#Luna Trim

[catboytenya]

i cleaned butterbean's tank 🙏 it took me way longer than i'd have liked to get up to clean it, but now he's in a nice clean tank and i'm sure it must feel so much better for him now

[t4tails]

my current bratz and omg dollies since the tweevils and bubblegum arrived :)

[britishraptor]

Pruning back plants, tears dripping from my eyes:

Snip

I’m sorry I’m sorry I’m sorry

Snip

It’s for your own good I promise

Snip

Aaaaaaaa

[monkeymeghan]

I just got home from the vet with Luna. She had her final booster shot and a nail trim. And she’s gone from 4.6 to 5.8 pounds! My little baby is growing. Now she has moved up to the next dose of flea prevention (the dose she was on only went up to 5.5 pounds), so I got some while I was there. So now she’s all set until her annual checkup next year.

[goldstappen]

Because I'm spiraling right now, here's your reminder to spay your cats as soon as possible. If anyone from SE Michigan is reading this and needs resources for low cost sterilization please message me.

[what-the-fuck-khr]

ohhh Luna is going to take potentially up to 2 hours, but they’ll call us when she’s ready to be picked up so we’re goin’ home 👍🏻

[bebemoon]

look for the name TRIUMPHANT (requested by anonymous) | selkie "the blush caribbean" cotton and lace-trimmed puff-sleeve dress w/ front drawstring for bustling (note: with preference for a dark blue or maybe a pale gold to fit this name well), alice auaa brown leather over-the-knee boots, my dearest world "luna" ribbon choker, baodicea the victorious "heroine" eau de parfum (bergamot, orange, violet, jasmine, rose, vetiver, musk, orris, vanilla), ayajewellery (on etsy) dainty crystal circlet headband

[cherryslyce]

Second Son (XIV) | Regulus Black

Series Synopsis: Forbidden from contacting Harry over the summer, you opt to explore the eerie halls of Grimmauld Place where you stumble upon a lonely portrait of the House's second son.

— Chapter Synopsis: Y/N joins Contessa Zabini for tea. Luna and Y/N make way to Reine, Norway. Y/N remembers something important about Regulus.

Part XIII / Part XV / Series Masterlist

Pairing: Regulus Black x GN!Reader

Notes: The Zabini's and Baroque architecture just makes sense to me. Also uhhh have fun <3.

The cranberry tinted cup that sat in front of you made your tea flush like diluted blood, the glass flared at the rims to resemble a blossom, imposing on the matching saucer that you couldn’t draw your eyes away from. 

Luna sat perfectly quaint to your left, eyes running across the opulent clusters of furniture that accessorized the already extravagant room. Intricate carvings lined cream pillars that pinched the rounded windows in front of you, each imposing structure veiled by heavy blush curtains. The wooden table in front of you was polished spotlessly, matching the ornate chair that sat sturdy underneath your rigid body. On the opposite wall, you’re suddenly aware of the colossal gold-trimmed mirror that was no doubt reflecting your squared shoulders. 

Blaise was living in a baroque daydream. Damn him. 

Your tongue was doing a funny thing, tipping between sensitivity and leathery roughness. That would be of your own doing, having immediately drawn your lips to the scalding tea in an effort to diffuse the tension in your shoulders. Despite the abrupt burn, you had held in the sputtering that twisted in your throat in order to maintain some semblance of decorum. 

The silence was becoming unnerving and you could tell that Blaise agreed, the usually composed slytherin was twitching to twist his rings for the nth time. Unexpectedly, when you all had arrived at the Zabini Manor, you were met with a rather unimpressed Theodore Nott. Blaise had quietly whispered that the boy was well-liked by his mother and was often a guest at their manor. 

It felt like you and Luna had become prey trapped in a den full of beguiling predators. The Contessa sat across from you with Blaise to her right, the woman not even batting an eye when Theodore chose to round the table and sit next to you instead. 

Easy access to attack you or was he also intimidated by the elegant woman?

“So you were at a wedding, dear?” The Contessa’s voice was smothered in a richness that complemented her unflinching gaze. 

Clearing your throat lightly, you lean forward to meet her keen eyes, “Yes.” Your tone was mellow–formal, and the lack of embellishing in your answer seemed to both amuse and vex her. 

Not giving up so easily, the woman stirs her tea without breaking eye contact, “I see, and you were both making a quick trip to Diagon Alley afterwards?” The question would have seemed innocent if it were coming from anybody else (perhaps with the exception of Voldemort), but you could practically see the gears in her head turning. 

“A little disruption ruined our appetite for celebration.”

The woman raises a perfectly trimmed eyebrow at you, “Oh? What’s a wedding without a little family drama?” 

You felt like someone had taken a bludger and scrambled your brains with it, high society was truly not for the weak to stomach. You weren’t even sure if the Contessa was teasing you or trying to prod for information. 

It was likely the latter, and the thought made your stomach twist a little. Your exchange of letters had always been polite, borderlining strained pleasantries that involved Hogwarts classes, your research, and plans to meet up (that you were hoping to never attend). 

“Family drama would have been preferable, I’m afraid,” Your tone lifted ever so slightly, but the small smile pulling at your lips hid how irritated you were becoming with the tango of words. 

You shoot Blaise a small glance and see him watching you both with an unreadable expression, though his intense eyes unnerved you a bit. Like mother, like son.

The Contessa’s lips purse thinly and you get the impression that she is also becoming increasingly irate with your resolution, but then her face settles into a sharp grin.

Humming lowly, she tilts her head to assess you before speaking, “You impress me, my dear. It would seem that Blaise is getting better at picking his companions,” You see her shoot a small approving glance at Theodore, who merely sips his tea nonchalantly, “Theodore, Y/N – I hope you both will continue to look out for Blaise. We Zabini’s pride ourselves in our unflinching loyalty and we always return what is given to us threefold.” 

Chancing a peek at the boy next to you, you see Theodore meet your eyes evenly. Your move. 

Nodding at the dignified woman, you smile genuinely for the first time that evening, “It would be my honor, Contessa Zabini. However, my devotion to Blaise would have continued without question, he is quite-” you raise your eyebrow at the boy, “-fascinating, after all.” 

By fascinating, I mean half as scary as you and ten times more approachable. His wicked sense of humor is also a plus.  

Blaise narrows his eyes goodheartedly and drops a sugar cube into his cooled tea, “Thanks.” The dry response has Theodore hiding a small smirk in his tea cup, while the Contessa merely shoots an unimpressed look at her son’s sickly concoction. 

“Indeed, you are quite personable, Y/N. I can’t help but wonder though, what is your stance on the current political climate? It would be ever so insightful for me.” The woman smoothly questions, the calculative glint in her eyes flashing under the chandelier lights. 

Translation: Are you going to induct my son into Voldemort’s goonies or Dumbledore’s sycophants?

Stirring your tea absentmindedly, you decide to answer honestly, “I have my own motivations that don’t exactly align with the polarized ideologies of our sphere. Of course, I have a preference for who I wish to see come out on top, but either way, my own interests outweigh my desire to participate in politics.” 

Your answer seems to catch everybody off guard (except for Luna who smiles like she’s known all along), and you see consideration paint the Contessa’s face, “Interesting. Blaise has indicated that you are quite close with Harry Potter, yet you declare neutrality?” 

“Neutrality for as long as my interests continue to hold my attention, but I hold no ounce of admiration for the Dark Lord or his underlings.” You hesitate to continue, feeling shifty with how easily your words were spilling out. 

Blaise seems to grasp onto your words and leans forwards to prod you, “But?” 

“But, I do not think that certain knowledge and teachings should be tabooed.” 

Theodore speaks up for the first time to confirm what you were insinuating, “The Dark Arts.” 

You nod and lift up your tea cup, sipping carefully despite how tasteless it was due to your burns. 

“And these interests of yours, do they involve the Dark Arts?” The Contessa swipes a manicured nail around the handle of her cup, eyes no longer shrewd. 

Biting the inside of your cheek, you lean back before answering lightly, “They might. I cannot say for certainty that they do. However, it does involve unusual magic.” 

“I see. It makes sense now why you asked to see those Norwegian tomes.” The woman’s eyes are alight, a glow that made it seem as though an investment of hers bloomed to fruition beautifully. 

You shuddered imperceptibly. Was it an honor or an omen that she seemed so intrigued by you? 

Theodore perks up and he turns to you with wide eyes, “Norwegian tomes?” 

The boy’s eagerness for knowledge was palpable, and you couldn’t help but be amused by his antics. It was so familiar because you saw it often in Regulus. 

Regulus. You winced. You wouldn’t think about it anymore. 

“Yes,” Turning to face the Contessa, you weigh your options, “If I may, I was wondering if I could borrow an owl for a letter. I want to inform my other friends of my plans going forward.” 

Blaise raises his eyebrows and frowns, “Plans? Are you not meeting up with them soon?” 

“Actually, I-” Luna turns to you with determined eyes at your slip up, “-we are heading North.” 

