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tired-teacher-blog · 6 months

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Characters : Tattoo artist Aizawa/ Florist fem reader

Featuring : Eri/ Hizashi Yamada/ Nemuri Kayama/ Oboro Shirakumo/ Emi Fukukado

Warnings and Genre : Fluff/ Romance/ Smut and Angst in future chapters/ Multi Chaptered Story

Summary : In a desperate attempt to get closer to the tattoo artist dominating every speck of your brain, you decide to pay him a visit one evening as a client seeking his service. This encounter will prove to be the beginning of something much bigger between you two, but will this new found passion be enough to stand against the difficulties your future holds?

Notes : Loosely inspired by this/ Art below is by the wonderful @/ael-draw who gifted me this gorgeous piece.

Masterlist|Second Masterlist|Third Masterlist

Chapter Count : Part 1 • Part 2 • Part 3 • Part 4 • Part 5 • Part 6 • Part 7 • Part 8 • Part 9 • Part 10 • Part 11

_ "I was so excited today when dad told me you were coming!" little Eri squeals enthusiastically while holding your hand and jumping with every word.

_ "I wouldn't have missed it for the world, we'll have lots of fun right?" you respond with the same level of excitement before picking her up in your arms and twirling her around as lively giggles escaped you both.

_ "Alright don't move, stay like that for a moment." your boyfriend appears with his camera in hand, ready to snap yet another photo of the two of you.

It's a habit of his, capturing moments like this to keep as a memory, and printing them out to frame, and you've grown so used to it that sometimes you strike a pose without waiting for him to ask.

_ "Good job girls, you look beautiful," he smiles dotingly before tucking his camera away and joining you, "dinner is ready." he announces with a smile before planting a soft kiss on his daughter's cheek, and another on your lips, lingering a bit until hearing Eri's playful protests.

You can never explain or understand how, but moments like this, when you're together with them, talking, laughing, playing, without a care in the world, moments like this are what makes you the happiest, so if heaven ever existed, then this is yours.

_ "This tastes so good Shouta, you did wonderful." your eyes widen in surprise as you take your first bite.

_ "That's right dad! Good job." little Eri chimes in with an adorable little giggle lacing her words.

This is shaping up to be a wonderful evening that both you and your boyfriend desperatly needed, especially after the hell you've been in for weeks..

You needn't think of that right now, you will at least have a little peace of mind tonight.

The doorbell suddenly rings once, one loud ding that interrupts your happy chattering and gets you all snapping your heads up in surprise.

_ "I'll see who it is." your boyfriend announces with a smile before setting down his half empty glass of water and standing up to do just that.

Your eyes shift to little Eri who seems uninterested in the newcomer as she carried on with her meal, unlike you who are now wondering who it might be.

It's possible that this is one of his friends, he did take the day off -as did you- to spend it whole with both Eri and yourself, so maybe something happened at work that he needed to learn about.

_ "Oh hello."

That voice, it's strange, yet so familiar, who does it belong to? If only you had the guts to look up and see who's looming over you right now.

_ "So we meet again, flower girl."

There it is, the same condescending tone that's been hunting you for weeks, you know whose it is, but refuse to believe it.

_ "That's enough Emi!"

Only now did you finally lift your head up to see the furious look in your boyfriend's eyes as he glared at the same beautiful woman who visited you a few weeks ago, and whom you wished to never see again.

_ "H.. hi, nice to see you again." you hurriedly stand up and bow to the woman who doesn't reciprocate the gesture.

Her name catches your attention though, Emi.. you could swear you've heard it before, but can't for the life of you remember anything about it.

Aizawa pushes his way between the two of you and gently holds your hands, the frightening expression of earlier is now replaced with a soft one , and it makes you feel secure despite the situation, "would you please take Eri to her room? I'll explain everything later."

You do not question him, and simply nod in approval before extending your hand to a confused Eri, whose innocent eyes kept traveling between the three adults surrounding her..

_ "Aren't you going to ask?" you hear the smirk in her question even with your back facing them both, but you keep a steady step towards Eri's room because you know you weren't the one meant to respond.

Aizawa says nothing too, not before making sure you've disappeared behind Eri's door, and then you hear it:

_ "You tracked her down? What is it you want exactly?" his voice reaches you clearly, even though you aren't in the same room as them anymore.

He sounds furious and it's scary, where did your gentle boyfriend disappear? There is obviously so much you don't know about their past, and the realization is making you feel like a total stranger.

_ "You know exactly what I want so don't play dumb with me! You went ahead and got yourself a little plaything after I entrusted you with our daughter! How could you expose her to that?"

Of course, it's Eri's mother, that's why her name sounded familiar, it's because Shouta had told you about her before.

_ "What's going on? What does that woman want with dad?" Eri's sweet and worried voice brings you back to reality, it isn't the time for self-pity, because this clueless little girl who -by the looks of it- is unaware that she was in the presence of her mother only moments ago, is in need of some reassurance right now, and it's your job to provide.

_ "Oh this is just a grown-ups discussion, it's nothing to worry about sweetie I promise," you bend down to her level and smile through your lie before carrying on, "how about we watch a few more episodes of your favorite show? We can do it on my phone."

_ "Really?! Yes let's do it!" her attention immediately shifts towards the new topic as she starts jumping in excitement, and her innocence melts your heart.

You tuck her in bed and take a seat at the edge of it before handing her your phone and connecting it to her headset, she doesn't need to hear any of the arguments outside, you on the other hand, are understandably restless, but still keep your calm demeanor in front of her..

_ "You can see her whenever you want, I already told you this, but I will never give her up." he sounds more hurt than upset, and it breaks your heart to pieces.

_ "I just.. I don't want to lose either one of you again, Shouta please, can't you give me another chance? If not for me, then at least for our daughter's sake."

Another chance..

Her words felt like acid poured in your ears, and you cannot bring yourself to hear his response.

You press your hands to your ears as your mind turned into a tangled mess, what if he says yes? It would be perfect for all of them actually, especially for little Eri who would finally have her mom around like she deserves, but where would that leave you?

You glance at the sweet girl leaning her head on your shoulder, and wonder if it's your place to be in her room right now when her mother isn't, maybe it was never your place to begin with, you have been longing for somewhere to belong and someone to love until you met him, and it felt perfect, too good to be true in fact, but maybe that's just what it is.. too good to be true.

If there is a way for them to be happy together, then what gives you the right to selfishly take it away?

_ "Hey, did you hear me?" a gentle tap on your arm brings you to your senses, and it's him, smiling sweetly like he always does, but for some reason, this same smile that usually warms up your heart, is now filling you with nothing but dread.

_ "Oh I'm sorry, I didn't see you walk in," you force out a chuckle and turn to check on Eri, only to find her already deep in slumber, "oh look, she's already asleep."

How long have you been out of it anyway? Apparently long enough for Eri to doze off and for your boyfriend to come in unnoticed.

_ "She is," his gaze lingers on the little angel's sprawled frame before shifting to you, "listen, I'm sorry about what happened out there, it's.."

