at him, a sweet smile as you share a knowing look. “No, I’m taking them as they present themselves.”  

Leon’s stomach does that flipping motion again, sweat collecting on the back of his neck. He mentally notes to buy Hunnigan the snack she likes so much too. They resume their search, beckoning the other to their spot as they find something funny or worthy to see. It’s fun, his worries melting away as he laughs away the night with you. But that heart is nowhere to be found, tired of squinting.  

“Ugh, this low lighting isn’t really helping,” You sigh, trailing back to where he’s stood.  

“Maybe some extra help then.” He pats the front of his jacket, digging into his inner pocket and then brandishing out his flip phone nonchalantly. You stare at it for a second, watch him as he flips it open and then burst into laughter.  

“What?” He asks in disbelief, watching you wheeze with amusement. 

“Wow,” You manage to choke out, “Well no wonder its so hard to reach you. Does your phone even have an email app?”  

“It works fine for me,” He grumbles, hoping you can’t see how scarlet he is under the night sky.  

“No, no,” You grin at him, pinching his cheeks. “It’s cute.”  

Leon almost jumps at your fingers connecting with his cheek, inadvertently leaning into your touch. You still, realisation hitting you of what you’re doing. But you don’t stop. Your fingers splay out, hesitantly cupping the side of his face. Leon watches you carefully, trying his best to control his breathing. You shudder as the bottom of your hand grazes against his stubble, thumb slowly caressing against his skin. Leon shuts his eyes under your soft touch, a sigh leaving his lips. 

He holds your wrist, keeping your hand against his cheek, bringing you close to him by your waist. His eyes don’t stray from yours, keeping you in place. Your eyes glaze over, a sheen in them as they collect water.  

“Hi.” You whisper.  

“Hey, sweetheart.” He whispers back. 

“You look old,” You laugh, the sound mixing with a sob. 

“So do you.” He hums back, fondly brushing your hair back from your face.  

You bury your face in his chest, breathing him in. “Where were you? I waited for you for so long.”  

He pulls back to see you properly, tilting  your face up by a hand under your chin. He leans in, lips brushing over yours. You push yourself up on your toes, lips connecting with his. You feel so impossibly warm against him, lips slotting against his seamlessly. He breathes you in, tastes you deeply, gripping you against his body like he never plans on letting you go. You gasp against his lips as he steals your breath and noises.  

He pulls away just an inch, nuzzling his nose into your cheek, not daring to loosen his hold on you. “Not going anywhere now, sweetheart.” 

[asidian]

Set breakdown time! Next up: Niko's room.

As before, I've circled the points of interest and numbered them to make them easier to talk about. Cool? Cool. Let's do this!

1: Niko's mom's name! This part is her and Niko's surname. The kanji are 佐々木.

佐 – sa, meaning help or aid

々 – an iteration mark. When you see this, basically it means "exactly what the last one said, one more time." So another sa meaning help or aid

木 – ki, meaning tree

It's really neat that they picked a last name for her that doubles down on her role in the narrative. Just like Niko is there to support and help other characters in whatever way they seem to need, her surname hammers it home by including 佐 not once but twice.

2: Riza (リザ) Niko's mother's given name. Somewhat odd here is that it's written in katakana and not kanji. Without getting sidetracked too much (you can pop over here to read more if you're interested) most Japanese people write their names in kanji.

Katakana seems like a bit of a strange choice here, unless a) Niko for some reason doesn't know the kanji for her own mother's name (weird, given that she's in high school) b) her mother is a foreigner (a possibility; foreigners usually write their names in katakana) c) the set designer/whoever prepped the letters didn't know the appropriate kanji for "Riza" (seems unlikely, given how accurate all the rest of this is) or d) some sort of personal habit. An interesting side note is that her letter to Niko also puts Niko's name in katakana.

3: Cutesy stationery, used for marking your place in a document or book

4: A cute blue purse!

5: Watermelon! Judging by the shiny material and placement near the other bag, I'm going to guess this is another purse

6: Niko's clothes :>

7: Pink luggage

8: Lots of instant noodles

9: A rice cooker

10: Rice vinegar

11: This girl LOVES her some plants

12: Probably food items…? The one on the right looks like it might be a five-pound bag of rice, but I don't recognize the brand

13: Lots of unwashed dishes

14: A toaster oven

15: Chopsticks

16: A cute octopus pillow. I think I saw someone mention that it's from Ikea :>

17: She often leaves dirty dishes sitting on the bedside table

18: A painting of what seems to be a skyscape

19: Brightly colored pillows

20: Metal art in the shape of a moon

21: A decorative window hanging

22: More plants :)

23: Candles

24: Her tv

25: Cute pens with pompoms on the end

26: Regular tape

27: A cute cat statue

28: Marble Pop Ramune, strawberry flavor. Ramune is a type of soda that's a popular festival drink in Japan. It's sealed with a  glass marble and you have to pop the marble down into the little catch basin before you can drink it.

29: Anime wall décor

30: Fruit jelly cups. In Japan, small gelatin based snacks like this are popular. They're tiny, about an inch tall, and you eat them in just one or two bites.

31: Niko's laptop. She has stickers on it

32: Washi tape! It's decorative Japanese tape, often with bright colors and patterns, used for crafting.

33: A lot of cute magnets, including the bunny one, which serves double-duty as a kitchen timer

34: Niko's grocery list. The only thing on here that's here because she wants it is strawberry ice cream. The rest of the items, licorice tea, manuka honey, and Epsom salts, are all natural remedies. She's been trouble-shooting how to get rid of the effects of the sprites. She knows she's sick, but not why

35: Cutesy craft supplies! Sequins, glitter, and pompoms

36: More washi tape!

37: Niko's manga collection. She is that particular brand of organizational mess that does not put her numbered volumes in order. She has made an exception for the series that makes a complete picture when you line them up, though

38: More plants :)

39: Manga posters! Issho is one of the series that she has on her shelf

40: A decorative jar

41: Little metal bird sculptures

42: What seems to be the only framed picture in her room. The angle is wrong to see what the photo is, but it's interesting that they added just one in here. Maybe it's her family…?

[zapreportsblog]

Could I request a. Poly volturi/ f reader where Marcus finds out she’s is their mate. She met them on one of the tourist guide and he found her told aro and caius that she is their mate. They talk to her and she’s shy . She sorta want to be with them but her only experience of a relationship was really abusive in the past which made her insecure and feeling unworthy of love . She runs away from them. Eventually the found out why she ran and her confession leaves them 🥺

My love I will need the name of who hurt you.

Cree volturi kings : we just want to talk with him …

Wow this is sad asf, I like this

↱ your ours ↰

➘ summary : what started out as a simple tour turnt into something more

The grand halls of the Volturi castle echoed with the hushed voices of tourists, their footsteps reverberating against the ancient stone floors. Among them was (y/n), a young woman who had always been fascinated by history and the mysteries of the castle. She had embarked on this tour with a keen sense of excitement, eager to explore the secrets that lay within the castle's walls.

As the tour guide spoke animatedly about the history of the paintings on the wall, (y/n) found herself hanging on to every word. She craned her neck to catch glimpses of the intricate tapestries that adorned the walls and the opulent décor that spoke of centuries of power and influence. The stories of the powerful kings and wars that rained over their world centuries ago had captured her imagination, filling her mind with visions of intrigue and romance and death.

Amid the crowd, a figure caught her attention – a man who exuded an air of timeless elegance and authority. His dark hair cascaded down his back, and his crimson eyes seemed to hold secrets that spanned centuries. It was Marcus, one of the three Volturi kings, passing by with a measured grace that demanded respect.

(y/n)'s heart raced inexplicably as their eyes met for a brief moment. It was as if an invisible thread connected them, a bond that defied explanation. She felt a pull towards him, an inexplicable curiosity that left her breathless. And in that fleeting instant, she could swear she saw a glimmer of intrigue in Marcus's eyes – a recognition that mirrored her own.

Interrupting the tour guide's narration, Marcus raised his hand, his voice carrying through the hall with a quiet authority. "Hold, please."

The tour guide faltered, clearly taken aback by the interruption. Marcus's gaze remained fixed on (y/n), his lips curving into a slight smile that held an air of mystery.

"Forgive me, but there is something quite intriguing about this young woman here." Marcus's voice was smooth, his words enigmatic as he addressed the bewildered tour guide. "I would like to extend an invitation to her – if she would be interested – to explore a different part of the castle with me."

The hushed murmurs of the tourists filled the air as (y/n) felt a mix of shock and bewilderment. She had not anticipated this turn of events, and yet, an inexplicable sense of destiny tingled in her veins.

The tour guide stammered for a moment before nodding, a mixture of awe and apprehension in their eyes. "Of course, sir. If the young lady is willing, I can continue the tour with the others."

Marcus stepped closer to (y/n), his gaze unwavering. "What say you, my dear? Would you be interested in exploring a different facet of this castles history?"

Her heart pounded as a swirl of emotions coursed through her. The enchanting allure of Marcus, the mystery that seemed to shroud him – it was a chance she couldn't pass up. Gathering her courage, she nodded, her voice steady despite the flutter in her chest. "I would be honored."

With a graceful nod, Marcus turned away from the tour group and gestured for (y/n) to follow. She did so, her heart racing with a mix of excitement and trepidation. As they walked, the grand halls seemed to come alive with an energy that was both electrifying and surreal.

They reached a massive wooden door adorned with intricate carvings, and Marcus opened it with a flourish. "Welcome to our library."

The sight that greeted (y/n) took her breath away. Shelves upon shelves of ancient tomes and manuscripts stretched into the distance, illuminated by the soft glow of candles. It was a sanctuary of knowledge, a repository of secrets that spanned centuries.

Marcus watched her reaction with a faint smile. "I thought this might pique your interest."

As (y/n) stepped further into the library, her heart swelled with a sense of wonder. She felt a connection – not just to the history contained within these walls, but to the enigmatic king - not that she knew who or what he was, who had opened this door for her.

As (y/n) continued to explore the library, each step seemed to take her deeper into a realm of enchantment and mystery. The scent of aged parchment mingled with the warm glow of candlelight, creating an atmosphere that felt almost otherworldly.

Unbeknownst to her, word had been swiftly passed down the ranks by Marcus, who had sensed the unique connection she shared with him. Intrigued by her presence, Aro and Caius had decided to pay them an unexpected visit. Their arrival was as silent as shadows, and (y/n) only became aware of their presence when she heard the faintest rustling of fabric.

She turned, her eyes widening as she saw the imposing figures of Aro and Caius standing before her. Aro's eyes glittered with curiosity, and Caius's expression held a blend of scrutiny and aloofness.

Marcus stepped forward with a graceful nod, introducing (y/n) to the other two kings. "May I present Aro and Caius, two friends of mine.”

(y/n) dipped into a respectful curtsy, her heart racing as she met the gaze of these legendary figures. "Pleased to meet you.”

Aro's smile was almost hypnotic, his crimson eyes dancing with a mix of amusement and intrigue. "Greetings, my dear. I can’t help but see you’ve been glancing at a book about the history of vampires, tell me, do you believe in vampires?"

The question hung in the air, laden with both a challenge and a promise. (y/n)'s mind raced, grappling with the incredible situation she found herself in. Her logical nature clashed with the fantastical notion of vampires, yet standing before the embodiment of that very myth, she couldn't help but wonder.

"I believe in the unexplainable," she began, her voice steady and thoughtful. "There are countless mysteries in the world, phenomena that defy scientific explanation. So, while my rational mind might question the existence of vampires, my curiosity tells me that there are realms beyond our understanding."

Aro's grin widened, his interest clearly piqued. "Ah, a mind open to possibilities. That is a delightful trait."

Caius's silence spoke volumes, his eyes never leaving (y/n) as he observed her with an intensity that sent shivers down her spine.

Marcus stepped closer, his presence reassuring as he addressed Aro and Caius. "Our guest is a thinker, one who embraces the complexity of reality. Her perspective is as refreshing as a cool breeze on a warm night."

The conversation flowed on, weaving through the tapestry of history, myth, and human nature. (y/n) found herself engaged in an intellectual dance with the kings of legend, her thoughts and insights laid bare before them. With every exchange, the lines between the fantastical and the tangible blurred further, leaving her with a sense that reality was far more nuanced than she had ever imagined.

As the night rolled on, the library became a haven for shared ideas, an unexpected meeting of minds that transcended the supernatural. In the presence of Aro, Caius, and Marcus, (y/n) discovered that even the most extraordinary tales could be grounded in the richness of human thought. And in that moment, her beliefs were stretched beyond their limits, opening her heart to the infinite possibilities that lay beyond the realm of the ordinary.

‘So this is our mate hmm,’ thought aro and caius.

The conversation flowed like a river of ideas, weaving together the threads of history, myth, and the human experience. As the night deepened, Aro, Caius, and Marcus shared stories of their long lives, tales that seemed both fantastical and strangely plausible in the context of their surroundings.

(y/n)'s mind raced as she navigated this surreal interaction. Her thoughts were a whirlwind of curiosity, apprehension, and a growing sense of connection. She marveled at the way Aro's eyes sparkled with the excitement of discovery and the way Caius's stern expression softened whenever a topic stirred his interest.

Finally, as the clock ticked towards the early hours of morning, Aro leaned back in his chair, his gaze fixated on (y/n). "My dear, your insights have been nothing short of remarkable. Your presence has brought a fresh perspective to our discussions."

Caius, usually reserved, nodded in agreement, his voice carrying a rare hint of admiration. "Indeed. Your willingness to engage with our history and your open-mindedness are qualities we find intriguing."

Marcus's gentle smile added to the atmosphere, his eyes softening as they met (y/n)'s. "We have an offer, if you would consider it. We would be honored if you chose to stay here for a time, to learn more about our castle, its history, and the stories that have shaped our world."

The weight of their words settled upon (y/n) like a spell, and for a moment, her heart seemed to pause. To stay within the very heart of the Volturi castle, to immerse herself in the history she had always yearned to uncover – it was a dream she had never dared to entertain.

Flustered, she struggled to find her words. "I... I'm incredibly humbled by your offer. This is all so unexpected, and yet... it's an opportunity that I can't help but feel drawn to."

Aro's smile widened, his eyes shining with a mix of satisfaction and delight. "We would be delighted to have you, my dear."

Caius's nod was a rare sign of approval, his gaze lingering on (y/n) for a moment longer before he turned his attention to Marcus.