“North?” Blaise looks exceedingly unimpressed and you knew you wouldn’t be going anywhere until you satiated his curiosity. 

“Yes, up North.” 

“Where up North, pray tell?” He drawls with crossed arms. 

“Norway. We’re going to Norway.” Your tone was flat, eyes conveying your exasperation. 

Blaise sputters indignantly and barely restrains himself from throwing his hands up, “Norway? We have school in two weeks! How long are you planning to be there for?” 

“Indefinitely. It’s for my personal research.” 

“Well, I’m coming with you.” Blaise’s declaration has you darting your eyes to the Contessa with bated breath, watching the woman cross her arms. 

“Absolutely not. You have school, caro.” Blaise frowns deeply at his mother’s refusal and sits back in his seat, shoulders sagging in defeat, unwilling to argue with her. Theodore looks at you like you’ve grown a second head, likely considering if he would be able to leave school early too with the excuse of sabbatical. 

The Contessa turns to you, ignoring her son’s fit, “Of course, I’ll have one of my house elfs fetch you some parchment and ink. I’m sure Blaise wouldn’t mind if you borrowed his owl,” The woman suddenly rises from her seat and shoots you all a pleasant smile before smoothing out her dress, “This evening has been quite insightful. I look forward to our next meeting, Y/N. Safe journeys, don’t be a stranger.” 

Without waiting for a response, the woman spins on her heel and struts towards the double doors, calling for an elf as she crosses the threshold, “Viren, bring some parchment and ink for my guests.” The door clicks shut behind her as her last words reach your ears, and you slump in your seat as exhaustion soars through your veins. 

Before a disgruntled Blaise or an eager Theodore – the bloody ravenclaw in snake skin, can get a word out, a light pop draws your attention towards a rather properly dressed house elf, parchment and writing supplies in tow. 

Luna is quick to gather the supplies and quietly thank the elf, smoothing out the parchment in front of you. 

“I still want to go with you.” Blaise’s voice is soft, and you’re unable to detect any irritation. 

Peering up from your writing, you smile lightly at the two boys, “Sorry. You two need to hold down the fort. I didn’t say anything earlier, but the Ministry has been infiltrated by Voldemort and his followers, that’s why we left the wedding in such a hurry. Scrimgeour is dead as well,” You heave a sigh and flick the quill casually, “I suspect Hogwarts is going to be overtaken next, and Harry and I wouldn’t be caught dead there this year, we’d be like little crup puppies in a ball pit.” 

Both slytherins look stumped by your straightforwardness, and Blaise huffs out a little ‘well shit’ that has you nodding. 

Theodore stares deeply into the translucent pool of tea in his cup, voice barely above a whisper, “The war is going to end soon.” 

“Yes, and Harry’s going to make sure Voldemort is damned all the way into the afterlife.” If either of the boys were unconvinced by your conviction, they didn’t let it show, opting to share a look of understanding with each other before turning to you and nodding lightly. 

Blaise rounds the table and drops his hands onto your shoulders, “You better not die. And I guess I can take care of our ward for the time being.” 

“Ward?” Theodore sounds (rightfully) perplexed by his best friend’s words. 

“Little Draconis,” you supply, much to Theodore’s bewilderment, “And Blaise, stop making it sound like we’ve adopted him!” 

You wave your friend off and finish up your letter, leaning back in satisfaction as you hear Blaise clamber away to fetch his owl. 

Prongslet (and co), 

Luna and I are going to redeem our meal tickets (not as bizarre of a gift as one may think). We may not be back before darkness falls. Tell the old menace I said hello, and that I will make good on my promise to him. Stay safe and stay together. 

- Someone’s beloved Birdie 

Norway was incomparably arctic to Britain, the frigid winds bit at the tips of your fingers with fervid rushes, and you were positive that your legs were now flesh icicles. Despite how ardently your body protested against the climate, you couldn’t help the serene smile that mapped the muscles of your face. The chill was not the only difference the region had over Britain, and its tranquility was almost foreign to you. 

Now more than ever, Wizarding Britain seemed to have a miasma of doom looming over the country and the change of pace was almost tangible. 

“Here we are,” Luna’s airy voice was a welcomed sound amidst your inner exultation. You couldn’t help but draw similarities between the mysticality of Luna’s magic and disposition, and the blankets of fog that permeated over the lake in the far distance. 

Both were curious in their own aspects, but you couldn’t help but want to melt deeper in the feeling they both surrounded you with. 

You pulled your overcoat tighter around your body, thanking Merlin and those above that Blaise practically tore his closet right to left to find suitable clothing for you and Luna before you both departed from Zabini Manor. 

Stepping closer to Luna, you hum as you observe the view in the distance, “It’s beautiful.” 

Reine was truly idyllic. The fishing village was cupped by snowy peaks that towered over the clots of buildings which mottled the shores of the lake – a place truly untouched by the withering fog of petulant human conflict. 

The apparition was quite tiring and you could feel fatigue coiling around your muscles, urging you to quickly seek refuge.

“Couldn’t have picked a better place really: picturesque, remote, and lauded for proficiency in multiple languages.” Your words are light and playful, spurning a grin to bloom on Luna’s face. 

Dumbledore practically handed you a bubble-wrapped opportunity served on a golden platter. 

The both of you begin to trek towards the village, not wanting to risk apparition in case you were seen by any locals. To your knowledge, this Anders Fiske was the only magical folk in Reine, holing himself away from densely populated regions for reasons only Merlin knows. 

As you approach the banks of the waters and the largest building amongst the cluster, you inhale shakily as you see a sinewy man exit the building. The man seems to pause and do a double take, fully turning when he realized that you weren’t a figment of his imagination. 

“Hello,” His voice is gruff and gratingly neutral, only weakening your resolve. 

Talking to people was hard. But you survived a – conversation? interrogation? with Contessa Zabini, this should be a piece of cake. 

“Hello, we’re looking for someone named Anders Fiske,” your tone is even and you try your best to look as friendly as possible. Luna simply stares off into a red house in the distance, seeming to look straight through the man in front of you. 

Immediately, you can see the man tense before he forcibly relaxes his stance, pinching his eyebrows together as he surveys you, “There is no one here by that name.” 

You would have believed him. If you were a dolt, of course. 

“Are you certain? It’s rather important, and he’s the only one that can help us.” The man doesn’t falter and you frown when you feel something inch towards you. 

Helga almighty. 

He had a magical signature. The man in front of you was clearly a wizard, whether he knew it or not. 

Before you can ruminate on your discovery, the man speaks up, “Yes. So you both should leave.” 

A subtle bone in his body, there was not.

Feeling your eye twitch, you decide to do some searching on your own terms. Releasing your magic, you slowly blanket the surrounding buildings in search for another magical signature. It was clear enough that the man in front of you was not who you were looking for – unless Dumbledore wanted you to have some grilled monkfish with the most conspicuous wizard ever to roam the earth since Godric Gryffindor himself. 

As you continue to scavenge the village with your magic, the man in front of you shifts from side to side, clearly becoming wary of your sudden silence and blank stare. 

Before you can continue, a thunderous slam has you flinching out of your concentration. Peering around the looming man, your eyes meet a guarded gaze. Tilting your head, you sidestep and assess the newcomer, smiling slowly as you realize that he was another wizard. 

The new man was much older and you could see the way he leaned on his right leg as if his left one was aching from the slightest pressure. He was hunched in the pathway of the red house Luna was observing, mouth set into a deep frown. 

“Bingo,” Without waiting for the younger man to say anything (or possibly toss you into the lake), you stroll over toward the older man who was slowly retreating back into his house. 

Luna follows after you and nods happily to herself, starting to skip by your side. 

Stopping a few yards away from the man, you roll your shoulders to ease your soreness before jumping into the golden question, “Are you Anders Fiske?” 

The man appears to be ready to vehemently deny your question, but Luna speaks up before he can even utter a mumble, “Dumbledore sent us!” 

“Dumbledore?” The man’s harsh wrinkles smooth over ever so slightly, and your former headmaster’s name seems to roll off his tongue instinctually. 

“Yes. In his will, he told me that I needed to seek you out for a…meal? I’m in need of your help,” The man seems nonplussed by your declaration, and you purse your lips before sweetening up your words, “Please.” 

You see the man’s eyes flicker behind you and back rapidly, seeming to mull over everything. 

Without a word, the man dips into the shadow of his house with one last glower. 

Excuse me, what?

“Come,” You’re startled out of your stupor by a familiar deep voice, and you can only trail forward, mouth hung open, as the younger man leads you and Luna inside. 

As the younger man closes the door shut behind you, an array of lamps flicker to life around the room, illuminating the perimeter much to your amazement. The room was cozy and frazzled in a similar fashion to the Weasley’s home, and your eyes couldn’t help but trail across a wall of tomes the size of your head. 

“You shouldn’t be here,” The older man – Anders, grumbles from the middle of the room, sat at the dining table with a demeanor you found synonymous with Moody during meetings at Grimmauld Place. 

