#mix up manhattan | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

lollobarcollomanonmollo · 1 year ago

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women artists that you should know about!!

-Judith Leyster (Dutch, 1609-1660)

During her life her works were highly recognized, but she got forgotten after her death and rediscovered in the 19th century. In her paintings could be identified the acronym "JL", asually followed by a star, she was the first woman to be inserted in the Guild of St. Luke, the guild Haarlem's artists.

-Artemisia Gentileschi (Italian, 1593-1656)

"... Si è talmente appraticata che posso osar de dire che hoggi non ci sia pare a lei, havendo fatto opere che forse i principali maestri di questa professione non arrivano al suo sapere". This is how the father Orazio talked about his nineteen year old daughter to the Medici's court in Florence.

In 1611, Artemisia got raped, and she had to Undergo a humiliating trial, just to marry so that she could "Restore one's reputation" , according to the morality of the time. Only after a few years Artemisia managed to regain her value, in Florence, in Rome, in Naples and even in England, her oldest surviving work is "Susanna and the elders".

-Elisabeth Louise Vigèe Le Brun (French, 1755-1842)

She was a potrait artists who created herself a name during the Ancien Règime, serving as the potrait painting of the Queen of France Marie Antoinette, she painted 600 portraits and 200 landscapes in the course of her life.

-Augusta Savage (Afro-American, 1892-1962)

Augusta started making figures when she was a child, which most of them were small animals made out of red clay of her hometown, she kept model claying, and during 1919, at the Palm Beach County Fair, she won $25 prize and ribbon for most original exhibit. After completing her studies, Savage worked in Manhattan steam laundries to support her family along with herself. After a violent stalking made by Joe Gould that lasted for two decades, the stalker died in 1957 after getting lobotomized. In 2004, a public high school, Augusta Fells Savage Institute of Visual Arts, in Baltimore, opened.

-Marie Ellenrieder (German,1791-1863)

She was known for her portraits and religious paintings. During a two years long stay in Rome, she met some Nazarenes (group of early 19th century German romantic painters who wanted to revive spirituality in art),after becoming a student of Friedrich Overbeck and after being heavily influenced by a friend, she began painting religious image, getting heavily inspired by the Italian renaissance, more specifically by the artist Raphael. In 1829, she became a court painter to Grand Duchess Sophie of Baden.

-Berthe Marie Pauline Morisot (French,1841-1893)

Morisot studied at the Louvre, where she met Edouard Manet, which became her friend and professor. During 1874 she participated at her first Impressionist exhibition, and in 1892 sets up her own solo exhibition.

-Edmonia Lewis or also called "wildfire" (mixed African-American and Native American 1844-1907)

Edmonia was born in Upstate New York but she worked for most of her career in Rome, Italy. She was the first ever African American and Native American sculptor to achieve national and international fame, she began to gain prominence in the USA during the Civil Ware. She was the first black woman artist who has participated and has been recognized to any extent by the American artistic mainstream. She Also in on Molefi Kete Asante's list of 100 Greatest African Americans.

-Marie Gulliemine Benoist (French, 1768-1826)

Daughter of a civil servant, Marie was A pupil of Jaques-Louis David, whose she shared the revolutionary ideas with, painting innovative works that have caused whose revolutionary ideals he shared, painting innovative works that caused discussion. She opened a school for young girl artists, but the marriage with the banker Benoist and the political career Of the husband had slowly had effect on her artistic career, forcing her to stop painting. Her most famous work is Potrait of Madeline, which six years before slavery was abolished, so that painting became a simbol for women's emancipation and black people's rights.

-Lavinia Fontana (Italian, 1552-1614)

She is remembered for being the first woman artist to paint an altarpiece and for painting the first female nude by a woman (Minerva in the act of dressing), commissioned by Scipione Borghese.

-Elisabetta Sirani. (Italian, 1698-1665)

Her admirable artistic skills, that would vary from painting, drawing and engraving, permitted her, in 1660, to enter in the National Academy of S. Luca, making her work as s professor. After two years she replaced her father in his work of his Artistic workshop, turning it into an art schools for girls, becoming the first woman in Europe to have a girls' school of painting, like Artemisia Gentileschi, she represent female characters as strong and proud, mainly drawn from Greek and Roman stories. (ex. Timoclea Kills The Captain of Alexander the Great, 1659).