Marcus stepped forward, his presence both reassuring and inviting. "Consider this your sanctuary, a place where knowledge and curiosity intertwine. You'll have access to our library and the stories it holds."

Overwhelmed by a mixture of excitement and apprehension, (y/n) offered a genuine smile. "Thank you, all of you, for this incredible opportunity. I'll gladly accept."

Aro's chuckle was a melody of amusement, his fingers tenting beneath his chin as he regarded her. "Excellent. We shall arrange everything for your stay, my dear. Welcome to our castle."

As the kings made their exit, leaving (y/n) alone in the library, she could hardly believe the turn her life had taken. The castle, with its centuries of history and the enigmatic Volturi kings, was now her new reality.

Weeks turned into months, and (y/n)'s life within the Volturi castle was a whirlwind of discovery and intrigue. The stories she had yearned to uncover became her reality, and the library became her haven. Yet, as time passed, she began to notice subtle oddities – fleeting movements, eyes that glinted in the moonlight, and moments of uncanny insight.

Her curiosity piqued, (y/n) embarked on her own investigation, her explorations leading her to the kings themselves. One evening, she found herself in a dimly lit corridor, face-to-face with Aro, who had seemingly appeared out of thin air.

"(y/n)," Aro's voice was smooth, his eyes studying her with an intensity that sent shivers down her spine.

She took a deep breath, her heart pounding. "Aro, there's something I've been meaning to ask you. Something... unusual."

Aro's smile held a hint of mystery. "And what might that be, my dear?"

"I've noticed... peculiar things," she began carefully, her gaze unwavering. "Things that don't quite fit within the realm of normalcy. I've seen movements that defy human capabilities and glimpses of knowledge that seem impossible to possess."

Aro's expression remained enigmatic, but his smile grew. "Observant, as always. (y/n), you are correct. There are aspects of our nature that are beyond the ordinary."

Her heart raced as realization dawned. "You mean... you're vampires."

Caius appeared beside Aro, his presence as imposing as ever. "Sharp instincts."

Marcus joined them, his gentle smile a reassuring contrast to Caius's intensity. "We are creatures of the night, (y/n). Our longevity, our abilities – they set us apart from humanity."

(y/n)'s mind whirled, a storm of emotions crashing over her. She had suspected as much, yet hearing it confirmed by the very beings she had come to know felt surreal.

"I... I don't know what to say," she admitted, her voice a mixture of awe and uncertainty.

Aro's hand extended towards her, his gesture both inviting and comforting. "We understand that this revelation is a lot to take in."

Caius's gaze softened, his voice holding a rare tenderness. "We are bound by our nature, and yet, we have come to value your presence in our world."

Tears welled in (y/n)'s eyes as she faced the kings she had grown to respect and admire. "It's a lot to process, but I trust you."

Marcus stepped forward, his touch gentle as he brushed a tear from her cheek. "And that's all we could hope for."

Aro's eyes locked onto (y/n)'s, his gaze filled with an intensity that made her heart race. "There is one more truth, my dear."

(y/n) listened, her senses on high alert as Aro's words hung in the air.

"We have kept another secret from you, one that we can no longer conceal," Aro confessed, his voice laced with a mixture of reverence and longing.

Caius's gaze held a hint of vulnerability. "You are our mate, (y/n). Bound to us by a connection that transcends time."

Emotions swirled within (y/n) – disbelief, astonishment, and a growing sense of warmth. She met the eyes of each king, her voice a mixture of acceptance and emotion. "I may not have expected any of this, but I trust in the bonds that have formed between us."

In that moment, the weight of their revelations settled upon her heart. The kings, with all their mystery and power, had bared their souls before her, revealing the complexities of their existence. And as she stood among them, (y/n) realized that her journey had led her to an unprecedented crossroads – a choice between embracing the extraordinary and retreating into the safety of the familiar.

Shyness wrapped itself around (y/n) like a protective shield as she absorbed the weight of the revelation – that she was their mate. The intensity of the kings' feelings was both exhilarating and overwhelming, and the newfound connection she shared with them tugged at her heart in ways she struggled to comprehend.

Her past relationship had left her with deep scars, wounds that had yet to fully heal. The memories of abuse and manipulation had instilled in her a sense of insecurity and unworthiness, making the idea of accepting the affection of the Volturi kings a daunting prospect.

As she stood before Aro, Caius, and Marcus, her gaze shifted between them, her voice barely a whisper as she expressed her thoughts. "I... I appreciate your honesty and your feelings, but I can't help feeling... uncertain. My past... it's left me feeling... afraid to trust again."

Aro's eyes held compassion, a gentleness that seemed to penetrate her insecurities. "We understand, my dear. The wounds of the past are not easily forgotten."

Caius's voice held a rare tenderness, his words carrying a weight of sincerity. "Your pain is valid, (y/n). But we wish to show you that love can be kind and nurturing."

Marcus stepped closer, his presence a source of comfort. "We are not like those who have hurt you before. Our connection is built on understanding and mutual respect."

Tears welled in (y/n)'s eyes, a mixture of vulnerability and longing washing over her. She looked up at them, her voice tremulous yet determined. "I want to believe you. I want to let myself feel this connection. But I need time... time to heal and learn to trust again."

Aro's gaze never wavered, his smile patient and reassuring. "Time, my dear, is a gift we are willing to give."

Caius's expression softened, a rare glimpse of vulnerability crossing his features. "You deserve to be cherished, (y/n), not because you're our mate, but because you're you."

Marcus's hand reached out to gently brush against her cheek, his touch tender and comforting. "We will be here, by your side, as you navigate this journey."

The vulnerability she felt was mirrored in their words and expressions, a testament to the depth of their feelings. As she looked at these powerful, immortal beings, she saw beyond their regal façades to the genuine care they held for her. It was a chance to heal, to rewrite the narrative of her own life, and to embrace love in a way she had never thought possible.

Tears spilled down (y/n)'s cheeks as she nodded, a fragile smile forming. "Thank you... for understanding, for being patient."

Aro's smile was warm, his voice carrying a promise. "We're here whenever you're ready, (y/n)."

In that moment, amidst the echoes of their shared emotions, (y/n) felt a glimmer of hope. It was the first step on a path of healing and growth, a journey toward embracing the love she had once thought was out of reach.

As the days turned into weeks, (y/n) found herself immersed in the embrace of the Volturi kings' affections. Their gestures of care, the way they listened to her, and the tenderness they offered often left her breathless. It was a love unlike anything she had ever experienced, and although she yearned for it, the intensity of their feelings sometimes left her feeling overwhelmed.

One evening, the weight of their love became too much to bear, and (y/n) felt a wave of panic grip her heart. She longed for the familiarity of solitude, a moment to catch her breath and sort through her emotions. Without warning, she fled from the castle, her footsteps carrying her away from the very beings who had come to mean so much to her.

The wind whipped around her as she found herself standing on the cliffs overlooking the sea, her thoughts tumultuous as waves crashing against the rocks below. Doubt clawed at her heart, and the echoes of her past wounds resurfaced, reminding her of her own unworthiness.

Days turned into weeks as the kings searched for her, their concern evident in their tireless efforts. And finally, one evening, as the sun dipped below the horizon, they found her perched on the same cliffs where she had sought solace.

Aro's voice was gentle, his eyes filled with understanding as he spoke. "We've been worried about you, (y/n)."

Caius's expression was a mixture of relief and concern, his gaze never leaving her. "You left so suddenly. We need to know if you're alright."

Marcus stepped forward, his presence calming as he regarded her with a soft smile. "Please, (y/n), tell us what's been troubling you."

Tears welled in (y/n)'s eyes, her voice fragile as she tried to put her feelings into words. "I... I'm not used to this kind of love. It's overwhelming, and I feel like I'm drowning in it."

Aro's voice held a mix of understanding and reassurance. "Our emotions can be intense, but we never intended for you to feel suffocated. (y/n), we care deeply for you, and our love is meant to support and uplift you."

Caius's expression softened, his voice carrying a note of tenderness. "We would never want you to feel trapped, my dear. Your well-being is paramount to us."

Tears streamed down (y/n)'s cheeks as she confessed her deepest fears. "My past... it's left me feeling undeserving of love, like I don't know how to accept it. I ran because I was scared... scared that I would end up hurt again."

Silence hung heavy in the air as the kings absorbed her words, their expressions a mixture of empathy and realization. Finally, Aro stepped closer, his hand reaching out to gently touch her arm.

"Your pain is valid, (y/n). We never meant to trigger those feelings," Aro's voice was gentle, his eyes holding a mixture of sorrow and regret.

Caius's voice held a promise. "We want to understand, to learn what love means to you and to show you that it can be different."

Marcus's smile was warm, his voice carrying a sense of hope. "We're willing to take this journey with you, to redefine what love can be."

As the kings surrounded her, (y/n) felt a glimmer of hope. In their words and actions, she saw a willingness to learn, to grow, and to meet her where she was. The road ahead might be filled with challenges, but as they stood there on the cliffs, (y/n) realized that she was not alone. Together, they would navigate the complexities of love, rewriting the narrative of her past and embracing a future filled with possibilities.

[misshoneyimhome]

Your ex didn’t know what he expected to see when he barged into your office, but it definitely wasn’t you on William's lap doing things he never thought you would ever partake in. He didn’t even have words to process the sight he saw in front of him.

You were so incredibly needy, William's cock stretched your leaking hole as he whispered dirty words in your ear. His large hands gripped your waist, and he smiled at the thought, facial hair tickling your neck as you threw your head back against his broad shoulder. “Such a desperate little thing for my cock, huh?” His voice rough as you had barely walked through the front door before he had your black dress up as you were begging to be fucked.

The door slamming open made his blue eyes look up, an instant look of gratification on his face as he saw your ex standing there in shock. You were so cock drunk too, that you couldn't do couldn't but sit there and continue to take it up your fluttering cunt. William let out a small laugh, staring your ex right in the face as he continued to thrust upward. He was sick for doing this, but then again really gave zero fucks. He wanted this to happen, to finally show that miserable bastard how to treat and pleasure his woman. Your ex's face coex'sted with a mixture of rage, disbelief, and humiliation, his fists clenching at his sides. His eyes darted wildly between you and William, unable to fully comprehend the scene unfolding before him. A little smutty idea for your new series.

Oh, you know how much I adore these naughty ideas in my inbox! 🥴🤤 Though I wasn’t entirely sure how I wanted to approach this, I decided on a simple blurb. I think it might be perfect for iInexperienced!reader x Willy; you know, my favourite naughty series 😉

I’m not sure it’d quite fit with any of the other series, but I’m absolutely loving it! 😍 Sorry, but not proof-read...

Warnings: 18+ smut - unprotected sex (p in v) in a semi-public setting (office), sort of Voyeurism?

Word count: 1.4K

➼｡ﾟ

Your ex-boyfriend’s sudden appearance was a complete shock. Although he had been trying to reach out to you for weeks, his calls and messages went unanswered as you chose to ignore him. And his bold move to show up at your office was clearly one he quickly regretted.

You couldn’t help but wonder if William’s visit was a coincidence. Maybe he had seen your ex’s messages or sensed the tension and decided to drop by to offer some unexpected support. Whatever the reason, his presence turned out to be one of the most intense moments you had shared together.

The office was its usual calm self—modern, with sleek glass walls, minimalist décor, and the gentle hum of downtown Toronto in the background. The polished surfaces and tidy furniture were designed to promote focus and productivity. But today, as you walked through the door, that serene atmosphere was abruptly disrupted.

To your surprise, leaning casually against your desk was your boyfriend, William Nylander. Dressed in a hoodie over a simple t-shirt and sweatpants, his blond hair slightly tousled, and that trademark smile on his lips—a smile that always made your heart race—he radiated relaxed confidence. His presence starkly contrasted with the office’s sterile professionalism. Even after a year and a half together, he still had the power to make the world seem to fade away whenever he was near.

“Surprise,” he said, his voice low and rich, with a hint of amusement that made your pulse quicken.

A rush of warmth spread through you. “Willy, what are you doing here?” you asked, your smile widening as you closed the door behind you. His unexpected arrival was a welcome distraction, and he had a knack for appearing right when you needed him most, even if you didn’t realise it.

“I missed you,” he replied casually, pushing himself off the desk and closing the space between you with a few easy strides. The office seemed to dissolve as his hands found your waist, pulling you closer with a playful glint in his blue eyes. He leaned in slightly, his breath warm against your lips. “Thought I’d surprise you.”

You laughed softly, feeling your heart race with anticipation. “Well, consider me surprised.”

The desk, the reports, and the hum of office noise outside seemed to vanish as the reality of what was about to happen set in. “Maybe I should help you relax a bit,” he teased, his voice dropping lower as he leaned in closer. The air thickened with anticipation, and the casual flirtation between you took on a more charged, electric energy. The room felt suddenly smaller and more intimate, the professional distance you had maintained dissolving rapidly.

William wasn’t just here to chat, and you both knew it. You enjoyed the tension, the way it buzzed just below the surface, waiting for the moment it would break.

You hesitated, glancing at the tinted glass partition that separated your office from the hallway. The thought of being caught in such a public space added a thrilling edge to the moment, making it all the more irresistible. Your office, though small and professional, had never felt so dangerously exciting.

Before you could say anything more, William’s lips were on yours, urgent and possessive. His hands tightened around your waist, lifting you effortlessly and making you gasp against his kiss, the sudden intensity making your head spin. In one smooth motion, he hoisted you up, your legs instinctively wrapping around his waist; his strength was undeniable, sending a shiver down your spine as his body pressed against yours.

With a few long strides, he moved you both behind your desk, and you found yourself sitting on his lap as he settled into your chair. The naughtiness of the situation felt almost cinematic, like something out of a provocative film. The thrill of it all made you dizzy with excitement as he guided you to face the door, your hands braced on the desk. The contrast between the office’s professional ambiance and the intimate act taking place was electrifying.

William’s hands moved deftly under your dress, pushing it up to your waist before he guided your knickers aside. You felt exposed and vulnerable, yet aroused. The office, with its neat rows of filing cabinets and cold, professional décor, now served as a stark backdrop to the raw intensity between you.

William’s hands gripped your hips as he guided you onto his lap, his cock pressing against your core with a delicious pressure that made you moan softly. The way he filled you, stretching you, was almost too much, and yet not enough at the same time. His hips bucked up against you, his thrusts slow but deep, sending waves of pleasure through your body as you began to move with him.

