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pretty-circa006 · 4 months

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Sneaking Out

Stepdad! Negan x F! Reader

summary Negan catches you sneaking out to go to a party and punishes you accordingly

tags age gap (reader is 19, Negan is pushing 40), spanking, unprotected p in v, making out, slight dacryphilia, stepcest, nudity, brief mentions of alcohol consumption, vaguely implied underaged drinking, hair pulling, use of pet names, cumshot

this is my first time posting my writing on here, kinda nervy!

*you are responsible for your own content consumption. if this is something you DO NOT like, simply DO NOT read or interact! :) *

wc: 2.65k

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She sat on her bed, crying. Knees tucked to her chest and head held in her hands as small sniffles and whimpers escaped her lips, despite her best efforts to stay silent. She resented her mom for being so strict and not letting her go out to parties like others her age. She was sure her mom would have let up once she graduated high school, especially since she was legally an adult now, but it only seemed like she doubled down even more. Things got even worse once her mom married her stepdad, Negan. Per her mother's request, he installed security cameras in the front of house and the backyard to ensure she couldn't sneak out. And the few times she tried, she failed, because Negan would be up late, playing video games in the living room or smoking a cigarette in the backyard by the poolside, making it impossible for her to sneak out. She was so miserable, watching everyone have fun over the summer before college while she wasted away in her room with her only entertainment being behind a screen or imbedded in the pages of a book.

It was so unfair. Especially because she knew tonight was gonna be the party of the year. One of the rich girls in her graduating class was throwing a pool party at her mansion, her mansion which housed one of the best pools she'd ever seen. And somehow, she was lucky enough to be invited. This was an opportunity of a lifetime and if it meant being grounded for an eternity, so be it.

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She had one foot out her bedroom window when she heard a knock on her door.

"Hey kid, can I come in?" her stepdad, Negan's, voice called from the other side of the door.

"One sec, I'm not decent!" she fibbed as she stumbled back inside her room. She shut the window as silently it would go before she slipped under the covers of her bed, hiding the fact she had on nothing but a tropical, triangle bikini.

"Okay, you can come in now," she called out. Negan let himself in, glancing around her room suspiciously. She couldn't help but notice how handsome he looked with his glasses resting on the bridge of his nose, tattoos peeking out from beneath his white t-shirt, and obvious outline of his dick through his gray sweatpants that hung low on his waist. Despite being hidden beneath her sheets and comforter, she felt vulnerable and naked beneath his skeptical gaze.

"You're not plannin' on sneakin' out, are ya?" he asked, tongue seductively swiping across his bottom lip. She nervously swallowed, heat blossoming across her cheeks.

"N-no, why?" came her shaky reply.

"You are a shit liar, kid," he laughed, a handsome smirk on his face.

"Why would I sneak out? There's nothing for me to out there anyway," she doubled down, not feeding into his bait. He stalked closer to her bed before sitting down at the foot of it, hazel eyes boring into her soul.

"So you're not going to that pool party happening right now?" The tone of his voice was sarcastic, hinting that he didn't believe a word coming from her mouth.

"Pool party? What pool party?" She punctuated her question with a fake yawn to try and convince Negan that she really was tired and ready to go to bed for the night.

"If you say so, kid. Just know that if I catch your lying ass sneaking out tonight, you'll be in for a world of hell when I punish you." Her thighs involuntarily squeezed together at his words and the action didn't go unnoticed by Negan. She nodded her head while silently praying he'd hurry up and leave so she can sneak out.

His eyes narrowed at her as he stood up. "Night, kiddo," he said, patting her knee through the comforter for good measure.

"Night, Negan!"

She continued laying in her bed, petrified, for another ten minutes until she heard the door to her mom's bedroom shut. Negan's words did manage to strike some fear into her, but not enough to deter her from her original plan. She was sure he was in bed now and falling asleep for the night. After silently sliding out of her bed, she tucked a few decorative pillows in her previous place in hope they'd fool Negan or her mom if they peek in to check on her.

Her hands were shaky when she re-opened her bedroom window. Nerves were finally getting to her. She could hear her heart beating rapidly in her ears as she began having second thoughts about doing this. Negan was nowhere near as strict as her mom, so his punishment couldn't actually that bad. Not that she'd actually have to worry about his punishment, because she wasn't gonna get caught.

She crept out of her window and stepped onto the roof. She closed her window, only leaving it slightly ajar so she could get back inside later. Careful not to slip on the roof's slippery shingles, she tiptoed to the edge and looked over at the space from here to the grassy ground. Too late to go back now. She sat on the ledge and turned herself around so she could hang from the ledge before dropping into the soft grass.

She looked back at the house, elated she was finally out and what fun was about to come

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The dark morning sky was slowly beginning to turn into a lighter blue as she clumsily climbed the trellis back onto the second story's roof. Her slightly intoxicated brain made it so her movements weren't as agile and quiet like before. She lifted her window open and unceremoniously fell inside, smacking the carpeted flooring with her face.

The first thing she noticed was the potent smell of tobacco followed by his signature whistling.

"Aw, fuck," she groaned to herself. She heard the springs of her mattress release as Negan got up and soon his socked feet came into her view. He reached out a hand and helped her up after she gratefully accepted it.

He looked pissed. His thick eyebrows settled into a frown and his hazel-green eyes were devoid of any kindness. She nervously crossed her arms over her body, feeling naked under his gaze.

"How was the pool party?" he asked.

"I wasn't a-at a pool party!" she lied.

His look only darkened, making her weak in the knees. From fear or arousal, she couldn't tell.

"What kinda goddamn fuckin' idiot do you take me for? You are literally dripping wet and wearin' a damn bikini!" he pointed out the obvious.

"I was swimming in our own pool in the backyard!" she lied with such little conviction that she couldn't even fool herself

He stepped closer to her and if she wasn't already so close to the wall she'd have stepped back. She averted her gaze and chose to look at the chipped, bubblegum pink nail polish that adorned her toes. Negan wasn't having any of it, though, and forced her to look up at him by grabbing a fistful of her wet hair and tilting her head up. Hot tears pricked at the corners of her eyes.

"What did I tell you would happen if I caught you sneaking out?" he asked between clenched teeth.

"That...that you're gonna p-punish me..." The tears were streaming down her face now as she sniveled pathetically.

"Attagirl," he darkly praised, a sinister smirk spreading across his face. The slight praise caused her stomach to do backflips and her core to clench over nothing. Her face felt hot and her breathing shallowed as her only thoughts were what Negan would do next.

His grip on her hair stayed firm as he walked her over to her bed. He released his hold before taking a seat onto the plush mattress. She stood before him, nervously shifting her weight from foot to foot and nibbling the skin around her thumbnail, awaiting what was to come. His large, warm hands gripped her hips, pulling her to stand between his legs. She glanced down at him as he looked up at her, but her eyes drifted past his face and down to the bulge growing in his sweatpants. She was embarrassed to admit it, but her mouth watered at the sight.

"Now, I want you to know that this shit could have been avoided had your stubborn ass just listened to me," he stated, his grip on her hips growing firmer. She nodded her head, not knowing what to say and not wanting to anger her stepdad even further.

He pulled the ties on either side of her bikini bottoms and let the damp garment fall to the floor between her feet. She nervously bit her bottom lip and looked down at him, but he was too busy eyeing her cunt and soft thighs, which glimmered with the slick of her arousal. He looked up at her as he licked his bottom lip. He patted his thighs.

"Bend over my fuckin' knee, doll," he ordered. She warily obeyed, despite the humiliation of having him see her bare, wet pussy. His roughish hands caressed the soft flesh of her ass, admiring the mounds. Without warning, his hand came down harshly on her right cheek, earning a yelp from her.

"Keep it down," he hissed before landing an even harsher slap to her other cheek. She only whimpered this time, pursing her lips to fight the noises that yearned to escape. He continued his assailment on her ass, leaving it stinging with numbness. Her whimpers turned into a mixture of sobs and wanton moans which only tightened his pants. By the looks of it, he wasn't the only one getting off to this punishment. Her cunt sparkled with her arousal, arousal which was leaking down her thighs.

"Negan, please!" she begged. Her thighs were clenched together as she tried to rub her aching clit on his thigh.

"What is it that you want, baby?" he questioned. His big hands kneaded at her squishy flesh. He knew damn well what she wanted, but he wanted to hear her beg. Her weeping pussy was practically begging to be stuffed with his big cock.

"Need you! Need to feel you inside me," she begged between sniffles and sobs. She stood up from being bent over his lap and sat on it, straddling him instead. His arms snaked around her waist and hers around his neck before she leaned down almost close enough to connect her lips to his.

"Please, Negan?" she whispered against his lips. His eyes flitted from hers down to her lips which were so close to his. Her eyes fluttered shut as she gently pressed her soft lips to his, his facial hair pricking at her skin. Negan could name a plethora of reasons why this would be wrong, but the one reason it felt right overpowered them all, so he grabbed the back of her head and crashed his lips against hers. The desperate moan she let out gave Negan the perfect opening to slip his tongue into her mouth. She tasted like some fruity cocktail that was really just a bunch of things mixed together by some inexperienced kid. He'd have to take her out for a real drink one day. His tongue traversed her mouth, consuming her. She desperately ground her bare pussy on his clothed bulge, eliciting pleasured groans from him. His hands felt up her body before untying her bikini top from the back and the neck, leaving her completely bare on his lap.

"Please, Negan, I need to feel you," she begged after pulling away from the kiss. His eyes were glued to her tits, watching them as her chest rose and fell while she caught her breath. He cupped them in his hands before giving them a squeeze. Her head fell back as she let out a wanton moan. The rough skin of his fingertips gave her hardened nipples some much needed friction as he rolled them between his thumb and forefinger.

"You got some nice fuckin' tits, babydoll," he complimented, only making her wetter.

Her hands slid down his chest, then torso, then stopped at the waistband of his pants.

"Neeegaaan," she impatiently whined.

"Well, baby, if you want it, go ahead and fuckin' take it." His dimpled smile almost brought her to her release right then and there. He lifted his hips so she could pull his cock free. His length audibly smacked his abdomen, the tip an angry, flaming red and leaking with precum. If her core wasn't aching so badly, she'd have gladly taken him down her throat. She took him in her hand. He was so big that her fingers didn't even touch. She stroked him a few times as he sucked bruising marks onto her neck and collarbones. He held onto her hips as she lined him up with her sopping center, stroking him along her slick folds before sinking all the way down on him. The stretch was there, but not painful because she was so wet and ready for him.

"Negan, you feel so good!" she moaned once he bottomed out inside of her. Her nails dug little crescent moons into his skin through his shirt as she began bouncing on his cock. He admired her tits bouncing as she rode him before pulling her closer and taking one in his mouth, kneading the other with his free hand.

The squelching sounds of her wet pussy and the smell off sex permeating her bedroom only made things more erotic. Negan was hitting every spot perfectly, but he wanted more. He freed her tit from his mouth before flipping their position. Her back was now laying against the bed and Negan stood over her, his cock still inside. Now that he had more control, his thrusts came harder and faster, his tip almost kissing her cervix.

"Goddammit, doll, you were made for my cock!" he praised. More profanities and moans fell from his mouth as her wet, spongy walls squeezed his cock. Her moans were growing louder and louder, making Negan worry that they might wake up her mom...who was his wife.

"I know that my dick is the best damn dick you've had and ever will have in your entire goddamn life, but you need to keep it down," he lectured. She rolled her eyes but pursed her lips in a feeble attempt to keep quiet.

They were both close to reaching their peaks and it was obvious by the way his thrusts grew rushed and sloppy and how her cunt was squeezing him.

"I'm gonna-" her sentence was cut off by a scream of ecstasy which caused Negan to cover her loud mouth with his palm. Her cunt squeezed him as her back arched off the bed and eyes rolled to the back of her head while she came. If he was thinking straight, he'd have left her high and dry as punishment, but his own orgasm was close and he'd be damned if he didn't cum. She removed his hand from covering her mouth and took two of his long, thick fingers into her mouth.

