DEAR READER
Not today Justin
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JVL
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trying on a metaphor
Sade Olutola
will byers stan first human second
Xuebing Du
Stranger Things
Lint Roller? I Barely Know Her
wallacepolsom
occasionally subtle
Janaina Medeiros
Misplaced Lens Cap
if i look back, i am lost
2025 on Tumblr: Trends That Defined the Year
noise dept.
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sheepfilms
seen from Netherlands
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@msmelissalin
These are links to information you can read in regards to Melissa Lin. The below are only a few of the created pages and links, the full navigation has a more extensive list, however, the most prominent are listed below.
(click anywhere on the sentences to be directed.)
Melissa’s full navigation .
Melissa’s full biography.
Melissa’s connections page.
Melissa’s friendships page.
Melissa’s timeline breakdown page.
Melissa’s NPC’s.
FOR: @vinnievespucci
One second before, she smiled.
One second later, she didn't.
Standing face to face with what Melissa knew was the devil in disguise.
"Vincenzo, a pleasure." Forced, volatile...painted in a pretty political bandaid.
FOR: @ayaz--ates
"Here's to our hopeful dream vacations away." Melissa had seen him not three seconds prior when she'd been happening past. "I do hope its nothing too...outrageous." lifting her glass in greetings.
for: @msmelissalin
"You really do want that yacht trip in Monaco." There was entertainment watching Melissa and Adriana battle it out.
"You know me, when I see something I want..." and there was nothing else on that list that made her want the yacht as much as she did. She could feel the heat on her skin already, the freedom of a sea breeze. "And...it's Monaco." Gesturing to Jordana. "I see you want Morrocco, any reason?"
MELISSA LIN: valentine's day auction event, 2026.
Escorted by: herself.
FOR: @mobscene-starters LOCATION: The Venue EVENT: Halloween Event, 2025.
"I'm praying for a relaxing evening."
It was, of course, kept in mind that there was futile hope for such things when so much blood had already been drawn. So many deaths. Moves and counter moves.
Peace had never been the language known, or felt by those in this room, nor of the business that was held within it. The most important part of why they all played these games. The undercurrent between the different parts of the mob, the turf wars within London, political, and criminal aspirations. Andrew, Johnathan and Melissa had those moves in place, should they be required.
But what were they all doing here, right now? It was simple. One thing: pretending and practicing false civility and doing it to the best of their ability.
Inevitability, Melissa feared that it'd come to a blow sooner than later.
Still, she sat there, shoulders drawn back. Playing her part.
"Are you enjoying yourself?"
@keremdogulu Event: Hallowe'en, 2025.
"It always seemed like such a waste that you never dressed up as John Wick."
Sat just far enough away, Melissa couldn't help the laughter that burst from between her lips. Brilliant. Absolutely brilliant. Top marks for humor from a Frenchman? There was a first time for everything. Turning back to the person she was in conversation with, she smiled. "Sorry, you were saying..."
MELISSA LIN | AS CHER. HALLOWEEN 2025.
Location: The Venue
Accompanied by: Benjamin Vox.
FOR: @milaxkorshunova WHEN: October, 2025. WHERE: 1947 London Restaurant, Mayfair.
"I'm the asshole? What does that make you then? For a man of so-called honour...you use such...foul language. Mind your tongue, this is regarding business." Melissa ended the call without waiting for a response, as a sigh escaped her lips. Today, this week, even...had been hell on literal earth.
However, she saw the approach of Mila and instantly a small smile tugged at the corner of her lips. The practiced kind. "Hello my dear, thank you for meeting me on such short notice." she stood, as she did when she met those of importance.
"What can I get you to drink?"
FOR: @felixrodriguez WHEN: October, 2025. WHERE: Felix's Office. (Benjamin lingers outside.)
"I never got to give my condol — congratulations on your wedding anniversary."
FOR: @jordana-velasquez WHEN: October, 2025. WHERE: Anabels, Berkley Square. (£££)
"Benjamin is off doing god knows what." Melissa smirked from across the table. Private, away from the rest of the room, and of course, plied with a ridiculous amount of the top shelf being offered every few minutes. "The boy deserved a break. Actually - I think I need the break. From him."
FOR: @franciscovidal WHEN: October, 2025. WHERE: Melissa's Home. The kitchen.
"I forget how much noise you bring with you." it's a playful jab as she sets the ordered food across the countertop. "It's pretty much silent in here when I'm alone, except for the staff." Who were shocked no one had been fired for incompetence in a short while. Melissa Lin didn't have time to focus on the small things.
None of them did. Ever.
FOR: @vinnievespucci WHEN: October, 2025. WHERE: Melissa's Office. Close to Midnight.
“Close it behind you,” eyes never lifting from the document she was signing. Court case after court case. But she knew Vincenzo wasn't here for a quick chat over a cup of tea. “If you’ve come at this hour, I assume it’s not for pleasantries and a good old catch up.” Melissa played it off, her poker face in place.
But even she couldn't deny how her hands shook as her pen moved across the paper.
LUCY LIU Cashmere Mafia
There weren't too many of the fights listed that interest4ed her - one way or another the night would end in blood. Satisfying to say the least. Disappointment filled her briefly as she noted her own pairing - her heart jarred in her chest at the script that depicted who Olivier was fighting, but nothing filled her with the kind of dread that washed over her in seeing the name next to Ben's. There was no getting out of it now - the list was damn near scripture at this point. The familiarity of Melissa's voice drew her out of it as she whirled on the woman, "Did you know about this?"
Melissa did not know about this.
It was if her blood ran cold, she cared none for the rest of them. Only that one name printed opposite Benjamin's. It both stopped her breath and changed the thumping close to her sternum. All she could do in that moment was shake her head.