Smiling coyly, you watch Luna as she wanders almost weightlessly towards the small corner kitchen, “You shouldn’t have revealed yourself, Anders.” 

The man lets out a low grunt and you almost have to physically restrain your eyebrows from floating off your face. This man was literally Moody in a different, older font. 

“You would have figured it out anyway. Could feel that magic of yours suffocating the whole place from in here.” His tone was rough, but you wanted to believe that there was an impressed shine in his eyes. 

The younger man who was (surprisingly) still behind you, decides to interrupt your conversation, “Father, who are these people?” 

Anders places his elbows on the table and gives you and Luna a once-over, “Magical folk.” 

“A threat?” Anders’ son carries an edge to his tone that has you nearly rolling your eyes. 

You were about to blast him through the window, but you couldn’t let this opportunity slip away because of unbridled temptations. 

“That remains to be seen.” 

Anders’ reply seems to placate his son for the time being, and he heads off towards Luna as the girl hunches over to study a chipped teapot on the counter. You shift and make your way to stand in across from Anders, not exactly sure what approach to take. 

The yellow lighting bounced off the man’s face and gave him a sickly complexion, emphasizing his stress lines and suspicious eyes as you drew closer. 

“So, Dumbledore is dead?” He sounded almost regretful. Either that or you knocked your head on the way in. 

“Unfortunately. War is not forgiving, especially to martyrs.” Your tone was not nearly as sad as it probably should have been, but it seemed to be of no trouble for the older wizard. 

Anders sighs and leans back in his seat, one hand coming to clutch his shoulder unconsciously, “The old fool knew what he was getting into,” He raises his eyes to look at you appraisingly, “Can’t imagine why he’d send you my way, anyway.” 

“I’m researching. Something that is unfortunately, extremely niche. Dumbledore said you might be able to enlighten me on the subject.” Your determined tone seems to draw in some interest from him, and you have to mask the victorious feeling that washes over you. 

That’s right, scholar to scholar. Hook, line, and sinker.  

The man waits for you to continue, so you slowly pull out the chair in front of you and sink down across from him, “It’s about magical essences. It seems that you are quite sensitive to magical signatures, seeing as you could sense me releasing my magic earlier,” Anders gives a brisk nod, and you clench your hands as you continue, “A few summers ago, I encountered something strange–special. I found a portrait that was imbued with magical essence, and this portrait, he was extremely sentient.” 

You feel a knot lodge in your throat at the reminder of Regulus, the wound of his destruction feeling painfully raw again. Seeing your sudden hesitance, Anders raises a scruffy white eyebrow, “And where is this portrait now?” 

Your gaze drops to the table, your eyes blazing right into the worn wood, so marred and aged, unlike the one at Zabini Manor. 

“Gone, then? I don’t know how I’m supposed to be of help in that case.” You raise your eyes and meet his cold gaze, clenching your jaw at his stoic expression, “You both can stay the night in the basement, for the sake of doing an old friend a favor. I expect you to be gone by daylight, tomorrow.” 

Without pause, Anders pushes himself off the chair and limps further into the house, leaving you to awkwardly stew in your rejection while his son and Luna linger behind you. 

Anders’ son breaks the tense silence first, “Sorry about him, he’s…” 

“Stubborn?” Luna offers. 

“Honest.” You reply at the same time. 

Whirling around in your seat, you will away the veil of exhaustion and hurt that clouded your mind and look up at Anders’ son, really seeing him for the first time. You see the resemblance between the both of them, from their narrowed eyes to their thin noses, and the unmistakable metallic chill engulfed in both of their magic. 

Slowly rising from your seat, you send a fleeting smile to the boy, “Don’t believe we know your name.” 

“Asger,” His tone is much less taut than before, from pity or understanding, you didn’t know. 

“Nice to meet you, and thanks.” 

The boy–Asger, waves off your thanks and simply juts his shoulder forward, silently telling you to follow him. Feeling all of your survival instincts switch off, you tread behind him with glassy eyes, barely aware of your surroundings even when Luna tucks her arm around your body, guiding you around the unfamiliar environment. 

It appeared that Anders utilized his magical prowess and performed a disappearing act by the time you reached the basement, the older man being nowhere in sight despite the fact that there was only one door in the back of the house–which led to the basement. 

You and Luna got settled in, not bothered by the loose threads of your blankets or the dusty boxes that rested against the walls. You were both given a (surprisingly) comfortable mattress to share, and you almost wanted to cry when Luna started to draw patterns on your palm as you both stared up at the spackled ceiling. 

“Our journey has not ended yet,” Luna’s voice is small, but still fueled with conviction. 

“Thanks, Luna. I don’t even know where I’d be without you.” 

A comfortable silence descends upon you two, and you shift to get comfortable in your spot, realizing that Blaise’s overcoat was making it difficult to turn over. Slowly sitting up, you shrug off the thick material, and fix your jacket, realizing it was slightly askew from your movements. As you smooth down the material, you freeze as your hand moves over a thick bulk in your inner pocket. 

Portrait…? 

No. Of course not.  

Ignoring the cold sinking of your stomach, you fish out the object and search blindly for your wand. 

“Lumos.” 

Your breath hitches. 

Regulus’ journal. The one you found stuffed between his mattresses. Swallowing harshly, you slowly run a hand over the wrinkled cover. 

How could you have forgotten?

As you try to maneuver your wand to allow both of your hands to be free, a gentle tug has you swiveling your head to the side. Luna merely smiles at you before looking back at the journal, nimbly holding your wand over the book so you could flip through it. 

“I can look away if you want,” Luna’s gentle voice slices through the air with a warmth that you viscerally feel in your chest, and you smile at the girl in gratitude. As she turns her gaze to the darkness, seemingly becoming entranced by nothingness, you slowly furl the first pages open. 

Property of Regulus Arcturus Black 

You turn the page, fingers twitching as you resist the temptation to trace the swirls of his name. 

3 November, 1976 

Today is Sirius’ birthday. The first year he will celebrate away from home, as a disappointment to the family name. Mother and Father were particularly cold today. I just have to try harder. Sirius has stopped replying to my letters, and he avoids me in the halls. 

I think I hate him. 

Your heart pounds furiously in your chest as you reread the entry, struck by the unfamiliar loathing coated in his tone. Sirius was sixteen when he left, so seventeen in 1976. Regulus was only fifteen when he wrote this, and already so tied down by his family and abandonment issues. 

The next few pages contain similar entries, all filled with abhorrence for Sirius and bitterness towards his parents. 

Then the year changes. 

8 September, 1978 

The Dark Lord is going to change the world, make it a better, purer place. Mother and Father were pleased when I announced that I would be taking the mark soon, already having made strides among his growing forces. 

Sirius would hate it. I know he would. But he would expect it. He should, anyway. 

He already hates me, what damage could this do to our already broken relationship? 

He should hate me. 

I hate myself. I hate him.

I hate him so much.  

17 December, 1978

Visiting my portrait was eventful. I can feel him growing stronger with every meeting. I think I’ll have to repaint it soon, looking at it and seeing a reflection of who I used to be never gets easier. 

The next repaint, I’m going to finally do it. Hopefully, all my research will have paid off. Uncle Alphard’s book on magical essences was more helpful than I could have ever imagined. 

The room is complete, and I can feel my magic all over it. If I can imbue it into my portrait as well, it will be perfect. 

Maybe then he can forgive me. If I explain. If I try. 

The Dark Lord is expecting me soon. 

3 January, 1979 

The repainting was a success. My hand will be sore for the next few days, but it was all worth it. I finally figured out how to key the room. The only person who will be able to access it now is Sirius. That is if he ever returns home. 

My portrait is so like me, it’s truly uncanny. Perhaps I can publish my findings after I graduate. 

My mark aches often. 

I miss Sirius. 

5 March, 1979

The Dark Lord tried to kill Kreacher. 

After everything I’ve done for him. After everything I’ve sacrificed. 

Sirius was right. 

Kreacher keeps talking about a potion and a locket. I need to understand. I have to. 

It is imperative that I impart everything I know to my portrait, so Sirius will know that I tried. That I finally understand. 

Is this my punishment? Must I suffer so for forgiveness? If he does not forgive me, will it all have been for nothing? 

I need to find out what the Dark Lord is hiding. It will be my repentance. 

19 May, 1979 

Horcruxes. 

Such vile creations, a defiling of one’s soul. The Dark Lord has a horcrux. I need to destroy it. 

My portrait grows restless with me. To think it was even possible. He only has the faintest ideas of my current ambitions, but I feel everyday that he is growing to be someone I never could be. Someone that Sirius would be able to forgive. 

I’ll destroy the horcrux and accept the conditions tied to it. 

There is no other way. 

8 June, 1979

Everyday I grow closer to executing my plan. 

I have given my portrait everything he needs to know. 

I wonder, is all soul magic as abominable as horcruxes? I begin to see parallels with magical essences and soul magic. Yet, they feel completely different. 

Or perhaps I have finally lost all sense. I have always been a hypocrite. 