“Such a desperate little thing for my cock, aren’t you?” William growled low in your ear, his breath hot against your skin. His words sent a shiver down your spine, making your already frayed nerves tingle with excitement. His voice, rough and teasing, only added to the growing fire inside you.

Feeling your arousal quickly building, you couldn’t help but gasp, throwing your head back against his broad shoulder as the heat between your legs intensified with each relentless thrust. His rough voice and the scratch of his stubble against your skin were intoxicating, making everything else blur into insignificance. He had barely let you walk through the door before his hands were all over you, and now you were too far gone to care about anything except the man beneath you.

But then, out of nowhere, the door to your office suddenly slammed open with a jarring crash.

William froze for just a second, his breath catching in his throat as he looked up in shock. Standing in the doorway was your ex-boyfriend, his face a mask of shock and disbelief as he took in the scene before him. For a moment, the room seemed to hold its breath, the tension thick and suffocating.

But William didn’t stop. In fact, he seemed to relish the interruption. His eyes gleamed with dark satisfaction as he met your ex’s gaze, a wicked smile playing on his lips as he thrust deeper into you, making you gasp in pleasure despite the unexpected audience.

“Enjoying the show?” William quipped, his voice laced with amusement as he continued to move inside you, his hands gripping your waist even tighter. The power dynamics in the room had shifted entirely—William was in control, and your ex was nothing more than a bystander, powerless to stop what was happening.

“Guess this is how a woman’s supposed to be treated, huh?” William’s voice dripped with taunt, his tone both mocking and triumphant.

You were too far gone, intoxicated by the pleasure your boyfriend was giving you, to fully process your ex’s presence. Your moans filled the room, mingling with the sounds of William’s thrusts. His movements were purposeful now, hard and deep, as if he was savouring every moment and showing your ex precisely what he was missing.

The air in the room grew thick with tension and a raw sense of finality. There was no turning back from this. Your ex’s face contorted further, his body frozen in place as he watched William’s dominance. He opened his mouth to speak, but no words came out. He simply stood there, his gaze locked on the scene before him, unable to look away.

William’s gaze stayed fixed on your ex, his tone dripping with derision as he continued his relentless pace. “Go on, take a good look. This is what you lost. What you’ll never have again.”

The room was charged with a potent mix of emotions—dominance, humiliation, and raw desire. The climax of the moment felt inevitable, a culmination of all the pent-up tension and unresolved feelings.

And as the intensity reached its peak, you couldn’t hold back any longer. With a final, desperate cry, you came hard around William’s cock, your body trembling with the intensity of your orgasm. And William followed soon after, his hips jerking against yours as he found his own release, his groans of pleasure mingling with yours.

The sounds of your combined breaths and the aftermath of your climaxes filled the room, creating a sharp contrast to the stunned silence that followed. But then your ex, his face a picture of defeat and despair, finally turned and left, the door closing behind him with a heavy, echoing thud.

As the office slowly returned to its usual quiet, professional state, the echoes of what had just happened still lingered in the air. You couldn’t help but let out a small chuckle as the realisation sunk in.

“Did he… did my ex really just walk in on us?”

William nodded, a mischievous grin still on his face. “Yup.”

“Shit.”

You weren’t entirely sure if you felt ashamed or not—probably mostly not. All you felt was a lingering rush of pleasure as you gradually calmed down from the high.

[noideabutsims]

Donut Co.'s Dream-Build-Play Blocks: Expansion Edition

🚨 Calling All Simmers! The Wait is OVER! 🎉 Donut Co.'s Dream-Build-Play Blocks: Expansion Pack is FINALLY HERE! 🚨

Dust off those creative hats and prepare for a playtime EXPLOSION because the Dream-Build-Play Blocks are back and better than ever! We've crammed a whopping 80 new items into this expansion pack, guaranteed to transform your Sims' homes into vibrant, block-tastic wonderlands.

🚀 Blast Off to Imagination Station:

20 Unique Dollhouses: Prepare to be WOWED. From towering castles to bustling town centers, there's a miniature masterpiece for every Sim's imagination. Race cars on the Runaway Racetrack, explore the cosmos with the Rocket Up-and-Away, or rule the kingdom from the majestic Clock Tower! Each dollhouse is a portal to a world of endless possibilities.

🏡 Build-Your-Own Clubhouse Kit: Calling all aspiring architects! This kit is your Sim kid's blank canvas. Plop down the invisible base, then let their creativity run wild with 20 colorful building blocks. Design sprawling clubhouses with secret entrances, cozy reading nooks, or even a mini stage for impromptu dance parties!

🏰 2 Pre-Built Playhouses: Need a little inspiration? We've got you covered with two pre-built clubhouses that showcase the endless possibilities of the Build-Your-Own Clubhouse Kit. (Psst... Dreamhouse Decorator required!)

🌈 13 Decor Block Piles & 10 Single Decor Blocks: These aren't just blocks, they're instant bursts of personality! Scatter these colorful creations around your Sims' homes for a playful touch. Or, unleash your inner builder with the single blocks and the magical "bb.moveobjects" cheat – the sky's the limit!

👶 14 Nesting Blocks: Tiny hands, meet big fun! These soft, colorful blocks are perfect for your littlest Sims. Watch them giggle with glee as they stack, nest, and explore a world of shapes and textures. Learning and development have never been so adorable!

🎉 A Rainbow of Possibilities:

We're celebrating creativity in all its forms with two vibrant color options for EVERY block item. Choose from classic brights for a burst of energy, or soft pastels for a touch of dreamy sweetness.

💖 Why You'll LOVE It:

Endless Fun: This set is PACKED with play value, guaranteeing hours of entertainment for Sims of all ages.

Sparks Creativity: Encourage your Sims to think outside the block with open-ended building and imaginative play.

Kid-Approved: We designed this set with little ones in mind, ensuring safety, durability, and maximum fun!

So What Are You Waiting For?

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[melis-writes]

Moth to Flame (Part II) [Michael Corleone x Reader Series, 18+ Smut] Chapter 42 – Matrimony.

Read on AO3 / Read Chapter 41 / Chapter Masterlist. / Fic Playlist.

18+, explicit smut read.

“You’re a Corleone woman now, after all." / “You’re my bride. You deserve that and all the more, do you understand?”

You married Michael Corleone in the summer of 1949, binding the allyship of your two families together but sealing your matrimony with love, bliss and trust. Falling in love, compatibility, love languages and a change in your lifestyle met you in an instant, and being Mrs. Michael Corleone altered your life forever. You can still remember how you fell for him and every bit of affection and intimacy shared from the beginning. You remember; you remember it all, and as you look into the past to compare it to your present and expect for your future, you realize nothing remains changed.

[WARNINGS]: Mentions of virginity/loss of virginity, nudity, sexual themes & depictions, heavy touching & kissing, fingering, mentions of pregnancy & planning for children, sex.

[AUTHOR'S NOTE]: The first in-between chapter of Moth to Flame: Part II is finally here!! 😫🙏🏻 I'm sooo sorry for such a delay in posting this chapter, but life has been extremely hectic and busy. 😭 The Vichael girlies are going to adore this chapter is all I'm going to say! We delve into Victoria and Michael's marriage from the very beginning! 🤭❤️‍🔥 This is filled with romance, fluff and domestic wholesomeness. How Victoria and Michael fell in love to how their lives changed as husband and wife and more is all included. I wanted this to be very romantic and sensual before we dive back into the action of current day Moth to Flame! 😳

1956. Your name is Victoria Ferrari Corleone, and you’re the wife of the most powerful mobster in North America–Michael Corleone. A lifestyle of crime and secrecy is all you've known and ever wanted to know, complimenting the cruelty of Michael Corleone's influence in the United States. With your enemies fallen before you and all loose ends tied up, you continue your life and marriage with the Corleone family while refusing to look back on your past. Yet it's the skeletons in your closet that a shine a light on revealing you're a true mafiosa. Ensnared in the shadows just as much as Michael is, you find yourself betrayed by the unexpected with all of your secrets ready to spill–especially ones you've hidden from Michael. With more than one pair of eyes watching your every move, you find yourself trapped amidst potential scandals and a familiar, lovesick secret admirer adamant on removing Michael out of the picture to have you all to himself. Like a moth to a flame, you've reached the point of no return and the light that breaks down the darkness threatens to take you next.

Bouquets of pink and white roses, white silk, lilac adornments, angel food cake, the lace finishing over your wedding gown, and the taste of Michael’s lips over yours; you married Michael Corleone in the summer of 1949.

Planning for your wedding was one of the few and only times in your life when you felt you had a million things going through your mind at once. 

After weeks of careful planning, the hardest part—the wedding itself—came in bliss and resonated perfectly with everything you had in mind for your perfect wedding day. 

The colors you chose for your wedding ranged from an equal hint of décor in baby pink, lilac, and beige, whereas peonies, lilacs, and dahlias were your flowers of choice.

Silk tablecloth, handcrafted Italian furniture imported from Sicily, seven-tier angel food cake, seven varieties of cannoli from pistachio to limoncello, over a hundred bottles of wine—Grilo, Inzolia and Grecanico just to name a few—aged at least ten years, French champagne, little pastries of sorbets and mini cheesecakes served throughout and freshly squeezed juice from the fruit from the Corleone garden itself were just some of the highlights of your wedding day.

Even your wedding gown itself had been custom designed and tailored with the finest Italian silks and fabrics, following a lengthy session of perfecting your hair, makeup, and manicure with your mother, Mama Corleone, Connie, and Sandra down to rehearing how you would walk down the aisle to which sets of jewelry with diamonds and pearls suited you best. 

Everything was planned and executed to perfection—to say the least. Scarcely were there moments throughout the planning period where the wedding wasn’t mentioned in one way or another; it was the only topic on your mind for days to come.

Consummation of your marriage was expected next from all through tradition and customs, but it wasn’t a concept you and Michael personally believed in. 

Although you were a virgin before you met Michael, he most certainly was not. After his brief marriage with Apollonia, the concept of no intimacy until marriage let alone time spent together or some form of physical affection before marriage was seen and strictly enforced as heavily taboo in Sicily only reminded him of how backward he believed the concept to be, as did you.

Of course, you and Michael were both anticipating and thinking about the intimacy you’d share with one another after your wedding celebration, but not immediately after. That would be eagerly waiting for the both of you at the end of the night.

With the wedding cake having been cut, final drinks served and last dances shared, both of your families collected together all of the bridal gifts, thanked and said goodbyes to every guest they could get to while the wedding staff began to clean up.

Michael and you stood for more photographs by and with guests, thanking them for attending as well before you both made off with security to the vehicle that would take you to your first estate.

You’d both arrive at your new estate by the time security did a full sweep and search of the Corleone manor and all festivities had officially come to an end.

Before you and Michael would settle down for the remainder of the day after the wedding, you both went to meet with your families and new in-laws.

Tomorrow morning there’d be the wedding reception to look forward to after all, but there was more than enough for both you and Michael to think about and do before then.

~

Upon stepping out of your chauffeur’s vehicle at your new estate’s grounds, the first thing your eyes found were those of your bodyguards surrounding your new estate.

Noting the heavy yet inconspicuous security around, it was only a split second longer before you blinked and a warm smile crossed over your lips in reaction to Michael standing by your side; his hand laced with yours as you both began to make your way inside the estate.

Just a few feet from the front door you could already hear the cheerful voices and banter of your parents and in-laws in the foyer; you couldn’t help but feel your exhilarated mood amplify with excitement once more.

“Victoria! Michael! Sweetheart!” Your mother beamed, extending her arms out as she skipped over to the both of you.

Hugged, congratulated a dozen more times, and kissed by your parents and new-in-laws, happy tears are shed once again for you and Michael as a newlywed couple.

“Promettimi che mi chiamerai se ti serve qualcosa!” (Promise me you'll call if you need anything!) Carmela gently squeezed your shoulder after pulling away from a hug, smiling at you. 

“Home sweet home,” your mother cooed, bewildered by the grandiose luxury your new estate has to offer just by standing in the foyer alone. “How wonderful.”

“We’re looking forward to that wedding reception,” your father grinned, redirecting his gaze to Michael. “It’ll be an honor to dine in the newlyweds’ home.”

“It’s an honor to host,” Michael agreed, giving a small, quick smile. “I look forward to it, Don Ferrari.”

“Mm,” Vito nodded, approaching both you and Michael. “And the bridal gifts… I had them arranged to be placed in your guest room. Humble gifts as they may be from our family friends, but they’re close to overflowing.”

“A problem I’d actually like to deal with,” you giggled back. “Thank you, father.”

Naturally, the gifts you received from attending friends, family, and guests aren’t exclusive to gifts newlyweds would benefit from, but a wide variety of items ranging from cash bills to jewelry almost as if the givers were trying to appease you and Michael directly.

Without even having to look inside all of the bridal purses and open each individual gift, you already assumed to yourself there are thousands of dollars worth of gifts there alone waiting for you and Michael that may very well take days to completely open.

Your families deliberately didn’t stay for long to give you and Michael as much privacy as possible today, and you and Michael were more than happy to see them out with waves and smiles before settling down for the rest of the day.

“It’s not over for them,” Michael commented by the gates of the estate, loosening his tie.

“No, it isn’t,” you let out a light laugh, smoothening down your wedding gown. “Not until after the wedding reception, at least.”

Michael chuckled—a rare first time he’s in a somewhat lighthearted mood for the entirety of the day. “Do you need anything, darling?”

“No,” you blushed, gesturing down to your dress. “Only to get this lovely gown off of me in one piece and my makeup at last.”

Just a split second later, you both heard a sharp whistle come towards the gates of the estate which prompted you and Michael’s attention immediately. 

“Hey, Mikey!” Sonny hollered from the gates, leaning against his car and waving at both of you. “No invitations for Tom, Fredo, and I to see the new place, eh? Come on down!”

“I’ll be right with you,” Michael glanced back at you.

You nodded understandingly, relieved you’ll at least get the time to quickly undress and take off your makeup before finally getting to spend some time alone with Michael, and you’re more than happy to have Michael bond with his brothers before retiring for the rest of the day with you too.

The endless amounts of gifts and stuffed bridal purses crossed your mind once more as you entered the estate, imagining you and Michael would more than likely have to get Tom to secure any precious assets or cash bills while the other items remain secure.