_ "What? No it was nothing, come on," you avoid his eyes and fix Eri's pillow before planting a gentle peck on her temple and taking your phone back, "I just hope everything goes well, so just do whatever's good for Eri."

He doesn't reply, a blank expression on his face as he watches you approaching, and you can almost see the wheels turning in his head.

You grab onto his shirt and lean closer to capture his lips, and he freezes for a second before melting into the kiss..

_ "Shouta, I'll be here for as long as you'll have me." you had to say those words, even if you're certain that your time together is nearing its end, you -at least- want him to know how much he means to you.

He smiles wearily as his eyes bored into yours, he seems exhausted and clearly reluctant to talk so you don't push it, and instead prepare to leave so he would have a chance to think things over, but he stops you in your tracks with a pleading look on his face before leaning his head on your shoulder.

_ "Please don't go.." is what he heavily breathes out while clutching onto your arms.

Of course you'll stay and be the pillar he desperatly needs, because who knows, maybe this would be the last time you'll have the chance..

To be continued..

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rebirthgarments · 6 months

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Hi friends! We have a couple of updates to share.

Firstly, Seraj needs more than $3,300 to pull off his final Ramadan project before Eid. He wants to distribute it on the last day of Ramadan, which is in 3 days, so we need to get to $20k ASAP!

contribute at bit.ly/serajfund

The financial situation in Rah Fah continues to decline, with intermediaries taking a 15-17% cut when people get cash out. He is so hopeful that this project will work out! Helping others and bringing smiles to faces–especially those of children–is clearly one of Seraj’s passions.

Here are the project details, all thought up by Seraj himself. He has amazing ideas! 125-130 cash envelopes containing either 50 or 100 shekels each. Seraj will distribute them based on how large each family is. Seraj will also make 40 envelopes for kids, each containing 20 shekels.

Currently, Seraj’s plan is to distribute his envelopes on the last day of Ramadan, before Eid al-Fitr. Last time he tried to print something, the printer had no electricity. He has a plan this time for checking in early to make sure he has a chance to print.

Working with Seraj on his mutual aid projects has been such a tangible reminder that we reject the notion of charity (which is very rooted in the white savior complex and pity of Black and Brown folx), and even allyship (not enough action) instead are partners and collaborators with Seraj self directing, leading us, and constantly motivating us to to get to the next goal so he can achieve his vision!

Because Seraj and his family have managed to survive, he’s been able to give back. No NGOs or governments, just a 21-year-old young man helping as many of his neighbors as he can. In his words, “This is my duty, sisters, as long as I can help! Why don't I do that!”

Seraj is genuinely a superstar to everyone on our team. His generosity is humbling to us. We have so much to learn from Pale-eh -steinians.

Secondly, we have a date for our upcoming virtual dance party! Mark your calendars for Monday, April 29th in the evening (Pacific time). Sky is hosting this event to hype up our virtual auction for Seraj. Follow Sky on Instagram for more details @rebirthgarments or @radicalvisibilitycollective

If you’d still like to contribute items to the auction, go to bit.ly/fundraiserforseraj ! Seraj’s Support Soirée would like to offer an item or service for every budget. And we encourage a wide variety of dough-nation types! While many of them will be creative objects, they do not have to be.

Some examples:

a book you love or wrote

a framed photograph

a massage (local area bidders only)

a meditation session

a piñata

a tarot reading

a t-shirt you love or designed

stickers

a virtual lesson on social media marketing

visual art

a virtual dance lesson

Your items will be listed this week on Give Butter! (stay tuned for details!)

Our support soiree dance party will hype up the auction featuring selections from the archives of Rebirth Garments fashion performances while you can dance with Sky!

Thank you so much for being here for Seraj. He and his family are so deeply grateful for all of the ways folks have supported them and partnered with them to help others. And our team is so thankful for how you all have stepped up. Please share and contribute!

-Written by my team member Bex with additions by me!

[image Description: a flyer featuring a photo by Seraj of a small little kid with a blue plastic bag full of fresh fruits and vegetables. The kiddo has a heart emoji over their face and is smiling really big. They are wearing a red shirt that says “sleep time” with a sleeping bear on it. They are standing on a sandy ground in front of a tent. Text to the right of the photo on a red background reads: Gaza Sky Seraj’s mutual aid project for Ramadan in Rah-fah For part 2 of Seraj’s Ramadan project, he gave out 32 food parcels for 32 families around him in the displacement camps. Send support to his family + others! bit.ly/serajfund “ Underneath is a QR code with the link. ]

#gaza strip #gaza genocide #gaza #free gaza #radicallyvisible #queerfashion #mutual aid #go fund me #fundraising #free palestine #gazaunderattack #palestine #stand with gaza #vetted #I personally vetted this fundraiser

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blue-rose-soul · 2 months

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Where could you see Alastor setting up his eatery if not Cannibal Town? He may keep his meals free of mystery meat, but there is the safety factor of being in a friend's territory.

For some reason I think he'd keep it small. Restaurant feels too big a title. So... Eatery. :}

Vox is banned from all Royal Properties, Alastor's side project included, and Alastor doesn't officially allow the BeeEats service so he can't even order on the sly. He'd be lying if he said he didn't care.

Yeah, I think he'd make it something small and quaint too. Not like a Michelin 5-star restaurant but the kind of place that attracts a solid number of regulars and hosts live music. It definitely has that rustic vibe Alastor is so fond of and several nods to the bar where Nicaise taught him to play the piano. There's a wall of banned customers and Vox's portrait was up there before opening day on a 18" x 24" gold-framed canvas with a plaque reading, 'Idiot Box.' And then there are a few dozen smaller photo prints of the various VoxTech employees who have been sent to get takeout on Vox's behalf only to be stopped at the door. Vox 'settles' for having his personal chef try to recreate Alastor's pompano en papillote, but it's not the same...

As for its exact location, it's a little hard for me to pick out a specific area to place it. One of the mods (don't remember which) of @nunalastor did a pretty good analysis of various scenes of the layout of Pentagram City and how they contradict one another, which lead to a pretty cool collective headcanon that the city actually rearranges itself. (If I'm able to find the post I'll come back later and link it). As far as I know this is because Vivienne cared more about setting up good-looking scenes than mathematically calculating the smallest detail of her fictional world. I'd say Alastor would pick out an older neighborhood far from the Vees' entertainment district or Carmilla's industrial zone and probably not terribly far from Cannibal Town itself. As for safety, he'd keep a number of those doll-like phantoms hidden on the premise to keep an eye out for trouble when he's not present to defend the eatery himself. Any corpses made in such incidents get delivered straight to Cannibal Town.

#ask #anonymous #Hazbin Hotel #the Devil's Bastard AU #Raised Together AU #Alastor #Vox

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lostloveletters · 1 year

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Bruised Fruit Chapter 3 (Michael Corleone x OC)

Summary: An engagement party only sinks Gloria's roots deeper into the Corleone family and gives her a glimpse of what her future may hold.

Note: I plan to have chapter 4 posted next weekend! This fic has been so fun to write, and I appreciate the support on here and AO3 for it🖤

Warnings: Angst, canonical major character death, discussions of infidelity, emotional manipulation. Sexually explicit content which includes masochism.