I wait with bated breath. 

I will destroy it even if it kills me, and it will be glorious. 

28 July, 1979 

I fear that if I wait any longer I will go back on my conviction. 

Mother and Father are growing increasingly vexed with me. I think they want to marry me off by winter. 

It will be before then. 

I have stopped confiding in my portrait about my deeper feelings. I fear that my weakness will be obvious even to him. 

I have read more about magical essences to distract myself. Even the Dark Lord is not omniscient. Magical essences have ties to one’s soul, the bounds of such revelation I do not know. Yet, I have learned of something even the Dark Lord is ignorant to, and because of that, he has debased himself with horcruxes. 

A small victory, and an inkling of how it will feel when he’s gone. 

When he falls. 

14 August, 1979 

I will do it in autumn. 

I hope it will all be worth it. 

26 October, 1979 

My portrait can cast magic. 

I wonder if Sirius will be proud. 

29 October, 1979 

I wonder what being in love feels like. 

2 November, 1979 

I never really had aspirations outside of what was expected of me. 

Have I always been so pitiful? Was I the only one who couldn’t see it? 

15 November, 1979 

I hear that the Potters are expecting their first child. 

I wonder how Sirius will treat their baby. 

I think I’m going crazy. 

17 November, 1979 

Tomorrow. 

You flip through the journal hastily, and you feel your eyes sting in the darkness at the crushing realization. 

Blank pages. Empty and unfeeling, and so telling of his fate. 

You weren’t going to leave tomorrow. 

Anders would have to drag you kicking and screaming. You wouldn’t give up on Regulus, not after everything he sacrificed. 

You will do whatever it takes. 

tag list: @krazyk99 @venomsvl @valsarchives @bunny24sstuff @novella12nite @elia-the-bibliophile @txorua @xlifexdeathx @trikigirl271 @the-marauders-world @sleepydang @blueberry-thrawn @lestat-whore @chanaaaannel @clockworkherondale @peachyaeger @thegayhoenextdoor @l--absinthe @ok-boke @summer-noir @mikeikax @musically-ambiguous @dittos-blog-dylanobrien @friendly-neighborhood-boricua @randomfaeriechild @misacc08 @that-bitch-bri @littleshadow17

[azulock]

Hii can i request nsfw hcs for luna leonardo if you write about him

Sure thing nonnie!! Man, I really wish we got to see more of these guys, they looked cool. Sorry for the delay, the internet just fucking died

Leonardo Luna NSFW Headcanons

⟳ Ins't him that cocky guy? He is, even in his sexual/romntic life. He knows he is handsome - and has money and fame - and oh boy he isn't one to pretend to be humble about it. Guy is a charmer and gets around pretty easy, helps that he is a good fuck too.

⟳ He is vocal, lots of grunts and moans but mostly dirty talk. Expect a lot of teasing - the cockiness doesn't stop during sex. Expect a lot of dirty nicknames, he is into that too.

⟳ Is a dom, one who is into teasing and manhandling you to hell and back. He doesn't mind if his sub is obedient or a brat, he is having fun either way. If you are a brat, he is gonna take pleasure in putting you in your place. If you are obetient, though, you gonna get praised for it, but he's still gonna have fun teasing you relentlessly.

⟳ You don't speak Spanish? Too bad, it makes him even meaner, so don't let him know or else he'll only be speaking in Spanish and he will expect you to obey. You don't understand? Well, that's not on him.

⟳ Big into bondage, very much big into chokers and leashes. Wants to see you on the floor, on a leash for him to yank around. He'd enjoy tying you up just to watch you squirm against the restraints, he finds it cute even.

⟳ Big on body worship, mostly recieving it. He wants you clinging on his body like it's an addiction, and one that leaves you stupid cause that man is also big on dumbification. He's gonna get you mindless and babling and still tease you intensely for that.

⟳ Likes to fuck fast, rough and only stop when you are too tired to move a muscle. Actually, he goes beyond that quite a bit, he really likes it when you get weak cause that makes it easier for him to manhandle you.

⟳ Now for his dick, ain't much longer thn average but dude is thick, like real thick. Not very veiny tho, but it has a nice upwards curve, looks good and he knows how to use it. In terms of hair he ain't clean shaven but he keeps it trimmed, and since he is a blond, sometimes that's enough to make it seem like there is nothing.

[ambrosiaaddiction]

The Princess and The Tool’s Day Off

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ repair man!Simon Riley x curvy!Y/N

₊˚ପ⊹ Warnings: Slight nsfw excerpt from a series that most of us are familiar with.

₊˚ପ⊹ Word Count: 1.6k

₊˚ପ⊹ a/n: this is a special filler before part 2 & credit goes to @writingmyimagination

➽──────────────❥

Sunny days weren’t particularly (Y/N)’s favorite. But for some odd reason, on one of the brightest summer days, she decided to go to the pool and test out the amenities her apartment offered. Dressed in her white bikini top that had a deep v in the front and a crisscross back, she paired it with high waisted black bottoms with a white trim. She wore a black Pink brand baseball hat to conceal her face from the hot sun and hoped to avoid sunburn.

(Y/N) had always been the solitary type until Luna brightened up her life, whether she wanted her to or not. She chose her, and they’ve been friends since. She had the opportunity to spend time in the sun alone at their community pool, and hence she took it. The sun beaming down on her skin, allowing the heat to create small beads of sweat as she worked on her non-existent tan and read her book series. So engrossed in her fantasy world with her favorite steamy romance novel, she failed to notice the heavy gaze from a certain repair man while he let loose of some steam in the gym.

“Bloody hell.” Simon whistled as he silently cursed and praised his job’s layout of the gym and pool. The clubhouse that houses the gym was placed right next to the pool with an open view. The windows showed a one way reflection as he looked out to the sunny deserted place, finding the bane of his existence just giggling at her book. “She’s fuckin’ stunnin’.” He breathed out to no one in particular. “Those curves on display for the world. They aren’t worthy of this masterpiece.”

His muscles rippled with every set as he pushed himself further than usual, wanting his veins to pop just a bit more today. Heavy breaths and grunts escaping him, filling the room with a small echo. Considering he was the only person there. This was a typical day off for Simon. Work out when no one was around, wash off and spend his day doing something around his house. 

He knew he had a change of plans in order when near the end of his two hour workout, she was still there. He watched her occasionally get too hot, take her hat off, and dove into the deepest end of the pool. The first time, (Y/N) had him almost nearing the door, ready to save her when she didn’t come up for air. Only for him to realize she swam the length of the pool under water then would float just in the middle as if she was the only person in the world.

His favorite moment was when she’d use the ladder to climb out, the water dripping off her and he’d wish it was something else. Simon had been in quite the predicament after visiting her home and meeting both her and her best friend. He thought of her randomly after that and wondered if after he was done fixing stuff, would she’d still look at him with that cute pout every now and then.

He ached, his muscles burning from his intense regimen. He made use of the gyms showers and changed to his deep maroon swimming trunks. They were mid-thigh to show his toned muscular legs and tight, giving little to imagine if he stood just right. It’s not like he could help it if he was blessed in the areas most men would pay money for.

Once he walked out of the gym, he instantly made eye contact with her.

“Holy mother of all things good.” She muttered under her breath. Her eyes roamed over his chiseled arms, seeing the veins pop as they reached his hands. They trailed down his torso to the criminal happy trail leading down to a rather large bulge. He stood by the outside shower and pulled on the lever, letting the water run and hit his body. He purposely ignored the lingering stare, and held back from giving her the same kind of attention.

She snapped out of her head, turning her attention back to the book. She realized she was at the part where the ravenous viscount took his mistress against a tree in the open. Her face darkened into a deep red as her mind began whirling with imagination, the words fueling her desire as she feels the heat against her skin.

➽──────────────❥

Her legs wrapped around his waist as he violently thrust into her like a mad man, trying to satisfy a insatiable desire. His hands holding the soft plush underside of her thighs and their grip tightening occasionally when he feels her walls clench. The moans leaving her body as he pushes her against the tree, her undergarments long retired and lost. “We shouldn’t… ngh—“ he covers her lips with his own and pulls back, looking deep into her soul. “Just give me everything, princess. I want to feel you lose yourself against me.” She gives out a rather breathless sigh as her orgasm pools in the depths of her stomach—

➽──────────────❥

“Hi, (Y/N). How’s the breaker working so far?” A deep voice pulled (Y/N) out of her fantasy. The owner of said voice was a pleasant surprise, and she gave him a radiant smile. She then put her book down on the table next to her. “Hey, Simon! It’s been good so far, and no complaints. Thank you, Sir.” Her chaste manners, as well as the unexpected term, caught him off guard.

“Good to hear.” Simon’s chest swelled with pride from the compliments. Especially when it was so genuine and sweet. Like her. “Sorry if I’m interruptin’ your sun, usually ’m the only one here. S’nice to see someone else enjoyin’ the amenities.” He was glad that someone happened to be (Y/N). She motioned to the lounge chair next to her. “Take a seat! I don’t mind company at all—I should probably take a rest from reading anyways.”