You carefully slipped out of your wedding gown and let the lacy, tulle fabric pool at your feet as you grabbed a white, silk nightgown to step into; careful not to let any of your makeup smear against the fabric.

You’re not one to wear a full face of makeup on any regular day, but outings, special events, and evenings—especially your wedding—remain exceptions each time you enjoyed getting dolled up, but your daily beauty routine only consisted of your normal skincare steps, light eye makeup, a bit of eyeliner, mascara, and lipstick.

Upon Michael’s return inside the estate and to the bedroom to undress and unwind, it was his first time gazing upon your face without any makeup as you cautiously stored your nightgown away in an empty closet.

You hadn’t even noticed Michael’s eyes on you at first but picked up on his presence immediately; right then and there, Michael had found himself admiring your beauty and looks, stunned by your natural appearance.

“More congratulations?” You smiled shyly, turning around to face your new husband.

“Something like that,” Michael answered, tossing his tie onto the edge of the bed. “Nothing we both haven’t heard enough of.”

You held back your laughter, “then I hope you don’t mind I retired my glamor for the night already.”

“Not at all,” a ghost of a smile crossed Michael’s lips as he slowly began to approach you. “I’m sure the bridal gifts have nothing but your name on them, after all. I don’t think I need to go and see for myself.”

“Oh, please,” you felt a blush stinging your cheeks as you gazed up at Michael.

“You look beautiful,” Michael murmured, tilting your chin up to face him. “You know that?”

Your skin gave a healthy glow under the evening light as Michael admired every inch of you from the shape of your cheekbones to the color of your eyes, the curve of your lips, and your body language towards him filled with desire.

You expected then and there for Michael to lean in and kiss you, and he did, but gently upon your forehead as he let his warm lips linger over your skin.

You closed your eyes for a brief moment and embraced your husband, taking in the scent of his heavenly cologne as your heart began to race in your chest against his.

“You should expect all of this, you know,” Michael spoke to you in an ushered voice. “You’re a Corleone woman now, after all. Those gifts want nothing more than to appease and impress you, I’ll make sure of it myself.”

Michael’s intention is to spoil you to no avail and not only with material gifts but your every request; the luxurious lifestyle you can expect to live with him as Michael’s wife and the future mother of his children holds you on a separate pedestal next to being Don Ferarri’s wife, and Michael will continue to keep it that way.

The very gifts with your name engraved upon them awaiting you consisted of everything from cosmetics, luxurious perfumes, oils, and creams, full sets of dazzling jewelry set with diamonds and precious stones, congratulatory letters, towel sets followed by pacifiers, bibs, baby bottles, and cloth diapers that made you blush as you unwrapped them—knowing all would be expecting the news of your first pregnancy next.

An amused look crossed Michael’s eye as he wrapped his arms around you seeing you open the final present for today a set of two pacifiers, he saw a look of excitement over your own expression but also blush spreading over your cheeks as the two of you made eye contact once again, knowing the rest of the night began to the both of you. 

~

The first home you and Michael owned together and settled in was a grand estate in Long Island but outside of the Corleone mall unlike Connie and Carlo’s home and that of Sonny and Sandra’s that were inside the gated family community.

Still, your new home was not far from Michael’s family or yours, and you could make the commute in twenty minutes. 

The plot of land in which your new estate would be built was purchased immediately on the day of your engagement ceremony with construction where your father and Vito had given the green light for construction to begin the day of.

Normally for the size of your estate, it would have taken a good construction crew six months with daily work, but the home was completely finished in just one. Bringing in extra of the best workers and paying a premium always worked well in the end. 

Your grand estate stood at just slightly over five thousand square feet with state-of-the-art architecture, taking inspiration from Modern American design to Italian fixtures and marble imported from Rome. 

Your estate was two stories, finished with an attic consisting of a master bedroom with a walk-in closet designed to be almost the size of a small bedroom for you and Michael, a study that was half a private library, two guest rooms downstairs, a nursery upstairs, a wine room in the basement, full front and back yard, three other extra bedrooms, an office for Michael and four bathrooms.

A mid-sized swimming pool was built in the backyard where your home’s carefully curated and trimmed garden surrounded the sides and fences protected your family’s privacy so one could neither look into the estate grounds nor out of it.

Twenty-four-hour surveillance was always to be expected with varying bodyguards and a careful selection of specific windows—such as the ones in Michael’s office—were selected and built to be soundproof.

Your bathtub had 24k gold claw-finished, quartz countertops as well as in the kitchen, marble floors, a foyer in the front of the estate fit with a French handcrafted chandelier, a private exit to the gardens and plenty of storage with a full laundry room at the end of the hallway downstairs.

Crown fixtures adorned the kitchen and a wide spiral staircase decorated with a blood-red carpet led upstairs to where one of two hidden emergency exits only you and Michael knew how to activate could be found.

The price of your home came to a grand total of $250,000 and was exactly where you and Michael wanted to be; exactly where the two of you planned to start your family and raise your children.

Michael and you had both grown up in Long Island; meaning nothing short of symbolic with the feel of home settling into your first house in New York together.

You and Michael only had a brief discussion about where your first home could be since the two of you came to an agreement so quickly to choose Long Island to stay in.

At the time, thoughts of buying another home elsewhere or even moving in the future were not on your mind although Michael had begun to think of Nevada and a villa in Sicily almost immediately on; the latter being a familiar and mutually agreed upon idea to you.

Of course, both you and Michael’s family knew just as well as the both of you why you didn’t have a honeymoon after your wedding, and there were no questions asked or teasing to be made.

Going on a honeymoon with Michael after your wedding was in your mind just as much as your wedding was, but the same could not be said for Michael who was much too preoccupied with the danger and threat of another family war, especially with hostility coming from the Ricci family.

Going outside of New York—let alone going to Sicily—would paint a clear, red target over both your and Michael’s backs and especially create vulnerability within the Corleone family considering Vito was semi-retired at the time.

It didn’t matter if you and Michael decided to visit Rome, Venice, or anywhere else in Italy just for the sake of visiting home but staying away from Sicily; the mafia families including the Ricci’s still had power stretching there legitimately.

Naturally, both you and Michael yearned to take a true honeymoon trip to Sicily and Sicily only. Even with the rest of the world as a choice to visit, you would have rather continued to postpone your honeymoon until you could safely visit Sicily again without having to worry about anything but how to spend quality time with your husband.

You’d very well have your honeymoon with Michael a little after your first anniversary together, somewhat defeating the purpose of a true honeymoon but with the threat of your lives and your family on the line, it was all very worth it with a legitimate reason to delay.

In Michael’s second marriage now come hell or high water he would never risk a slight chance of you being anywhere where there’s a notion of danger, even if you begged him to.

“Well,” you bit your lip, shrugging your shoulders. “I’m a little disappointed, but I understand.”

“I know, darling,” Michael raised his water glass to his lips, taking a sip. “I feel no different than you do.”

You brushed your fingers against the fabric of the window’s curtains and glanced over to Michael again. “They’ll know, won’t they?”

Michael’s eyes met with yours almost instantly; his expression appeared grim knowing you referred to the Ricci family, but with the Barzinis and Tattaglias to worry about as well.

“As they do,” Michael replied and set his glass down. “Does it bother you?”

“Not exactly,” you shook your head and faced the window—blushing as you felt Michael’s presence approach you from behind. “But it’s been on my mind again and again these past few weeks. I can’t shake it off.”

“And on mine,” Michael lovingly embraced you from behind and lightly pressed his chest against your back. “As much as I would like to degrade them to such, they’re not animal enough to disgrace a wedding, even without an invite.”

“They should know better,” you murmured under your breath.

“And they more than likely do,” Michael nodded and moved his hands down to your hips to tenderly caress them. “None of those men deserve further justifications, but above all, they’re curious about you, and just who you are.”

You placed your hands over Michael’s and gave them a soft squeeze as you remained quiet.

“If it’s about safety—” Michael began.

“I feel safe with you,” you told him as you turned around.

Michael’s eyes locked onto yours as he gave you a small nod; you swore to yourself for a moment that you could see a glimmer of a brief smile over his plush lips. 

“I do,” you continued, “always. And as you can guess…” You blushed sheepishly, “I was thinking about our honeymoon too, and we can’t even go.”

“We will soon enough,” Michael rubbed up and down your arms gingerly. “When we are able to and when we can. You know it’s not something I want to put aside to forget or neglect.”

“I know, baby,” you smiled back shyly. “I believe you.”

“I’ll make it up to you,” Michael lowered his tone of voice and pressed a warm kiss over your forehead. “I promise I will. None of what our family is going through now will last. I personally guarantee it,” as Michael moved back from the kiss, he tilted your chin up to gaze directly into his eyes. “You’re my bride. You deserve that and all the more, do you understand?”

Blushing furiously and feeling a wave of butterflies rush to the pit of your stomach, you nodded at Michael before leaning up to give his lips a sweet kiss.

“I’ll wait until you say we can go,” you whispered against his lips as you wrapped an arm around Michael’s shoulders.

“Until then,” Michael murmured and closed off the distance between both of your bodies, ensnaring you in a deep kiss once more.

~

Michael’s changed lifestyle to a mafioso and your continued one as a mafiosa would never change. You both married one another knowing what your lives are and would continue to be, but also remaining unaltered.

You’re a lawyer, after all, and a skilled prosecutor with a name made for herself—reputation and all—in New York. Your career is more than something you see to corrupt and use for your “family business”, but is also a passion; something you want to continue doing until you feel ready to retire.

Michael was always impressed as to how you were able to find a passionate career that also benefited both sides of the family business. 

Through being a lawyer, you also bonded well with Tom and had another fellow lawyer as a brother-in-law to bond with.

Regardless of whether you and Michael choose to have one child a fear down the line or four back to back, Michael has no intention of interfering in your career or keeping you from it; the same can be said for any of your other passions and hobbies.

You already know your maternity leave from work and raising an infant will take priority in your life which will result in a break from work, but you’ve accepted it and will make it happen. 

Perhaps if you weren’t a mafiosa yourself from a powerful crime family, you would have fit the bill as a mafioso’s housewife better but Michael recognizes your true talents and abilities just as well as you know yourself.

Now married, you attend trials and continue with your cases at most three times a week. After all, you’ve always been careful in choosing which cases to get involved in while maintaining a flexible schedule for yourself.

You built a reputation with your prowess this far without Michael and his family’s influence, which begs the question of what Michael’s lifestyle has become after marrying you.

Michael is always working, even when he’s not. More than ever, Michael spends time with his father and brothers. Even when Michael is alone in his own office, he’s talking over the phone to his men or family and constantly keeping himself preoccupied until he’s with you.

Michael’s unwavering dedication to the family business, his loyalty, and his work ethic don’t bother you. As a matter of fact, it’s everything you expected from Michael and saw coming before you married him.

What you love about Michael’s work with the family business is that he can separate it and he will separate it very well from his personal life. 

Michael does not mention anything related to his work when he’s with you regardless of how casual the circumstances or if your own curiosity arises since your family is also almost always involved. 

You know then and only in those scenarios would you ask Michael a question if you had one and your family could not answer; you know your boundaries and where the line remains when asking Michael about his work.

To Michael, any mention of what he does and what he is outside of work is nothing but severely unpleasant and he would rather avoid it altogether; something you respect and agree with.

At dinner one evening, you saw Michael’s tension settled within him as he ate—sitting across from you in silence. 

Michael sighed quietly and took a sip of his red wine before his eyes met yours; seeing curiosity spark in your expression.

“Ready to settle down, baby?” You asked with a soft smile.

“Something like that,” Michael nodded, continuing to eat his risotto. 

“Everything alright with your father?” You asked and rose up from your seat to begin cleaning up. 

“He’s fine,” Michael’s answers were dry and to the point on purpose. “We’re working on it.”

“Alright,” you gathered a pile of empty plates, brushing off crumbs upon the tablecloth next to Michael.

Only a split second later did you look back up at Michael and catch his eye—almost feeling embarrassed for asking but you neither see annoyance nor discomfort in Michael’s expression. 

You understood Michael didn’t want to talk about this with you and you didn’t push it. You also knew last night he didn’t come home from his father’s estate until 2 AM, and you had no intention of bothering him about it now. 

You’ve always had more than enough to do for yourself and for the home regardless of how long Michael worked in or out of the manor. 

You’d have your own day to worry about; cleaning up after breakfast, prepping for lunch, tidying up the house, laundry if required, getting any other daily errands done, focusing on a bit of your own work projects, then relaxing with a good book or in front of the television with a glass of wine. 

You could step out into the garden for some fresh air, pull weeds, water the lawn, go for a walk or a dip in the pool; you balance your work and life well and you’ve never felt neglected or lost without a sense of purpose.

The compatibility between you and Michael is like none other and the two of you have always recognized this; there is no lack of transparency or intimacy, and there is no elephant in the room blocking the two of you from bonding with one another.

You and Michael could and always will make it work. 

~

When it came down to planning to start a family with each other, having children was brought up immediately between Michael and you; a crucial concept and the second step into a married life with one another.

Of course, the brief conversation that only consisted of asking one another if you wanted children when you and Michael had first met did not count as a real and insightful conversation, it did strike you that Michael was a mature and serious man, ready for fatherhood and expecting to start a family in the very near future.

Michael would not have minded waiting a year or two before having children, but he would personally not wish to delay it any further past that.

To Michael, it was as if he had an urgency of some kind to start a family but there was no reasoning behind it or pressure coming from anyone. Still, you came to appreciate how much Michael anticipated entering parenthood with you, regardless of his reasons.

Perhaps you did sense Michael’s urgency when he first met you and asked if you wanted to have children in the future, but you simply had brushed it off for all that it was—a simple question.

You were twenty-five years old when you met Michael, and you were the second youngest sibling in your family and the only daughter.

With your little brother Dante being fifteen years younger than you, you practically raised him alongside your brothers and because you came from an equally large extended family, you loved children for as long as you could remember.

Just as you and your brothers had grown up, you knew the importance of proper parenting and how love would mold a child’s life forever.

Michael believed children were the products of their parents’ discipline, love, and behavior, saying, “If adults can bring out the worst in each other, they can do the same for children”.

Michael himself was twenty-nine when he met you and neither of you had objections of any kind to starting a family immediately after getting married.