Do not interact if you are under 18 or post thinspo/ED content. I will block you.

Chapter 2 | AO3 Link | Masterlist

“Looks like Senator Kennedy might run for president next year. They’re saying just because he’s Catholic, he’d probably lose the primaries in the South,” Gloria said, scanning the copy of the Boston Globe that room service had brought up with breakfast, along with that day’s editions of the New York Times, Washington Post, and Los Angeles Post. “Can you believe that?”

Michael nodded from his spot next to her on the loveseat, using his toast to mop up the yolk from his poached egg. “I can believe it.”

She glanced at the photo of Massachusetts Senator John F. Kennedy printed on the Globe’s article. “He sure is easy on the eyes. Almost got my vote already.”

“Would you really vote for a candidate just because you thought he was attractive?”

Gloria shielded her face behind the newspaper, hiding her grin. “It sure helps. You’d win by a landslide.” She started giggling when she heard him scoff.

She knew the Senate hearings were still a sore spot for him, his family business being speculated about on the national stage. Throughout the hearings, she’d naturally kept an eye on the papers, amused by the various asides about Michael’s appearance. Intimidating, they called him, a powerful presence who commanded the attention of the room. She especially liked the article in a gossip magazine she indulged in that described him as handsome in a dark and dangerous way that almost inspires something primal in a woman.

“You’re funny.”

“I’m not allowed to give you a compliment?”

He acquiesced with the slightest smile on his face. “Thank you.”

She gave him a kiss on the cheek. “You’re welcome,” she said as she flipped to the next page of the article. “My mom’s already chomping at the bit to volunteer for his campaign.”

Gloria’s mother, Julia, was especially active in the Queens branch of the New York Democratic Party, volunteering for every one of Franklin Roosevelt’s presidential campaigns. Gloria could remember canvassing with her mother during election years. After he was elected president a third time, Julia received a thank you letter in the mail from Eleanor Roosevelt. She had the letter framed, and as far as Gloria knew, it was still displayed in the living room of her childhood home.

“Have you heard from your parents about the engagement party?”

“They’re not coming. Dad can’t take the time off of work,” Gloria said.

When he had told her such, she knew it wasn’t entirely true, but she wasn’t about to tell Michael that she could hear her father pour himself a drink over the phone when she informed him that she would be marrying a gangster.

He nodded. “I’m sorry to hear that. I’d like to speak with your father soon.”

Gloria hummed noncommittally. “How many people are going to be there?”

“Just family, around thirty or so.”

“Thirty? Michael, you said it was going to be a small gathering.”

He grinned. “In my family it is.” He brushed some of her long black hair from her face. “You’ll know everyone soon enough.”

“Well, I already know your siblings. They’re going to be there, right?”

“Fredo can’t make it.”

“That’s a shame. He introduced us, after all.”

“It can’t be helped,” he said dismissively. “Connie will be there. I know you haven’t seen her in a while.”

Gloria liked all of Michael’s siblings, but she considered Connie a friend. Whenever Connie was in Vegas, which was quite often when she wasn’t jet-setting with her latest beau, Michael would ask Gloria to keep an eye on her. Of course, this would turn into nights of drinking, partying, and watching Connie win or lose astonishing amounts of money in the casino.

“You have nothing to worry about. They’re friendlier than I am,” he said, earning a soft laugh from her.

By the end of the week, she wasn’t so sure, but Michael had been the one who insisted on the engagement party, telling her that his family had never been involved in his wedding preparations in the past. They hadn’t even attended the ceremony. With his mother’s health declining, it was important to him.

If Gloria had been nervous to meet Michael’s children, meeting the rest of his family had her stomach in knots. She poured herself a drink to calm down before the car arrived to pick her up from her hotel. While Anthony and Mary could be shielded from the truth of Michael and Gloria’s relationship by virtue of their youth, she figured the rest of his family already considered her a homewrecker. Not entirely untrue, but she wondered how what tale had been woven prior to her arrival. Undoubtedly something to make her more palatable to his extended family.

As she crossed the threshold of his home for the first time, she felt a different warmth in his house than the kind that engulfed her in her childhood home when she had visited for Thanksgiving a few months prior. That warmth had given way to a love that wrapped around her like a blanket, a love she could dream in. The love that permeated the air in Michael’s home clung to her skin like summer sweat. Nevertheless, she supposed a sweltering love was better than none at all.

Though, when he squeezed her hand, his smile betrayed his fondness for her, and she couldn’t help but smile back. It almost made her wish that they were alone again, but there were introductions to be made. Namely, his mother Carmela, who was clearly being polite to Gloria for Michael’s sake and to set a good example for Anthony and Mary. Michael’s children barely left their grandmother’s side but seemed happy to see Gloria again. Taking the hint, Michael kept the conversation short.

“I have some business to go over with Tom. It won’t take long, but I think my sister’s about to steal you anyway,” Michael said softly, giving Gloria a gentle kiss on her cheek.

As he retreated into his office, Connie rushed over to Gloria.

Connie beamed, pulling her in for a hug. “Gloria! God, how long has it been?”

“Hi, Connie,” she said, returning her future sister-in-law’s embrace. “It’s great to see you again.”

“Congratulations! Now let me see that ring!”

Gloria moved back, holding out her hand so Connie could inspect the engagement ring Michael gave her. The night had been quiet, unceremonious if not for his presenting her with the ring, beautiful yet understated. After he slid it onto her finger, her hand burned, and she thought she was having some kind of allergic reaction to the metal until she noticed no redness or hives on her skin—psychosomatic, merely branded in her mind’s eye.

“Gorgeous, oh my god,” Connie gasped. “It suits you.”

Before Gloria could say anything more to Connie, a gaggle of younger relatives walked over to introduce themselves. All nieces and nephews, some older with their spouses and fiances of their own. Despite Connie reminding Gloria who was who, she felt her head spin at the amount of new names and faces she would be expected to know. It didn’t help that Michael’s late brother Sonny had twin girls, who were the spitting image of their mother, Sandra. While both of Gloria’s parents had a handful of siblings themselves, her extended family wasn’t nearly as close-knit as the Corleones were.

The line between business and family was almost nonexistent for them. Each son fated to take up some role in the volatile business, a Greek tragedy enacted by mostly Sicilian players–Sonny, the eldest son, dead by enemies taking advantage of his anger and hubris; Tom, the adopted son, a trusted advisor, though his heritage always left him the outsider; Fredo, the forgotten son, good-natured yet quietly resentful; Michael, the youngest son, who tried to escape his destiny but was instead doomed by a narrative greater than himself and even further corrupted by it. The chorus raged on with its warnings of the ruthless pursuit of power ignored, and Gloria shuddered to think what lay ahead for Anthony and the son Michael wanted her to carry.

Going forward, her life would be nothing short of a whirlwind of people. She wondered how Michael’s children could stand it, how he could stand it. For a family so guarded and secretive, they didn’t have much privacy. Everyone knew everything about each other. Corleone family associates filtered in and out of his house day and night.