He glanced over to the table and she nervously reached for her hat that’s right next to it. (Y/N)’s cleavage taunted him as she bent forward. She placed it back on and smiled before her timer to flip went off. She stood as he set up on the lounge chair next to her. He watched her lower the back to a lying position and then climbed down. Her perfectly plush round ass jiggling in the air as she became comfortable and laid her head on her folded arms, looking over at him.

Simon laid back and tried his best to be a gentleman as he too basked in the sun. A short comfortable silence soon fell among the both of them as the wind blew, offering some relief from the heat. His gaze got the best of him, and he could see her figure in his peripheral vision as she smiled to nothing.  

Minutes passed and (Y/N)’s timer went off again. They both looked at one another and glanced at the pool. A silent nod of approval is shared, and you both stand. Simon’s the first to go in and watched as she dove in the water. Small ripples formed around him, and he felt her near in seconds as she came up for air. He noticed she couldn’t stand like him where she was, so he offered his arm as a float for her to take a rest. (Y/N) slowly reached out and touched his wrist, going up his arm as she sought a comfortable position to just float. With a gentle tug, Simon guided her over to the shallow side. Once she could stand on her own, she reluctantly let go of his arm.

“You’re beautiful, you know.” He vocalized his inner thoughts. For a man of few words, he succeeded in receiving an adorable reaction from (Y/N). Her cheeks bloomed a soft pink, and she shyly averted her gaze. “Thank you. You’re not so bad yourself.” This came as a shock to Simon, and yet, he never felt more elated. “So we can both agree there’s an attraction. How about you let me take you out?”

He quickly added, “No rush on the answer, but just let me know when I can come by to check on the paint.” He didn’t want her to feel as though she was being pressured. If anything, her consent mattered most, and he worried he’d scare her off. “O-Okay, I’ll ponder it.” (Y/N) agreed, which brought a smile to his features. He reached out and tucked a stray strand of hair behind her ear. The rest of the afternoon is spent swimming and sunbathing until dusk.

They both packed up their personal belongings, and he walked her back to her apartment. Even though it was in the opposite direction of his, but that was irrelevant. Once at the entrance of her place, the Ring camera chimed, letting her know they’re being recorded. (Y/N) already knew Luna was going to want all the answers.

“I had fun today. Thank you for the unexpected company.” She turned to face Simon properly, her eyes bright and her arms hugging her bag closely to her chest. Smiling, he shook his head. “You’re welcome, doll. But I think ’m the grateful one here.”

There’s a small silence and only (Y/N) can hear Luna shout from the inside, “YOU BETTER KISS THAT MAN OR I WILL.” (Y/N) held back a laugh and reached forward, her hand going to his bicep. She stood on the tips of her toes to kiss his cheek. The softness of her lips igniting a spark in him he hadn’t felt in ages. “Good night, Simon.”

Right then and there, he felt like he was going to stop breathing. She certainly knew how to steal his breath away without even trying. “Have a good night, (Y/N). I hope you have sweet dreams.” He whispered lowly just so that his words resonated deeply in her.

With that, he took a few steps back and watched her head inside until she closed the door behind her. He began the walk back to his apartment, dreading for work tomorrow. Simon knew there would be a lot of picking up his co-workers’ slack. But this time, his thoughts would be full of her.

[stargazingsims]

2000s Lookbook: Erica Bachelor-Kane (Part 1)

Helia Hair by greenllamas

Selina Diamond Bracelet by rustys-cc

Marceline Top by Ikari-sims

Demure Belly Button Piercing by pralinesims

Luna Jeans by peachpitsims

Magnolia Mules by greenllamas

Faith Tee by sentate

Jade Jeans by sentate

Louise Scarf by serenity-cc

Kokoro Top by Saruin (TSR)

Shiloh Hair by okruee

Juicy Tracksuit by ridgeport

Marissa Top by sentate

Brisa Bikini by ciao-cc

Soho Skirt Mini by greenllamas

Platform Sandles 04 by juis-sims

Sinope Bracelets by candysims

Rue Top by cheesehair

Lower Than Ever Skirt by plumberrycc

Cola Necklace by joliebean

Lace Trim Tie Front by goodchillsstudio

Juliana Bra by serenity

Seqoia Skirt by greenllamas

AxA Necklace by aharrisxayoshi

Mhumie Top by greenllamas

Heaven Belly Button Piercing by WisteriaSims (TSR)

Kerosene Skirt by greenllamas

Kate Hair XVII V2 by rusty-cc

Alejandra Dress by sentate

Tanya Pumps by mortimergth

Layla Tee V2 by aharrisxayoshi

Spectacularly Low Jeans by plumberrycc

(General resources: Nail It! Nails by joliebean, Sweetener Gloss by crypticsim)

[l0vegl0wsinthedark]

Draco and Harry never expected they'd have a girl but they're really really good dads???? They let her pick out her own clothes and toys when she's old enough to point and they spoil her so much??? It's too much to bear. They don't give a shit that she plays in the mud all day (bath time is a riot ft. Giant bubbles, coloured foam, and one if not two completely drenched dads) and they have to remember not to laugh in front of her when she sasses them (some sort of rock paper scissors to decide who needs to sit her down and talk to her about respect). The neighbourhood boys are a little scared of her because she's just better at everything than they are and doesn't even blink at a bloody knee. They're just such good dads she's an incredible kid they're very content.

Oh but they're both shit at plaiting her hair. They have to learn after a point because she likes to wear her hair long (she keeps sprouting about a foot of it overnight when they even so much as trim it - Harry is like 👀👀👀). She takes after Harry in that way but she has Draco's hair, nearly white and SO FINE they both just ahsgdhskksdj CAN'T.

They're given live tutorials by Hermione, Luna, Molly, and even a very impatient Ginny who cannot believe how stupid they are. Heck, even Pansy Parkinson sashays in one day ("AUNTSY!!!" and "Tut tut sit, darling. What have they done to you?") and her fingers move through the fair hair, shockingly quick and dexterous ("WAIT, Pans, I don't follow!!" and "I don't get how many sections she made. Seven?"). They're hopeless.

Which is why they start practice-braiding each other's hair before bed each night. 😌

[venny19]

🍋Lemons & Peaches🍑

Pairings:

🍋Leonardo Luna x Reader x Adam Blake🍑

Context: It's hard bringing in a social gathering when you, yourself don't usually 'social'. Thirsty, you decided to grab a drink at the bar. With a handsome fellow along with it Side Note -> Zenon Martyr is going to be the ALTERNATIVE version of Zenit Saint Petersburg in Russia football team.

Inhales......... exhale.........

She couldn't believe she was here, a place so big at a social gathering for anyone over the influence. Surprised she was invited to begin with. 

Such an atrocious thing she could ever do is be invited to some sort of social gathering. Admitted she wasn’t as expressional when attending but her manager said it would be good for socialization. Despite her manager’s words, she agreed to go, but if things begin to not go to her liking, then she can go back to her private room that she booked, to her she didn’t know what the reason was to host such a social gathering. Some are for charity work or famous people just show off their wealth and status, it just left a bad taste on her tongue.

But whatever I guess, she’s here so why not made the most of it. Social gathering or not, she’s not one to publicly speak her mind out on whatever. She knows how people see her as, and she’s not going to risk her pride being ruined by entitlement in her life. Best to keep a low profile and make herself nonexistent. Better safe than sorry is always the best option.

Her choice of clothing was something she didn’t think of, not one bit. Damn her manager for making her wear something so eye-catching and expensive. She wore a red mermaid tail dress with golden trimmed on the side, black laced sleeves that met her forearms, beaded pearls at the trim of her dress accompanied with roses, including her chest area with a silver brooch, to top it all off with a black laced neck choker that accommodated with earrings and make up for it to make it look unique. 

[Here is your➩ Dress]

Here she told herself not to attract attention and now the majority of people are looking at her, murmuring amongst themselves to figure out who this woman with such a cold expression and a beautiful dress could be. Truth be told she never wore something so extravagant and pricey but it’s Her’s now.  Well, she was indeed rich from making more figures than any of the female football players in her country, but she never spends it on any needs, seeing that money doesn’t bring her happiness in her eyes. 

“Who is that?!”

“She looks like a model!”

“Could she be one of the CEO's wives?!”

“No chance. She doesn’t have a ring on her!”

“She looks way too serious, not my type of woman.”

Murmurs after murmurs. It was endless from the amount of attention she’s receiving, when will this torture end? She felt uncomfortable by the many stares, judging her every move, but she had to keep it professional level, and can't let anyone think of her being easy. Keep her head held high and relax. Don’t let them think of her anything different.

She takes a deep breath from it all and exhales. What was the point of coming here again? It’s already wasting her precious time, and it was too crowded, loud noises, too much chatter, a room flooded with an obnoxious scent coming from everyone. It made her nostrils burn from sickness. 