"Ho-ly fuckin' shit!" He swore, marveling at the sight. She hollowed her cheeks as she sucked on the digits.

"That's. My. Girl!" he praised with each thrust.He pulled out of her just as his orgasm came over him and shot his load onto her tits and stomach. He flopped onto the bed beside her and she rolled into his strong arms.

"Y'know I can't stay, gotta get back to your mom before she wakes up."

"Just ten more minutes?" she begged, looking up at Negan with those doe eyes of hers.

He sighed and lightheartedly rolled his eyes.

"Anything for my babydoll."

thank you for reading! if you have any feedback on how i can improve, i'd love to hear it!

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fear-is-truth · 21 days

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Hi :) would you mind writing the Evans reactions to reader flinching away from them (possibly due to trauma?) ?

Btw ur like- one of my most fav writing blogs, and congrats on getting into law school! (Is it too late to say that? oh well, be proud of yourself!)

𝜗ϱ ┆ REACTIONS TO YOUR PAST TRAUMA .ᐟ

── THE EVANs ‧ h e a d c a n o n s ೃ࿐

ft. tate ‧ kit ‧ pre/post death kyle ‧ james ‧ pre cult & cult leader kai

⟣ TAGS ‧ SFW | gn! reader | tw: implied past trauma

a/n: ahhh thank you so much pookie !! ima study hard this semester fr >:)

⟢ 𝐓𝐀𝐓𝐄 𝐋𝐀𝐍𝐆𝐃𝐎𝐍.

the second you flinch, Tate’s reaction is pure shock. eyes widening, breath catching in his throat. his voice drops immediately, softening into a near whisper as he tries to process what just happened. he’s confused by why you’re reacting this way.

first thing he does is to apologise—over and over again, without even knowing what he did wrong. his voice is shaky as he tries to reach out to you, but he hesitates, afraid that you’ll flinch again. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to… Please don’t be scared of me,”

after you’ve explained to him, Tate’s self-blame kicks in hard—he starts thinking that he’s just like the people who’ve hurt you in the past, and that thought is unbearable.

he moves slowly, carefully, as if you’re a porcelain that could shatter at any moment. Tate sits down beside you, not touching you unless you make the first move. he wants to reassure you, but he’s also painfully aware that words alone might not be enough. “i’d never hurt you, you know that, right?” he’d murmur, his voice breaking slightly as he searches your face for any sign that you believe him.

his protectiveness towards you intensifies after this. he feels a strong need to shield you from anything that might hurt you, whether it’s memories of your past or potential threats in the present. becomes a bit more possessive, but it stems from a deep-seated fear of seeing you hurt again.

Tate will occasionally seek reassurance from you, needing to hear that you don’t see him as a threat, that you still trust him despite what happened. it’s not that he doubts your feelings for him—it’s his own insecurities and fear of losing you because of his own actions.

⟢ 𝐊𝐈𝐓 𝐖𝐀𝐋𝐊𝐄𝐑.

Kit is a naturally gentle and caring person, so seeing you react that way instantly puts him on high alert. he’ll stop whatever he was doing, his focus entirely on you.

he takes a step back, giving you some space, but his eyes are still locked on you, searching for any signs of distress. “hey, it’s okay. i’m not mad at you,” he says quietly, wanting to reassure you that you’re safe with him.

if you’re sitting down, he’ll crouch down to your level, making himself less intimidating.

even though he knows he didn’t mean to scare you, Kit would still the need to apologise. “i’m so sorry if i scared you. i’d never want to hurt you,” he’ll be more upset with himself than with you.

Kit is no stranger to trauma, having been through hell himself. he’ll immediately empathise with whatever you’re going through, and won’t press you to talk about it right away. but he’ll make it clear that he’s there to listen whenever you’re ready.

⟢ pre death .ᐟ 𝐊𝐘𝐋𝐄 𝐒𝐏𝐄𝐍𝐂𝐄𝐑.

will take full responsibility for making you flinch, even if it was unintentional. “i didn’t mean to get so loud, i’m sorry,” he admits, running a hand through his hair, upset with himself for causing you distress.

when you’re feeling more comfortable, he’ll gently encourage you to talk about what happened. he won’t push, but he wants to understand so he can avoid triggering you in the future.

whether it’s being careful about his tone or steering clear of certain topics, he’ll be hyper-aware of how his actions might affect you and will adjust his behaviour accordingly.

Kyle will learn to become very attuned to your emotional state, noticing even the smallest changes in your mood. if he senses that something is bothering you, he’ll gently ask about it.

⟢ franken .ᐟ 𝐊𝐘𝐋𝐄 𝐒𝐏𝐄𝐍𝐂𝐄𝐑

the second you flinch, Kyle’s face will crumple with sadness. his eyes will fill with hurt, and he’ll look down at his hands, wondering if he’s done something wrong. “i’m sorry…” he mumbles.

Kyle’s own trauma and his experience after being brought back to life will make him more childlike in his confusion. he’ll struggle to understand why you appeared scared, and his confusion will be written all over his wide-eyed expression.

if you seem uncomfortable, he’ll physically retreat, giving you space and trying to make himself smaller. he’ll take a step back or even move to a different part of the room, his shoulders hunched as if trying to disappear.

⟢ 𝐉𝐀𝐌𝐄𝐒 𝐏𝐀𝐓𝐑𝐈𝐂𝐊 𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐂𝐇.

for a brief moment, a flash of genuine hurt flashes across his features. James prides himself on being a gentleman, and the idea that you might fear him is both insulting and wounding.

he’ll quickly mask his shock with a tight smile, but the coldness in his eyes will give away his true feelings. “my dear, whatever could have caused you to react so… dramatically?” his tone is polite, but there’s an undercurrent of offense, as if your fear were an affront to his dignity.

James’s concern is more possessive rather than empathetic. he’ll cup your chin, tilting your head up to meet his gaze. “has someone hurt you before, my love? tell me who it was, and i shall ensure they never see the light of day again.” and he’s not even joking.

he will turn the situation around to make you feel guilty for doubting him. “it wounds me deeply that you could think i’d harm you, my dear,” he’ll say with a sigh, voice heavy with feigned sadness. “i have done nothing but shower you with affection, and yet you flinch as if i’m some sort of brute.”

he’ll this incident as an excuse to subtly isolate you from anyone he views as a “threat” to your relationship. “i think it would be best if you spent less time with others and more time here, where i can ensure your safety,”

⟢ pre cult .ᐟ 𝐊𝐀𝐈 𝐀𝐍𝐃𝐄𝐑𝐒𝐎𝐍.

given his background with his abusive father, he’ll immediately feel a wave of shame wash over him, fearing that he’s becoming like the man he despises. “i didn’t mean to yell,” he mumbles, almost to himself, as if trying to convince himself that he’s not like his father. this moment will haunt him as he worries about his own potential for violence.

⟢ cult leader .ᐟ 𝐊𝐀𝐈 𝐀𝐍𝐃𝐄𝐑𝐒𝐎𝐍.

when you flinch, Kai’s eyes will narrow, his expression hardening. for a split second, he’s taken aback, but that shock quickly turns into annoyance. he’s not used to you showing fear around him—at least, not fear he hasn’t deliberately instilled. the fact that you flinched without him intending to provoke it will irritate him.

he will be to turn this moment to his advantage. he sees your reaction as a potential weakness, something he can use to exert more control over you. he won’t show concern in the traditional sense; instead, he’ll start to test the boundaries of your fear. (yeah he’s a pretty effed up dude)

later, he will subtly test your boundaries, raising his voice or making sudden movements to see if you flinch again. he’ll watch your reactions closely, noting every detail, using it to gauge just how much control he has over you. if you flinch again, he’ll smirk, filing that away as a tool to use.

if he senses that you’re genuinely distressed, he might soften his approach, but only slightly. “you know i’d never hurt you… unless you deserved it,” his words carefully chosen to keep you on edge. this isn’t a genuine reassurance—it’s a way to keep you uncertain and dependent on his approval.

Kai will quickly twist the situation to make it seem like your reaction is the problem, not his behavior. “you’re being ridiculous,” shaking his head as if disappointed in you. “i’m the only one who really understands you. don’t you see that? you’re safe with me, safer than with anyone else.” he’ll use this to reinforce the idea that you need him, that any fear you feel is irrational unless he says otherwise.

#american horror story #kai anderson #evan peters #ahs cult #kai anderson x reader #tate langdon #kai anderson x y/n #james patrick march #kit walker #ahs #tate langdon x reader #tate langdon x y/n #kyle spencer #kit walker x y/n #kit walker x reader #jpm x reader #kyle spencer x y/n #kyle spencer x reader #⟡ jackie ─ writings

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dvhuwr · 1 year

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Genshin Impact - NSFW Pantalone Alphabet Head Canons !!

Pairing: AMAB Pantalone + AFAB Reader

Synopsis + Information: NSFW Pantalone Head Canons for every letter of the Alphabet.

Tags: Mentions of Sex, Cream pie, BDSM, Uneven Power Dynamic, Rough Sex, Anal, CNC, Mentions of innocence and vulnerability, Overstimulation, Fingering, Fellatio, Cunnilingus, Edging, Quickies, Dirty Talk, Lap Dance, Face Fucking, Free Use, Pet Name “Princess”

Minors do not interact with my account or this post! Enjoy!

A = Aftercare (What they’re like after the act). As one of the wealthiest individuals in Teyvat, Pantalone never fails to spoil you. He takes great pleasure in rewarding you with expensive and lavish gifts including jewellery and designer clothing. This is his way of showing appreciating and love for you after having sex. Due to the nature of your sex, he also checks up on you, to see if you’re okay and if there’s anything you may need.

B = Body part (Their favourite Body part). He absolutely adores your face. Whilst he, of course, likes your body, there’s nothing better than seeing the lewd faces you make whilst he shoves his cock deep into your pussy.

C = Cum (Anything cum related). Pantalone enjoys finishing inside of you, he likes watching his seed drip down your cunt, he finds it very erotic. He also enjoys finishing inside of you to reduce the mess, plus, he believes finishing ‘on’ you is tacky.

D = Dirty Secret (A dirty secret of theirs). He is very turned on by BDSM. He has a vast collection of bondage, ropes, whips and other various ‘toys’ that could be used in the BDSM department. He loves seeing your moans of pain, it makes him feel like he has power over you, and that you’re his own personal toy.

E = Experience (How experienced are they?). Very. He knows exactly what he’s doing. As a wealthy and influential figure in Teyvat, there is no surprise that he has had his fair share of encounters with women.

F = Favourite Position (Favourite sex position). Pantalone is a very busy man, dealing with Snezhnaya’s economy and so forth. Therefore, a commonly used position is doggy on his work desk. Whenever he feels the urge to, he will pull you to the side and bend you over his desk, and without warning, he will thrust into your pussy whilst tightly gripping the back of your hair. It’s quick and get’s the job done, as most days he doesn’t have time for drawn out intercourse. It also makes him feel powerful; being able to pull you to the side and force you to take his cock from behind.

G = Goofy (Are they more serious in the moment or are they humorous). No. Pantalone is not someone who jokes around, especially during sex. If you ever try to joke around with him, he will make sure to punish you accordingly.

H = Hair (How groomed are they down there). He believes self-care is of utmost importance, especially down there. He is completely shaved and keeps up with this daily.

I = Intimacy (How are they during the moment, the romantic aspect). He can be romantic when he feels it is appropriate; in fact, Pantalone can be very romantic, taking you out to fancy dinners and buying you expensive and beautiful bouquets of flowers. But don’t be fooled, as soon as he gets you into bed, he’ll be rough, demanding and dominant.

J= Jack off (Masturbation). He doesn’t masturbate, he believes masturbation is ‘tacky’. He knows he can pull you to the side any time he wants and fuck you senseless; therefore, masturbation is of no use to him.