“Why don’t you all give the woman a break so she can get something to eat?” Sandra finally said, putting her arm around Gloria’s shoulders and leading her into the kitchen.

“Thank you. I couldn’t eat before I got here. My nerves were all over the place,” Gloria said, taking a plate and helping herself to the antipasto that was set out on the table. She popped a few olives in her mouth as she piled the various meats and cheeses onto her plate.

Sandra stood next to her, taking a slice of prosciutto for herself. “No, I understand. We’re insular, guess it’s just easier that way.”

Gloria silently wondered how easy it really could be. Sandra had been a widow for at least a decade, with Sonny having been brutally murdered on the Long Beach causeway during the Corleones’ war with rival families. The details were all over the papers at the time, but none showed the photos of Sonny’s body, apparently too gruesome to be printed as he was riddled with bullets to the point where he was nearly unrecognizable. Still, Sandra was taken care of, her marriage all but secured that even after her husband’s death, an Old World life insurance policy.

“I don’t know what I expected. Everyone seems so…normal,” Gloria said, a blush spreading across her cheeks. “Ah, that’s not the right word. I mean—“

“This thing’s been going on longer than you and me,” Sandra said, gesturing vaguely. “I stopped trying to understand it a long time ago. It’ll drive you crazy.”

“I don’t even bother,” Gloria said through a mouthful of mozzarella. “He keeps me too busy to even think about it, anyway.”

“Oh, I’m sure,” Sandra said, a sly smile on her face that Gloria couldn’t help but snicker in response to. “Believe me honey, I get mine.”

Tom appeared in the doorway of the kitchen. “I’m sorry to interrupt.”

She noticed the look Sandra and Tom shared as he walked over, albeit brief, it was all too familiar. The desire, the longing, the silent promise of later, despite Tom’s wife Theresa being just a room away. Interesting. Gloria had more in common with the Corleone women than she thought.

“Gloria, congratulations,” Tom said, giving her a kiss on the cheek.

“Thank you, Tom. I appreciate it.”

“Could you come with me to Michael’s office? I just need to go over a few things with you.”

Gloria nodded, following him out of the kitchen and through the labyrinth of people in the living room.

As soon as she stepped into Michael’s office, she nearly felt the urge to genuflect before taking a seat next to him on the leather upholstered couch, as if sliding into a pew during mass. His face lit up ever so slightly when he saw her, and he took her hand in his.

“It’s good news, darling. Don’t worry,” Michael said, reading her hesitation.

She gave him a weak smile before bringing her attention to Tom.

“The divorce is almost finalized, but I’ve sent Michael’s petition to the Vatican to have his marriage to Kay annulled,” Tom said. “Between our connections to the Holy See and the severity of what she committed, I don’t anticipate this taking more than two or three months.”

All Gloria could manage in response was a quiet, “Wow.”

Michael smiled, patting Gloria’s hand. The gesture meant to be reassuring, as if Gloria had asked for it, like she was the one who wanted Kay’s sin repaid pound for pound if not in blood, then in excommunication and eternal damnation. Kay’s decision was her own, but Gloria wasn’t without sin, and neither was Michael, yet he was more than willing to have his soon to be ex-wife formally damned. Knowing Michael, the most he believed in was the hierarchy, the institution. God was merely an irritating obstacle at best and outright competition at worst.

The revelation of Kay’s mortal sin to the Vatican would almost guarantee Michael an annulment. With that in place, there’d be nothing to stop them from having a formal wedding mass despite his being divorced from a consummated marriage. An otherwise long and tedious process to convince the Catholic Church to invalidate the eternal, holy bond of matrimony would be taken care of in a matter of months.

“Once that’s all sorted out, the two of you will be able to set a date. Obviously the situation isn’t ideal, but—“

“Thank you, Tom. I appreciate the effort,” Gloria said awkwardly.

He nodded, his tight-lipped smile slightly strained. He lacked the pleasure that his brother had in the situation at hand, but there was little else he could do as consigliere.

“I have one more thing to discuss with Tom, but I’ll join you again soon,” Michael said, walking her over to the door. “Won’t leave you with the sharks too long.”

He kissed the top of her hand before she made her exit. As soon as the door shut behind her, Gloria searched out Connie, who was helping herself to a glass of wine.

“Always business with them, huh?” Connie quipped.

“Something like that,” Gloria said. “Hey, did Michael tell you why Fredo couldn’t make it? You’d think he’d be here. He introduced Michael and me.”

“You know, I’m not sure myself,” Connie said, though her tone wasn’t entirely convincing. “Hard to keep track of everyone. I mean, Francesca and her fiance are god knows where, and Ma just went off to take a walk.”

Gloria sighed. “I don’t think your mother likes me very much.”

“Ma’s old fashioned, is all,” Connie assured her. “She hasn’t liked anyone I married.”

“Gee, thanks, Connie.”

“You know what I mean. Don’t let this keep you from being excited.”

“I’m excited, absolutely,” Gloria said, feeling that anxious was more appropriate. “The relationship feels so different now compared to when me and Michael were just fooling around.”

Connie’s laugh caught the attention of just about everyone within a few feet of them, turning to see what the commotion was about. “Gloria, you know as well as I do that my brother does not fool around,” she whispered.

That much was true. Michael had a sense of humor, it was one of Gloria’s favorite things about him, but even that was guarded, doled out sparingly to a select few. Nothing half-assed or left to chance, he was meticulous and calculated, necessary traits to earn wartime promotions and later lead the Corleone family. She should have realized sooner that his maintaining their relationship for so long would serve a greater purpose.

Conversely, Gloria never considered herself the marrying type, not finding the trappings of domesticity appealing compared to the independence she enjoyed as a single woman. None of her other dalliances ever lasted longer than a few weeks. While she never considered herself quite the party girl that her Las Vegas peers were, she was never one to deny herself pleasure, throwing caution to the wind in pursuit of a good time if she felt so inclined.

Perhaps her appeal as a wife to Michael was two-fold, what she could offer him as potential mother of his child, and an ego boost in conquering her, a woman half-feral whose worldliness coursed through her veins. A much needed triumph after the domestication of his sophisticated New Englandite ex-wife had regressed until she destroyed her cage, blood and iron reflected in her wild green eyes.

She looked at Mary and Anthony, playing with their cousins, seemingly unaware of the significance of the occasion. After the dinner a few weeks prior, Michael said that he had told them Kay had done something very bad, and so she left and wasn’t coming back, and they weren’t to ask him any more questions about it. She wondered if they actually believed him.

“I need some air,” Gloria said abruptly.

She rushed over to the sliding glass door that led outside, shoving a cigarette between her lips as she made her way onto the deck that overlooked Lake Tahoe. Lighting the cigarette with shaky hands, she almost didn’t notice her future mother-in-law standing just a few feet away from her.

“Mrs. Corleone—uh, hi,” Gloria said.

The matriarch was silent, save for a brief nod of acknowledgement.

“How are you liking the party?”

“It’s fine.”

“That’s good. Michael will be glad to hear it.”

Silence once again hung in the air. Gloria brought her cigarette to her lips, watching the smoke rise above them.