“So many useless people for useless reasons. I shouldn’t have come here.” She grumbled under her breath. Her eyes scanned the area and noticed a juice bar not too far, maybe a drink could calm her nerves. Not too sweet or anything spicy that could burn her throat. Yeah, a drink sounds nice. Her heels clicked on the marble floor as she made her way to the mar where the bartender was doing his duties.

When she counters the bartender took notice of her presents. Smiling, he offered his help to the girl. “Well, hello there miss, is there anything you might like?” He asked in a cherry tone. [Name] took notice of his aloof and fine features. She nodded to his answer. “Da, can you make something not too sweet, and not too spicy if that’s possible?” She asked him.

The genre's bartender nodded at her request. “Sure things miss! Happy to oblige! Wait here for a moment!” He spoke happily. [Name] waited for a moment for her drink. It wasn’t long before her drink was severed. She thanked the bartender and looked at her drink…. From the color and fruit that was sliced and placed upon the edge of a cup.

From the instant she saw the cup she knew this drink was……

Lemons

The fruit garnish was a delightful touch to her drink, adding a splash of color to the already inviting glass. She brought it to her lips, savoring the moment as she took a small sip. The liquid flowed over her tongue, revealing a rich tapestry of flavors that danced around her taste buds. It was far from the overly sweet concoction the bartender had described; instead, it offered a complex blend that was both refreshing and intriguing. As she took another sip, she felt a momentary sense of pleasure, a brief escape from the chaotic atmosphere surrounding her.

But that feeling was short-lived. An unsettling sensation churned in the pit of her stomach, urging her to find a quieter space away from the prying eyes of the crowd. With a resigned sigh, she set down her glass and began to weave her way through the throng, seeking a secluded corner where she could gather her thoughts and let the tension slip away. 

Just as she turned a corner, she collided with a man who had suddenly appeared in her path, his attention absorbed by his phone. The impact startled her, and in a moment of unfortunate miscalculation, she felt her drink splash over the front of his blazer. She cursed under her breath, frustration bubbling to the surface as she watched the surprise morph into fury on his face.

“WHAT THE?! YOU BITCH! YOU JUST RUINED MY TUX!” he exclaimed, his voice a harsh bark that reverberated through the air. He pointed an accusatory finger at her, and she felt her blood boil at the injustice of it all. It wasn’t her fault he was so engrossed in his phone that he failed to notice the world around him.

“HUH?! AREN’T YOU GOING TO SAY SOMETHING?! OR ARE YOU GOING TO PAY UP?!” He stepped closer, invading her space with an aggressive demeanor. [Name] glared at him, the bubbling anger within her urging her to defend herself. The mounting attention from onlookers only intensified her discomfort, and she knew she had to stand her ground.

“It vwasn’t my fault you vwere foolish enough to be distracted. You have eyes, don’t you? Use them. And don’t call me a bitch; it’s disrespectful,” she replied, her voice steady and calm, though her heart raced. Yet, her words only served to infuriate him further. An angry vein throbbed on his forehead, and she could see the rage igniting in his eyes.

“OH! YOU BITCH!” he shouted, his fists clenching tightly as he took a step closer, ready to escalate the situation. “YOU THINK YOU CAN TALK TO ME LIKE THAT!” His fist flew toward her, and instinct kicked in. [Name] was prepared to catch his fist and twist it, ready to teach him a lesson about respect.

Before she could react, a strong hand shot out from the crowd, intercepting the fist that had been aimed just inches from her face. The sudden intervention stunned everyone, including [Name], who looked up in surprise at the man who had bravely stepped in to protect her. The atmosphere shifted dramatically, tension crackling like electricity as onlookers held their breath, anticipating how the confrontation would unfold.

“Why don’t we just pause here and avoid drawing any more attention to ourselves?” His voice carried a hint of mischief, and his vivid green eyes locked onto the aggressor. Meanwhile, his other hand remained securely wrapped around [Name]'s shoulder, a silent promise of protection. [Name] was not one to enjoy company, nor did she appreciate unsolicited interventions. Yet, she felt a flicker of gratitude towards him for stepping in; without his timely action, the situation could have escalated dangerously.

“Thank you, but I didn’t need saving,” she asserted, her tone firm yet laced with an undercurrent of uncertainty. The man merely scratched the back of his head, seemingly unfazed by her words. 

“Hah! If it weren’t for me, that guy would have landed a punch on you ages ago!” He flashed a confident smile, but [Name] found little comfort in his bravado. She still felt that his interference was unwarranted, a breach of her personal space and autonomy.

“Didn’t catch your name?” he continued; his interest unabated. “Names Leonardo Luna. What could a pretty lady like yourself be doing here unattended?” He extended his hand toward her, a gesture both charming and bold. Flattered despite herself, [Name] hesitantly placed her hand in his.

“How flattering, the name’s [Name] Bogdanova,” she replied, her voice steady yet cool. Leonardo's smile widened as he leaned forward to kiss her gloved hand, an old-fashioned gesture that caught her slightly off guard. “The Russian player? Hear great things about you.”

[Name]'s eyes widened in surprise; his recognition of her name was unexpected. “You know vwho I am?” she asked, incredulity coloring her tone. He nodded in affirmation, his expression one of amused confidence.

“Indeed! I’m surprised to say you didn’t know I am,” he teased, but [Name] furrowed her brows. “I do recognize vwho you are. I don’t have to announce my name or your profession to know,” she replied, lifting her champagne glass to her lips for a few sips, trying to regain composure.

“Wow, no wonder they call you the cold player! Do you always look at everyone like that, or were you just born that way?” he casually quipped, his tone light yet probing. [Name] swirled her drink in her cup, her gaze unwavering. “Not as flattering as they say you are, or are you just born that vway?” she shot back, a hint of defiance in her voice.

“Wow, it seems like the tigress can bite back! My kind of style!” he exclaimed, clearly enjoying the banter. “How about we take this somewhere a bit quieter, like the balcony?” He extended his hand, inviting her to join him. [Name] hesitated, skepticism clouding her mind, but curiosity got the better of her, and she took his hand, allowing him to lead her through the bustling crowd.

They walked for a few minutes, finally reaching the balcony, where they stood high above the busy night streets, the city’s lights twinkling like stars below. Leonardo leaned back against the railing, tilting his head to admire the full moon that hung in the sky, its glow illuminating the night. “The moon’s beautiful tonight, isn’t it?” he asked, glancing at her with a playful smile. [Name] simply hummed in approval, her gaze fixed on the streets below, lost in thought.

Noticing her silence, Leonardo's expression shifted to concern. “Hey, is everything okay?” He reached out, placing a gentle hand on her bare shoulder. She shuddered slightly at the touch, slowly turning her gaze to meet his. “It’s fine, really. I’m just not used to gatherings or having conversations this long with anyone. I might just bore you vwith my presence,” she admitted, her voice soft and vulnerable, still avoiding his eyes as her thoughts swirled in her mind.

Leonardo smiled, sensing her words of genuine who She spoke. “Well, you've come all this way have you not? This night might not be for you. why not enjoy our last Night together” holding up his champagne glass for her to toast. [Name] felt slightly better and smiled from his statement.  lifting her champagne glass up for it to clink together with a toast. 

“Our Last night together” She announced. After that they drank Their champagne and watched the sky together. Leonardo bringing her closer to set the mood. To her she felt relieved that this night wasn't as disastrous as she expected.  At least she had company for her to indulge.

Maybe Lemons weren't so bad after all. 

Peaches

Peaches had never been her go-to fruit, yet the exquisite thought of them lingered on her palate, each sip of champagne accentuating their delicate flavor. The effervescence danced around her senses, and she found herself reaching for her glass more frequently, captivated by the unexpected harmony of the peach-infused beverage. It was a delightful surprise, far surpassing her expectations—outstanding, even.

As she savored the drink, her mind drifted into a world of her own, blissfully unaware of the soft murmurs that floated around the room, creating a subtle hum of intrigue. 

"That woman there is [Name] Bogdanova! She's the Russian football player for Zenon Martyr!!"

The name sparked immediate interest in a certain Englishman, who was perched at the bar, swirling the rich red wine in his glass. His ears pricked up at the mention of her name, and he couldn't help but mutter, "Russian player?" under his breath, his gaze fixated on the striking woman who was leisurely sipping her champagne, the golden bubbles catching the light.

"Yeah, but some say she's hard to talk to or hard to get. No one really wooed her over!" one of the gossipers chimed in, their voice laced with a mix of admiration and disbelief.

This revelation intrigued the Englishman even more. The idea of a woman so elusive, yet undeniably captivating, stirred something within him. He was used to getting what he wanted, and the challenge of winning over a woman like [Name] only intensified his interest. He was determined to learn more about this enigmatic figure who seemed to be beyond reach. 

Just then, as if the universe conspired in his favor, a bold intruder decided to breach [Name]'s personal space. The Englishman’s heart raced with excitement—this was the moment he had been waiting for. With a well-timed approach, he knew he had a golden opportunity to make his move. Bingo. Now was his chance.