K = Kink (One or more of their kinks). He has many. He mostly indulges in CNC and BDSM. He loves the feeling of forcing himself onto you, and being as rough as he pleases. Panting heavily whilst he’s hunched over you, thrusting into your ass whilst you moan his name and tell him to stop.

L = Location (Favourite places to have sex). Pantalone believes having sex in public is tacky and stays away from such, especially since his reputation is of value to him. Therefore, the bedroom tends to do the job, especially since that’s where he keeps his collection of sexual ‘toys’. However, he is a busy man who is constantly working at his desk, and he won’t be afraid to bend you over his desk and rail you from behind when he feels like it.

M = Motivation (What turns them on, gets them going). Whenever he sees you looking vulnerable and innocent, it turns him on greatly. He also just plays off of instinct as well; he has a high sex drive so, whenever he has the urge to have sex, he’ll drag you toward him and slam you onto his desk before fucking you like there’s no tomorrow.

N = No (Turn offs, things you shouldn’t do). He is not open to you not taking him seriously, and if he can sense you joking around this will frustrate him. Additionally, any sort of public sex or threesomes are completely off the table for Pantalone; he feels as if these activities are for ‘low lives’ and are ‘tacky’.

O = Oral (Preferences, skill). He enjoys face fucking you, watching the beautiful mess he creates all over your face. But he can’t help but eat out your cunt. Eating pussy is something he is extremely skilled at; he’ll suck on your clit while sliding his fingers in and out of your cunt until your dripping wet and begging him to keep going. And, when he feels like it, he’ll edge you and stop as your about to cum, leaving your pussy twitching and pulsing for more. What a tease!

P = Pace (Are they fast, slow, rough or gentle?). His pacing can depend on the scenario. He can be slow or fast or rough or gentle. However, he almost always prefers starting off slightly slowly to tease you and leave you begging; then suddenly fucking you hard, rough and fast to overstimulate you.

Q = Quickies (Opinion on Quickies). He takes pleasure in having quickies with you, especially during his work hours. There’s something so perverted about swiping the contents of his desk to the floor and roughly slamming into your tight ass while he’s meant to be reading through tedious documents.

R= Risk (Are they game to experiment). Pantalone cares too much about his reputation to take risks during sex, especially if it’s public sex. Being caught in such a degenerate act is the last thing he wants and needs.

S = Stamina (How many rounds can they last for, how long do they last?). Long. Not only can he go for a while without finishing, but he also has the stamina and endurance to go for plenty of rounds. He can really go for hours if you let him, though you probably wouldn’t be able to walk afterwards.

T = Toy (Do they own toys or use them?). He loves using toys on you. As mentioned before, Pantalone has a vast collection of whips, toys, ropes, paddles and so forth that he takes pleasure in using. His favourite are the ropes; he likes tying your wrists and ankles together so there’s no chance you can escape him, even if you beg him to stop. The whines of pain and over stimulation are sounds that can make him cum in a matter of seconds.

U = Unfair (How much do they tease?). Pantalone takes great enjoyment from teasing you, it makes him feel dominant and powerful. He’ll swirl his tongue around your clit whilst thrusting his fingers into you, gradually increasing the speed till’ you’re about to cum. But then, he stops. He’ll leave your pussy pulsing and you begging for more, and he won’t continue until he feels like you’ve done an adequate amount of begging. Watching how desperate you get for him is a massive turn on.

V = Volume (How loud are they, what sounds do they make?). He isn’t very loud. He’ll breathe heavily and lightly moan whilst thrusting into you, but he definitely isn’t loud. However, if he’s dirty talking you, he may raise his voice slightly, to make sure you can understand every single word he’s saying to you. “Look at me brat, look at me while I shove my cock into your little cunt,” he’ll demand of you.

W = Wild Card (A random NSFW Head canon of choice). Pantalone loves lap dances. Quite frequently he’ll ask you to dress up for him and show him some dance moves. He’ll even throw money at you to treat you as if you were a stripper; then once his cock starts leaking in his pants, he’ll push you to your knees and face fuck you relentlessly.

X = X-Ray (What’s inside his pants?). Pantalone may have a cute and innocent smile, but don’t let this deceive you, he really is packing down there. Measuring out at 7 inches, his cock can really do some damage if he isn’t careful. But sometimes the pain feels too good.

Y = Yearning (Sex Drive). He may be a busy man, but this doesn’t affect his extremely high sex drive. He just can’t help but thinking about fucking your tight asshole, he loves it. Furthermore, the fact that you’re pretty much always available for him to ‘use’ makes it easier for him to act on his thoughts, rather than suppress them.

Z = ZZZ (How quickly do they fall asleep after sex?). No; he’s too busy for that. Once he’s done with you, he’ll usually leave to continue his work. He’ll check up on you after sex and make sure you’re okay and he’ll remind you, “If there’s anything you want, tell the maids. Oh, and also, I’ve left some Mora on the bedside table, go treat yourself if needs be Princess.”

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kentopedia · 8 months

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❝𝐖𝐄 𝐀𝐑𝐄 𝐀𝐋𝐋 𝐅𝐎𝐎𝐋𝐒 𝐈𝐍 𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄❞ welcome to kentopedia's love through the ages collab. in honor of another lonely valentine’s day, i wanted to combine my two greatest loves: history and literature! so this is for anyone who wants a passionate romance and loves the aesthetics of the past. because i know that no matter when you live and die, your favs will always choose you ♡

STATUS: CLOSED

♛ — TO JOIN

submit a piece based off a time in history you find interesting. it can be an au of your favorite classic novel, a song you enjoy from a period before your own, a piece of art you enjoy, or something entirely your own. be creative!!

please reblog this post & send me an ask with the character you'd like to write about and the inspiration. for example: "nanami + renaissance" (which is what i’ll be writing teehee).

♛ — REQUIREMENTS

no fandom limitation, but i will cap it off at 2 entries per character (i won’t count mine in that limit!). and you can join as many times as you want.

this is a historical au collab, so i will not accept any submissions based in the 21st century :) but it can go back as far as you want!

there is no deadline. minimum of 500 words, but no maximum. i love long fics! please use the read more feature on your posts.

♛ — OTHER

anyone can join, this is not limited to followers. no age requirement, but you must be 18+ to submit nsfw pieces, with an age indicator. make sure to follow the rules of all creators involved (including me!).

submissions can be as historically accurate or inaccurate as you want them to be, and could include fantasy elements too! this is all about capturing the aesthetics of a time period, but i will never limit anyone’s creativity. it can be extremely niche too!

all forms of art are welcome, not just writing, as long as they are of your own creation.

nsfw, sfw, dark content, etc. is all acceptable. be sure to tag accordingly!

♛ — TO SUBMIT

tag me in your submission so i can also add you to the masterlist. also, link this post on your submission to spread the love to other readers! i will be reading all the submissions and reblogging with feedback as well. let me know if you have any questions!

bungo stray dogs . . .

nakahara chuuya and post wwii yakuza by @cheriiyaya

nakahara chuuya and the 1800s italian mafia by @osaemu

dazai osamu & fyodor dostoevsky as rival painters in the renaissance by @aureatchi

dazai osamu & fyodor dostoevsky in the trojan war by @fyorina

fyodor dostoevsky and victorian era royalty by @verlainepaul

dazai osamu as a fallen angel by @chuuyrr

jujutsu kaisen . . .

nanami kento and the renaissance by @kentopedia

okkotsu yuta as an edo period samurai by @anqelically

gojo satoru & geto suguru and the medieval period by @flowerpersephone

geto suguru as a nineteenth century vampire by @todorokies

nanami kento and the victorian era by @starsinmylatte

gojo satoru and orpheus and eurydice by @forest-hashira

geto suguru and the american old west by @forest-hashira

geto suguru and phantom of the opera by @mynahx3

geto suguru and ancient greece by @mochimooon

nanami kento and the heian period by @purpleqilinwrites

fushiguro toji as a medieval bandit by @honeybleed

true form sukuna ryomen and ancient greece by @girlwithsharpt33th

okkotsu yuuta and post apocalyptic 1600s by @atsquie

nanami kento as a medieval knight by @mynahx3

nanami kento and the regency period by @kentopedia

nanami kento and ancient japan by @mynahx3

attack on titan . . .

reiner braun as a wwii soldier by @thel0v3hashira143

levi ackerman and the impressionist era by @be-co-me

armin arlert and the early 20th century by @crazychaoticizzy

eren jaeger and the age of piracy by @bloompompom

demon slayer . . .

shinazugawa sanemi and antony & cleopatra by @mitsuristoleme

tengen uzui and the roaring 20s by @forest-hashira

haikyuu . . .

kuroo tetsurō and the space race by @ktsumu

kuroo tetsurō & iwaizumi hajime in regency era inspired japan by @jarjarwinx

persona 5 . . .

akira kurusu and the prohibition era by @clubkira

genshin impact . . .

albedo as a renaissance artist by @clubkira

dainsleif in the greatest showman by @rubysm

blue lock . . .

noel noa and indonesian colonization by

#𝓵𝓸𝓿𝓮 𝓽𝓱𝓻𝓸𝓾𝓰𝓱 𝓽𝓱𝓮 𝓪𝓰𝓮𝓼 𝓬𝓸𝓵𝓵𝓪𝓫 ❤︎#painting in graphic romeo and juliet by frank dicksee :)#if no one joins … pretend u never saw this.#jjk x reader #aot x reader #csm x reader #jujutsu kaisen #attack on titan #haikyuu #x reader #jjk x you #aot x you #haikyuu x you #haikyuu x reader #bungo stray dogs x reader #bsd x reader #bsd #bllk x reader #bllk x you

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tsukimefuku · 7 days

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𝑺𝑷𝑶𝑶𝑲𝑰𝑵𝑲𝒀, 𝐀 𝐖𝐑𝐈𝐓𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐀𝐍𝐃 𝐀𝐑𝐓 𝐄𝐕𝐄𝐍𝐓 !

SPOOKINKY 🎃 HERE WE ARE…

This event took a while, but finally, the SPOOKINKY EVENT is up to properly celebrate Halloween.

🔮 WHAT IS THE SPOOKINKY EVENT?

Why do we love Halloween and October? Because of the spookies and kinktober. So in the vein of joining both, the Spookinky event is born, my own lil’ Frankenstein monster.

This event will be divided into two fronts, which you may have already guessed: the SPOOKY front and the KINKY front.

🔮 WHAT DO YOU MEAN BY SPOOKY AND KINKY?

For the SPOOKY part of the event, writers and artists can make any piece of work related to horror, terror, suspense, satire related to these genres and/or homage works to classic horror media like movies, games, series, animes, etc.

For the KINKY part of the event, in the vein of kinktober, you can let your imagination run wild with those kinky thoughts and submit NSFW pieces featuring any kink you’d like.

🔮 WHAT IF I WANT TO MAKE A KINKY PIECE WITH THE SPOOKIES IN IT?

I haven’t forgotten about our monsterf friends <3 It shall be featured under SPOOKINKY submissions.

🔮 WHAT CAN BE SUBMITTED?

Fanfiction or original fiction; Fanart or original art; all of them as original tumblr posts tagged as explained below.

🔮 WHAT FANDOMS ARE COVERED?

Jujutsu Kaisen, My Hero Academia, and Heaven Official’s Blessings.

🔮 HOW DO I PARTICIPATE AND SUBMIT MY WORKS?

This is a Tumblr-only event.

For writers: send me a DM or Ask informing what you intend to write (provisional title, fandom for fanfiction pieces, characters and/or pairing). Ex.

Witchy business - Jujutsu Kaisen (Momo x Mai)

Good night - Original work (Vampire x Reader)

All writers works will get provisionally listed down below. When you post it, don’t forget to tag me (@tsukimefuku) and add the tag #Spookinky2024.