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soleilpinto · 30 days ago

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DRS = Defining Relationship Status?: Oversteering into Love (Live) °‧🫐𐙚⭒

“Defining Relationship Status Zone” 𓏲 ๋࣭ ࣪ ˖🎐

Synopsis: Motorsport fan and model, Y/n, and her thirst-filled tweets about Franco catch his attention, sparking a hilarious online banter that goes viral. As their playful exchanges become real connections, fans and media can’t get enough—will their chemistry survive offline?

Genre: Fluff, Crack, Slowburn, (Slight) Angst

AU: Social Media AU!

Pairing: Franco Colapinto x Fem!Reader

Warnings: Thirsty ahh reader (again), swearing, unserious jokes and unserious behavior, inaccuracies bc lets face it, even if you are an F1 you still get things wrong (😭)

Note: I did NOT expect the amount of support this would get when it’s still my first au, thank you guys so much, it means the world to me! as always don’t forget to like + reblog!

DRS Masterlist. (PREV. / NEXT.)

liked by gabyprentice_, littlefoxhermes and others.

ynbardot parents got confused and chose night out daughter

littlefoxhermes come see me soon babyy

— ynbardot counting on it!

francolapinto so pretty ey?

— francopinto ARIANA WHAT ARE YOU DOING HERE?

It was a slow, uneventful day, so you decided to liven things up by hopping on Instagram Live. You figured it’d be a good way to chat with your followers and share where you got your favorite jewelry pieces.

“This nameplate necklace?” you said, holding it up for the camera. “One of my friends got it for me when we went to Manhattan for my birthday. Isn’t it cute? She knows me too well—it’s literally my favorite thing ever.”

The chat lit up with comments asking about your other accessories, and you happily started sharing little stories about each piece. But soon, something unexpected caught your eye.

“Wait—guys, what? Franco is in here? Stop joking!” you said, narrowing your eyes at the screen in mock suspicion. “I’ll literally cry if you’re lying to me.”

Before you could even process the flood of comments confirming it, a message from Franco appeared: “Just here for jewelry recommendations 😏.”

Your laugh caught in your throat, and you tilted your head at the screen. “Oh… well, this is awkward. Hi, Franco~” you said with a playful smirk, leaning closer to your phone. “Trying to upgrade your accessory game, huh?”

The chat was in chaos, spamming reactions faster than you could read, but Franco wasn’t done. Another comment popped up: “Nah, just needed an excuse to say hi to my favorite model.”

You rolled your eyes, your cheeks burning as you tried to keep it cool. “Favorite model? Ha, ha. You probably say that to all the girls you meet, am I right?”

“Only the ones with nameplate necklaces and cute smiles,” he shot back. You swear you choked on your saliva, but you regained your composure when you were reminded of the thousands of people in your chat.

The comments were losing it now, a mix of “OMG” and “GET A ROOM” flooding your screen. You couldn’t help but laugh, shaking your head.

“Alright, Franco, if you’re gonna crash my Live, at least drop some real accessory tips,” you teased. “What do you know about jewelry?”

“I know the best accessories are ones you don’t have to buy,” he replied. “Like a certain necklace with MY name on it?”

Your jaw dropped, and you pointed at the screen in mock outrage. “Okay, that’s it! Get out of my Live!” you said through your laughter, though your blush gave you away.

As the playful banter continued, you couldn’t help but wonder: why was Franco on your Live in the first place? Was it pure coincidence, or had he been keeping tabs on you? Either way, one thing was clear—he knew exactly how to steal the show.

@fc4333 guys we’re finally getting the williams and y/n crossover we’ve been begging for 😭🙏

@colapintoes WILLIAMS PLS GIVE US THE CONTENT WE’VE BEEN BEGGING FOR

@racerbardot franco and y/n, the duo no one expected but got anyways and now we’re getting the crossover we’ve always wanted

@ynargentina not to mention franco accidentally joining her live 😭 poor guy was probably stalking her and ended up clicking her story

liked by ynbardot, jackdoohan and 832,554 others

francolapinto mix de un finde muy feliz 💫

williamsracing 🧉

ynbardot franco posts anything, and suddenly i’m an expert in appreciating the finer things in life

— felizpinto I’M CRYING

— ynbardot PLEASE LEAVE ME BE

liked by francolapinto, alexandrasaintmleux and others.

ynbardot singapore bound

flavy.barla safe travels baby 🤍

lilymhe see you soon!

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zepskies · 2 months ago

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Lost in Translation

Pairing: Soldier Boy (Ben) x Female POC!Reader

Summary: Living with this man isn’t easy, and you’ve absolutely had it with him. Supe or not, you’re one step shy of kicking him out. Will he try to make it up to you?