“I don’t approve of the way you and Michael conducted your relationship, contributing to his marital strife,” Carmela said, pausing briefly. “Maybe it would have ended up this way without you in the picture.”

Carmela and Kay were close, she knew as much. Connie had told her that the two would often go to Mass together. For all intents and purposes, Carmela had taken Kay under her wing. It made sense, Kay had taken up the mantle previously held by Carmela, and it helped that she was a nice, college-educated woman while still being a devoted wife and mother—until she couldn’t take it anymore. Gloria being Michael’s mistress was enough for her future mother-in-law to have already made up her mind about her.

“I understand.”

“What Kay did was desperate, a horrible thing after her cries for help weren’t heeded by my son.” Carmela side-eyed Gloria. “How often was he preoccupied with you?”

“Whenever he was in Vegas on business,” Gloria answered honestly. “We went to Los Angeles together twice, too.”

“My husband, God rest his soul, always used to tell our sons, ‘A man who doesn’t spend time with his family can never be a real man.’”

It was Gloria’s turn to be silent. She didn’t know the late Don Vito Corleone. Didn’t know whether or not he was a hypocrite. Michael admired him. The whole family spoke fondly of their dearly deceased patriarch. As far as Gloria was concerned, Vito was a myth, a superstition that existed in the whispers of every mafioso, spinning taller tales about their former Don with each passing year. For all she knew, people misquoted him the way they did Abraham Lincoln.

“I’m not going to pretend I haven’t been selfish and made a lot of questionable choices. I’m not exactly sorry for them, either. For some reason, Michael loves me in spite of all of that, and I do love him.”

“That’s all that matters now, isn’t it? The only thing that can keep the family together…what’s left of it, anyway.” She gave Gloria a wistful smile. “Michael looked happy when he walked in with you. I haven’t seen him like that in a long time.”

Gloria took a long drag on her cigarette, knowing Carmela would rather that happiness be with Kay, his wife, rather than with her.

“Am I interrupting something?” Michael asked, startling Gloria a bit. She hadn’t heard him open the glass door to go outside.

“No, I’m going to head back inside now,” his mother said. “Chilly out.”

Michael nodded. “Alright, Ma. Don’t want you to catch a cold.”

Michael and Gloria were silent as the Corleone matriarch made her exit. Gloria leaned against the railing, her back pressing against the hard wood as she took one last inhale of her cigarette before flicking it aside. She watched the ember glow faintly in the wet pile of spring leaves on the ground before going out.

“I didn’t see you inside. Connie told me you needed some air,” Michael said, standing in front of her.

“Just felt a little overwhelmed. So many people,” she said, as if that hadn’t been her job for five years. Except those were all strangers. Every person in that house was related to or worked for Michael, and soon she’d be part of it. “You really didn’t have to do all of this.”

“I wanted to,” he said.

“Like how you want to marry me?” she asked. “The way it all happened, I just—“

“You just what?”

Her attention drifted to her hands, playing with her engagement ring as she withered beneath his intense gaze. “I just wonder if you thought this through.”

“I’ve done the thinking for both of us. I know you’re nervous, darling, but this is what’s best for you,” Michael said, with all the conviction of a man who still believed she was formed of his rib. Silly woman, head full of glittering diamonds, champagne bubbles, and red lipstick. He placed a firm hand over her fidgeting one. “I won’t be as careless as I have been in the past.”

Gloria stared at him for a moment, thinking she liked him better careless, at least more so than the front he put on for everyone, including her. For how important he claimed his family was, there was always distance, if not emotional then physical. At the very least, she closed the few inches between them, kissing him with the ferocity of a woman who was still resisting the trappings of domesticity.

It didn’t matter to him. His hands found her hips as they always did, fingers pressing deep to claim her flesh as his own. His own instinct had momentarily clouded his reason, as he pulled away from her, albeit reluctantly. His eyes were trained on hers, pupils dilated when he finally glanced behind him, as if to make sure his family hadn’t seen this temporary lapse of control from their Don.

And they hadn’t. At least none of them indicated such as the night went on, and they slowly dispersed back to their respective homes on the vast Lake Tahoe compound or in the surrounding city, giving their congratulations and well-wishes to Gloria and Michael.

She was grateful he’d at least arranged for his children to stay over at his mother’s, though she could tell he was growing tired of her insisting they be given time to adjust to Kay’s absence and Gloria’s sudden intrusion into their life. They’d undoubtedly have questions about Gloria staying the night, in their father’s bedroom, no less.

All traces of Kay ever being there were long gone, but Gloria glanced at the bed, Michael’s initials embroidered on the linens, wondering how many nights Kay had lain awake in that very bed, knowing her husband was with her. Maybe it was a relief after a while, seeing as Kay’s tolerance for Michael only dwindled as time went on.

Gloria liked it better when those things were separate, when she could be the other woman without having to think too hard about the implications. But she hadn’t driven Kay away. Michael had. And that same man was dragging her in, his desperation not quite as raw as the night he made his proposal, but still evident, if only to her.

This time, he initiated the kiss, his lips claiming hers, payback for her daring public display of affection earlier. He sunk his teeth into her lower lip, fresh blood blending with the red lipstick she wore, no doubt smeared across her mouth as the traces of it were on his. Though his intensity scared her at times, she found it thrilling, perhaps addicted to the adrenaline that came with riling him up, the one time she felt like she had the upper hand on him.

She kissed his neck, knowing better than to leave a mark, but at least temporarily leaving a streak of crimson in her wake. Reaching between them, she rubbed his cock through his pants, feeling it harden beneath her until his hips just barely bucked.

“Jesus—fuck, Gloria,” he groaned.

She gently protested his attempt to guide her back onto the bed. “Missionary, missionary,” she teased against his lips. “You know I’m the type of woman who likes variety.”

His nostrils flared, eyes widened at her words, and she resisted the urge to smirk until he’d turned her around, forcing her ass-up on the edge of his marital bed. Only in her black satin slip and panties, the latter were quickly discarded. She licked her bruised lip when she heard him unbuckling his belt, the rustling of fabric preceding his hand slipping between her folds, his fingers feeling the slick that already coated her pussy.

She shuddered at the sensation of him rubbing her clit, and as she gripped the comforter she lay on, she silently determined that if she couldn’t get her pleasure from anyone but him going forward, she’d make sure it was on her terms. She loved sex, which was acceptable for mistresses but apparently not for wives, as the act was then relegated for procreation rather than pleasure. She didn’t see why they couldn't have both.

Michael grabbed Gloria’s hips, and she steeled herself as he pushed his cock inside her, his thrusts deep and slow until she growled, “Harder. I’m not gonna break.”

Her nails dug into the soft fabric beneath her, clawing at it as her back arched, cat-like as she took him deeper, his pace unforgiving, her cries of pleasure filling the room. He had jokingly accused her of being a masochist in the past. She never outright denied it.

“Is this what you wanted all night?” he forced out through gritted teeth.

Her moan wasn’t a good enough response, as he slapped her ass, sending a jolt through her.

“Answer me.”

“I always want you.”

“Only me.”