For artists: just submit your piece of artwork with a title until the deadline. Also don’t forget to tag me (@tsukimefuku) and add the tag #Spookinky2024.

🔮 WHEN IS THE DEADLINE?

October 31st.

🔮 WHAT HAPPENS AFTER THE EVENT ENDS?

This event will generate a MASTERLIST with all the fanfiction/original fiction and artwork submitted.

🔮 BASIC RULES

1. You have to be +18 to participate;

2. This deadline is not fatal but once I post the final masterlist, I won’t be changing/updating it;

3. Gore, blood, guts and everything spooky is allowed, however, tag your work accordingly. For writers, do it at the beginning of your post. For artists, do it in the post’s tags.

That’s it, my ghosties. Let’s have some treats and trickeries. ✨

SPOOKY 👻

KINKY 🌶️

SPOOKINKY 🔮

Don’t cry. It’ll kill the mood. - Kenjaku x Reader x Sukuna (Jujutsu Kaisen) by @quinnyundertow

She drove herself to madness with a silver spoon. - Werewolf!Kusakabe x Witch!Reader (Jujutsu Kaisen) by @tsukimefuku

They Corrupt - Jujutsu Kaisen (Demon!Nanami x Angel!Reader) by @mysteria157

By the Gnashing of my Teeth - Jujutsu Kaisen (Wendigo! inspired Reader x Nanami Kento) by @rahuratna Part 1 | Part 2 (soon)

Hey Wolfmoon - My Hero Academia (Werewolf!Toshinori x Werewolf!Fem!Reader) by @actuallysaiyan

Crimsoned - Jujutsu Kaisen (Nanami x Reader vampire AU) by @pmpmyread

Dividers by @saradika-graphics

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laura1633 · 3 months

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Hey Guys,

I said I would set a small fic challenge up for Lestappen's birthdays so here it is. I'm not going to set up a separate blog for it as it is just going to be a casual low key thing and it will be easier for me to manage from my main blog so I will just pin this note. It's going to be absolute complete chaos to start with as I have no idea how to do things or how it works so please be patient as things inevitably go wrong!

Dates and Guidelines are all below, this will outline how to submit a prompt as well as details about how to fill a prompt.

Key Dates: Submitting prompts: 2nd July - 16th July Claiming prompts: 2nd July - 16th October Posting finished works : 30th Sept - 16th October.

Guidelines for submitting a prompt 1. Prompts can be submitted by following this link and clicking on the 'Prompt Form' on the left hand side (you will need an ao3 account to do this) 2. All prompts must be centred around Lestappen (although it doesn't necessarily mean it has to be a romantic relationship). 3. Prompts can include as many other characters as you like (including other drivers, team principles, other sports stars etc) as long as the focus is on Max and Charles. As an example, you can prompt a poly relationship for Max, Charles and Oscar and Oscar can feature prominently as long as both Max and Charles also play a central role to the story, this is a Lestappen fest after all! 4. You can prompt fluff or smut or anything else you can think of. If your prompt contains sensitive topics then please try and use the tags accordingly when prompting. 5. Prompts are preset to be anonymous. There is a box at the bottom of the prompt form that states 'Semi-anonymous Prompt?' leave this box ticked to keep your prompt anonymous. 6. You will need an ao3 account to submit using the steps above. If you don't have an ao3 account but would still like to submit a prompt then please send an ask to me but clearly label it "Lestappen Birthday Fest prompt". If its not labelled I won't know that it is a prompt. Please try and limit the number of prompts sent through asks as I think I will be limited in the amount I am able to add to ao3. Once I hit the limit I will update here.

Guidelines for claiming a prompt 1. The prompts can be found here and you are free to claim them as soon as you want. You do not need to wait for the prompt window to close before claiming your prompts. 2. Feel free to claim as many prompts as you feel you will be able to complete. There are no consequences to not fulfilling a prompt but it’s better not to over claim if you know you won’t have the time to fulfil them. 3. The claims and fills are not set to anonymous so it will show that you have claimed the prompt. However, there are no consequences whatsoever in claiming a prompt and then having to drop it. 4. It is fine to claim a prompt someone else has already claimed. You can also claim your own prompts.

Guidelines for filling a prompt 1. You can fulfil your claim at any time but the collection will be set as unrevealed until the 30th September so your fic will not go live until the 30th September. This also means you can go into your work and edit it right up until 30th September. 2. When completing your work on ao3 there is an option that states 'Set a different publication date' so I would suggest setting the date as 30th September. 3. Whilst the collection will go live on 30th September (Max's birthday) you can keep fulfilling your claims right up until the 16th October (Charles' Birthday) 4. Please make sure you tag your works in regards to sensitive topics. 5. Whilst the aim is to get at least some works posted in the period 30th Sept - 16th Oct I do recognise that if you are writing a longer fic you might need some more time and so I will leave the collection open for people to add to it after the 16th if this is necessary.

What if I want to submit my own piece of work rather than fill a prompt? The very first prompt on the page is a free prompt, you can claim this if you want to post your own piece of work to the collection. Does it have to be a fic? Absolutely not, you can post artwork too if you would like.

Still have questions? If you still have any questions then please feel free to send me an ask either anon or not. Please just be patient as I might not respond straight away, unfortunately I have a very boring job that also takes up my time!

There will be some issues at the start whilst I sort things out so we will just see how it all goes!

Remember it's all for fun with no pressure ❤️

#Lestappen #Lestappen fanfic

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xoxoavenger · 6 months

Text

How to Break a Heart

pairing: Luke Castellan x Fem!Aphrodite!Reader

summary: Y/N's mother gives her a deadline on when she needs to break her first love's heart, but Y/N isn't in love. Luckily Luke has a plan to fool the goddess; they'll pretend to be in love, and Y/N can break his heart. But these plans never go accordingly.

word count: 4341

warnings: betrayal, no comfort but there is still fluff for most of it

notes: luke castellan has taken over my life i have like 9 drafts so we'll see how this goes (i'm always scared to post for a new character so any love is appreciated greatly)

part 2

masterlist

"How did it go?" Luke asked as Y/N walked out of the Aphrodite cabin. Her mother had requested an IM with her, and Luke had waited outside for her. Y/N didn't look too happy, but she never did after a talk with her mom.

"She thinks it's time." Y/N said, and as much as he wished he could read her mind, he had no idea what she was talking about.

"For what?" He asks, following as she begins to walk into the woods. It's clear she just needs to be on a walk to be away from everyone else, but she's letting him tag along.

"She said it's an embarrassment that I'd become an adult and still hadn't broken my love's heart." She says. "But I haven't fallen in love with anyone yet, and I don't wanna break some innocent person's heart." She stops talking when they reach the river, sitting on the wet ground. He thinks about his pants real quick and then sits next to her, wanting to give her his support.

"She gave you a time limit?" Luke asks, knowing the answer. The Aphrodite kids didn't usually go on quests, but this was a quest of its own. She knew the gods couldn't resist making things more difficult.

"Yeah. Four months. As if I could fall in love with someone in that time, let alone here." She grabs a rock and throws it into the current, the splash barely touching them.

"Maybe you don't have to." Luke whispered, looking at her. She turned to him, brows furrowed as she rested her head against her bent knees.

"I don't think my mom is gonna let it slide any further than she already has. The truth is, I've been putting this off for years. She's wanted me to break some pour soul's heart for two years now. Every time she's visited me, it's always 'what about that Hephestas boy?' or 'that Apollo kid looks so nice now.' I don't wanna know what she'll do if I disobey." Y/N admits, taking a deep breath.

"That's not what I meant." Luke smirked, causing Y/N to frown.

"What are you talking about, then?" She asks, sitting up and looking at him face on.

"If we pretend that we're in love - I mean, put on a whole show that convinces the whole camp," Luke says it quietly, as if Aphrodite may be listening to them right now.

"Then I can 'break' your heart and please my mom without actually hurting anyone!" She says excitedly, watching as Luke nods. "You're a genius!" She cried, throwing her arms around Luke. She was so happy to have this weight lifted off her shoulders. He held her back, and it felt nice for a moment.

"So, what's the story?" Y/N asked, leaning back and pulling her knees up and leaning on them gently now, instead of hiding behind them.

"We just have to pretend to be dating. I invited you over here to ask you out, so we'll walk back to camp holding hands." He said it so simply, she just nodded.

"What about kissing? Won't they get suspicious?" She asked, making Luke chuckle.

"We can figure that out later." He told her, and she just nodded. "For now, we only have to convince our friends."

"And the olympians." She shrugged.

"Only your mom. The rest of them won't care." Luke told her, standing up. He reached out a hand to help her up, and she took it. He then switched hands to hold her's, interlacing their fingers. Y/N had held hands with many boys, being a daughter of Aphrodite, but for some reason Luke's felt different. She was holding the hand he used to fight with his sword, calloused but somehow smooth. She looked at him, and for a moment she wondered if this would work. It was crazy to lie to a god, even if the goddess was her mother. Could she really pretend to be in love and break his heart? Would they still be friends afterward?

Luke squeezed her hand and smiled, and she felt relief flow through her. If there was anyone who could pull this off, it was Luke.

"We got this." He told her, and she nodded.

They walked to camp, hand in hand, and Y/N knew immediately that this idea would work.

"Oh my God!" Her sister Silena called, immediately seeing Luke and Y/N. "Uh, I knew it!" And Y/N pushed down the urge to roll her eyes. She could have come out of the woods with anyone and Silena would have claimed to have seen it coming.

And just like that, everyone knew they were together.

For about a month, they got away with just hand holding, hanging out a little more than regular, going on a couple night walks. But on one of their night walks, Luke brought up what she had been thinking.

"We have to kick it up. If we want people to think we really fell in love in four months, we have to be inseparable." He told her.

"Silena has already caught on. We have to make it look like we got caught doing something." She had been thinking about it, not wanting to go there, but they both knew there was no way around this. They had to make it believable. Everyone had to believe them for this to work.

"The Hermes cabin." Luke nodded, but Y/N furrowed her brows.

"But your cabin is like, never empty." She told him, concerned.

"Anyone who finds us in the Hermes cabin will tell everyone immediately. And we will get found basically as soon as we're in there." He had definitely thought about this.

"We'll get in trouble." She tells him, looking to the side at the water.

"Us getting in trouble for getting caught in a cabin alone together?" He smirks, squeezing her hand. "Yeah, I'm sure your mom will be really angry." When she turned to him he was smiling, and she couldn't help but smile back.

"You're a genius." She almost kisses him, because that's what she would do in the situation, but then she remembered they're not actually dating. She was almost embarrassed, but then she realized.

"We can't do this without ramping our relationship up a bit." She tells him, and he thinks for a second. He turns to the trees, and the smile is on his face once more.

"The younger kids are watching." He whispered, making her blush. Of course their younger siblings would be watching their romantic walk. "If it's okay with you," He mutters stopping and turning to her. He takes her other hand. "I can kiss your cheek. Or we," She drops is hands and grabs his face, bringing his lips to hers. She knew they'd have to kiss in front of everyone sooner or later, and clearly Luke was freaking out a little bit. She felt his hands go to her torso, high above her waist but just a little below her bra line. It made her heart race just a little bit.

Their lips moved in tandem, much more than any first kiss she's ever had before. She forgot everything as one of her hands slipped from his face to his chest. One of his slipped to her lower back, the other going to the back of her head. They broke for one second to reposition, but for some reason it was too much for her. She curled her fingers into his orange Camp Half-Blood shirt and brought him closer once more. She could feel him smile as he curled his fingers in her hair to position her better.

All too quickly, they separated. Y/N blinked a couple times, trying to clear her brain.

"I think they got the hint." He tells her, and she could only stare at him and try to figure out what he just said.

"Yeah," She whispered, realizing he was talking about their rouse. Of course, the only reason they had kissed was to get the camp talking. "They'll definitely be talking about that."

She didn't want to think about how upset she was, or why she was upset. This was fake - everything with Luke was fake.