AN: So after getting requests for a Soldier Boy x POC!Reader, I’ve had a short series in development called Unravel Me. I’m a bit stalled on the outline right now, so I thought this could be a fun way to introduce their relationship and see if you guys think I should continue with the prequel, kind of like how I did with Checkerboard and the Break Me Down-verse.

This story would take place after Unravel Me, after a fair bit of character development lol. It also fulfills a bingo square for @jacklesversebingo!

Prompt: “Whatever you’re going to ask, the answer is No!”

Song Inspo: “Damage” by H.E.R.

Word Count: 3.4K

Tags/Warnings: 18+ only! Smut, bit of dirty talk, fingering, edging, some angst, fluff and feels. The reader is a mixed race POC (Afro Latina), with textured hair.

The apartment was quiet, but not peaceful.

You were in the kitchen washing the Mt. Everest of dishes piled in the sink, partly because someone hadn’t rinsed off his own plate of carne guisada.

Ben had asked for beef for dinner yesterday, and you’d graciously delivered with your grandmother’s recipe for the stew. It was filled with chunks of tender, fall-off-your-fork beef, garlic, onions, carrots, and more—all marinated to perfection, if you said so yourself. You even added in some little yellow potatoes, both for taste and texture.

Apparently, he couldn’t be bothered to put those meaty man muscles to good use, aside from shoveling three helpings into his mouth.

A bottomless pit and a freakin’ man-child, I swear to God, you inwardly groused as you scrubbed the ceramic a bit too hard with the rough side of the sponge. No matter how many times you asked, nicely, it seemed your boyfriend couldn’t manage to pull his weight around here.

Okay, you knew his job could be demanding, but so was yours.

What the hell is this, Maid in Manhattan? Newsflash: I’ve got shit to do too!

“And I cooked!” you muttered in indignation. That reminder propelled you to scrub a bit harder. The least he could do was clean the kitchen. Or take out the trash. Or toss the laundry into the washing machine once in a while. Like you really wanted to handle his dirty boxers all the damn time.

Did he have no shame? Couldn’t he do anything for you without you having to ask him three million times?

Es que él es bruto, mija, as your Dominican grandma would say about your grandpa, often while swiping a tired hand over her long braids. Es como un animal con ropa.

Just then, you heard his heavy steps creaking on the wood floors in your bedroom. Today was his day off, so he was probably taking his sweet time rolling his ass out of bed.

Meanwhile, you were hustling to get the place at least decently clean before you got yourself together for work. The thought made you simmer as you continued to place dishes on the counter rack. Each one clacking to rest was satisfying, but it also ticked up your internal dial to a fine boil.

You heard him bang the bathroom door open and cringed internally, your teeth grinding. You’d reminded him three times already about the neighbors and the noise.

Sabes que, supe or not, I’m about to—

“Morning, sweetheart.”

Ben’s voice washed over you, deep and still a little rough with sleep as he stepped into the kitchen. His old man loafers slid against the floor with every step when he approached you from behind, and his heavy hands found a familiar resting place on the curve of your waist.

He swiped your slightly wild curls to the side and pressed a tantalizing kiss into your neck. His voice, his touch, the brief scrape of his beard; it all caused a small shiver of delight up your spine.

“Hmm, you smell good. Good enough to eat.” And he teased you with the graze of his teeth, biting gently enough where your neck met your shoulder. You flinched with half a huff, trying not to smile.

Just like that, it took the edge off your irritation…a little. You opened your mouth to reply, but before you could…

“Hey,” he said, “since you’re already up and about in here, how about some breakf—”

Your spine tightened once again.

“Whatever you’re going to ask, the answer is No!” you snapped. You moved out of his arms to grab a hand towel to dry your hands with. They were all pruny from washing dishes.

“I’m already running late. Why? Because this place is a fucking mess, and the only one who seems to care is me!” you exclaimed. First, you gestured to the dishes now drying on the rack. “Hmm?”

You then opened up the lid to the full-to-bursting trashcan. “What do you call that, huh? You said you’d take this out last night. After I asked you twice. What, was I not speaking English? Did something get lost in translation, or are you already losing your hearing? Just let me know, ‘cause I can sure as hell crank up the volume for you!”

Ben raised a brow. You read his thoughts in his surly frown. You have some fucking audacity, talking to him like that, but it’s still early. He hasn’t even had his coffee, for Christ’s sake.