“Only you.”

With that, he came inside of her, and she humped the bed for that extra bit of friction on her clit, feeling her own orgasm achingly close as she felt his seed filling her. Biting her barely healed lip finally sent her over the edge, and she buried her face in the comforter, lifting it a few moments after riding out her orgasm on Michael’s cock to see a stain of blood, spit, and mascara.

She whimpered when he pulled out of her, her pussy still throbbing from her climax. With aching muscles, she crawled up the mattress, leaning against the neatly made pillows. He undressed, his gaze fixed on her he joined her on the bed, pulling her against his chest, still slightly heaving from the exertion.

“What got into you?” he asked, amusement in his eyes.

“Besides you?” she joked before speaking her next words carefully, ever so manipulatively, “I know we’ve been trying for the baby, but can’t it at least be fun?”

He smiled, kissing the crown of her head. “I don’t see why not.”

After that night, she increasingly split her time between the hotel and his house, slowly getting to know his family better. Carmela was still icy to Gloria when she was able to make it over to the house. Those instances became more scarce, until she could only take so many visitors at her home until one evening in late spring, she passed away.

Melancholy swept over the family at the loss of their beloved mother and grandmother. Gloria regretted not having the time to build a better relationship with the woman, but the more selfish part of her lamented that she would be expected to take up the matriarchal mantle so soon, something she neither desired nor felt prepared for.

“You look beautiful, darling,” Michael murmured, helping her clasp the gold necklace her grandmother had given her for her confirmation, the pendant of the Blessed Mother resting just above her collarbone.

They stood in his bedroom, preparing for the funeral mass and wake that were sure to bring in dozens of people to the cemetery and Corleone compound.

She turned around, forehead wrinkled in concern. “This is about you and your family. I’m not sure if I should even be there.”

“Enough of this, Gloria. You’re going to be my wife, that makes you part of this too,” he said. “There are going to be a lot of people here today, some very important. I need you with me. We need to show strength and solidarity right now.”

“Alright, I—you’re right, Michael,” she said.

Gloria grabbed her black, lace gloves off the dresser, carefully sliding them onto her hands, though she hadn’t noticed until later at the funeral mass that her engagement ring had torn through the delicate fabric.

#the godfather #michael corleone #michael corleone x oc #michael corleone imagine #michael corleone fanfic #the godfather part ii #the godfather fanfic #the godfather imagine #michael corleone x ofc #bruised fruit fic

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jmdbjk · 2 years

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Life can be fascinating.

Yesterday was something else.

We got Suchwita where Yoongi says "when we come back we might not be as hot..." uhhhhh.... and "we didn't do anything big" YOONGI! MY GOD! STOP BEING SO MODEST!

Hoshi had to say right away "dude, you all did a lot more than that."

Yoongi said things that calmed the anxiety I have about this era of waiting for them to do their service and get back to us.

With every episode I get to know his personality more and more. He long ago totally dispelled (x1000) my very first impressions of him but these Suchwita interviews he does are so beautiful and enlightening.

And now he's on his way to Bangkok to do who knows what...

We got a trailer for Hobi's J-Hope in the Box video on demand on Weverse. I can't wait to watch this documentary. The trailer is showing some very real scenes, much more authentic, along the lines of the previous documentary movies about BTS.

Yes, Hobi, life can be fascinating.

I heard this Disney+ project was a series... are we to expect a documentary like this for every member? And then perhaps a group one right before their group comeback? We don't know yet.

And lastly, as I was closing my eyes to sleep last night, this K-drama playing out in real life in Korea between two major competing entertainment corporations. Armys who have been around since the beginning... this was not on y'all's bingo card for this life time was it? If this deal sticks... the ramifications...

EXO fans... how we feeling today?

I don't think the saga is anywhere near being over. Someone needs to get us some more popcorn because this is the best real life drama we've seen since that slow speed police chase of OJ Simpson's Bronco down I-5 in Los Angeles in 1994.

And to top it all off, my six WKorea magazines arrived. The package was heavy. Probably 10lbs of paper in those six magazines. That's 4.5kg. But they were absolutely gorgeous. I don't regret purchasing all six covers, they are like oversize glossy art prints of Jimin.

I can't read any of it. But the pictures sure are pretty. I may sacrifice one (the close up black and white cover) so I can scan some of the inside photos to share. I will do something with the cover, frame it, display it... it's my favorite.

And I wake up and Jimin's done a live, told us his album is coming in March(!), he could take his clothes off to show us his tattoos but where's the fun in that? <bites fist> He comments about watching the most recent Suchwita and that he would like to appear on Yoongi's show (please, please, please).

Somehow, Jimin has overcome his "awkward" era while doing lives. For over an hour and a half he's chatting, being funny, making plastic flowers, singing, dancing... TO FILTER?! ... ... if Jimin does anything like what Hobi did and sings some of his previous songs... OMFG WE MIGHT FINALLY GET FILTER LIVE!!!!!!I21!!

Honestly, I am expecting Jimin to have something on his upcoming album that will give Filter a run for its money as far as "shock" value.

Of course I will come back with another post after the subs are up on his live.

#jimin #jimin filter #hybe x sm #suchwita #yoongi #hobi #j-hope #isnt life fascinating? you never know whats gonna happen

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modernistdelights · 3 days

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Hello I'm not sure if you already know of the art of Jens Orpin (@jenorpinpainter) on Instagram, but I feel like you may enjoy her work. She mostly paints bridges currently, but has done some excellent northern brutalist wonders in the past

I LOVE Jen Orpin! She collaborated with Ali Friend to do a version of one of her paintings of Forton services as a Christmas card. I'm not a festive man, but I've trimmed and framed it, and every December I put it on the TV unit as the one essential decoration (and the sum of my contribution to decorating the house).

I didn't realise until now that she has an Etsy store with prints - my credit card is never going to recover.

Photo via Jen Orpin on Twitter

#thank you caller!#off to etsy now

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sgkprinters · 7 months

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Exploring the Cost of Acrylic Printing in India

Factors Affecting Acrylic Printing Costs: Several factors influence the cost of acrylic printing in India, and understanding these variables is crucial for accurate budgeting and decision-making:

Size of the Print: The size of the acrylic print significantly impacts the overall cost. Larger prints require more materials and resources, thus commanding higher prices. Conversely, smaller prints are more affordable but may not have the same visual impact.

Thickness of the Acrylic: Acrylic sheets come in various thicknesses, ranging from 1mm to 10mm or more. Thicker acrylic sheets tend to be more expensive due to their higher material costs and increased durability.

Printing Technology: The printing technology used can affect the cost. Advanced printing techniques, such as UV printing, may result in higher quality prints but can also come with a premium price tag.

Design Complexity: The complexity of the design or image being printed can impact costs. Intricate designs or high-resolution images may require more time and resources, leading to higher prices.

Finishing Options: Additional finishing options, such as polished edges or mounting hardware, can add to the overall cost of acrylic printing.

Quantity: Bulk orders often qualify for volume discounts, making per-unit costs more economical for larger quantities.