"We should head back before Chiron comes and puts us on probation or something." She said, watching him nod. She let him lead her back to her cabin, where he gave her a kiss and a wink outside her door.

She was in trouble.

The next day, they met up to watch the kids make friendship bracelets. Luke had already made a deal with Travis, and no one noticed when the two left.

"We have a couple minutes until everyone comes in." He tells her, and she nods. He walks over to his bed, the single one in the corner of the huge cabin. Y/N has never seen it completely empty, and when she looks around it seems too quiet.

"How do you wanna," She mutters, heart pounding. She's nervous, and it's obvious.

"Hey," His voice is quiet, and she looks over at him. "We don't have to do anything that you don't wanna do." His hand goes to her har, pushing her hair out of her face a little bit. She had to force herself not to look away.

"We have to." She mutters, a sad frown on her face. They both knew she didn't have a choice for this.

"But we can just get caught alone." He assures her, sitting back on his bed. Y/N stays where she is.

"No, it has to be more. We have to convince everyone." She is convincing herself too, that she has to do this. She doesn't go on quests, and this isn't even courageous. This is something her siblings do for fun. She can do it for her mother.

"Okay," He tells her, grabbing her hands. She's about to ask how they should be set up, but then there's footsteps on the stairs. Before she can think, she practically pounces on Luke. She's straddling him, pressing him against the bed. Their hands became untangled and his go to her waist, lower than their first kiss. She hears the door open, and her heart freezes.

What are they doing?

Before she can mess up the entire plan, Luke leans up and presses their lips together. She doesn't know what to do with her hands, just letting them hold her up while Luke's venture under her shirt.

"Oh my gods!" Y/N and Luke separate with wide eyes. They were planning on getting caught, but not by her.

"Annabeth?" Luke whispers, turning to see his sister in the doorway, hand over her eyes.

"Shit," Y/N curses, getting up. She realizes her shirt is all scrunched, so she pulls it down.

"What a weird camp." The kid next to Annabeth says. Y/N notices him for the first time, a short kid that looked like he was enjoying this drama. He has to be new, because she's never seen him around and definitely never with Annabeth.

"This is strange." Ananbeth crosses her arms and squints. Y/N feels like she can see right through them.

"Oh, Chiron is not gonna be happy." The kid says, smiling. Before Y/N can argue that neither of them would tell the centaur, he walks up behind them.

"That assumption would be correct, Mr. Jackson." She has to remind herself that this was the plan, that they wanted to get caught.

"Chiron," Y/N says, looking up at him as he walks into the wide door frame. Annabeth and the kid move to let him in, also showing Y/N and Luke the amount of people behind him, waiting to see the

"This is unexpected from you two." He says, and Y/N can feel herself second guessing this plan. She doesn't like to be scolded by Chiron. Luke grabs her hand as if he knew what she was thinking.

"We're sorry, Chiron." Luke started, taking a deep breath.

"But we're not kids anymore," Y/N starts, the confidence coming from no where. "And sometimes we need time on our own." She can feel everyone's eyes on her, including Luke's.

"We can talk about this in the Big House." Chiron was clearly peeved, but she knew he couldn't get that mad. Everyone knew why Luke and Y/N stayed even though they were the oldest campers; they would be dead in the real world.

"You're up to something." Annabeth says as everyone leaves.

"I'm always up to something." Luke smirks before looking at the new kid. "I'm Luke."

"I'm Percy." The kid says, looking over at Y/N.

"Y/N." She nods, a small smile on her face. She looked at Annabeth, who knew something was up. She had to ramp it up.

She put a hand on Luke's shoulder and kissed his cheek, squeezing his hand and leaving. It had to be enough for now.

As it turned out, Annabeth went on a quest a couple weeks later, so they didn't need to worry about convincing her. But Luke was practically sick with worry for her wellbeing, and Y/N wasn't much better. Her deadline was coming up, and she was actually dreading it.

She was enjoying Luke's presence, enjoying the touches and the attention. She knew it was her mother's powers making her feel this way, but part of it was just her. She actually looked forward to waking up and going to see Luke. She thought about the night that they had fallen asleep in the warm sand, his chest cushioning her head. His arms were around her, and when they were caught in the morning she didn't even care about Chiron's second warning. Luke had snuck them desert anyway.

It helped calm her down from worrying about the kids on a quest, the fate of which would in turn decide the fate of Camp Half-Blood. She hated the feeling of war in the air, the campers fighting. Luke's comfort helped that situation as well. He would always grab her close, making her anxiety calm down and her mind quiet. She had taken to hanging out with him away from everyone's eyes, aside from plans to get caught. They would lay in the strawberry fields, looking at the clouds. Sometimes she would fall asleep, giving away the fact that she couldn't sleep in her own bed at night. As soon as Luke realized this, he made the Aphrodite cabin swear to secrecy when he would sneak in. They were great at keeping secrets when it helped their sister's love life, and her health. She had gotten so used to Luke sleeping in her bed, it was weird to think there was a time when he wasn't.

The first time it happened, she had almost jumped out of her skin.

It was right before the kids left, when everyone started to get uneasy about the Lightning Bolt. She had made a random comment that day when her and Luke were sitting on the dock, because she was too tried from her lack of sleep. They had been 'dating' for two months now, and even before she would tell him these things as his best friend. She had almost fallen asleep with her head resting against his shoulder, and he had shaken her awake. She stumbled to her cabin, not even wanting to tell her siblings about the night, but she couldn't sleep.

Everyone knew she had problems sleeping, so they tried to be as quiet as possible. They let her keep her window open, even though it dried their skin. And though her body was absolutely begging her to sleep, her mind wouldn't turn off.

She jumped out of her skin when she heard Luke's low voice.

"Thank the gods your window is already open." She shot up, heart racing. She looked over to see Luke climbing in. "And also thank the gods you live on the bottom bunk." His voice was so quiet she could barely hear, but at least she knew her siblings wouldn't hear. She knew they would never tell Chiron, since they loved a good relationship.

"What are you doing?" She asked, eyes wide and a smile playing on her face. His scar shown in the moonlight as he sat on the windowsill, taking off his shoes. He handed them to her, and she put them down gently on the ground before lowering himself down on her bed.

"I'm gonna help you sleep." He told her, looking at her in a way that made her heart race just a little. Even in the little privacy, where no one could see them, he was caring for her.

"You don't have to." She turned her head down, feeling self conscious in her bonnet. He smiled at her.

"I want to."

The two settled in, Y/N lifting up the covers for Luke to come under. They switched positions so she could sleep next to the wall, his arms around her immediately. She felt so secure and safe in his arms, more relaxed than she had felt in weeks. He settled his face against her head, giving the softest kiss to her forehead. So soft she was questioning it as her mind drifted away.

When she woke up, she was in his arms. The sun was up, and it was much later than she had woken up in the past month.

"Tell him I went on a walk. And she's sick." Luke was whispering, his voice rumbling in his chest that Y/N was laying against. Given the small size of the bed, they were entangled. Her legs were fused with his, her torso stuck between the wall and Luke's body. Her hand was entangled into his sleep shirt, and she didn't untangle it because that would have given up that she was awake. And she wanted to stay like this a little longer.

And she was enjoying the warm light and the nice morning.

"You know he'll come in here anyway." A boy was saying, but Y/N didn't want to listen. Without thinking, she rubbed her face into Luke's shirt, trying to get more comfortable. She rubbed a leg against his, shifting and sighing.

"If you wake her up," Luke's voice sounded venomous, and it made her start to smile a little. Her head felt so light but also so heavy in a good way. She didn't think she could feel that way.

"Fine, I'm gone." The guy said, and Y/N heard his footsteps walk away. She stretched for a second, settling down so that her leg was thrown over his and she was more on top of him than against the wall. Her hand relaxed, still holding onto his shirt but not as tightly.

"You awake?" Luke whispered so quietly for a moment he didn't think she heard him.

"No." She said quietly, feeling her breathing even out.

"Alright." He brushes his hand against her back, soothing her even more. "Let me know when you're awake."

All the Aphrodite kids were working overtime to make sure that Chiron never found out that Luke was sneaking into the cabin and also to keep the Hermes cabin from snitching. And also from keeping the harpies from killing Luke.

It was a full-time job.

They usually slept in Y/N's bunk, because her siblings just wanted her to be happy. They all knew that she was supposed to break someone's heart, but they tried not to talk about it. No one else knew about the deadline.

"Can you tell me how you got your scar?" Y/N asked one night, tracing the mark as they laid in bed. She had been getting so much sleep with him that she was able to stay up a little bit with him now and whisper low enough that no one else could hear.

"You don't wanna hear about it before it before you go to bed." He whispers, eyes going dark and hand grabbing hers, stopping her from touching it. Her heart drops, and she feels like a little kid scolded.

"You never told me." She mutters, not wanting to push but wanting to know. They'd gotten so close now that she wanted to know everything about him before she no longer had an excuse to be around him all the time.

Oh gods, how was she going to sleep without him?

"You're already overthinking." He whispers, and she just huffs and tries her hardest to turn from him while his arms are around her and she's also stuck between him and the wall. For a moment she thought about throwing herself over him and getting up, just to prove a point, but she knew that was taking things a little too far.

"I just wanted to be there for you like you are for me." She knew that didn't have nightmares like most demigods did; at least, if he got them, he hadn't had any since he'd been with her. But she also knew no one could deal with everything on their own, and if he wasn't telling her, who else was he telling?

"I'm okay." He tells her, settling in and making her start to get comfortable again. She stretched, leaned against him and let her eyes close, trying to forget about his scar.

Something about the conversation rubbed her the wrong way.

The kids returned and the war was avoided, and now Annabeth seemed to have her own relationship problems. It made Y/N relieved, then sad, because she remembered that her own relationship was fake. In a few short weeks, she would have to 'break' Luke's heart. But that was in the future, and she could put it off as long as she could. She didn't want to have to break his heart, because she had a feeling it would only break her's.

Everything had been going great until her mother showed up.

This time, it hadn't been an IM. This time, her mother was waiting for her in the strawberry fields where she was supposed to meet with Luke.

"Mom?" Y/N asked, not sure if she was seeing correctly. Her mother's beautiful face brightened, and Y/N just blinked. She had never met her mother in person.

"My favorite child." Her mother said, making Y/N's eyes widen. She thought Silena was her favorite child. "I am so proud of you."

"What?" Y/N had been planning on talking to Luke about their breakup tonight, but her mother thew her off.

"You've broken the most talented swordsman's heart! The pain, oh, it almost breaks my own heart." Aphrodite put her hands over her own heart, and Y/N just furrowed her eyebrows.

"But, I haven't broken Luke's heart yet." Y/N says, thinking about how weird Luke had been acting when he asked to meet her there. She thought it was about them breaking up, but what if it was something else. Could he tell that she had fallen?

"No?" Her mother looked genuinely confused. "I sense such distress, such a hole of love in his heart." Y/N had never seen a god confused, and she didn't like this.

"Something's wrong." Y/N muttered, flinching when fireworks began to be set off.

"Yes," Her mother said gravely, grabbing her daughter's hand. "I will help you find him and set this right." She said it as if Y/N was supposed to break his heart over the pain he must've been feeling. Before she could protest, her mother was teleporting her. She ended up in front of Luke in the forest, her mother no where to be found. Luke looked angry, his sword was pointing right at her. It was actually pressing lightly into her chest, which made no sense. Luke would never do that.

"Y/N?" He asked, eyes widening. The anger melted away a little bit, but he still didn't look like the version of him she knew.

"What are you doing?" She asked, watching him lower his sword but not his guard. His eyes caught on something behind her, and she turned.

Percy was standing there, eyes wide and scared. He had his own sword in his hand, arms lifted in defense.

"Get out of the way, Y/N." Percy said, sounding older than his twelve years. It scared her, seeing this kid forced to mature.

"What are you doing?" She repeated, turning back to Luke. His expression had hardened slightly, but it still wasn't as angry as he had been when she first showed up.