If he was more awake, no doubt he’d be barking back at you. Instead, he heaved a sigh, drew closer to you and shut the trashcan lid. At least there was one lid he knew how to close.

“All right, it’s just a little mess. No need to get fucking hysterical,” he said, trying to grasp your arm to placate you. You shrugged out of his hold and crossed your arms in anger.

“Ben, it’s not just a little mess. And what is this, 1945? I’m not hysterical!”

His lips twitched at a smirk, making you even angrier. But he’d caught enough smoke from you in the past to know he didn’t want it at 8:00 in the morning. He grasped your arms and rubbed them up and down, trying to sooth you.

“Okay, okay. It’s a little early for all this Latina temper, don’tcha think?” he said, pressing a kiss to your forehead. Your gaze snapped up at him with a glare.

Oooh, this man. He knew how to get you mad fucking tight.

Not in a good way.

Instead of exploding like Mount Fuji, you kept it all under your skin. You turned away from him and aimed to continue getting ready for work, but first, you took out a Greek yogurt from the fridge and wholly ignored him taking up space in the kitchen. You wouldn’t answer him when he called your name. In fact, you were going to give him the most frigid of cold shoulders—so cold he’d get hyperthermia through that invulnerable skin.

He waylaid your plans when he grabbed your hand, swinging you back into his arms. You gasped at the suddenness of it, looking up into his cocky, charming smile. You couldn’t stare too long at his green eyes, or the rest of his handsome, bearded face. Not when he knew exactly how to use it against you.

“Don’t think that’s gonna get you out of this,” you warned him. You set your yogurt on the kitchen counter and pushed at his chest, but it was no more effective than pushing at a mountain and expecting it to move.

His hands spanned your waist, his fingers beginning to press into your soft sides. He bowed his head, brushing his lips against your neck and the shell of your ear when he said, “Out of what, baby doll? Looks to me like we can still have a good morning.”

His voice once against trilled heat and tingles through your body, but you managed to lean back, holding the pads of your fingers to his lips.

“Hey, I’m not playing around here. If we’re gonna do this,” you pointed between him and yourself, “then let me make one thing really clear. I’m not la sirvienta around here, okay? I’m not your fucking maid. I’m your girl. Your partner. And since you live here now, I’m gonna need you to do your part.”

Ben almost rolled his eyes, but you grasped his chin. He frowned at you with furrowed brows. There was a time where he would've been inclined to grab your wrist and try to intimidate you with his temper. You saw it lying in wait behind his pursed lips and irritated stare, but you weren't afraid of him. Not anymore.

“Listen to me. I get that you haven’t lived like us commoners for most of your life, but this stuff is important,” you said. You took a deep breath, and you counted to three. You met him with a calmer gaze. “Ben, I love you.”

You let go of his chin and lowered your hand, letting it splay over his chest. He softened, ever so slightly, even though his frown remained.

“I love you,” you repeated, “but I don’t need a man-child.”

"Excuse me?" he did snap this time, his hold loosening from around your waist. "The fuck did you just say?"

You narrowed your eyes right back at him.

"You heard me," you said. "I want a man. A man who's going to be my rock when I need him. Can you do that for me, like I do for you? Are you gonna be my man, or do I need to claim you as a dependent on my taxes?"

His expression sharpened again at your thinly veiled accusation…but the longer he looked into your eyes, no longer angry, but earnest and imploring, the more he actually listened to what you were saying. His jaw worked for a moment in annoyance. You subtly softened him with your hands soothing up and down his arms, a slow back and forth over solid, warm muscle.

Eventually, he was able to curb his instinct to bark a callous reply. He nodded, expelling a breath through his nose.

“Fine,” he said.

Your brows rose. “Fine?”

“Yeah,” he said flatly.

You knew it was the closest you were going to get to an agreement, as well as an apology. You were still working on that last one, but dating this man was a work in progress, for both of you. With a sigh, you patted his arms that were slowly wrapping back around you.

“Okay, I’m really running late now,” you said.

“You should probably get a move on then,” Ben said.

Still, he didn’t release you. He stared down at you with an amused smile while you struggled against his hold. You uttered a laugh.

“Babe, I need to get to work.” You leaned over and spied the oven clock. “Oh, shit! it’s almost 8:30! If I’m not there by 9:00—”

“You sure you want to go now? Tense, body all tight,” he said, his voice deep with sensuous suggestion.