Coming from the families and reputations you both grew up in and had, things such as time and money would simply not be an issue for you and Michael.

It was more of a matter of readiness and active parenting heavily required from both of you equally, not just yours as the mother. 

You also knew Michael would be a stricter parent than you, but this did not imply anything harsh or along the lines of cruelty whatsoever. 

Michael is not the type of man to ever raise a hand against a child or even raise his voice; calm, and collected, and with thorough explanation comes discipline and understanding. Michael knows how a child’s mind copes and works. 

You are most definitely not the kind of parent to yell, threaten, let alone glare at children to have them respect or tolerate your fear let alone beat a child.

Neither Michael nor you ever faced such things growing up, but you both saw your fair share growing up with other children at school and in the neighborhood who did not have the same childhood as you two did.

Any type of abuse or psychological manipulation was a severe hard line; it was something you and Michael would never subject any child to, ever.

From being the only big sister to your little brother Dante, you knew there were a million ways around teaching and disciplining children without being physically, psychologically, or verbally abusive—even to children who have behavior issues. 

You and Michael had been stressing to yourselves subconsciously the need to be nothing but good, loving parents teaching your future children manners and discipline early on without fear of repercussions or pain, but simply just to learn and understand.

~

Just a week ago you walked down the aisle and faced your lover—for the last time only as a lover before becoming Michael’s wife, wedded as Mrs. Corleone.

Now as you gazed at yourself in the mirror, the role of Michael Corleone’s wife had already truly embedded in you; seeing your husband clasping a new diamond necklace around your neck gently.

You blushed as you caught Michael’s eye in the mirror, placing a hand over your necklace carefully.

Michael admired the glistening diamonds over your neck; his eyes adoring the very shape of your collarbones before he leaned toward your shoulder and planted a soft kiss over it.

With a bit of arousal having flared up in you, you shivered from Michael’s warm touch as he let his hands linger around the back of your neck before he placed them on your hips.

“Mm,” your eyes fluttered shut as you took in the brief moment, feeling Michael’s breath over the side of your neck.

Michael’s hands slowly made their way over to your stomach where he rubbed tenderly, watching as your body language submitted to how good he was already making you feel.

“Are you late?” Michael murmured over your shoulder.

Butterflies churned in your stomach and blush stung your cheeks at the very question. “I think it’s still too soon to tell, baby.”

“Mm,” Michael nodded and began to massage your sides.

“Why do you ask?” You slowly opened your eyes and spoke to him in a soft, ushered tone. “Do you suspect I am?”

“Perhaps,” Michael answered, “I want to be the first to know.”

You cracked a shy smile, “and you will be without a doubt.”

“I’m looking forward to it,” Michael took your hands in his, turning you around to face him directly before he pulled you into his embrace. “Although you never did tell me how many you wanted.”

“I can tell you now,” you rested your head over Michael’s chest and nodded. “Four little ones… That would be something.”

“Mhmm,” Michael kissed the top of your head. “A topic better suited for the future after we have our first.”

“Boy or girl?” You grinned and looked up at your husband.

“Doesn’t matter,” Michael told you. “But ultimately a son somewhere down the line to succeed our family.”

‘Of course.’ You knew it must have been the same with Michael’s father as it was with yours; one son at the very least to carry the family’s legacy under his name. ‘Understandable.’

“If you’re not…” Michael’s hands touched your hips again; his eyes beckoning to you. “Then we can try again.”

“And again?” You teased back, giggling. “Tonight.”

“Tonight,” Michael murmured and pulled your hips into his.

“As many times as we need to, hmm?” Your breath hitched as you bit down on your lip.

“As many times as you want to,” Michael corrected before he sealed a kiss over your lips.

~

The intimacy and love continuing to blossom between you and Michael unfolded in feverish desire and yearning. Like the beginning of an eternal and dangerous addiction, neither of you could get enough of the other.

Michael knew your love language was physical affection and words of affirmation just as you knew he was spending quality time with you and touching. 

Michael couldn’t care less for material gifts and preferred experiences above all, but you would be lying if you said you didn’t care, enjoy, or appreciate either.

“Ah…” A breathy moan escaped your lips as your hand clutched over Michael’s back; feeling his firm, flexing muscle as Michael remained leaning down and hovering over your naked body.

Between the sounds of Michael’s lips leaving a trail of hot kisses over your neck, you heard his breathing hitching as his throbbing erection pressed against your stomach.

Barely a week into your marriage and filled to the brim with insatiable love and desire, Michael was unable to get enough of his new bride and her beauty.

“Ohhh…”

Inhaling deeply, Michael took in your scent as he nuzzled your neck; now glowing pink with the love marks he left behind as you had let your free hand roam through Michael’s tousled hair.

“Look at me,” Michael whispered against your lips as he grazed his thumb over your mouth, parting your bottom lip. “Look at me when I make love to you.”

‘Oh God, yes…’

The first three months of marriage may as well have been a fever dream for both of you. 

Of course, none would be surprised at the sudden stamina the new bride and groom have for one another although some teasing and a dirty joke here and there would be in order, but if it wasn’t a night out or quality time spent with the family, Michael and you were doing nothing else but getting lost in one another again and again.

You’d lay in bed naked with the blankets barely covering yourself as you’d watch Michael strip down right in front of you before approaching you on the bed, and Michael enjoyed every second of undressing you himself with his own hands; the way the curves of your hips and fullness of your thighs felt against his hand as your skin was hot to the touch, brimming with passion and your body begging for pleasure was nothing short of ecstasy to Michael.

With your bodies intertwined with one another, you could practically feel Michael’s heart racing against yours; nothing but toe-curling, eye-rolling, intense orgasms, and memorizing every part of each other’s bodies filled your evenings for days to come.

You woke an urge tailored to your pleasure inside of Michael he could not ignore. Even after a night of ecstasy, if you approached him half-naked in the living room and begged Michael to fuck you again, he wouldn’t say no. 

You straddled Michael’s lap and let your lace panties slip off your ankles as you felt the smooth, Italian silk fabric of Michael’s suit brush against your bare skin.

On his lap, you let out a whimpering moan as you pressed your hips against his and ran your hands up Michael’s half-unbuttoned dress shirt; his chest hair brushing past your fingers as you clutched onto his shoulders.

Michael leaned his back against his seat comfortably; his hands ran from your calves to your upper thighs before he cupped your ass and gave it a greedy squeeze.

Michael’s eyes expectantly looked at you. “You play the innocent, sweet role well…” 

“Mm—” You whimpered as you pressed your lips against Michael’s neck from him giving your ass another harsh squeeze.

“But I see right through it,” Michael whispered to you—his tone low and husky. 

“I…” You breathed shakily against Michael’s skin before planting a deep kiss over it; your free hand roamed through his black, silky hair.

You heard a barely audible, soft moan escape Michael’s lips which only intensified the feverish arousal coursing through your veins as you continued to hungrily kiss up and around Michael’s neck.

Michael wrapped one arm around your waist and kept his hand over your ass; his eyes half remained half-opened as he let you get lost within him, taking and getting everything you want.

Your kisses grew wet, hot, and sloppy around Michael’s jawline as you moaned through them yourself; severely aroused to the point where you thought your wetness pooling over the fabric of your panties was soaking through Michael’s trousers.

“Mine…” You cupped Michael’s cheek and turned his face to look him in the eye directly. “All mine…”

“Yours,” Michael said back before his lips sealed over yours in a crushing, needy kiss.

Your pussy throbbed from arousal over Michael’s knee; it practically had a heartbeat of its own from how horny you were feeling towards your husband—so much so that it was almost criminal.

“Look at you,” As Michael pulled away from the kiss, he gripped your throat with his free hand and let his thumb trace the outline of your bottom lip. “Can’t get your hands off of me.”

“You’re mine,” you panted back and took Michael by pleasant surprise as you licked his thumb. “

“That’s right, baby,” Michael murmured before pulling you back to him by your throat to give you another wet, rough kiss over the mouth. 

As you fully straddled Michael’s lap and began to slowly grind your hips, gyrating them against Michael’s pulsating erection, Michael let his hands slip up through your skirt and play with the band of your panties.

Lost in insistent, passionate kisses, Michael pulled at your panties only to let it snap back against your skin as you were distracted between his lips.

Michael let his fingers go further, parting your dewy pussy lips to spread your wetness with one hand while squeezing your breast and massaging your nipple with his fingers on the other.

Aside from such fiery, mutual infatuation and lust, there was more; there was and always will be more. 

The love between you and Michael blossomed so naturally that it could never feel forced like it was some sort of obligation that had to be fulfilled.

In public, despite the two of you being not so fond of blatant displays of affection, held hands or had Michael wrap an arm over your waist in casual but adoring affection you craved and yearned for always.

Just one touch from Michael—let alone his presence—was more than enough for you. It did nothing but thrill you all the more knowing this man is yours and you’re his; you’ll have all of Michael whenever you want and however you want. 

Distance makes your heart grow fonder when Michael’s away on his business trips or doesn’t come home for a night. You’ve never felt insecurity, unsafe, or any sort of lingering sadness about Michael’s consistent absences to begin with.

Even at the end of a long night with little time to yourselves to follow another eventful one, you’d have just the same satisfaction in Michael’s embrace without the sexual intimacy. 

Some of your most loving, romantic nights with Michael were the two of you skin-to-skin on the rooftop, naked and exchanging soft kisses as Michael smoked a cigarette.

Saying, “Yes, I do” and signing your marriage papers, your legal name became Victoria Ferrari Corleone; a unique love and lover to Michael in the sense that Michael could never treat you the way he treated Apollonia or Kay, but exponentially more protective, loving, and open to you in all aspects.

Your compatibility with Michael only resulted in him being all the more open with you; not feeling obligated to because you’ll get upset or ask, but because Michael wishes to—because he wants to. 

There’s simply no entitlement; only love and caring. You could not describe your marriage to Michael Corleone in any other way.

[sweetercalypso]

Mercenary || Marc Spector

Word Count: 1.5k

Summary: while on an undercover mission, Marc suspects he’s been recognized. In hopes of protecting his disguise, he’s forced to get creative.

Notes: no major warnings; kissing, cursing, and vague mentions of alcohol. Canon? Don’t know her. Pre-Moon-Knight Marc with no mentions of Khonshu or alters. No reader pronouns.

“Darling, there you are!”

You turn at the sound of a nearby voice, surprised to see a man standing just out of reach with his attention and his arms outstretched in your direction.

The touch of his hand against your shoulder sends chills down your spine as you look over the stranger with mannered scrutiny. The evening had been overwhelmed with small talk and cordial chatter, yet the dark eyes staring back at you were an unfamiliar sight.

“I’m sorry, I think you’ve mistaken me for someone else.” Your soft reply is barely audible over the melodic string music traveling through the busy ballroom.

The man furrows his brow slightly before wiping the uncertainty from his features. His broad shoulders pull back and he gives a small grin. His charcoal grey suit and black oxfords don’t offer much significance amongst the sea of champagne socialites in attendance, but his mused hair and the yellowing bruise over his jaw are enough to tell you that he’s a character out of place.

“You’re right, I’m sorry,” he laughs airily. His hand drops slowly from your shoulder, travelling down your arm before he waves over a nearby waiter and grabs two glasses from the tray of tawny bubbling spirits.

“I don’t think we’ve met,” you say, accepting the drink with a gracious smile.

“No,” he clinks his glass against yours. “I would’ve remembered meeting you.”

Raising the glass to your painted lips, you take a moment to study the man in front of you. He doesn’t seem impressed by the room’s ornate décor, nor is he drawn to the sea of lively barons and their engrossed coterie.

Instead, he seems to count the expanse of windows across every wall, eyes jumping over each exit like he’s planning an escape. His presence draws no attention, and he doesn’t acknowledge partygoers as they waltz by. It seems, in fact, that this man is a stranger to more than just your company.

“So,” you drawl, startling the stillness that had settled around the two of you. “What are you doing here?”

“I’m having a lovely evening with a beautiful stranger.”

“Right.” You nod curtly, not missing the glint of mischief in his eye. “But what, exactly, brings you here this evening?”

You lean in closely, eyes locking onto his to gauge his reaction. “You look like a man on a mission.”

His face morphs into a look of surprise. He mulls over your words for a minute, surely weighing his options in his mind. Finally, he sighs, a sly grin creeping over his features.

“You caught me.”

Your eyes widen at his unexpected response, realizing that you were right about this rogue stranger. Thoughts of peril and unknown dangers flash in your mind like a silent alarm, but a small voice insists that he’s no threat to you.

“I’m here on business,” he begins, eyes flickering over the oblivious crowd gathered just out of earshot. “I got close to my mark earlier, but the guards got suspicious. I just need to blend in until the party’s over.”

You nod absently, giving thought to what he’d said. “So, you’re here to kill someone?”

“Not today,” he quips with a click of his tongue. “Too much of a mess.”

Nervous laughter spills from your lips. You fight to contain your sudden reaction, but it’s too much to keep from overflowing. This stranger – charming and entertaining as he may be – is dangerous, and his presence is surely no laughing matter.

Taking a moment to quiet your composure, you miss the way the man’s eyes flicker once – twice – over your shoulder when he notices a group of tall, serious-looking men moving steadily in your direction. His jaw tightens and he quickly ducks his head, deflating the humor from your lungs in an instant.

“Is everything alright?” You ask, tilting your head to meet his downcast gaze.

The man shakes his head stiffly and takes another survey of the room, searching for a way to make an escape. He spots the thicket of slow dancers in front of the orchestra and he’s quick in forming a plan.

“Dance with me.”

“What?” You blink at him with wide eyes, not sure what to think of his sudden request.

“I think I’ve been spotted and I need to hide my face. Dance with me. Please.”

A short nod is enough of an answer for the raven-haired man. He slips the half-empty champagne flute from your grasp, abandoning your drinks on a nearby table in favor of leading you towards the dance floor across the room. The two of you weave wordlessly through the throng of duos until the rest of the room is lost beyond the intimate sway of the masses.

He stops once he’s sure he’s out of sight, jaw tensing like he’s deep in thought. His hand guides yours to rest softly on his shoulder while his other palms aptly at your hip.

“M’not much of a dancer,” he says quietly, almost apologetic in the way his feet immediately begin to stumble into yours.

The corners of your mouth tick upwards as you fight back a grin. With each ungainly step he takes in creating a clumsy waltz, you begin to see more of the humble man behind the disguise.