"You don't want any part of this." Luke's voice was deep and dark, and Y/N felt her heart drop to her stomach.

"What have you done?" She rephrased, eyes wide as the fear sprinkled through her body in cold waves.

"What I had to." Luke said, as if that explained everything. "The gods are against us. They need us, but they don't care about us. I mean, have you ever even spoke with your mom is person?" He was trying to use her, and it hurt her feelings.

"I just did." She said quietly, turning fully to Luke. "And she told me you were heartbroken." She reveled at the shock that washed over his face.

"She must have been feeling someone else." Luke answered, and Y/N just shook her head.

"Luke, please." She walked toward him, grabbing his free hand. "We had something. We were pretending to date but you can't tell me you were acting the whole time." She felt tears in her eyes now. "Luke, I love you." She whispered finally. Filling the silence was the wind in the trees, the distant sound of fireworks. But not Luke's voice. He stayed quiet for a moment.

"It'll pass." He tells her quietly, tilting his head.

He might as well have stabbed her, the words hurt so bad. Using her shock, he threw his sword up, and not even letting go of her hand he caught it the opposite way, using the bottom to hit her head and send her to the ground.

"Goodbye," He muttered as he let her hand slip from his, stepping over her to face Percy.

Y/N could hear the breaking of her heart as she let her eyes close.

tags: @avada-kedavra-bitch-187 @one-sweet-gubler

#luke castellan #luke castellan x reader #luke castellan x reader fluff and angst #luke castellan fanfic #luke castellan imagine

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captainzigo · 6 months

Text

Hi everypony!

My kofi is ko-fi.com/captainzigo if you enjoy my art, consider leaving me a tip! this is otherwise entirely a labor of love so,,,

you can also send a request with your tip! but if you choose to do so, please read the disclaimer later on in this post** for the foreseeable future, any tips I receive will be donated to vetted Palestinian fundraisers. I will send you the receipt if you want me to.

my non-art blog, where i accept asks is @snapewife-divorce-lawyer and my reblog-spam blog is @3amgaypotion

that's a bunch of pictures of my oc(/ponysona) Prickly Pear. she's a cowgirl

Frequent/noteworthy questions below the break

**on donations made to me:

i still dont take commissions currently, but if you send a request with a donation, there's a 99% chance i'll do it. and that remaining 1% i'll probably just ask you for a different request. if you send me a request with a donation you are not sending me a commision. you are making a donation, and i might do you a favor as a result. you do not own the resulting art. and I am under no obligation to complete it or to do it in the way that you like. you do not need to make a donation in order to make a request. i talk more about it here

hello mutuals!

If you are a mutual, DM me for an invite to discord server and subsequently to minecraft server

on sending me asks:

any asks you send me should be like Strongbad emails. one paragraph. no attachments. unless you are sending me refs.

in any interactions, please keep in mind that i am a stranger on the internet and act accordingly.

unless I have explicitly said otherwise, you can safely assume that I do not count you amongst my friends. it is nothing personal, it is in fact the opposite.

why am i like this?

i am autistic. i say this because representation matters, but also because i would like to ask that you please be very frank with me. i don't even really need your patience. just say what you mean and we will get along fine.

can you draw my ocs?

you most certainly can draw any of my ocs. i'd love that acually. tag me

on (re)posting my art:

do not post my art on other platforms. do not repost my art period. I don't really exist on other platforms since i deleted Twitter. So if you see my stuff on other platforms, it's not me.

transformative works are obviously allowed, at least here in america where i live. but if you want my blessing, please keep them SFW, and try to keep the spirit of the original artwork

is my blog SFW?

im in my twenties. i keep my blog SFW (as i define it) as a strict rule.

i do not consider the fact that sex exists, that some people enjoy it, or some innuendo to be NSFW. i also do not consider swearing, even as tho a sailor might, to be NSFW.

are NSFW interactions ok?

in short: no. while i have no aversion to to that sort of thing, and often actually enjoy it, i keep this blog SFW. the intention behind my art is to be SFW even when it might be skirting the line. in general, and especially, specifically with mlp, i do not wish to have NSFW interactions on the internet. please respect this boundary.

on shipping:

in my opinion, all romance real or fictional should be between people who are similar in age, doing age appropriate things, not closely related, and all with mutual consent. i am not interested in witnessing or interacting with anything outside of these parameters.

on my blue hair and pronouns:

i am a trans woman. i am also bisexual. i am also poly and demi since im listing things. i am out online becasue i know how important it is to know that you aren't alone.

do i take constructive criticism?

NO 🖕👹🖕 FUCK YOU!!!!!!! GET BLOCKED IDIOT!! unless you are a marginalized person who feels i have unintentionally made you uncomfortable somehow with my art or otherwise. in that case i am sorry and you do me a great favor by calling me out. OTHERWISE FUCK YOU DUMBASS IF YOU DONT LIKE MY ART GO DRAW YOUR OWN 🖕🖕🖕🖕

“i hate bronies”…

i don't necessarily hate you if you self identify with that label. i like to make myself off-putting to keep creeps away. i talk about it more in this post: https://www.tumblr.com/captainzigo/744131513208176640/when-i-say-i-hate-bronies-in-my-header-its

brony?

i don't hold a lot of nostalgia for old brony stuff. infact it's quite the opposite. i was a child when the show came out, and more than that i was a girl. i am not a brony.

do i like g5?

i like all generations of mip including the new stuff. gen 4 is just the one i grew up with

why is my header aurora, bori and alice from the best gift ever?

well that would be because i hate them like a mother hates a child. like the sun hates the moon. like sickly victorian child hates the slightest morsel of bread.

on flurryheart:

i often draw stuff about cozy glow x flurry heart. this is with the understanding that cozy glow spends about a decade turned to stone. nullifying the age gap.

🤓☝️ i think you mean effect, not affect

i am dyslexic. i spell stuff wrong all the time and i type weird. please don't bother correcting me. wooptydoo your brain is wired normally. sending you a medal.

on my username:

i've had the same username since i debuted on the internet. zigo is the name of an oc i made that i dont really talk much about anymore. zigo is a fine enough nickname, and at least one person calls me that irl.

#prickly pear #my ocs #pinned post

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writing-for-life · 3 months

Text

I’m running a Sandman blog. As such, I feel I can’t not say anything, but I’ll make this short (for me):

I believe victims. I’m a psychotherapist and work with them almost every day. My trust in the legal system on these matters is therefore also limited and a complicated affair. Having said this, I will withhold further commentary as the situation unfolds, because it’s too complex.

I also believe that stories have meaning to us that goes beyond their creators, and that meaning doesn’t suddenly fall away because of their creators’ actions, although it can, and that’s also okay.

Our feelings are allowed to be complicated, and no one deserves any type of harassment because they still love a story while simultaneously grappling with feelings of anger, disgust or simply sadness towards or about its creator. Neither does anyone deserve any hard feelings because they decide they don’t want to engage anymore.

Our feelings are our own, and we don’t have to justify them to anyone.

Fandoms exist because of story and community. And those stories and communities don’t suddenly stop existing, so I hope we can remember to treat each other with respect and empathy moving on from here.

Edit:

On a more constructive note, and also speaking as a therapist with both personal and continuous secondhand experience of SA who already sees the damage caused by unreflective knee-jerk posting on here:

You don’t have to make repeated public statements to disassociate yourself from works. Once is enough if you feel you have something to communicate to your followers. Not at all is enough, too. Simply do what you need to do. It’s enough if you know what you stand for, and to act accordingly.

Get your information from original sources, not “summaries” and hearsay on Tumblr. The amount of misinformation, both accidental and malicious, I have seen on here is shocking. All podcasts are freely available with transcripts. Stop believing the people who tell you otherwise, because they either don’t know what they’re talking about, or they aim to control the discussion for their own agenda. If you want to partake in discussion, get info from the source, because that’s truly something you owe to the victims. Otherwise, consider to withhold your opinions. We don’t have to add to the noise, there’s enough of it already, and it somewhat disqualifies itself if it adds its own agenda: This is not about LGBTQ+ issues or whether you deem an outlet trustworthy (it’s about the victims). It is not about your own opinions about kink (it’s about the victims). It is not about your disabilities or struggles that render you “unable to listen or read”. It is about the victims, not about you. So consider to stop centering yourself.

You are not a bad person for enjoying the work of a person who did wrong, neither does condemning them automatically make you a good person. How you behave towards your fellow human beings does. So if you feel tempted to judge, or even harass, other people for their love of a piece of media, take a breath first. Because in that moment, it has stopped being about the victims—it has become about centering yourself as righteous.

Don’t read into works, but don’t pretend they exist in a vacuum either. We can’t truly separate the art from the artist, but we can (re)assign meaning unique to us. The moment you interpret a piece of art, it reflects you. It will mirror back your feelings and worldview. If all you feel while engaging is negative, it is time to disengage. There is enough art in the world you can enjoy. But don’t judge those who still find meaning even if you don’t.

Take action in the real world, and step back from online discourse. Put your money where your mouth is, donate to women’s shelters or volunteer, organise fundraisers. In short: Make a difference where you can. Online opinion pieces are not that place, neither is keeping yourself in a state of constant aggravation by obsessively checking the tags. All it does it make you unwell.

Don’t support the creator financially if it feels icky. I know I won’t from here onwards, especially where there is a clear divide between his work and that of others. Secondhand books are an option, so are libraries. They’re everywhere, and eBay is your friend in that case. You can also still read and enjoy the works you own, it doesn’t harm anyone. You don’t have to bin, burn or sell them. If that feels right though, go for it. It’s your choice, but don’t expect others to make the same choices.

Most importantly: You have nothing to prove to anyone. You know who you are, that’s all that matters. Don’t let anyone tell you otherwise.

#no tags #because all those tags are a mess #but you know what this one is about #stick together and stay safe out there

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precious-little-scoundrel · 6 months

Text

| Ida’s Law

Introductory Part

Summary: The American War Effort had conceded to the enlisting and commissioning of women into the Air Force at semi-integrated status. Deemed a more reliable if not safer combat post, the going rank of officer in the Air Force was intended to secure fair treatment and combatant status for these women, as it had for their male counterparts. Like most things in war -or life, if one is a woman- such recognition must be fought for.

Warnings: disturbing content- if you made it through last one this one should be a breeze, however it picks up where we left off so expect mentions of war, wounds, illusions to past rapes, Nazis being racist fucks, possibly some internalized misogyny about it all and some hopefully very 🥹🤧 reunions

A Note Going Forward: With this part now published, I am happy to open this series up for prompts. Ideally I’d like this series to end up being exclusively prompt-inspired and will be putting out prompt lists accordingly. I think that will be a fun way to keep the interaction going, stretch my own skills and explore all the different scenarios that may intrigue y’all. You’re welcome to come up with your own prompts, too. All are welcome, none guaranteed but let’s be real -I’m obsessed with this AU so I’ll likely do it. For now I’ll be keeping all writing to POW Camp and Liberation and Post-Liberation timelines.

“Well, what do we know?” Ida Brady asked the first officer out on the other side as they began to filter through the laborious processing of the camp. She counted them down, one familiar face after another appearing through the doorway again with no worse indignity than the new identification tags hanging from their necks.

“I hate a guy named Johann, and I like a guy named Fritz, and the lieutenant guy wasn’t bad.” Maureen declared, straightening her precious cap atop muddy auburn tresses. “Who went and named their son Fritz after the last war? I mean really? Who does that to a kid? It’s like he’s making up for it now, though, awfully nice.”

“Mm, I thought so, too.” Ida hummed, “Might keep an eye on that one, work on him a bit. You think, Kendeigh?”

“Work on him yourself, Ida.” Maureen scoffed.

“Not much to work with.” Ida retorted, the first general reference to her disfigurement she’d made. “What do you know? What’s up?” she left off to inquire after Tallulah Smith who came out the other side of processing looking more than exasperated.