His lips neared yours, but he didn’t kiss you. Not yet. His lips veered away to brush against your cheek. He inhaled deeply as he moved, taking in the floral scent of your soap, mixed with the army of products you styled your hair with, and the faint imprint of your perfume from the night before. He skimmed down your neck and along the shell of your ear.

“Wouldn’t you rather I fuck all that tension right out of you?” he offered. “Leave you nice and warm and satisfied, have that pretty pussy coming hard on my cock.”

You let out a shaky breath, closing your eyes as his filthy mouth and the timbre of his voice struck a chord through your body, tinging warm arousal between your legs. Your fingers tightened on his strong arms, digging into the fabric of his loose robe. Ben took that as a wordless confirmation. He bent at the knees and grabbed you up by your plush thighs. You wrapped your arms around his neck on instinct, with a small gasp.

But you recovered quickly. Taking his face into your hands, you met his lips roughly with yours in a devouring kiss. He set you down on the kitchen counter hard enough to make the clean dishes rattle. His hands were just as claiming as his mouth, squeezing your hips and thighs as he spread them open to make more room for himself.

While your tongue dueled with his, you shoved the robe off his shoulders, followed by his sleep shirt pooling to the floor. His hand slid under your top as well, and almost ripped it at the hem in his haste to get it up and over your head.

“Ow, ah-ow!” You giggled when the collar got caught on your hair. Ben’s breathy chuckle reached your ears. He was gentler in how he helped get the shirt off the rest of the way. Your mane of hair fell into your face, and you huffed.

Ben did you the favor of brushing the thick curls away from your eyes, tugging several strands behind your ears, even though most of them didn’t obey him. He framed your face with his big hands, and his thumbs swept along your skin, the rich complexion shining in the morning light filtering through the kitchen window.

There was more care in his touch now, his strength tempered just for you. Fond amusement colored his features. For as much shit as you gave him, you still gave him more of yourself; more of your trust, your patience...and all the rest of it. You gave him more than anyone that had come before you, and deep inside, he doubted anyone that might come after you.

You smiled up at him, a little wryly. You leaned up and met him for a gentler kiss. Your eyes fell closed at the feeling of him, and the spicy hint of his aftershave. It was a scent that often clung to his pillows. When he was gone on a mission for days on end, you wouldn’t admit to clinging to one of them to help you sleep, and make you feel safe.

“Mmm, you smell good,” you whispered. And it was true. He smelled like mint and spicy aftershave. You plied his lips with deeper kisses, licking into his mouth with a sensuous tongue, before you stole his words. “Good enough to eat.”

He uttered a groan deep in his throat. It satisfied you, enhancing the warm flood between your legs.

Fuck it. You were calling in sick today.

You drew him back into the pull of you, winding your arms around his neck and your fingers in his hair. It was getting long again, but you liked it. You liked something to hold onto, just as much as he did. Your nails brushed against his scalp, down the back of his neck, earning a hum of pleasure from him. You wound your legs tightly around his hips and invited the press of his hard cock against your throbbing core, even through your panties and pajama pants. A faltering groan caught in his chest.

“Needier that I thought this morning,” he remarked. His warm hands drifted down to cup your breasts, his thumbs brushing over dark, pebbled nipples. You sighed into his mouth in response.

You heard the cocky grin in his voice, but for once, you didn’t care. You did need him. You wanted him to fuck the stress and chaos out of you.

…Well, he’d caused most of it, but still. He was gonna damn well fix it.

And he aimed to do just that, with his hands sliding farther down your body with purpose, grabbing the waistband of your pajama pants and roughly sliding them down, along with your panties. Your bare ass felt cold against the tile counter, but you didn’t have too much time to think about it with Ben’s thick fingers probing between the wet, glistening folds of your pussy. He soon found what he was searching for, circling firmly over your clit.

Your hips raised off the counter as you whimpered against his lips and ground yourself against his hand. You broke from his kiss to bury your face in his neck. Ben’s free hand grasped your hip and pulled you right to the edge of the counter.

There he held you down, his brows furrowing in concentration. His fingers sought your entrance and slipped inside you with ease. By now, he knew what angles would have you squirming, writhing, your body arching into him, while your inner walls clenched around his hand.

“Fuck. That’s right, baby doll. I’ve gotcha,” he said roughly, continuing to fuck your pussy with his fingers. His thumb rubbed against your clit between strokes.

The coil in your lower belly began to tighten, the delicious throbbing deep inside beginning to make your thighs shake. But just as you felt yourself tipping over the edge, Ben withdrew his fingers from your sopping channel.