Cost Range of Acrylic Printing in India: While specific prices may vary depending on various factors, below is a general cost range for acrylic printing in India:

Small to Medium Prints (Up to 24"x36"):

Thickness: 1mm to 5mm

Cost Range: ₹500 to ₹3000 per square foot

Large Prints (36"x48" and above):

Thickness: 5mm to 10mm

Cost Range: ₹3000 to ₹8000 per square foot

It’s essential to note that these are approximate costs, and prices may vary based on the vendor, location, and specific requirements of the project.

Tips for Cost-Effective Acrylic Printing: To ensure cost-effectiveness without compromising quality, consider the following tips:

Optimize Size: Choose the appropriate size for your acrylic print to minimize material waste and reduce costs.

Simplify Design: Streamline your design to reduce printing complexities and save on production expenses.

Compare Quotes: Obtain quotes from multiple vendors and compare pricing, quality, and services offered.

Bulk Ordering: If feasible, consider ordering in bulk to take advantage of volume discounts.

Choose a Reputable Vendor: Select a trusted acrylic printing provider with a track record of delivering high-quality results at competitive prices.

While the cost of acrylic printing may vary based on several factors, understanding these variables and adopting cost-saving strategies can help individuals and businesses achieve their desired outcomes within budget. By considering the factors outlined in this guide and leveraging cost-effective practices, anyone can harness the power of acrylic printing to elevate their spaces and make a lasting impression.

#acrylic on canvas #acrylic photo frame #acrylic #print making #print design #print on demand agency #print on demand #3d printing #3d sign #3d signage #branding #signage #digital art #printing company #print on demand services #digital painting #fine art print #print ads #print on demand company

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cadavercrafts · 11 months

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Little tumblr artist feature

Decided to just post some photos of prints and original art i have on my walls made by artists who are semi active on tumblr. I have a lot more but many of the artists either don't have tumblr or are completly inactive here :'( I like original unique stuff so maybe there's something in there for you if you share that taste!

Starting off with a super old faded print i have from @kampfkewob of super fashionable snail people. I had this one for so many years and still like it lots. Kampfkewob does tons of different art from furry to fandom to their OC verse, digital and traditional, super versatile artist!

Next up is a print from @asoftwrongness who does amaaaazing collage art. I literally never really cared about collage art before i saw their work! I added some real leafs, bones etc around the bottom and top because my frame was the wrong size *cough* They do really beautiful stuff, some uplifting some very thoughtful and melancholy. Art and poetry really

@fj0rge formally @fjorgael and i did an art trade 9 billion years ago and i still have all the drawings they made for me INCLUDING my two lovely boys framed on the wall. Fjorge has been really focussing on digital animation recently and does really neat dynamic work; some commissions but also fandom art.

This little Jason doesn't really do @grosskelly's art justice but it gives you an idea of their work which i just adore because i feel like they really embrace the wrinkles and slimyness and stuble of life. And i just love looking at that forever. Feel the textures with your eyes!

I also have many prints by @schinako in my house and they always make me feel super warm and fuzzy. They draw mostly bunnies and girls and their art is so soft and sweet. It's full of love and happyness and that's great to see every day <3

Also i'm currently waiting on a print by @samsketchbook who i only discovered recently and who does incredibly unique creature art and poetry but my fantastic mail service company has ISSUES right now so i will have to wait a little longer. I wanted to add them tho because i love their stuff

#not my art #feature #prints #blood

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bluenpinkcastle · 2 months

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20240805: the History of LEGO Castle day 218. For 218 days, I built and posted details about the technical history of LEGO Castle. I covered approximately 15 subthemes (Classic Castle, Black Falcons, Lion Knights, Forestmen, Black Knights, Wolfpack, Dragon Masters / Dragon Knights, Royal Knights, Dark Forest, Fright Knights, Knights Kingdom I, Knights Kingdom II, Fantasy Era, Kingdoms, and Castle), 6 Service Packs, 18 Minifigure or Battle Packs, and a total of 151 sets within the 15 subthemes. Other LEGO Castle related sets included elements from Education and Dacta, games, Creator 3-in-1, Make and Create, BrickLink Designer Program, Icons, Ideas, books, photo frames, magnets, banks, and My Own Creation. The next step is going to be to compile everything into print-formatted pdf files and actually making a series of handmade, hand bound books. I think once I get the format done and make the books as resources for myself, perhaps I will offer the files for sale on Rebrickable? Feel free to offer suggestions or thoughts on this course of action, or even the best method of dividing up the books :) Would it be best to do divide the books into chronological sections? Or sections by subtheme, such as grouping all the Lion Knights sets together? Thank you for reading these posts and watching the History of LEGO Castle with me. It's been quite the journey! :D

#lego castles #lego #lego castle #lego history #lego castle history #history of lego castle #lego system castle #lego castle system

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michinnyun · 2 years

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Kinktober Day 1: Priest!Matt Murdock- Praise Kink

Kinktober list

“Good morning Father Murdock,” you say, nodding your head at him politely. Your cheeks burn slightly, just from the proximity. You always get like this around him, flustered and jittery.

It’s a good thing he’s blind.

It’d be mortifying if he could see the way your lip trembles when he smiles at you, or the way you sweat a little when he stands too close. Or, God forbid, if he could hear your rapid heartbeat whenever he's around. That would be beyond unbearable.

“Good morning,” he says, nodding his head in acknowledgement from his chair. He’d asked for you to help him sort through materials for the next service so that he can organize his sermon, and you’d practically jumped at the chance.

You know it’s wrong, but you just like him. He’s nice to be around. Calm. And so handsome, which just isn’t fair.

“Need help with a sermon?” you ask, admiring the way the light from his office window illuminates his head, like a golden halo. You shake yourself a little to snap out of your daydreams.

“My bible is in braille,” he says, smiling wryly once you sit down across the desk from him. “So you can’t help me with that, as much as I'd appreciate it, but you can help me with the pamphlets.”

You notice the stacks on his desk, freshly printed for Sunday service. “What’s wrong with them?”

“According to Karen there’s a few typos. She’d help fix them herself, but Frank made them and he’ll get suspicious if she’s hanging around my office. I just need you to go through them and correct any mistakes with a sharpie. The church can’t afford to print any more copies.”

You nod, picking up the marker where it’s waiting and flipping through the pamphlets. “Why would he be suspicious? You’re a priest.”

Matt twists his lips. “We used to date.”

You raise your eyebrows. “You and-”

“Karen,” he says, clearing his throat. “You know I was a lawyer before I joined the church. Karen was one of my first defendants. We got a little… overly involved.”

You nod slowly, your brain running at a million miles a minute. “So you date people,” you say, keeping your tone completely neutral.

Matt grins. “Why, do you have any single friends looking for love with a blind guy who lives at church?”

Your heart beats out of your chest, and you tackle the little voice inside your head screaming, ME before it can say anything stupid. You shake your head before you remember he can’t see you. “No,” you tell him quietly.

He presses his lips into a thin smile, adjusting his glasses. “It’s alright, I actually don’t date. Not anymore. I’m married to my work,” he says, gesturing at the office.