“Know? They don’t know squat.” she said, “Never heard of a Cherokee.”

“I’ll be.” Maureen was grinning sharply. “Wasn't enough being a woman for ya Smith, ya had to go and be a brown one.”

“You’re tellin’ me.” She griped, “They kept insisting I was a fighter pilot. That’s what all the ‘dark ones’ are, according to them. Told them I’d rewire their insides and maybe then they’d take my engineering degree seriously.”

“I’d like to see that.” Maureen murmured, drowsiness beginning to take over at the comparative calm of their new surroundings.

“Looks like we got everyone, yeah?” Ida peered over the heads of the crowing room and counted out her charges in a silent tally.

“Looks like.” Smith agreed. “Got billet assignments?”

“I do. Colonel Clark, most senior prisoner here, said the combines are strict but the rooms aren’t. Let’s try to behave until we feel our way, then we can swap, if they allow.”

“It’s going to smell like feet no matter where and who we share it with.” Smith pointed out and Ida heaved a great sigh as if that were the hardest prospect she’d yet encountered.

“Mm.”

“Buck is out there!” Maureen suddenly cried out, grabbing at Ida’s arm, pointing out the window at the muddy yard.

“How nice. Gotta get this sorted first, eyes in, Kendeigh.”

Maureen reluctantly tore her eyes away from her dearly missed pilot. “Yes sir.”

“All right,” Ida’s voice carried as well as it ever had, commanding immediate quiet and attention, “those in the 350th, 419th, -the hundredth!- on me. Gather ‘round. That’s it, come on. Alright, well, we made it, well done. Truly, well done to all of you. Now I know you well enough to not accuse any of you of being pure idiots, just because we made it to where we wanted to go doesn’t mean any of what’s ahead is going to be easy. Be wary, don’t let your guard down, you don’t know plenty of these men and they don’t know you, I’m sure there are measures in place for spying already. Be sensible. I am certain we can rely on the kindness of those in the hundredth, but even then keep in mind, if you are cold, they are too, if you're hungry, you best believe they are hungrier, the last thing we need is a crisis of chivalry in here. Rely on them, except their help, but don’t ever take from them. Understood? And one more thing, since the human spirit is irrepressible I feel it’s warranted to make one more housekeeping note. None, and I do mean none, no inner relations at all are allowed. I don’t care how cold you are, how sweet he’s been, or how much you’ve missed him. The Red Cross aren’t sending rubbers, and don’t ever take the promise of a pull out. Do you want a one-way ticket to a death camp or a bullet to the head? Get pregnant. Simple as that. You think the Jerries think poorly of you now for being female? Try being a matron. The point is to blend in as much as possible, keep that in mind. Whatever you do, keep that in mind. Understood?”

“Yes sir!”

“Colonel?” One voice demurred, raised hand and respectful title only forerunners for an obvious objection incoming.

“Yes? Sanchez, isn’t it? You’re not one of mine, I think.”

“No, sir, 55th -fighters.”

“Yes, well, welcome. What’s your question?”

“No offense sir but- what about the guards?” Sanchez asked.

“We don’t know yet,” Brady replied with typical candor, “I believe so far we’ve seen a mix here. I’m sure our friends can give us tips on who to watch out for.”

“No sir, sorry I meant-“ Sanchez kept her teeth clenched until her thoughts seemed to form better, “-you said no relations. What about the guards? No disrespect meant colonel and I don’t know about yours, but mine -they weren’t pulling out.”

“Mm.” Maureen thought that if Ida smashed her lips together any tighter they’d turn whiter than her skin, the bent aviators she had managed to preserve this entire time did a remarkable job of masking whatever feeling was stiffening her spine to the current degree, but all the same, her spine was stiff, “no offense taken, an excellent point. I’ll inquire about any possible…remedies. Anyone else?”

A multitude of hands shot up and Ida Brady scanned them with bewilderment until she realized her lapse in specificity. “Anyone else with questions, I meant! Saints alive. No? Good, let’s claim our bunks and see about a wash.”

After the dark interior of the building, being processed for hours, the hazy late afternoon light of outside glared painfully against Ida’s bloodshot eyes as she stepped out, leading the way down the three wooden steps to the muddy yard. Monochrome, this place, brown wooden buildings and brown earth and a muddy sky and brown flight jackets one after another.

And there in the midst of it, waiting for them with ever constant patience and thinned stateliness was Gale Cleven and his lost blue eyes and an alarmingly symmetrical set of facial scars.

“Major.” Ida felt her face soften into an odd expression she realized was likely that of relief. Cleven had that way about him, it was better suited to her preferences than Egan’s blustering warm hearted concern, Colonel Harding’s gruff joviality or her John’s perpetually intense concern. Her little brother was, oddly, nowhere to be seen now and that was a comfort in this wide open, highly observed space.

“Colonel.” Gale Cleven’s eyes weren’t a lost blue anymore but a pair of stormy seas and Ida steeled herself for pity. She found smoldering rage in his face instead. Another relief.

“How was it?” he was nodding to the command hut.

“Fine.” she assured.

He was searching for something in her face and Ida was sure it was easily found skin deep along her puffy, purpled left cheek, but if she had anything to do with her expression alone, he’d be kept guessing for ages. “Good.” he decided at last but his smile was tight, “Made John wait in the combine, he’s in there pacing like a madman. They make a note of who’s attached to whom, Colonel,” he explained, “a more discreet reunion seemed in order.”

“We’d appreciate all the direction you—“ Ida had begun but was cut short by Lt. Kendeigh who broke ranks from the processed group and came out of the hut behind Ida like a bat out of hell, running up to Cleven and tackling him in a hug, rather like a dog with their long lost master.

The Major’s lanky frame staggered under her surprise attack, perhaps more from shock and ill preparedness than poor rations and a weakened constitution. Or at least Ida, hoped that was the case.

Well, there went all intentions for discretion about partiality on their part, five seconds had gone by and Maureen still hadn’t let go, her valued cap about ready to knock off her head and his too. Seeing the gig was up, Cleven even belatedly brought an arm up to hug her shoulders, his pleased face bashfully pacifying her intensity. “If it isn’t my favorite bombardier.” Cleven mumbled, his lips failing not to tug upwards in the tiniest of smiles, and he gave her a pat on the back.

“Buck!” Smith was coming in hot behind Kendeigh and knocked Ida’s shoulder in her haste to get around her and join in. “Thank Jesus you’re here.” she grunted as she squeezed him and Kendeigh both, “I mean -we’re sorry you’re here but since we’re here-“

“Glad you’re here, too, Smith.” he assured her gently, another pat on another back and Ida watched Cleven’s composure began to flake as he took stock of their roughened appearances. “It’s gonna be ok now.” he offered, and coming from someone else that statement would’ve sounded a great deal less impressive than it did coming from him. It also sounded hollow without Bucky’s typical parroting of the upbeat sentiment. “Let’s get you girls sorted.” he nodded at Ida who fell in alongside him, if only to distance and displace Kendeigh and her over familiarity just a tad.

“What’s your Kommandant like?” Ida asked by way of conversation as Gale directed them in a trudge along the brown paths towards his specified hut.

“Think I know him as well as you.” Gale admitted, “Tried to stay low, been no reason for socializing. Wouldn’t advise a trip to the camp doctor though.” He added the last part after a beat.

“Why?”

“Your Johnny says he’s got an experimental mind.” Gale smiled wryly but there was a grieved look behind it that made Ida’s pulse pound in alarm, “If you go in with a cold, you might come out with a radioactive arm instead.”

“Noted.” Ida muttured with a shiver, wishing to god her jacket hadn’t been taken off her a couple stops ago, the sun was waning in the dull sky and the breeze was frigid without it. “Speaking of doctors,” she decided to go for it, “is Johnny -my John- is he alright? At the gate it was such a racket, was he…standing?”

Gale paused in his step up into the combine, brows knitted in surprise and she noticed along with him that their little march had drawn quite a little audience from the fellow inmates. Females in a Stalag -what a novelty. “Yeah, John’s fine. He’s fit.” Gale still had that quizzical look on his face.

Ida swallowed hard and gave him another curt nod, one she wanted to come across as grateful but wasn’t sure it did, her battered cheek was responding less and less to her mind’s commands. “Right. This us?”

“Yeah. Figured we’d try to keep as many close as possible.” He explained, “Welcome to paradise.”

“What did y’all name this shack?” Maureen asked him as she stepped over the threshold, it was dark inside and smelled of lumber and smoke.

“We haven’t.” Gale admitted, forlorn at the realization that things like that didn’t occur to people like him. If Bucky had been here, he’d have had it named in an hour, and something awful, too. Something that would make them all laugh.

“Damn oversight, Gingerale.” Maureen teased merrily but Cleven noticed the dimming light in her eyes as she took in the cramped, uninspired utility of the place. One wooden doorway after another.

“Talked it over with Colonel Clark during your processing,” Gale said, “decided it were best if we mingle you all among the men we know. Boys from your squadrons, friendly faces. A few of you in each room.”

“I call dibs on yours.” Maureen unabashedly grinned up at Cleven but Ida saw how a heartbroken look of protectiveness skittered across his features.

“Alright.” he muttered without a fight for once.

“Mm, Smith, Sanchez, Tong, you in here.” Ida decided and having snapped her fingers she was moving on to the next stuffy room. Asking Cleven at each about their current occupants, and with the precision of memory required of a woman who had to memorize her opponents on the promotional ladder, chose their new bunk mates accordingly.

“And where’s Johnny bunked?” she asked him in a low tone as she watched the next set settle in from the doorway.

“In with me, further down the hall, Demarco, Hambone, a few others.”

Ida seemed to hesitate as she eyed up an extra bunk in the current room that the last of her girls were settling into.

“Don’t be a stick, colonel,” Maureen spoke up gently, a surprising liberty even for her, “you need friends right now. Bunk with us. Everyone’s going to be fine. Can’t be all places at all times, ya know?”

Ida didn’t reply but after a moment she admitted, “I should go see John.”

Gale and Maureen exchanged a look and then moved in unison to catch up to her as Ida Brady walked, brisk as if she were back home at Thorpe and about to pick a fight with Jack Kidd, down the long hall to one of the last rooms. “In here?” she asked Gale, pointing at the closed door -they liked to keep it so for warmth and privacy, and to acclimate the guards to it being closed when the radio was out.

“Yeah that’s us.” Cleven replied, reaching out and snagging Maureen back a step as Ida turned the handle. “Let’s give ‘em a minute.” he suggested, referring to the Bradys.

He held her jacket sleeve for a brief moment before turning it to grab her hand, he’d missed those hands. To his horror their usual calloused elegance was a swollen paw of bruises. “The hell, Maureen?” he whispered in shock, turning it over to examine it, grip strong around her wrist before she could pull away. “Who did this?”

Maureen did her best to shrug, “Some bitch stood on them.” she said simply, and surrendered the other hand for a similar heartbroken inspection.

Kendeigh was indeed not as visibly marred as Ida Brady or a few of the others, but still, Gale kept turning her crushed hands over and over, recalling with vivid agony the way he’d admired them at all manner of work before. To hurt them that way, to restrain her so meanly- “Maureen,” she’d never heard his voice dip so low, and his eyes were simmering where they cataloged her hurts, “what’d they do to you?”

“What’d they do to your face?” she shot back, perhaps more perturbed by the immaculately symmetrical scars on his once porcelain face than her own condition. Women expected the treatment they’d gotten, in some twisted way, but this on the other hand, it disturbed her.

Gale looked taken aback by her question and quickly dropped her hand to touch his right cheek as if to remind himself the scar was obvious to everyone. “Flak.” he replied a beat too late.

“Awfully precise.” she snarked.

“I asked you first.”

“I told you, a bitch stood on them.”

“I’m your superior officer.”

“Who it looks like someone had some fun with,” Maureen snapped back, “who did this?”