“That’s alright,” you assure him with a smile. “I’ll lead.”

You plant your feet as confidently as you can manage and use your hold on his shoulder to push and pull him along with your strides.

One foot leads the other and the two of you fall into a fluid, measured step. Before long, you’re moving in a comfortable sway like familiar friends or devoted partners.

“Are they looking for me?” He asks lowly once you’re turned in the right direction to see the party over his shoulder.

Two gruff men in plain black suits roam through the crowd on either side of the room, slowly taking count of each person in attendance.

You suck in a deep breath as one glances in your direction, almost as if he knows he’s being watched.

“Yeah,” you reply in a whisper, nodding your head as subtly as you can. “I see at least four, and they’re heading this way.”

“Shit,” he curses under his breath. “I was trying to avoid making a scene.”

The situation calls for action, but you’re unable to think of any way to help the man beyond what you’ve done thus far. You’re not a spy, or anything else of importance that might’ve granted you the skills to aid in this affair.

Just as one of the guards begins to part through the dancing couples, a wave of panic washes over you. In an act of instinct, rather than tactic, you lean in and press your lips to his, placing a hand on the stranger’s cheek in order to hide his face.

He’s still for a moment before he reacts and wraps his arm around you in a tight embrace. His mouth moves against yours skillfully, eagerly, like this impromptu kiss was planned all along.

The guard is long gone by the time you pull away, breathless and wide-eyed at the realization of what you’d done.

“I’m so sorry-” you drop your hands from his face, taking a step back to put a respectable distance between the two of you. “I don’t know what came over me. I saw the guard coming and-”

“Thank you,” he interrupts your nervous apology with a grateful smile.

“I have to go while they’re still busy looking for me, but really, you’ve been a great help.”

He’s turning to leave before you can think to stop him, disappearing into the crowd without so much as a hint as to who he is or where he’s going next. The mystery of the evening remains unsolved, much to your displeasure.

“Wait.”

You’re pushing through the crowd to follow after him, careless of the odd glances you receive from demure guests in your wake.

When you’re close enough to touch him, you call out another “wait!”, grabbing his wrist to keep from losing him in the crowd.

You’re almost upset with him for leaving so feebly, although you’d never admit it out loud. The thrill of the evening had sparked something inside of you, and the spontaneous kiss had only left you wanting more. But now that the adventure is dying down, you’re beginning to lose your confidence.

When you realize he’s waiting for you to speak, you’re suddenly at a loss for words. The need for excitement has grown cold, fizzling out until you’re left with a dreadful pit in the bottom of your stomach.

“I, uh- I didn’t get your name.”

It’s an anticlimactic end to your meeting, but it’s all you can think to say in the moment.

He flashes a smile that reminds you of when you’d first met. No longer faced with the threat of guards closing in, the man’s cool composure has been restored. With a familiar sly expression, he offers only a fleeting response before he’s whisked away:

“Don’t worry – I’m sure we’ll meet again.”

[bullyingfictionalmen]

Crow’s Lullaby

Summary: The year: 1925. The place: Linkon City. ‘Evol’ as a concept is only just being studied. A young singer with a sordid past and an infamous criminal with a penchant for jazz cross paths, perhaps not for the first time. She’s chasing her dreams, he might be the only person in the city with the sway to keep her safe. But will teaming up bring mysteries to light, or will it seal their doom?

Read on AO3

Word Count: 1.9k

CW: violence, main story/anecdote spoilers, fem!MC, eventual smut

1: A Siren Sings in an Empty Room

When you got the job at Sour Note, it was just waiting tables. You knew the jazz club held secrets that its meager stage belied, but the owner, Luke, had nearly laughed you out of the interview when you proposed a steady singing gig.

“Listen, doll, you’ve got guts, but moxie don’t pay the bills. You think a waif like you with no name recognition could draw a crowd, much less keep ‘em hooked ‘til the fifth cocktail?”

“You haven’t even heard me sing! What if—” but your plea fell on deaf ears. It was all you could do to convince him to let you wash dishes in the back.

But everything changes one slow, rainy night. Fall is fading fast, succumbing to winter’s biting chill. The club is nearly empty after the dinner rush dies, save a few regulars in the back having a hushed conversation. Their faces are obscured by cigar smoke, nowhere near needing assistance. Bored, you feel your eyes wandering toward the ornate grand piano, as they often do when you have a free moment. Unlike the rest of the muted décor, Sour Note’s piano is pristine, glossy, even. It’s old, but has clearly been treated with the utmost care. Luke has told you on multiple occasions that if you touch it, he’ll cut off your thumbs.

But Luke’s not here tonight. Your fingers are practically itching, and one little song couldn’t hurt. Quietly, you slide onto the bench, mind racing, hands hovering over the keys. For a moment, you feel paralyzed with uncertainty. Your throat clenches, your chest is heavy. No big deal, you reassure yourself. No one will find out. This is just for me.

You begin to sing, softly at first. Your breathing is a little unsteady, your hands are stiff. But as you continue your performance, the fear melts away. In its place swells the joy of pure artistic expression, the satisfaction of doing what you love. Your voice, a rich and warm contrast to this dreary evening, seems to soar and fill the room. The gentle, twinkling piano flows beneath it like magic. When the last note rings out, you feel an unabashed grin lighting up your face. Your dream has come true, if only for a moment.

Show, sharp applause breaks you out of your trance in an instant. Your gaze darts to the table of regulars, but they aren’t the source of it. At some point during the song, a gentleman you’ve never seen before has entered the club. Your panicked brain hones in on each striking feature, silver-white hair that’s perfectly mussed in spite of the rain, blazing red eyes, a neatly-pressed suit with a leather jacket draped over his broad shoulders. He exudes the kind of nonchalant self-assurance you’ve only ever associated with the exorbitantly wealthy. He’s lounging on one of the sofas like he owns the place, eyeing you with an intensity that makes you want to crouch down and hide like a scolded child.

“Well, now,” he drawls, standing up and taking a step toward the stage. His voice is so deep and melodic that it makes you shiver. “I’m shocked. I wasn’t aware that Luke had booked a musical guest for this evening.”

You feel a blush creeping all the way to your ears. Debate lying and lightly playing it off. But something about this man’s demeanor, the wry arch of his eyebrow, makes you feel like he can read your every thought. All possible excuses die before they can reach your lips. “He… he didn’t.”

The man laughs softly, and you’re sure he already knew that. “I see. Bold, aren’t we, kitten? There are few who would dare to lay hands on my mother’s piano. But you really gave it your all, so I’ll let it slide.”

You gasp, hands jerking away from the keys like you’ve been burned. “Your… mother’s…?”

The man’s lips quirk into a sly grin. “No need to be scared. Instruments are meant to be played, right?” He steps up onto the stage, looming over you. “Though I do like that pretty ‘o’ your mouth makes when you’re surprised.”

Your hands fly to cover your face. You try desperately to think of something, anything intelligent to say. Maybe, ‘sorry’? Or, ‘who are you?’. But all you can focus on is your heartbeat pounding in your ears, the pleasant, spicy smell of his cologne, and the imminent possibility of unemployment. When you feel composed enough to peek between your fingers, you find him staring at you again, chin propped up on his palm, an amused glint in his eyes.

“Are you a little calmer now?” You manage a nod, and the man gestures to the bench. “Scoot over a bit.”

Your conscious mind barely registers his request, but you do as he bid on instinct. When he sits down next to you, the soft leather of his jacket brushes against your arm. There’s barely enough room for the two of you, and you curl in on yourself a bit until he taps your shoulder. “You can relax. I won’t bite. And I won’t tell Luke about your little solo act.”

You raise your head so you can look him in the eyes. “Really?”

“It wouldn’t matter if I did, though.” The man says, absently running his fingers over the keys. “The person with final say on hiring and firing is the owner.”

You blink. “But Luke, isn’t he—?”

“He’s been kind enough to watch over this place for me while I’m indisposed.” As if to accentuate his words, the man plays a light little arpeggio.

“Do you own other businesses, Mister, um—”

“Sylus,” he offers you a handshake, and you take it, still a little hesitant. But you give him your own name. “To your question, I guess you could say I have my fingers in a variety of pots in Linkon CIty. Music just happens to be a fascination of mine.”

“For your mother, too?” The question spills out before you can wonder if he’d find it rude.

Sylus looks a bit taken aback, but his expression clouds with something you haven’t seen from him before. Fondness. You find yourself marveling at the way the emotion softens the intensity of his features. “She did love music. Jazz in particular. She would have been a great pianist herself, in different circumstances.”

This time, you know better than to pry. “I’m sorry for touching something of hers without asking. It’s a beautiful instrument, and I’m sure it means a lot to you.”

A low laugh rumbles in his chest, and you feel a twinge of warmth at such a lovely sound. “Quite alright. But, if I may ask, what spurred you to play that song in particular?”

You cross your hands in your lap, humming in thought. “Well, ‘Crow’s Lullaby’ was on one of the records my granny used to play all the time at the house. She loved to twirl around as she cooked or cleaned, singing her heart out into a ladle or a hairbrush. She was tone-deaf, but my brother and I still loved to dance and cheer her on. When I was a little older, she brought home a spinet from the antique shop, and that was the first song I learned to play on it. She… cried when I sang it for her.” Feeling a little misty, you swallow thickly, wiping at the corners of your eyes and forcing a smile. “Anyway, I guess it’s what I think of first when I get a chance to perform.”

“I see. She must’ve been a great inspiration to you. A prime reason you want to be a professional.”

Your spine goes rigid at his spot-on observation. Holding back a sheepish smile, you fiddle with a stray strand of your hair. “Am I so obvious that you can smell my desperation?”

“That’s not how I’d put it,” Sylus’ crimson eyes linger on you a moment, and you fight the urge to squirm under his scrutiny. “I noticed because you carry yourself like a performer. When you sing, I sense not only raw talent, but years of practice that make those notes seem effortless.”

His straightforward praise leaves you speechless for a moment, your heart rendered gooey as melted chocolate. “Th-Thank you. You’re too kind.”

“No, just observant,” Sylus asserts. “That, and Luke complained to me a few months ago about an audacious, unproven girl looking for a singing gig at my club.” Your blush returns full force, as does Sylus’ smirk. “Does your grandmother know you’re working here?”

You shake your head, gaze falling to your lap. “She, um, passed away a few months ago.”

“Ah… My condolences.”

The conversation lulls. As the silence stretches on, a strange, fluttering urgency takes hold of you. A desire to maintain whatever tenuous connection you have to this man. “D-Do you play the piano, Sylus? Or sing?”

“I do play a little,” Sylus’ lips curve upward. “As for singing, it’s one of my greatest loves. Unfortunately, I’ve been informed that I’m a little… tone-deaf. That’s actually the story behind the club’s name—a bit of a self-effacing joke.”

“Huh. Somehow, that’s hard to believe.”

“What makes you say that, kitten? Teasing me for my faults?”

“Not at all. I just thought that with a voice like yours, you could enthrall anyone with a song.”

“’Enthrall’ them…? What an interesting choice of words. They bring to mind sirens at sea.” Sylus’ eyes twinkle with mirth, and you’re one more embarrassment away from bolting into the rain. I can’t believe I just said that.

You turn away, squeezing your eyes shut. “S-Sorry, that’s, um… I meant—”

“So quick to cower,” Sylus muses, his fingers gently guiding your face toward his, “but you shouldn’t apologize.” Your eyes meet his again, and it’s not just his voice that enraptures you. “I could only ever feel flattered by such praise, delivered straight from a siren’s lips.”

His words are a spell, a honeyed incantation that robs you of all your sense. Your lashes flutter, red lips parted slightly as if a kiss is a forgone conclusion. There’s no doubt in your mind that if anyone here is a siren, it’s Sylus. Your fingers trace his forearm before clutching the fabric of his sleeve. Your breaths mingle, your eyelids fall closed in anticipation, and then—

“This damn weather! I swear I’m going to—” The two of you jolt apart at the sound of Luke’s loud, disgruntled voice. When the man catches sight of you sitting at the piano, his nostrils flare, eyes bulging in disbelief. “What in Astra’s name are you doing over there? How many times do I have to tell you, brat? Lemme see those thumbs—"

“Luke,” Sylus’ chides, but his tone is placid, without a hint of the regret or unease that leaves you silent and paralyzed, “I told her it was alright.”

Luke scrunches his brow and scoffs. “That’s rich, Boss, considering all the times you’ve threatened my life over that old thing. ‘Luke, if there’s so much as a smudge on that piano, I swear I’ll rip off your di—‘”

“Don’t be so dramatic.” Sylus rolls his eyes. “I merely told you to be careful, and you have been. Besides, this one bent the rules in service of a greater good. Now, Luke, break out our best bottle of gin. I believe a celebration is in order.”

Your eyes go wide. There are many speakeasies around the city—hell, you’ve been to a fair few—but alcohol is illegal, and it’s unusual to discuss it so brazenly. “A celebration…?”

“Why, yes,” Sylus winks. He offers you a hand, helping you stand up from the bench before he leans down to kiss your knuckles. “In honor of your new job.”

[lizzisimss]

Gonzales Family Home

CC used (list below) Garden Essence in Willow Creek 40 x 30 8 bed, 3 bath $276,606

This build is part of the Lizzisimss Save File.