You struggled to catch your breath in shock. Your head raised from Ben’s shoulder to glare at him. When your mouth opened to deliver an indignant protest, he silenced you with his mouth claiming yours. Your nails bit into his shoulder in retaliation, even though you knew it wouldn’t hurt him in the slightest. In fact, it only curved his lips into a smirk against yours.

You slapped him on the shoulder, immensely frustrated, but also laughing. “You’re such an assh—”

Before you could even finish cursing him, he gathered you up again and lifted you off the counter. He walked you over to the couch in the living room. He would’ve loved nothing better than to lay you out across the two-seater table in the kitchen, but he thought the shitty old wood might just give out under the strain of him fucking you. So the living room was a close second, and in this tiny-ass apartment, it was barely a few feet more to walk.

He laid you out underneath him on couch, and it groaned and squeaked under both of your weight. You squeaked too, if for a different reason. It had Ben smirking down at you. He freed himself from the confines of his pajama pants and coated his rock-hard arousal with the leftover wetness coating his hand.

“I approve of the scene change,” you said breathlessly, once again stroking his arms. Your fingers slipped over every dip and plain of muscle.

“Didn’t think you wanted to be fucked on some cold tile,” he said, even if the sentiment behind his words warmed you. You were pretty sure he didn’t used to care about that. At least, before he met you.

He grabbed your hips, lined himself up to your entrance, and his cock breached you smoothly, pushing into you until his hips fit snugly against yours.

“Oh, fuck,” you choked out, your thighs squeezing around his frame.

“Feel good, sweetheart? All fuckin' filled up,” Ben teased, a bit breathless himself. You were a tight fucking fit. He slid out of you experimentally, drawing a moan from your lips. You nodded.

“Yeah, baby. So good,” you freely admitted, panting all the while.

Ben’s hot gaze drew over you as he continued moving hard and fast inside you. He took in your every bare curve, the way hot breaths and sexy moans fell from your lips with every thrust, the way your hair fanned out underneath you and hung off the side of the sofa cushion, the way your hands still explored him and touched him, demanding, but still loving.

For that, it was all the more tantalizing against his skin, warming even the darkest places he tried not to show you.

And every drag of his cock inside you stretched your inner walls in the most delicious of ways. It wasn’t just that he was able to fill you to the fucking brim. He also just knew his way around a woman’s body. He knew you, and he knew exactly how to make you come undone. Even quick and dirty on your couch, he made you feel brand new.

He was right, damn him.

The coil deep inside you snapped. Pleasure crested through you and made your inner walls squeeze him tight, fluttering and pulsing with warmth. You came hard on his cock, hard enough to milk his release shortly after for all he was worth.

His forearms fell to the cushion on either side of your head. You were basically being smothered, but for the moment you didn’t mind. You just held his sweat-slick body against yours while you both caught your breath, each of your heartbeats falling back into a steady rhythm.

He was always so damn warm. It was nice, considering how cold it was this winter, but the thought always made you a bit sad. It reminded you of the power housed in his chest, and every memory he caged there as well.

You laid a gentle kiss on his shoulder. In return, his lips found the side of your head and hesitated there.

“You’re not going to work,” he said. It was more an observation than anything else.

You laughed breathlessly and shook your head. “Nope.”

He nodded. “Let’s go out for breakfast.”

You could get behind that. Your kitchen was finally clean, which meant your kitchen was closed until further notice.

“Shower first,” you stipulated.

You felt Ben’s smile grow against your dewy skin. “All right.”

You sighed, and he guided you to your feet along with him. You had a feeling “breakfast” was going to be lunch by the time you and Ben finally escaped this apartment.

AN: Lol hope you had fun with this one! Let me know if you'd like to see more of these two! 💚💚

Spanish Translations:

Es que él es bruto, mija. Es como un animal con ropa.

It’s that he’s stupid, my daughter. He's like an animal with clothes.

However, “bruto” can also mean brutish, crude, and/or like a beast, so it fits in more than one way. 😂

Sabes que, …

You know what, …

La sirvienta

The servant (or maid) (female)

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@bleuatlas @luci-in-trenchcoats @valerinapetrova @spnaquakindgdom @podiumackles

@ladykitana90

@lamentationsofalonelypotato (I believe you said you would like to be tagged in this one. If not, I'm sorry, friend. Please disregard! 💚)

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amica-aenigmata-naboo · 2 months ago

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Accident

David Howard Thornton x Y/N - drabble - 853 WC

Masterlist

Warnings: reader gets hurt on accident, actor reader, hospital, guilt, apologies, pretty fluffy tbh just watch out for the beginning because its Terrifier so ya know.... gore - ALSO, L/N just means last name

---------------------------------

You struggled against the sadistic clown above you. Blood covered you head to toe, your arms felt weak as you pushed against Art’s arms. He pressed the blade further, his strength outmatching yours. You begrudgingly grabbed the blade itself, blood dripping from your hands.You screamed as you felt the knife starting to press into your shoulder, the clown above laughing silently at your pain. The further the knife pressed the more you screamed, kicking and twisting underneath him to no avail as he straddled you.