“What happened to you?” He hit right back but his voice quavered.

“I’m fine now. I wanna go see the boys. Come on.”

“Just- give them another minute.” Gale insisted, pulling her back away from the doorway again, “It’s a lot.” He reminded, “For a brother to see his sister like -that.”

Maureen couldn’t argue with that, besides Gale looked so sad and more fragile than she’d ever seen him, and the gentle hold he had on her jacket was as needy and scared as a child’s. “I’m glad we’re in this together.” she whispered.

“Me too.” he admitted, guilty and sad over how true that was before letting her press her lips to his.

Ida Brady didn’t know what she expected when she opened the door, not much she supposed, just a living brother with any luck. It was a decently tidy room, plates stacked on a rough hewn board at the far end, eight bunks lining the walls, stacked three tall. A table was in the middle and there sat dear old Crank and Hambone too, Murph with Benny. A card game was ongoing.

They looked so fine, quite normal, all in all.

All motion in the small room stopped upon her entrance. Cards were dropped and cigarettes forgotten in open mouthed shock.

“Holy shit -colonel?” Demarco didn’t have a dishonest bone in his body, and his disbelieving horror over her appearance came through loud and clear in his greeting. She hadn’t seen him at the gate.

The same for Hambone’s face, one that had never bothered to be discreet in pleasant circumstances, much less in shocking ones like seeing a notorious superior officer come in looking about as battered as a body could get -although his torn cheek was one to talk. Crank recovered first, in his mild, stammering sort of way, glancing at the lean figure who still stood looking out the lone window.

“Well, if it isn’t Ain’t Pretty Brady.” Crank clapped uneasily, summoning her nickname from basic just to cut the tension, it served to startle John.

He turned from the window abruptly, blank faced and unblinking as he realized the sister he had been watching for had already arrived. If their ole nan from the motherland had suddenly materialized before him he could have hardly looked more haunted or aghast, wide fringed fox eyes and that straight fold of a mouth -always so very held together, her little brother. Even after his third belly landing.

But those startled unblinking eyes...

Ida wanted to tell him to blink, that it was all alright now, that they were both alive and that it was good enough, it had to be. But she seemed to have fully lost all power over her throbbing cheek at last, she could feel her lips move in a motion she realized with supreme panic was likely a wobble of emotion. She ripped her aviators off, as if seeing her eyes might help his to come alive.

“John John?” she croaked in greeting, oblivious of the childish endearment tumbling off her lips in a room full of soldiers. If it were something their family was in the habit of doing, Ida Brady might have rushed him like Maureen did her pilot, or held out her own hand to be held, asked for a gesture from him -after what she’d gone through, surely it couldn’t have been weakness to want a clap on the shoulder, a flick to the bicep, a little “well done” for staying alive.

But she just stood there and watched him clock her shame. She could feel her swollen lip splitting in real time as the swelling and incessant trembling tore the taut skin apart, they’d passed around a single canteen in processing and it wasn’t enough, the walls of her throat felt collapsed together. Maybe she should have asked for a mirror first, maybe Cleven or Kendeigh or Smith should have told her she’d bring a whole room to a frozen standstill by her looks alone. They’d seen her at the gate -were these meager lightbulbs really so much more illuminating?

“Eye-eye.” Johnny let it out in a breathy rush as if he’d suddenly come to, and then he was in front of her, hands cradling the sides of her neck, thumbs hooked gently under her bruised jaw. A calloused pad swiped away the ticklish trickle of blood sliding the crease of her mouth.

Eye eye -his onetime baby babble for Ida, and she’d never let him forget it.

She could have wept at the useless sentimentality of it, of the gentle familiarity of familial hands, at the seething loyalty storming across his face.

“The fuck did they do?” he articulated at last, voice gravelly as shit but also reminiscent of the squeaky olden days when his castrato role suddenly no longer served one Sunday in choir.

“You’ve got legs.” she answered instead, sounding maniacal in her happiness.

He looked at her like she’d gone fully crazy as well as beat, “Yeah? Yeah I do.”

“They said, they said you didn’t.” she chuckled, a bizarre merriment trying to take hold in her relief, “During interrogation, that bespectacled cunt told me you had your legs crushed when you crashed.”

“No? No- no I jumped.” He insisted, then let go of her face to step back and gesture to two fit legs, as long and lanky as she remembered, as long and lanky as her own. “I jumped, I’m fine. They told you that?”

“Yeah.” Ida said, “Told me the longer I didn’t comply the longer you were without medical attention. I -I’ve been so…uneasy…about you.”

“I’m fine.” He repeated, hands back on her shoulders and she was grateful for it despite the bruises he was gripping, grateful for the way he kept touching her like he was going to hold her together with his own two hands, same blood, same flesh, same memories, maybe whatever she’d lost he could supply back like a blood donation. “Those sons of bitches.” he cursed them.

“Plasma for planes.” she agreed.

He kept looking at her, at her cheek and at her ragged hair and at the missing buttons, “You didn’t tell them anything did you?” he suddenly asked, wide eyed. “You know i’d rather die than have you tell.”

Ida scoffed, and gave him a grin, the best one she could manage with her cheek and split lip, “What do you take me for, Johnny?”

“A cold hearted bitch, I hope.” he returned the small smile but his voice cracked, still that hint of something long gone and juvenile.

“That’s what their Lieutenant called me.” Ida confirmed, a little proud, and sensing a renewal of his inquiries, Ida chose to take the offensive and call out for a conspicuously absent Kendeigh, “Candy! Didn’t you want to tell Johnny about your charming admirer? The Lieutenant?”

Kendeigh came round the doorway hastily, her lips puffy and cheeks oddly red. Cleven followed after and matched her, and his blush did nothing but highlight those scars of his. “Brady.” Maureen greeted, boldly hugging Ida’s very stiff brother without care —due to his red cheeks and rigid shoulders Ida concluded Cleven had given his own inner-relations talk to the men—, “Yes, I wanted to -oh hello Crank, Benny you son of gun- wanted to tell y'all about my ticket outta here -hell Hambone, how’d you manage to get uglier? -see my integrator, he found me fairly fetching. I think one of these days he’s gonna roll up in his shiny car and take me away from here and you’re all gonna wish you’d taken time to learn a little know-how about Alligators and their hibernation tactics in the winter. He was enthralled.”

There was an awkward silence hanging in the room, Crank grimaced a smile out of sheer generosity of heart and Benny Demarco still sat with his cigarette neglected on his open lip. Cleven, used to her preening brazness kept a tight lip, though a thousand questions seemed to swirl in his eyes.

“He the one who stood on your hands?” John Brady asked her without hesitancy.

Maureen whirled round then, comedy hour over and an angry flush creeping up her neck at his directness. “No.” she snapped. “Can’t some of them be alright?”

“A German’s a German.” he countered.

“There’s Fitzs and then there’s Johanns.” she disagreed nebulously and only Ida got her reference.

“And a shower is a shower,” Ida butted in before this became an experiment in an immovable object meeting an unstoppable force “which we need, badly. We’re…filthy.”

“We’ve got working sinks, trough sinks.” Cleven clarified with an apologetic look as if it were his fault the showers only ran once a week and poorly at that, and the water they had was frigid already in autumn.

“Water is water.” Ida reasoned in return, wondering when Johnny was going to finally let go of her arm.

“We’ll clear it out for ya.” Cleven said.

“And we’ll guard the entrance.” John added emphatically.

“Thanks.” Ida muttured, “Some of us could use to mend our uniforms.” she added, refusing to blanch at the subtle inventory of her jagged tears and crusted blood being made by every man in the room.

Maureen at least had her jacket intact. Her cap, too.

“Here, you can have my trousers while I stitch yours.” her John decided and was unbuckling his belt before she even registered the hand gone from her shoulder.

“What?” Ida balked, “You’re going to go ‘round in your skivvies?”

“Not as uncommon around here as you’d think, Ida.” Gale said, a small smile on his face. “I’m afraid order and decorum has gone to shit without you.”

“Well I’m here now.” she replied sternly but didn’t stop Johnny as he stripped.

“And so am I.” Kendeigh grinned and all Ida could do was to bless the saints for having let only one terror into the camp, were Bucky Egan to be here too, things would become intolerably lax. As soon as she thought it she repented it, sending up a prayer for the poor, absent bastard.

“Say Benny, you’re shorter, can I have your pants?” Maureen pleaded.

“Why mine?” Demarco protested, only offended at the height implication.

“Because Cleven’s too tall and I’ve already been in his pants.”

“Maureen!”

“Ida, order somebody to give me their pants.”

“You can have mine.” Crank offered kindly, and then stood up and bashfully began to unlayer. It left him in skivvies, a snuggly sweater and his flight jacket.

“It’s a good look, Crank,” Maureen grinned at the finished product as he handed the trousers over. “I’m seeing you in a different light.”

“Maureen!”

“Just sayin-“

“Take the pants with you to the washroom!” Brady interjected desperately as Maureen looked ready to strip right here and now. “Jesus, Kendeigh.”

“Touchy, touchy.” Maureen ribbed him, out for blood in her tired state and if she couldn’t have that of the Germans she would of her friends’.

“Alright let’s - let’s settle down.” Gale implored, a tired expression firmly etched onto his face and Ida herself considered giving up on the wash altogether and tumbling into the available bunk to court the oblivion of sleep. Were it only blood and dirt she just might, her usual tidiness be damned.

As it was -it was, there was…the filth was so much worse.

And if Ida thought on it too long she’d go mad and want to pour boiling lye on herself to wash herself clean and to kill the shame of it. She’d have to scrub the pants before she gave them to Johnny to be mended, it was bad enough for a brother to see the blood and busted seams.

“Yes, settle down for God’s sake.” she echoed Cleven, and something about her hoarse voice compelled Maureen to temper herself more than any direct order could. “A wash, come on, let’s get the girls. Oh and one more thing, Cleven-“ Ida turned to Gale and found him alert, eager to help. She was afraid she was only setting him up for failure but she had to make an effort to find those “remedies” she’d promised Sanchez. “There any lemons around?”

The incredulous look on his face suggested he thought she knew better, but he was ever polite in his reply, “No, colonel. No lemons.”

“Mm. Nutmeg?” she tried to recall each wicked trick she’d heard condemned when a girl got herself in the family way without the needed family in place.

“No, no nutmeg.”

“Mm.”

“Nothing but potatoes and cigarettes, ma’am. Do you- why?” he asked.

“Nothing.” she assured, “Just, a hot toddy sounds good right about now. You know?”

“Uh,” he floundered, half in suspicion and half in genuine confusion, “never had one.”

“Well then,” she grinned as she passed him, “that’s something to add to our to-do list for when this is all over. Jameson, though, none of that Kentucky stuff.”

“Yes ma’am.” his tone was vacant, smiling concern brittle, “You uh, you alright, Colonel?”

Ida gave him a withering look and then Gale too, had cause to be repentant.

“Come on Kendeigh, let's get the rest.” Ida gestured as she followed Gale back into the hall, aware of Johnny’s eyes still on her, still taking stock, “They better not be in bunks without a wash. Come on, showers, everyone! Out, come on out. You can sleep afterwards. Out! Would one of you be so kind as to wake us up in time for roll call?” she inquired of the male officers straggling behind her in the hall.

“Course! Yeah, for sure.” about five offers went up.

“You wake Me up.” she clarified coming to a full stop, wary of the enthusiasm, “I’ll wake up the rest.”

“I’ll get you up.” Her John said.

He’d probably sit and watch her sleep, too, needle and torn pants in hand, like a creepy little owl but that was one of those things she figured make or break a family, you either find it endearing you have a brother who rarely blinks or you go mad. Today, after all of it, she didn’t mind having a guardian Angel. Or a watchdog. Speaking of-

“Hey,” she asked him, “you two flew out together, where’s Bucky?”

But no one had an answer for that, not even Little John.

💋Hope you enjoyed AND REMEMBER -prompts are now open.

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