Aira – https://www.patreon.com/airacc

Birdie lamp

Frog incense

Froggy cushion

Ghibli clay 2

Ghibli painting

Heart night lamp

Mushroom plant

Tablet PC

Toast light

Vanilla flower candle

Vanilla recipe book

Woodenland bear holder

ATS4 – https://www.patreon.com/aroundthesims

Kitchenrack condiments

Kitchenrack utsensils

Brazenlotus - https://www.patreon.com/BrazenLotus

The trouble with plants

Whatever you want

Steezy Skis

Heavy Metal Shelf

Clean sweep

Laundry Made Essentials

charly pancakes - https://www.patreon.com/charlypancakes

The Lighthouse Collection merged

Diaper days

Dinna merged

Lavish Merged

M & S Constructions part I merged

Miscellanea Merged

Modish Merged

Munch merged

Smol merged

Soak merged

Tarot posters simblreen treat 1 2020

Felixandre – https://www.patreon.com/felixandre

Fayun part 2 and 2

Georgian set

Gothic revival interior

London exterior

Greellamas – https://www.patreon.com/greenllamas

KERV

house of harlix - https://www.houseofharlix.com

Orjanic

Bafroom

Baysic Bafroom Merged

Baysic Merged

Harluxe Merged

Jardane

Livin’Rum Merged

The Kichen

Tiny Twavellers Merged

harrie - https://www.patreon.com/heyharrie

Brownstone collection complete merged

Brownstone collection part 1 & 2 merged

Brutalist bathroom

Country collection

Octave part 1, 3 and 4 merged

Porto

Shop the look

Spoons part 1

Stockholm

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Blockhouse

Piha

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Citrus Room

KARLSTAD kitchen

leaf motif - https://leaf-motif.tumblr.com

2202 Magnolia Bathroom

Aubrey office

Basil chair

Botanic boudoir

Calliope bathroom

Devon kitchen

Floret grove

Heirloom kitchen

Ivy hallway

Keller bedroom

Little ceramics

Old hat

Simblreen 2021

Starlight crystals

Sunbeam study

Sunny corner

Twee tablewar

Winter village

Patron gift 1, 2, 5 and 7

Lilis-palace – https://www.patreon.com/lilis_palace

Folklore set off the grid

Littlecakes – https://litttlecakes.tumblr.com/downloadspage

Record Player

I want to believe poster

Twinkly lights

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Deligracy merged cottage living update

Countryside cabin merged

Eco kitchen stuff pack merged

Greasy goods merged

Lava lamp merged

Modern rocking chair

Sleek slumber stuff pack merged

Roman holiday merged

Sweet treats merged

Deligracy delicato stuff pack

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Lucky Man Folded Shirts Override

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Kei first aid

Kei plushie

Brizo soap dispenser

Lorens painting

Numi backpack decor

Marvell –https://marvell-world.tumblr.com/download

KC Salt & Pepper

Upcycle books

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Master bedroom

Child dream kit

Classic kitchen

Garden at Home

Poolside lounge

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Back to School Calendar

Bathroom set

Cyber girl

Desk planner

Essential Clutter

Groovy baby

Wiccan set

Mlys – https://mlyssimblr.tumblr.com/cc-catalog

Pufferhead

Computer emook

Computer mookbook

Deco deskop globe

Mycupofcc –

Colour talk dining stuff

Colour talk kitchen merged

Colour talk livingrm merged

Maple manor the modernist collection living rm

August 2021

Tiny dreamers merged

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Garden stories

Nora living

Riikka

The art room

Zephyr office

Arrie office

Daria bedroom

Dawn abstract

Dawn living

Gale dining

Lottie décor

Moonwood garden

Simmify instant camera

Herbalist kitchen

Simmify part 2

Vanity nook

Networksims - https://www.thesimsresource.com/members/networksims

Max brick floor

Veronique wallpaper

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Artist’s old workroom

Kitchen peg board shelf long

peacemaker - https://peacemaker-ic.tumblr.com/TS4O...

Atwood Living

Cozy knits bedding

Creta kitchen

Elsie bedroom

Essa kitchen

Futura merged

Hamptons retreat merged

Hinterlands bedroom

Hinterlands living

Hudson bathroom

Kitayama dining merged

Kitayama living merged

Mid-century eclectic merged

Mina kitchen merged

Moku seating

Phoebe sofa suite

Roarsome kids bedroom merged

Seasons build mode expanded

Strangeville build mod add on

Vara office

Bowed

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Calderone bedroom

MCM part 1, part 2, part 3, part 4 and part 5 merged

Oakhouse part 1, 2, 3, 4, 5 merged

The office mini kit

Tidying up

Auntie vera bathroom merged

Coldbrew coffeeshop

Domaine du clos part 1, part 2, part 3, part 4 merged

Living room mini kit

Winter garden part 2

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8 pack holiday penguin

19 pack cute cookies

RVSN – https://ravasheen.com/downloads/

Art attack

Smarts content

simplisticsims - http://simplisticsims4.com

Art van gogh

Chinoiserie round rug

Cottage roman curtain

Crafter shelf

RH bottom bunk

RHshadeB

RHshadeC

RH wall art square DH

Round jute rugs

Rustic rug

Taisho merged all

Vintage country art llb

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Breeze of Greece

Oak&Concrete Kit merged

Artiu

Artz

Home basics

Home Improvement

Home office

Hotel bedroom

Kids room

Luxbath

Retro vibes

Small Spaces

Teen Room

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Iconic album art

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KoT Build Floor Lino V4

Fallout baby

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Bonbon

Galileo

Julie

Laundry

Nathalie

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Cassandra Bathroom

Dina Dining Room

Eliza Walk In Closet

Elsa Kids Room

Jade Build

Lilith Chilling Areas p1 merged

Clutter Cat - https://www.tumblr.com/blog/view/thec...

Busy bee 2

Busy bee

Cozy cocina

KawaiiKidz

MellowMini

MellowMoods

PetitsPirates

Xfest22

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2nd wave mergedpat

Beam parte2 v01 mergd

Cross merged

Ema dining room v02 merged

Wave merged

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Apartment therapy inspired stuff v2 merged

Blooming rooms plants merged

Tray files are available on my Patreon: https://www.patreon.com/lizzisimss

Please consider supporting if you wish :)

[likecastle]

OK, this one's for @bus-ghoul, who said, "Robin and Nancy for whatever reason shop at the mall (that somehow didn’t burn down)." Thanks for this prompt! I love a girl-world shopping trip! I didn't wind up setting this at Starcourt, but there is shopping at the mall, so hopefully that works! I also, once again, made this kinda angsty. Whoops! All Feelings! No serious warnings on this one, though.

“Are you sure you girls don’t want me to drive you?” Nancy’s mom asks fretfully.

“Yes, Mom,” Nancy says, not for the first time. Somehow, Nancy’s impending departure for college has activated her mom’s protective streak way more than any of the nightmarish events of the past few years ever have. Nancy figures her going away to college probably feels real to her mom in a way that psychic children and extra-dimensional sinkholes never did.

“We’ll be fine, Mrs. Wheeler,” Robin pipes up, from where she’s standing by the passenger side door, just waiting to get in. “I promise. It’s not even an hour’s drive.”

Nancy’s mom still looks torn, but finally she sighs and takes a twenty dollar bill from her purse. “Why don't you get yourselves a nice lunch while you’re out shopping.”

Over the roof of the car, Nancy sees Robin’s eyes widen. And sure enough, once they’re finally on the road and Robin has finished fiddling with the radio, she says, “What does your mom think we're going to get for lunch? Caviar and champagne at Hotdog on a Stick?”

Nancy shakes her head, as if it’ll help her shake off her mom’s worry. “She just wants us to have a good time,” she says, feeling defensive now, even though she was irritated at her only a few minutes ago.

“I’m pretty sure it’s scientifically impossible to have a good time shopping for twin XL sheets and shower flip-flops.”

“Do you want me to drop you off at home?” Nancy threatens, without much heat. “Because I can still turn around.”

To their mutual surprise, they do actually have a good time. College Mall is doesn’t have quite the same selection as Starcourt did, but it’s also not backed by nefarious Russians. It shouldn’t be fun, shopping with someone who has objectively terrible taste, and who thinks Nancy has awful taste in turn, but it is.

“Seriously, Wheeler?” Robin asks, when Nancy picks up a perfectly nice set of sheets with pale pink roses on them.

“What? What’s wrong with these?”

Robin laughs. “Nothing, if you’re Laura Ashley!”

“Well," she says indignantly, "which ones would you pick?”

Robin gets a devilish look in her eye and leads Nancy across the bedding section, weaving between the displays. “Just look at these beauties!” she says, doing jazz hands in the direction of a set of sheets in an eye-searing geometric pattern, every angle somehow in startling disharmony with the next. Nancy actually feels a little dizzy looking at the fabric, something she hadn’t previously thought was even possible.

“They’re hideous,” Nancy says.

“I know,” Robin says, with barely-restrained glee. She holds the package up for Nancy to take a closer look, which only makes the design worse. “Isn’t it great?! It’s like someone vomited non-Euclidean geometry all over your bed. Imagine if a—if someone brought you back to their dorm and you start making out only to find that under their comforter. Instant hilarity.”

Nancy blinks at the mental image. “I guess it would be sort of a mood killer,” she admits, though her dating history’s been marred by some pretty lamentable bedroom décor, and that never stopped her.

Robin nods sagely. “Good for weeding out the faint of heart.”

“You should get them,” Nancy says firmly, though she doesn’t think the sheets are any less ugly now than she did a minute ago. But they make Robin laugh, and it's nice to see her toothy, sidelong grin.

Robin shrugs, setting the package of sheets back down on the shelf. “I’ll probably just bring some sheets from home,” she says, her voice carefully casual.

Nancy remembers too late Robin bemoaning the fact that her scholarship to IUB doesn’t cover room and board. It hasn’t escaped her notice that Robin’s got one shopping bag to Nancy’s three.

“D’you want to get some frozen custard?” Nancy asks abruptly. “My mom’s treat.”

“Yes, I absolutely do,” Robin says, with such seriousness that Nancy can’t help but laugh.

Nancy can’t help thinking about it, though, as they make their way to the food court and order their frozen custard, Robin shoving the remainder of the twenty dollars into the tip jar out of sympathy. She can’t help thinking how different their college experiences are going to be—Nancy almost a thousand miles away at Emerson, Robin here in Bloomington, not even an hour away from home. Nancy has a merit scholarship, too, but her parents are paying for everything it doesn’t cover without batting an eye, while Robin’s been talking about getting a part-time job on top of her work-study. Nancy’s not even sure when Robin will find time to take someone back to her dorm to make out.

That hasn’t escaped her notice, either, the little pronoun game Robin plays sometimes—when she talks about dating at all. Nancy’s never asked outright, because she’s afraid to shatter the tenuous friendship that’s developed between them since spring break. But between her vehement insistence that she and Steve are just friends and the way she looked at Susan Sarandon in The Hunger that one time they all tried to do movie night, Nancy’s reasonably certain that the someone Robin would be bringing home would be someone a little like Nancy herself. Probably not just like her. Someone cooler, with edgier taste in music. Someone who wouldn’t pick sheets with dainty little rosebuds on them. Someone with red hair, most likely, if Nancy’s not mistaken. But someone—at least in some particulars—not entirely unlike Nancy.

And Nancy doesn’t really know what to do with the way that knowledge sits inside her, the way she thinks about Robin leaning back on her elbows on her dorm room bed and feels a pang of jealousy for the girl who’ll get to push her down on the worn-soft sheets she brought from home. But it’s a moot point, because even if Robin’s interested in girls, it’s not like she’d attracted to girls like Nancy, and even if she were, in a few weeks they’ll be half a continent apart, and Nancy’s tried the long-distance thing and it didn’t work out great the last time, so what’s the point of even entertaining the possibility?

Even so, as she watches Robin sneak her spoon out to steal a taste of Nancy’s yogurt, she does think about it.

[obiancadenise]

Coffee Project: Where Coffee Meets Art and Inspiration

Infusing the passion for coffee with the aesthetics of art and design, Coffee Project offers an experience unlike any other coffee shop. The instant you walk through the door, you're whisked away to a fantastical realm where imagination and coffee meet. Coffee Project is a carefully managed setting that inspires and uplifts with its lush vegetation, rustic furniture, and charming décor.

The meticulous crafting of Coffee Project is one of its most alluring qualities. There is artwork in every corner and crevice, from the elaborate wallpaper to the captivating light fixtures. It's the kind of place where you can go for a coffee and a chat with a friend or to curl up with a good book in peace and quiet. Coffee Project has a number of different seating arrangements, from intimate nooks to lively community tables, to accommodate its customers.

The coffee is the main attraction of Coffee Project. The café takes pride in its excellent service and the delicious variety of specialty coffees it provides. Every kind of coffee drink imaginable exists, from traditional espresso-based beverages to extravagant and fanciful specialized concoctions. It's impossible to have a bad meal when you pair your coffee with one of their delicious pastries or brunch options.

Coffee Project encourages collaboration and innovation in addition to its aesthetic appeal and tasty beverages. It's a meeting place for creative types, where ideas may flourish and creativity can flourish. Coffee Project is a haven where you may escape the stresses of everyday life and find inspiration in the worlds of art and design while enjoying some of the best coffee around.

So whether you're in need of some motivation, a well brewed cup of coffee, or just a calm and relaxing place to hang out, Coffee Project Cafe is the place to go. It's not just a place to get your caffeine fix; it's an adventure that will leave you feeling refreshed and revitalized from the inside out.

Facebook: Coffee Project Instagram: @coffeeprojectofficial

Disclaimer: All pictures shown are mine and self photograph

[yoosmekihyun]

Conversations in the Dark (pt. 1)

Summary: After a series of major personal events, you decide to move to New York (in part) so you can have a relationship with your newly discovered half-sister, Karen Page. Matt Murdock and Foggy Nelson become additional important figures in your life as you navigate new relationships and figure out how to live your life.

Genre: Fluff, Angst, Smut (eventually), we run the spectrum of emotions here

Warnings: mention of death, grief, anxiety, drinking, pining (so much pining), self-deprecation, chapters with sexual content will be marked with their own warnings, violence or attempted violence (i.e. Daredevil related), more possible warnings in the future

Author’s Note: This is pure wish fulfillment and written for my own joy. I haven’t put out anything in at least five years and this is the first time I’ve written something multi-part. I’m not sure how this will go, how long it will be, or how often I will post/update.

Word Count: 1.9k

Part 1

The remnants of summer still lingered in the warm September afternoon as you stepped out of the cab in front of the coffee shop. Glancing at your watch, you realized you were still a little early but that’s how you preferred it. This would allow you to order your drink and calm your nerves a little before she arrived.

When your turn came at the counter, you took the barista’s suggestion of the monthly special and moved to wait for your drink. Looking around you noticed the little pieces of fall décor another employee was putting up around the shop giving it a cozier vibe. Once the barista called your name, you found a small empty table in a corner that would allow you to watch the door and enjoy the city street chaos through the large window next to you.

This shouldn’t have been as nerve racking as it was but while you had spoken with your half-sister several times over the last year, you hadn’t seen her in person since your father’s funeral a little over a year ago. You prayed this was a good idea. You needed a win after the heaviness you had dealt with over the last few years. You needed some joy and connection, and this seemed like the perfect opportunity but now you were second guessing yourself.