You hum, turning your focus to the pamphlets and shuffling through them. Now you’re curious. “So why did you become a priest?”

You start to wonder if that was rude to ask, but he chuckles softly.

“Lots of reasons,” he says. “I got involved with Wilson Fisk, for one.”

Your eyes widen. “Fisk?” you ask quietly. You remember him from the news a few years back.

He nods. “He didn’t like me putting him in jail, I guess. It was hard for me to find any clients after that. And I’ve been a devout Catholic my entire life. After that whole mess I just wanted a fresh start, a little extra guidance from the big guy.” He gestures above his head.

You nod. “And Karen came with you.”

He smiles. “I have good friends. Foggy was my partner in the firm, and obviously Frank and Karen are married now. They were the first members of my congregation.”

He turns a picture frame around so you can see a photo of him, Foggy and Karen with Frank hovering behind them all with his arms crossed.

“I’m guessing Foggy got that for you,” you say, stifling a laugh. Foggy tends to forget about Matt’s blindness during sentimental moments.

Matt sighs fondly. “He’s a good guy. My oldest friend.”

You hum, shuffling the pamphlets into a new pile in your hands.

“He’s easy to talk to,” you say.

“He said the same thing about you,” Matt replies, and you stare at your hands in your lap, bashful. “I’m finding I agree.”

You laugh nervously. “Thank you, Father Murdock.” Matt shifts in his seat. “Well, I guess I better get to work,” you tell him quietly. He nods.

You sit together for the next hour, him skimming through his bible and other documents with his hands while you fix Frank’s typos. You finish much earlier than you let on, absently writing on a spare pamphlet when you finish until it’s almost completely covered in marks. Hopefully he’ll hear the scratches and won’t question why it’s taking you so long to correct minimal mistakes.

You’re daydreaming when he asks you something.

“Hm?” you ask, startling.

“Could you get me the thin book at the top of the shelf?” he asks, gesturing towards the bookshelf behind him. “It’s the tallest one.”

You get up, setting the pamphlets down and crossing to the other side of the desk. Out of the corner of your eye, you notice his head following the sound of your footsteps, and you smile a little. He’s adorable.

“I think I need a chair,” you say, stretching to reach the book he’s asking for without any luck. Matt stands, offering his rolling chair to you. You use it as a stool, holding onto the back with one hand while you grab the book with the other.

You’re doing fine, until you try to get off the chair. It rolls without warning, making you trip and fall towards Matt.

He almost doesn’t catch you, stumbling as you both shout in surprise. He lands on the floor on his butt, cradling you in his arms. You wrapped your arms around his neck in fear, and your face is warming again as you realize the position you’re in.

You face him, his mouth inches from yours, lips pink and shiny. His stubble is scruffier than usual, and he smells like incense and paper. It’s quiet for a good fifteen seconds. It feels like an hour. It’s like you’re stuck in a trance, your lips connecting in a soft kiss.

You blink, staring into his unseeing eyes. “Sorry,” you say quietly, not sorry at all. He looks more confused than upset.

Then he kisses you again.

His hand cradles your jaw, sending a thrill up your spine. He kisses like you’re made of glass, a delicate thing. He steals your breath, making you drop the book on the floor with a thud as he helps you lean back on the hardwood.

You sigh into his mouth, letting him cage you in with his body. You’re still behind the desk, the morning light shining in through his office window. It feels intimate, private. You’re kissing your priest in church on a Thursday in his office. Again, it should feel wrong, but you don’t care. You feel soft, made of nothing but light and sensation as Father Murdock kisses you like he’s just come home to you after ten years of war. You’ve never been kissed like this before. You’re scared for it to end, for Matt to come back to his senses and realize what he’s just done.

You run your fingers through his dark hair, knees bending to let him crowd you more. “I knew you liked me,” he murmurs, kissing your cheek and your eyelids. “I knew it. I knew I wasn’t crazy.”

You gasp a little, staring up at him with huge eyes. “You knew?”

He laughs. “Foggy mentioned it, but I didn’t believe him.”

You smile, a little disbelieving as he presses more kisses into your skin. “Wait, you like me?”

He hesitates, seemingly shy all of a sudden. “I know I shouldn’t, but-” He presses his fingertips across your cheekbone. “You’re so nice, you care. It’s refreshing. You have a big heart.”

You shudder a little, body warming in the wake of the compliments. Matt seems to notice, leaving wet kisses on the skin of your neck. You moan softly, listening to his breath hitch.

It’s suddenly unbearably hot, and all you want to do is take off his stupid clothes and desecrate the floor of his study.

He seems to have the same idea, hand trailing lower down your body until he’s reaching under your skirt and cupping your sex through your underwear. You both shiver, the wetness already evident through the cloth.

“You like that? When I say nice things about you?” he asks, rubbing his fingers slowly against your entrance. Your mouth falls open as you nod against his neck, pushing your hips into his hand. “So pretty like this, wearing little skirts just to tempt me every week.”

You shudder, grinding up into him until you can feel his hardness digging into the inside of your thigh.

“Matt, Matt-”

“Come on, you can say it,” he teases. “Call me what you really want to call me.”

Your face burns, your moral compass spinning rapidly in your brain. “Father Murdock,” you murmur. “Father, I want you.”

He groans, rolling his body into yours and making you gasp into his mouth. He brushes your panties to the side and wiggles long fingers into the wet slick of your entrance, catching you off guard.

He says your name quietly. “I want you too.”

He sounds young and sappy, a schoolboy confessing to his first love. It’s a stark contrast to what he's doing to you. Matt groans, fumbling with the fly of his jeans as he ruts into his hand, pressing sloppy kisses to any part of you that he can reach.

You arch your bodies into each other when he gets his cock inside of you, crying out silently as he slips inside and fucks you with abandon. He probably hasn't had sex in years, you remember, watching his face and how it warps with satisfaction as he thrusts into you.

“So good, so good, you’re so good, fuck fuck fuck,” he chants, practically making you convulse with joy. “Good fucking girl.”

You grip onto his hair, the angle putting perfect pressure on your clit until you shiver all over, feeling an orgasm quickly overtake you.

Matt practically shouts into your hair, fucking you open until your thighs ache and you know you're going to walk funny for a few days. He comes hard, thrusting a few more times before he nearly collapses on top of you.

You both breath hard, tired and hot and maybe a little regretful, though that remains to be seen. Then, you laugh. A light sound.

Matt laughs too, so sweet. He sounds relieved.

“So. I am actually interested in one blind guy who lives in a church. If he'll have me,” you say wryly.

Matt nods eagerly. “Oh, I’ll have you alright,” he says, rolling back on top of you and kissing the exposed skin of your neck. “Again, and again, and again…”

He holds your hand, kissing you with devastating passion. You could get used to this.

...

Wait. How did he know you wear skirts every week?

#my fic #hi i totally forgot to post this last night bc I fell asleep but i'm posting it now #would've posted it earlier but my mom called me #and then i felt the catholic guilt severely #BUT I"M POSTING IT NOW #matt murdock #priest matt murdock #priest au #kinktober #kinktober 2022 #daredevil

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