“Stop!” you said, your voice hoarse from screaming. Your hands finally slipped the knife through as your blood made it too slippery to hold. The knife plunged into your shoulder and you let out a real, gut wrenching scream.

“CUT!” yelled Damien as he rushed over to you.

You rolled to your side clutching your arm as you sobbed.

“Somebody fucking page medical now! Call 911!” Damien yelled, his hands hovering around you; wanting to help but not knowing how.

David jumped off you, sitting in shock next to you. He didn’t know what to do, he was absolutely shocked. That knife was supposed to be a prop knife but it was hard to distinguish between them, it was the prop masters job to make sure the real knives for show never got mixed up between real and fake. David watched as the puddle of real blood emanated from your shoulder. This horrible pit in his stomach formed and he felt absolutely awful. He snapped out of it when you stopped moving and your eyes fluttered closed. He tossed the knife away, moving to you quickly to check your pulse. He breathed a sigh of relief when he felt it. Strong but fast.

“They probably passed out from the pain…” Damien said as he held pressure around your wound, keeping the knife in place.

Medical arrived and took over before the EMT’s loaded you up on a stretcher and took you to the ambulance.

“What hospital?” David asked as they started an IV and put an oxygen mask over your mouth and nose.

“Lenox Hill, we gotta go.” said the EMT before slamming the doors shut. The sirens turned on and before he knew it you were gone.

Set was eerily quiet, “I… I didn’t… It was an accident…” David stuttered. He could see the sympathy on everyone's faces.

Damien clapped his hand on David’s shoulder, “I know. Go get cleaned up and go to the hospital. Were done for the day. I’ll look into it all, trust me, somebody's getting fired.”

David nodded sullenly. Hair and makeup was a quick removal, they moved especially quick knowing David would want to get to you ASAP. He took the ferry from Staten Island to Manhattan, the 25 minute ride having him nauseous at the thought of how much pain you were in. As soon as the ferry docked he pushed through the crowds and rushed towards the hospital. The receptionist could see his worried face.

“Y/N L/N they were brought in by ambulance,” he said quickly.

“Fourth floor room 831, they’re in recovery. What is your relation to them, it’s only family visiting hours right now.” said the receptionist.

“Husband.” he said without hesitation.

“Alright, go on up. Elevators are around the corner.” she said, pointing.

David nodded before walking over and repeatedly pressing the elevator button. As soon as he arrived at your room he pushed his way in.

Your bright face smiled at him, you looked a little sleepy but that was all. “Hi baby.”

David stood in shock for a moment before shutting the door and walking over to the bed. “Honey I’m… I’m so sorry.” he said, his voice watery.

You held his face in your hands, “It was an accident. It was blunt enough that it only cut my muscle a tad, three inches deep, nothing more. No arteries or bones. Ten stitches and some pain killers and I’m good as new.” you moved your gown off your shoulder slightly, it was wrapped up but you just wanted to show him to show you were ok.

“I’m so sorry.” he whispered, his hand coming to rest on top of yours.

“Think Damien will put that shot in the movie?” you asked with complete seriousness.

David laughed before kissing your hand. “I bet if you ask he will. That scream was something else.”

You smiled, “I hope so. They said I can return to shooting in a few days, just have to take it easy. They’re getting my discharge paperwork ready as we speak.”

“My perfect little scream queen. So dedicated.” he joked.

You rolled your eyes before bringing him up to your face for a sweet kiss. You could feel how sorry he was. You kissed him over and over again sweetly.

“We should stop before your heart monitor alerts the nurses.” he said, both of you listening to the quickened beeping.

You both laughed, your cheeks tinted with an embarrassed blush. He kissed over your neck a few times, making heat drip over your most sensitive areas. “Later.” he smiled deviously.