[Name] was minding her own business as always, skillfully navigating the crowded room with a practiced ease that kept prying eyes at bay. She preferred to be an observer, soaking in the atmosphere without becoming part of the spectacle. That was until a drunken lout stumbled into her personal space, making a bold and unwelcome move.

“Whoa! Didn’t expect a hottie like you could *hic* be so cold? I was just trying to get to know ya!” His absurdly slurred words and the overwhelming stench of alcohol made [Name’s] nose wrinkle in disgust. Everything about him—the disheveled hair, the obnoxious laughter, and the careless bravado—made her stomach churn. She attempted to ignore him, focusing intently on the flickering candle on the table beside her, willing him to disappear.

“Aww *hic* Did I scare ya? You don't have to be afraid—”

“Please refrain from making skin contact vwith me; I'm in no mood for petty talk.” She shot back, her voice low and firm as she noticed his hand inching toward her shoulder. The man merely chuckled, dismissing her warning with a drunken snicker as he leaned closer, clearly intent on tormenting her further.

“What?! Are you looking down on me? I'm just trying to lighten the mood!” Just as his fingers were mere centimeters from her shoulder, a firm hand seized his wrist in a vice-like grip that made him yelp in pain. He turned, eyes wide, to see the intruder: it was the Englishman from before, his expression dark and menacing, eyes glinting with fury.

“She said to refrain from touching her. Are you deaf?” he snarled; his voice laced with an intimidating authority. [Name] couldn't help but find amusement in the scene unfolding before her, a smirk tugging at her lips as she recognized the man standing up for her. She knew who he was, Adam Blake, a well-known football player, and while she appreciated his intervention, she wasn’t keen on him making a scene.

“Now scram, you bigot insect,” he commanded, shoving the man away, who quivered and staggered off, muttering under his breath. 

“I appreciate your help, but it vwas not needed,” [Name] began as she turned to walk away, but Adam wasn’t having any of it. He reached out, grabbing her wrist gently but firmly, stopping her in her tracks.

“How about a thank you? That would be nice,” he said with a hint of playful challenge in his tone. [Name] turned back to meet his gaze, weighing her words. He had indeed solved the problem, so perhaps a small compliment wouldn’t hurt—after all, that’s what guys like, right?

“Even though you invaded my personal space and caused a scene in front of others, it vwas foolish to do so… but I do have to thank you for stepping up. It vwas charming of you, Adam Blake.” She took a delicate sip of her champagne, watching as a smirk appeared on his face, clearly flattered by her words.

Feeling a surge of confidence, he took her hand, leading her away from the bustling crowd towards a more secluded area of the venue. [Name] was surprised but went along with him, curious about where he was taking her. After a short walk, they found themselves in a tranquil garden, far removed from the noise and chaos of the party. The fresh air was a welcome change, the gentle rustle of leaves providing a soothing backdrop.

Adam guided her to a bench and sat down next to her. [Name] felt a blush creep onto her cheeks as she sipped her champagne, trying to ignore the flutter of nerves in her stomach. She had to admit, Adam certainly had the looks that could charm anyone, but she wasn’t one to be easily swayed.

Suddenly, she felt something crawling on her arm and brushed it away, discovering it was just a ladybug. 

“Not a fan of insects?” Adam asked, twirling his wine glass between his fingers. She shrugged, a hint of sarcasm in her voice. “That and human insects too,” she scoffed, earning a chuckle from him.

Amused by her humor, Adam leaned closer, a mischievous glint in his eye. “What do you say we ditch this stinking social gathering and head somewhere else?” His suggestion was lighthearted but carried an undertone of genuine interest, a small invitation for a date, just the two of them.

[Name] paused for a moment, contemplating the idea. A bit of quiet time with Adam could be nice, away from the prying eyes and the unwanted attention. “Hmm, I don't see a problem vwith that,” she replied, a small smile breaking through her cool demeanor.

Pride swelled within Adam at her acceptance, and he stood, extending his hand to her. “Quite the gentleman,” she complimented, taking his hand as she rose to her feet.

“Only for the one and only Russian player in Zenon Martyr,” he replied, flashing her a charming grin that made her heart race just a little.

Realizing her glass still contained champagne, she chugged the rest and set the empty glass outside, feeling a rush of excitement at the unexpected turn of events.

Peaches do in fact taste sweet when you are with someone. 

*BEEP BEEP*

“Oh, a notification?”

Says here that she got invited to Japan for the Blue Lock next stage, And being invited as the NEL coach for Russia Stratum.

“Maybe mix it up, it could be males only.” She shrugged. 

*BEEP BEEP*

Wait no, this notification is for her, and for her only.  Guess she's going to Japan.

……”Oh…..”

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ Ended

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© 2024 Ｖｅｌｖｅｔｅｅｎ 平和な目覚め— do not repost, copy, translate, modify, etc my work on any platform without my permission!

[xkeyon]

Luna Maximoff Marvel Future

So Luna is a pretty popular character, reaching most of the Marvel fan base thanks to the many connections she has, even though she doesn't get used that much. Marvel loves to bring out the next young hero so why not have one who is known yet can also be developed, letting her have a shot at something and there are 2 paths that come to mind.

That would be the Avengers path, first the Young Avengers later on joining a different Avengers group most likely Uncanny. The other would be the Magic path, as it is revealed one per-generation of the Maximoff line takes on Witchcraft powers and holds a Scarlet Title, so have her be the next inheritor going to Strange Academy while getting private lessons from Wanda.

Ok now that 2 paths are out there what about a costume, most superheroes wear some kind of costume and she has a family full of them. Well I would put costume in 3 sections. Design, Colour, and Attributes. The design would be leaning to the Inhumans, she is a literal Princess for them. Plus her mother's family seems to have a theme that she could follow

A prime colour, with black trim, and a given name symbol on the waist

Crystal = Diamond Medusa = M So Luna could be a Crescent, as for colours I would look to her father for this

Switching out the Black trim for white, as for the Prime I think it should depend on the path she would be on. I would go green for the Avengers, and Blue for Magic. Now Attributes to really scream Avengers or Magic.

If Avengers then wear her mother's Avenger's jacket, a real passing of the torch moment.

If Magic, then Red/Scarlet like Romani articles of clothing. She would adopt these not just with her costume but also everyday clothing as well. Since she would be at Strange Academy and while they have a uniform it does look to have some customization.

So powers, as an Inhuman who has gone through Terrigenesis she has gained powers that in the form of empathic aura reading and control.

But this has given also some precog abilities. It has not been explained how this is, but I think it might be she sees the future someone is leaning to the most based on their emotional state.

She holds a high amount of Inhuman DNA so will have their advanced bodies even before Terrigenesis, as well has received martial training from the likes of Karnak. Of course if she goes the magic path then Witchcraft will be a birthright as much as her Inhuman gifts. Witchcraft a magic that connects to a Goddess and the Earth.

Now while all of these are good things for a hero path to have she doesn't feel at least right now a solo act. Teams and Companions will be important part to her, and how she will act with either the Young Avengers and Strange Academy will depend on who could/should/will be there, but I do know someone who could get added to these Franklin Richards.

Currently depowered him getting his own new path could work here. For the Young Avengers give him a suit like the Thing Suit + Thing Rings, but make it something that connects to the other three Fantastic Four members letting him take on their powers though it being weaker. Each of the main members of the Fantastic Four have been part of the Avengers so he captures still the Young Avengers theme. If magic, well Agatha Harkness was his nanny maybe her recommendation to try plus get into the academy could work here, him learning Quantum Magic, still leaning into the F4's more science connections but looking at it another way.

Their families are close so they know each other and depending on who is on the teams they would most likely have the closest connections with each other, perhaps even moving from friendship to romance.

[janksfatass]

Pt. 1

Warnings: Tumultuous marriage, nothing spicy… yet.

Word Count: 1700

F!Reader x OC, F!Reader x Jake

Plot: Reader is in a loveless marriage and attends a charity event at a mansion for her husband’s new job. She decides to explore and ends up meeting the owner of the home. He then takes her on his own tour. Was she getting in over her head?

“Y/n what the fuck are you doing? We were supposed to leave 10 minutes ago!”

You sit up from fastening your heel and take a deep breath before responding, “I’m coming down now!” You grab your clutch off the bed and take one last look in the mirror to preen and check for any imperfections.

Tonight was some sort of charity ball that your husband was invited to by his coworkers at a new consulting firm. You had met Steven in college and from the beginning your relationship was never built on passion or love but rather logic. He was smart, getting a degree in something admirable and not to mention easy on the eyes. After graduation you had the picture perfect wedding and bought a house with the proverbial white picket fence. That was a year ago. Now your days mostly consist of going running your boutique and coming home to make dinner (which you more often than not eat alone). Then winding down with a glass or two of wine and your trusty rose. Sex wasn’t really a component of your marriage anymore. With Steven’s long hours you hardly spent any time together at all and when you did it was mostly spent screaming at each other. This isn’t the life you had pictured for yourself at 25 but it is what it is.