Just as you were beginning to spiral and doubt your decision for the umpteenth time that day, you heard the ding of the door and watched your half-sister, Karen Page, rush in searching for you. The moment she saw you, she broke into a huge smile and hurried over to envelop you in a hug.

“Y/N! I’m so glad you made it safely! I hope you weren’t waiting long; I told Matt and Foggy I needed to leave sooner but they’re drowning in a sea of paperwork for a case, and we lost track of time.”

“Don’t worry about it! I’m usually early and you’re only a couple minutes late. No harm, no foul.” You released her from the hug and in that instant, you knew you had made the right decision. You didn’t realize how much you needed a hug from family until that moment and you felt more settled than you had in weeks.

“Do we need to postpone so you can get back to the office? Are you on a time crunch?” you asked.

“Oh, hell no, we are not postponing! They’ll be fine without me for a little while. I want to caffeinate while I hear about how you’re feeling now that you’re here!”

-X-

Your biological father may have been a world class asshole, but at least he had the decency to tell you and Karen about each other before he died. It was weird growing up as an only child to find out as an adult that you had a sister, especially when you had so desperately wished for one when you were younger. For her part, Karen could have decided she didn’t want a sister, but she welcomed you into her life with open arms. Admittedly, you struggled some, not because you were unhappy to find out about her, but because the news came during one of the worst times of your life.

If you had a terrible biological father, then luckily, you had the most amazing mother you could have asked for. When you and Karen found out about each other, you had just received news that your mother had been diagnosed with cancer for the second time. This time, it was late-stage and had spread with abysmal survival rates. This news alone meant your plate was beyond full. The idea of figuring out how to grieve the parent who didn’t want you while struggling to accept the awful news about your mother was overwhelming. It was nothing to say of the struggles to cultivate a new relationship with your sister under your poorly hidden sorrow, but Karen had been lovely and understanding. She did so much of the early legwork to develop your relationship, checking on you when she knew you were focused on your mother and often reminding you to do basic tasks to take care of yourself.

When your mother passed in the late spring, you were understandably devastated. She had been your sounding board your entire life and, without her, you felt unmoored. Thankfully, Karen had been there. She hadn’t been able to come to the funeral, but she called you every day for the first couple weeks after to make sure you were eating, hydrating, and showering. She listened to your stories and cried with you when the grief threatened to eat you alive.

During a conversation expressing your untethered feelings, Karen raised the idea that led you to the coffee shop in the midst of Hell’s Kitchen.

“Hey, I know you’re not sure what to do but…what if you moved here? Maybe a big change of pace and scenery will help you move forward.”

If you were being honest, moving to New York was an idea you had for a long time. You had applied to Columbia and NYU in your final year of high school but a full ride to a local university secured your undergrad path. Despite this decision, you never let go of the idea of New York. When Karen tentatively suggested the idea, it was like your mother was holding a huge neon sign for you, telling you to get off your ass and GO! A light burst into life within you, and you scrambled to make the arrangements so you could move as soon as possible.

-X-

Once Karen had her coffee and settled into her seat, you relayed some of your travel mishaps and your ideas and loose plans for her input.

“Honestly, I can’t really believe I’m here. It’s all still so surreal. But I’m hoping the apartment hunting will help ground me a little and once I can actually get my things here, it’ll start to sink in.”

“That makes sense. I imagine it’ll feel more like a vacation until you have your things around you. I’m so glad you’re here to experience fall in New York! I think you’ll love it,” Karen gushed, beaming at you.

As you grinned at Karen, you felt a peace and a warmth spread in your chest that you hadn’t felt since before your mom passed. You reached across the table and grasped her hand. “Thank you, Karen, for everything. I don’t know what I would have done without you this last year. I’m so grateful you’re my sister.”

Karen’s eyes started to well up as she gripped your hand in return, “I’m grateful you’re my sister too.”

Shocking you both out of the moment, Karen’s phone buzzed, and she rolled her eyes once she saw the caller ID. “I’m so sorry, Y/N. He knows I’m with you so I’m not sure why Foggy’s calling.” You waved her to answer it, unbothered by the interruption as it gave you a moment to reign in your emotions a little more. You didn’t need to start sobbing in the middle of a coffee shop; you’d have your bigger emotions in private later.

You took a sip of your coffee as you heard Karen’s exasperated tone, “Yes Foggy I know it’s a big deal. YES, I know we need the revenue. Okay, okay but you both know why I took an extended break and who I’m with…Seriously?? Now? Ugh, fine. You both owe me AND Y/N for interrupting.”

Karen sighed as she ended the call and looked at you apologetically. Before she could even say anything, you started, “Let me guess, they need you back ASAP because they don’t know how to function without you?”

She chuckled and confirmed, “Basically. He also asked me to bring back coffee. They’re losing steam fast. If you’re not too tired, do you want to walk back with me? You can meet them, so you know who to look for when we get drinks at Josie’s tonight!”

“Wait, what’s Josie’s?”

“It’s this local dive bar that Matt and Foggy love and they want to welcome you to the city! We planned on going tonight if you felt up to it, but we can do another night or somewhere else if that works better for you?”

You could tell Karen was a little nervous. Whether it was encouraging you to meet her co-workers and friends so quickly or having you go drinking your first night in an unfamiliar city, you didn’t know but you wanted to start living your life, not hide away in a hotel room.

“That all sounds great! I love a good dive bar, sounds like my kind of place.”

Fresh coffees in hand, you and Karen made your way back to her office making small talk about the neighborhood and places to consider when you went apartment hunting the following day with a recommended broker. You wanted to be near Karen, not necessarily in her building, but within walking distance so it would be easy to see each other when you wanted.

You nearly missed the sign “Nelson, Murdock, and Page” until Karen directed you to the door next to it. Once you made it to the interior door, you could hear the loud voices before Karen opened the office door.

“I come bearing caffeine. If you want it, stop arguing and get out here so you can meet my sister!”

You heard chairs scraping right before you saw a tall, blonde man with a huge smile step out of a side room. Holding out his hand for you to shake he said, “Hi! I’m Franklin Nelson but you can call me Foggy.”

Unable to hold back your grin, you took his hand for a quick shake and replied “Nice to meet you, I’m Y/F/N Y/L/N.”

The sheer happiness and light that shone out of Foggy reminded you of your mother. You knew this man was going to be your friend, come hell or highwater.

Behind Foggy you could hear a shuffling sound and you peered around him. Once you saw the other man, you nearly forgot to breathe. Your heart stuttered in your chest as you gazed at easily the most beautiful man you had ever seen in person. Like Foggy, he had his sleeves rolled up to just under the elbow and the top button of his shirt was undone along with a loosened tie. His red reflective glasses did nothing to distract from the sharp jawline and days-old stubble. His dark hair was slightly mussed, as if he had recently been running a hand through it. As beautiful as he was standing before you, you were most distracted by his mouth. It was lush and soft while still looking deliciously male and it was quirked up on one side like he was in on some kind of joke you had missed.

Loudly, someone cleared their throat and shook you out of your stare. You realized you had missed something as Karen looked at you with a raised eyebrow and a smirk and Foggy was shaking his head while rolling his eyes.

You gave a little embarrassed chuckle as your cheeks flushed, “Um, sorry, what did I miss? I’m a little out of it, all the excitement and travel today.”

The beautiful man gave a full smile and you nearly stopped breathing again. He stepped forward and with one hand extended, he repeated,

“It’s nice to meet you, Y/N. I’m Matt Murdock.”

Copyright © 2023 by yoosmekihyun. All rights reserved.

[cherrygirlystuff]

How to Host the Perfect Indie Sleaze Revival Party: From Playlist to Outfit

Ready to Host the Perfect Indie Sleaze Revival Party?

Hey babe! 🌟 Have you been dreaming of throwing the ultimate indie sleaze revival party? You know, the kind where everyone’s dancing like it’s 2008, surrounded by nostalgic vibes, killer outfits, and the perfect playlist? Well, you’re in luck because I’ve got you covered with a step-by-step guide to bringing back those chaotic, carefree house party vibes. From the right music to the ideal décor, here’s everything you need to host a party that’ll make your friends feel like they’ve stepped back in time (in the best way possible). Let’s dive in! 🎉🖤

Step 1: Curate the Ultimate Indie Sleaze Playlist 🎸

No indie sleaze revival party is complete without the perfect playlist. The music sets the tone for the entire night, so it’s gotta be on point. Here’s how to put together a playlist that’ll get everyone in the mood to dance, sing, and maybe even start a mosh pit (okay, maybe not, but you get the idea).

1.1. The Classics: Start with the Essentials 🎧

You can’t have an indie sleaze party without the anthems that defined the era. Think of tracks from the likes of MGMT, The Strokes, Yeah Yeah Yeahs, and Arctic Monkeys. These songs are non-negotiable—they’re the backbone of your playlist.

"Electric Feel" by MGMT: This song is a must for setting the perfect party vibe.

"Last Nite" by The Strokes: Instant crowd-pleaser, guaranteed to get everyone singing along.

"Heads Will Roll" by Yeah Yeah Yeahs: The ultimate indie sleaze dance track.

1.2. Hidden Gems: Mix in Some Deep Cuts 💽

Sprinkle in some lesser-known tracks to keep the playlist fresh and exciting. These are the songs that true indie fans will appreciate, and they’ll add an extra layer of authenticity to your party.

"Paper Planes" by M.I.A.: Not exactly a deep cut, but it’s a track that brings a bit of edge and rebellion to the mix.

"Gold Lion" by Yeah Yeah Yeahs: A killer track that’s perfect for transitioning between dance breaks.

"Oxford Comma" by Vampire Weekend: Quirky and fun, this one will have everyone bopping along.

1.3. Modern Indie: Add Some New Vibes 🎤

Throw in a few tracks from today’s indie artists who are channeling that early 2000s energy. It’ll keep your playlist feeling fresh while still maintaining that nostalgic vibe.

"Want You Back" by Haim: Modern indie with a retro vibe, perfect for the dance floor.

"Bags" by Clairo: A slower track for when you want to give everyone a breather.

"The Less I Know The Better" by Tame Impala: Newer, but with a sound that fits right into your indie sleaze playlist.

Step 2: Nail the Indie Sleaze Décor 🖤

Now that your playlist is sorted, let’s talk décor. The indie sleaze aesthetic is all about grunge, chaos, and a little bit of glam. Here’s how to transform your space into the ultimate party venue.

2.1. Lighting: Dim, Moody, and Mysterious 💡

Forget bright, overhead lights—indie sleaze is all about creating a moody, intimate atmosphere.

Fairy Lights and String Lights: Hang them everywhere—around mirrors, along walls, over furniture. They add a cozy, grungy vibe.

Lava Lamps and Neon Signs: These add that perfect retro touch and a bit of color to your space.

Candles: Scatter them around the room (safely!) for a flickering, mysterious vibe. Bonus points if you use black or deep red candles for extra drama.

2.2. DIY Décor: Embrace the Messy, Eclectic Look 🎨

Indie sleaze décor isn’t about perfection—it’s about throwing together a mix of styles and letting it all come together in a way that feels effortlessly cool.

Vintage Posters and Band Flyers: Cover your walls with posters of indie bands, old gig flyers, and polaroids. You can even make a collage wall with random magazine cutouts and art prints.

Mismatched Furniture and Rugs: Don’t worry about everything matching. The more eclectic, the better. Throw down a few old rugs, bring out the vintage chairs, and let it all clash in the best way possible.

Record Players and Vinyls: Set up a record player in the corner with a stack of vinyl records. Even if you don’t play them all night, they add to the vibe and make a great conversation starter.

Step 3: Dress the Part—Indie Sleaze Outfits 💁‍♀️

Your outfit sets the tone for the night, so make sure you’re dressed to impress in true indie sleaze style. Think skinny jeans, band tees, vintage finds, and a little bit of glam.

3.1. Classic Indie Sleaze: Keep It Edgy 🖤

For that authentic indie sleaze look, it’s all about mixing grunge with glam.

Skinny Jeans and Band Tees: Start with a pair of tight, distressed skinny jeans and your favorite band tee. Bonus points if it’s a bit faded or oversized.

Leather Jackets and Denim Vests: Layer up with a leather jacket or a worn-in denim vest. These are indie sleaze staples that instantly elevate your look.

Chunky Boots or Converse: Complete the outfit with a pair of chunky combat boots or classic Converse. Scuffed-up is totally fine—it adds to the charm.

3.2. Glitz and Glam: Add Some Sparkle ✨

Indie sleaze isn’t just about grunge—it’s about mixing in some unexpected glam elements too.

Sequined Tops and Shiny Accessories: Throw on a sequined crop top or a metallic skirt for a touch of sparkle. Pair it with a statement necklace or chunky jewelry to make your outfit pop.

Messy Hair and Bold Makeup: Keep your hair tousled and a bit messy. For makeup, go for a smudged smoky eye, bold eyeliner, and a dark lip. It’s all about that effortlessly cool, slightly disheveled look.

3.3. Final Touches: The Indie Sleaze Attitude 😎

The most important part of your outfit? Your attitude. Indie sleaze is all about being confident, carefree, and just a little bit rebellious. So throw on your outfit, crank up the tunes, and own the night!

Step 4: Party Like It’s 2008—Let Loose and Have Fun! 🎉

You’ve got the playlist, the décor, and the outfit—all that’s left is to have the best time ever. Here are a few tips to keep the party going all night:

Create a Dance Floor: Clear out some space and let your guests dance their hearts out. With the right music and atmosphere, it won’t take long for everyone to start moving.

Polaroids and Disposable Cameras: Hand out disposable cameras or set up a polaroid station. The grainy, candid photos will capture the night perfectly and give everyone something to take home.

Signature Drinks: Whip up a few indie-inspired cocktails or mocktails. Think classic drinks with a twist—like a grungy take on a cosmopolitan or a neon-hued punch.

Final Thoughts, Gorgeous: Your Indie Sleaze Revival Awaits 🌟

And there you have it, babe! Your ultimate guide to throwing the perfect indie sleaze revival party. From the playlist to the outfit, you’ve got everything you need to create a night filled with nostalgia, great vibes, and unforgettable memories. So send out those invites, start planning, and get ready to party like it’s the early 2000s all over again!

What’s your go-to track for an indie sleaze party? Drop your faves in the comments—I’m always looking to add more tunes to my playlist! 💕