"No."
There were many questions she wanted to ask, her eyes instantly finding the balcony. And for one moment, she didn't care who noticed what she was doing. She simply stared. To where Lara was to be sitting. Why would she do that? To spite Melissa? If so, this was no longer fun and games.
"I certainly did not."
Óscar swirled the glass once before lifting it to his lips, letting the slow burn of reposado coat his tongue before he finally spoke. His gaze lingered on the ring—on the blood, sweat, and bone meeting canvas.
“That depends,” he said, low and deliberate, “On whether I like the colleague," he didn’t look at her at first—just let the words hang like smoke between them. Then his gaze ticked over, dark and assessing, a flicker of something softer tucked beneath the usual sharpness, "There’s a difference between watching someone fight because it’s what they’re made for… and watching someone get sent into the lion’s den when they shouldn’t be there yet."
Óscar paused. Letting the crowd's noise muffle out all thoughts. Even if for the briefest of moments.
"You don’t have to say it," he added, quieter now. "I know what this fight means. To him. To you."
His jaw flexed once, molars tight.
"And, if Vinnie gets too comfortable out there, I’ll handle it."
Another sip. Another slow roll of his shoulders.
"Just make sure you’ve got someone on standby to sew me up after."
On whether I like the colleague
His answer was enough to draw an unexpected burst of laughter from Melissa, such honesty, and an answer she, herself, would've given. Hand raising to cover her mouth as she did, habit from fancy dinners and social events. Class followed her like her Chanel perfume, some parts of her would never change. "Apologies," she offers, before she reaches for her drink and takes a measured sip. "I don't know what came over me. Please, continue" it's the way she'd been brought up, to always play host. To be respectful, and above-all-else, masked.
Ben had in fact been chucked into the lion's den with this one.
There was a feral instinct in her to question Lara on her choice. He was, after all, one of their own. But it would be wasted energy, and a needless venture. One did not question Lara Rutherford's choices when it came to fight club. Especially not after the loss of Amir.
Instead, she'd bore the repercussions of his dance with Étienne.
"Thank you for not making me go over it..." again. Most had wondered about the bad blood, it wasn't common knowledge. Only those Melissa and Ben had told were in the know about his parent's death. But now, more knew than either of them had intended. Her face remained emotionless, as she asked a passing server for another two drinks for the both of them. "And the offer with Vincenzo — he's been a pain in my backside ever since..."
She didn't speak of that night. But she was sure Óscar knew.
"I'll make sure you're looked after as best as I can." turning her gaze to him, she assessed for a moment. "How're you feeling about it? Confident?"
Chanclazo
FOR: @msmelissalin EVENT: Fight Club 2025 WHERE: The Underground | During Fights
It was almost time for Benjamin to be up. His first year. A thought that hadn't been lost on the bodyguard and made his way through the crowd to where Melissa was seated. Óscar didn’t say anything at first—simply settled into the seat beside Melissa. He grasped a glass of reposado in hand, the rim kissed with lime and patience. Only a few more rounds and the bodyguard would soon find himself in the ring. Perhaps a scolding from his favorite distraction would help.
"Didn’t peg you for a ringside regular," he said eventually, eyes still on the latest fight brawling out before them. The low light caught the amber in his drink—and his eyes, sharp as ever when they finally flicked her way. "But then again, this place does have a flair for the dramatic."
His eyes flicked over to Benjamin as the younger man prepped in the corner, "You tell him you’d break his legs if he lost?" his tone very apparent in its teasing.
Melissa had never been one to let feelings to become visible to those around her, pulling her shoulders back to make herself taller. Not that she needed to do that, it was more to calm herself. And although she couldn’t deny that her emotions had bubbled over one to many times in the face of adversity: that was what she got for taking the spot of second in the organization. Manicured nails ran down the off-gold silk of her dress – anxiety running rampant through her.
Never ending, soul eating: but to see her, back rod straight and lips pressed into a thin line – Melissa Lin was a statue.
Étienne Canét had killed Benjamin’s family.
Étienne smashed Melissa’s jaw until she’d needed it wired shut.
…Étienne was a sore subject for the duo.
Melissa’s lips pressed into a thin line.
Four years ago, she had stormed through the fight club double doors, to find her ex-husband being patched up. Things had changed over that span of time: Jonathan wasn’t painting the city red…for now. Time had a way of mutating things, changing people-- some for better, some for fucking worse. Now, she avoided Johnathan when she could, even when the circumstances made it impossible. Afterall, he was the boss and she was his handler. Even if most in the organization believed she was the one that required babysitting these days.
It was easier to focus on the others. Like Lara, sat upon her balcony like a high queen.
She's alive. The flash back of her walking from a tomb at the last Fight Club before they'd felt the lose of Amir.
However, the scrap of the chair brought her back to the present, turning so dark eyes found his. “I don’t mind violence, I just don’t actively participate." Vincenzo. "Unless they’re Italian.” Or going after her pseudo-sons – not that she’d ever admit that out loud. As much as she wished Gideon to be involved in this life, satisfaction could be found when she found him nowhere within the vicinity. So much like his father, and yet so vastly different. She never joked about the situation with the Italians: but it was Óscar.
“No, but I might find someone to break his opponent's legs if he comes out too damaged.” she wouldn’t, but Melissa told herself that to ease the panic. There was no humor in the smile that fell upon her lips, she couldn’t find it with Not when it came to Gideon. She would never tell him the depth of her motherly love towards the boy — she didn’t even voice such things to Benjamin, even if he knew without having to say anything.
"How do you feel about watching your colleagues pummel themselves to death?”