You make your way down the steps and there is Steven waiting for you in his all black suit with a silver mask covering half of his face.

“Let’s go, we're already late.” He grabs your arm and practically drags you out to the car that’s been waiting on you. You wince at his touch, “Why is it so important that we’re exactly on time anyways? Isn’t it just a party?”

“It’s not just a party, it's THE party. Everyone important will be there and it’s a prime opportunity to network, you couldn’t possibly understand.”

“Ok then…” you climb into the car and place your clutch in your lap.

The ride there was uncomfortably silent but not unusual. Steven pulls onto a side road that leads up a mountain. The road begins as gravel and then becomes paved about halfway up. At the very top sits a large white brick mansion with black trim. The mass of a driveway is lined with Bentleys, McLarens and the like, meanwhile you’re sitting in a 5 year old Mercedes C class.

“Who’s house is this?” You ask.

“Don’t worry about it, come on.” He grabs your hand and leads you out of the car up to the double doors which are being guarded by a large bald man.

“Password?”

“Luna.” Steven replies in a semi hushed tone.

The man opens the doors and you both walk inside. You’re greeted by a massive foyer with a double staircase that looks like it belongs in a vampiric film. The interior of the home almost takes your breath away. Charcoal walls, black marble floors, silver accents adorning the room and crystal chandeliers half the size of your car hanging over your head.

Soft jazz is coming from a room nearby. You follow Steven to the ballroom where you see about 200 people. Some standing in groups talking and some gliding with one another across the floors.

You turn to Steven,“Can we get a drink?”

“You go ahead I’ll be over here.”

You roll your eyes and make your way to the bar. You greet the bartender, “Hi, can I get a glass of champagne please?” He acknowledges your order and you turn around to scope the room. Middle aged men and their too young wives. Decrepit Vanderbilt types that resemble walking corpses. The amount of money in this room could probably end poverty for the whole country. Doctors, lawyers, philanthropists, businessmen, and a few that you wouldn’t be shocked if they were involved with organized crime, all mingling amongst each other.

You finish your drink and spot your husband across the room and walk over to him. He continues his conversation as though you weren’t even there, not even taking a moment to introduce you. After 20 minutes of conversations about new businesses and architecture, you grow increasingly bored.

“If you’ll excuse me.” You give the group a polite smile and nod then go back into the foyer to ask the doorman where the bathroom is.

“Up the stairs, to the left and then it’s the first door on your right.”

You walk up the staircase and enter the bathroom. You’re immediately drawn to the giant mirror encased in an ornate frame of delicately carved flowers and foliage. Jesus this guy is ridiculous. As you sit, you look around and your mind starts to drift thinking about what kind of man would have a home this extravagant. ‘He probably has a trophy wife with big fake tits and a bbl. Maids and chefs to do all the work while she sits and looks pretty. What a fucking dream.’ You finish up and wash your hands. When you re enter the hallway you decide to explore a little. Steve won’t even notice you’re gone honestly.

You begin to peek into the rooms down the hall, noting the spacious bedrooms and also a theater room. What really grabs your attention is the study. You step into the room and the walls are top to bottom shelves filled with books. You notice a few familiar names, Mary Shelley’s Frankenstein, The Alchemist, etc. You walk around the desk and see out on the balcony there’s a small seating area and a large telescope pointed at the sky. You step outside and begin looking through it, searching for constellations.

“Lovely night isn’t it?” You jump at the raspy voice coming from behind you and quickly spin around.

“Y-yea it is. It’s very clear tonight. Not a cloud in the sky.” Your throat is dry as you eye up the man.

He’s small in stature but appears fairly sturdy nonetheless. The top half of his face is covered with a black mask but you can see a neatly trimmed mustache sitting above his heart shaped lips. His long hair pulled back into a bun. Very well dressed. Donning a gray suit. He has on black button down with what appears to be only the bottom two buttons secured, revealing a smooth chest that he’s decorated with a few necklaces that hold coin pendants. He has an Italian leather belt around his waist that matches the loafers on his feet.

“This is my second favorite room in my home. Especially on nights like tonight.”

“This house is YOURS?!” You choke out.

“You seem surprised. Why?”

“I guess I expected an old crusty bastard to live in something like this. Something so… over the top.”

“Well that’s one thing about me. I tend to have a habit of enjoying the more lavish things this life has to offer.” He takes a sip of what appears to be whiskey in his glass.

“I can see that… You said this is your second favorite room. What is your favorite?”

“I could tell you.. but I think I’d rather show you. Would you like a tour?” He asks and you notice he’s now returning the favor of eyeing you up and down. Seemingly taking a few extra moments on your curves and specifically the neckline of your dress that cuts just below your sternum.

He extends an arm towards you. You look down at his hand as you reach for it. The voice in your head is screaming at you. Telling you that you shouldn’t go with this stranger but there’s something about him. Something Alluring... Dangerous... Sinful even. ‘Fuck it.’ You place your hand in his and instantly electricity shoots through you. It feels as though you’ve just sealed a deal with the devil himself.

He walks you through the maze that is his home, showing you a billiard room with a bar, an indoor pool, his office space, numerous guest rooms and finally, the master bedroom. Each space was decorated in a way that you’ve come to realize is very on par with his personality. Dark and luxurious. His bedroom was no exception.

He lets go of your hand and snakes his arm around you with his hand resting on your lower back. His thumb gently strokes your exposed skin. He guides you through the doorway and flicks the light switch. The room illuminates in a red glow. In the center of the room sits a four post bed with an extravagant wrought iron headboard. You notice above the bed, there’s a circular mirror on the ceiling. ‘Strange.’

“Why is there a mirror up there?” You question innocently.

“Why do you think there’s a mirror up there?” He gives you a look that immediately connects the dots in your brain and you feel your cheeks begin to flush.

“Oh right... Naturally. Okay.” You feel your throat becoming dry once again.

“Well go on, take a look around.”

You follow his instructions and begin to explore the huge room. Another bookcase that reaches the ceiling. His closet could be another bedroom in itself, filled with designer suits and Italian shoes, silk ties and rows of shirts. The bathroom contains a freestanding tub that could probably hold 4 people and the shower about 8.

“Wow. This is absolutely…” You stop yourself as your eye catches an… elevator? You walk over to it and look at him. “Where does this go?”

“The basement.” He replies matter of factly.

“What’s down there?”

“Would you like to see?” He quirks an eyebrow.

“Tell me what it is first. Is it like a dungeon or something?” You laugh.

“Well…”

Your laugh instantly ceases.

He smirks at you, watching the wheels begin to spin in your head. He can tell he’s piqued your curiosity.

“Well? Well what? Is it a dungeon or not?”

“Why don’t I show you and you can be the judge of that.”

You stop for a moment to think of what awaits you. “As long as you promise not to murder me.”

“Cross my heart, hope to die.”

‘If I die, I die.’

He takes your hand again as the elevator dings and opens. The inside is wall to wall mirrors. You notice there’s only two buttons. One for his bedroom and one for wherever he’s taking you.

[mannylikessims]

The True Story of the Villareal Family [4.1]

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“Do you smell that, offspring?”

Jacques said, sniffing the air outside the Oasis Spring Botanical Gardens.

“You mean the flowers?” said Luna, a dreamy look in her eyes.

“No,” he corrected. “The smell of dirt and decay. It’s a nice reminder that we'll all eventually be worm food. Now let’s get this Family Fun Day started!”

He ushered his reluctant children into the main building of the botanical gardens, Hugo trailing behind nervously.

“So, is the plan to burn down the botanical gardens…?” he asked his father. Typically, Villareal Family Fun Days involved arson of some kind.

“No, not this time, Hugo,” replied Jacques. “Because I am definitely not a criminal.” He said this part loudly enough for everyone at the gardens to hear.

Jacques lowered his voice again. “Enjoy the day like it’s your last, offspring… just remember, we’ll be visiting all the exhibits.”

And with that, the children peeled off to explore the gardens.

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Luna was looking for something.

She was looking for the most romantic spot in the botanical gardens, and she think found it.

She settled herself onto a loveseat in a cute little garden. Sigh. If only her crush, her mystery knight, were here to share it with her.

So she did the next best thing and texted them.

I have a confession, she wrote.

Is that so, princess? they texted back.

Yes. I have decided I would still date you even if you are ugly

Wow, that’s huge, they responded. Thanks, I’m so honored

Luna smiled to herself and typed back, You’re welcome 😘

They continued, They should throw a parade for you. Luna Villareal, Princess of the Paragons: Cares about more than just looks. And give you some kind of award for being NOT shallow

She paused.

Wait, you’re making fun of me, aren’t you

😉😉😘, they replied.

She giggled.

────────✦───────

Meanwhile, Hugo wanted to talk to Luna, but he had run into a problem. A chest-high, neatly trimmed problem.

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Credits: Botanical gardens by @mdianasims Romantic garden by @seabens-simbler