--------------------------

Naboo's Note:

Hello! I hope ya'll like the new addition of our favorite boy who plays our favorite clown! Idk how to really write for Art so send in a request if you have an idea, I'd appreciate it! I feel like David is so underwritten for fanfics so I might pump out a few more for him in the near future. Thank you for all the love and support! XOXOXOXOXOX!!!!!!!!!!!!!

#terrifer 3 #terrifier #terrifer 2 #writing #art the clown #david howard thornton #david howard thornton x reader #david howard thornton x y/n #art the clown fanfic #art the clown x reader #art the clown x you #art the clown x y/n

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dailyrothko · 11 months ago

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Today is my birthday, so I thought I would share photos that I got recently and I'm very happy to have. These pictures have not been seen in this fine condition by almost anyone, (One was reproduced on the wall at the Paris show) and the top studio shot for years was only known to me in black and white.

𝗠𝗔𝗥𝗞 𝗥𝗢𝗧𝗛𝗞𝗢 𝗦𝗧𝗨𝗗𝗜𝗢 222 Bowery, Lower east side, Manhattan 📸 Herbert Matter © Herbert Matter Estate/ Stanford University. Libraries. Department of Special Collections and University Archives Artworks-© 2024 Kate Rothko Prizel & Christopher Rothko Artist Rights Society (ARS), New York

I don't have an official list of the paintings in these photographs I believe I recognize most of them, so these are my guesses:

Photo one and three- on the far left, partially obscured, No. 15, 1957, Oil on canvas

To the right of that- No. 12 (Black on Dark Sienna on Purple), 1960, Oil on canvas 120 1/8 × 105 ¼ in.

Continuing on the left side we have- No.8 (Gray, Orange and Maroon),1960

In the back up against the wall- No. 7, 1960, a painting that Rothko was famously photographed with by two different photographers

In the foreground- No. 21 (Untitled), 1949 Oil and mixed media on canvas 94 × 53 3/8 in. (238.8 × 135.6 cm)

To the right of that and leaning up against the wall is Untitled, No 11 / No 20, 1949 Oil on canvas, 238,1 × 134,9 cm

The partially obscured red painting on the back wall to the right I do not recognize. But if anybody does, please let me know.

Picture two-No 61 (Rust and blue), 1953, Oil on canvas, 115 cm × 92 cm (45 in × 36 in)

#mark rothko #markrothko #rothko #daily rothko #dailyrothko #abstract expressionism #modern art #abstraction #colorfield #ab ex #colorfield painting #mid century #artist studio #herbert matter'

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literaryvein-reblogs · 3 months ago

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More Writing Notes: Cocktails

Traditionally, a cocktail (or a mixed drink) is a beverage that contains a mixture of alcoholic spirits combined with other ingredients, such as simple syrups, tonics, bitters, fruit juice, club soda, or other fizzy waters.

Today you can also find a variety of nonalcoholic spritz cocktails that combine alcohol-free spirits with mixer ingredients.

6 Mixology Tools

Bar spoon: long-handled spoon that makes it easy to stir drinks in tall glasses or pitchers.

Citrus juicer: extracts juice from citrus fruits and vegetables by shredding the flesh of the food item.

Cocktail glasses: there are several different shapes of cocktail glasses, and each corresponds to a different type of mixed drink.

Cocktail shaker: A shaker is a tall container (usually metal) that makes it easy for bartenders to shake crushed ice and cocktail ingredients together to quickly cool down the beverage.

Cocktail strainer: The strainer fits over the shaker and lets you pour the cocktail into the glass while leaving behind the ice and any other ingredients, like herbs, that you used to shake the cocktail.

Muddler: When a cocktail recipe includes directions to muddle ingredients, usually fruit or herbs, it means to smash them to release the essential oils and fruit pulp. A muddler is a small handheld rod that lets you easily muddle ingredients in a cocktail glass.

Some Popular Cocktails

Bloody Mary: This classic brunch cocktail contains vodka mixed with tomato juice, horseradish, Worcestershire sauce, hot sauce, and a combination of herbs and spices. Bartenders typically serve a Bloody Mary in a tall glass, such as a pint glass or highball glass, and garnish with a celery stick.

Daiquiri: One of the classic rum cocktails, a daiquiri contains rum (white rum or Cuban rum), lime juice, and simple syrup. Today’s drink menus typically contain a variety of daiquiris that range from classic cocktails like the Hemingway Daiquiri (which contains lime juice, grapefruit juice, and Italian maraschino liqueur) to fruity cocktails like a shaken strawberry daiquiri.

Gimlet: Contains three ingredients: vodka (or gin), fresh lime juice, a splash of simple syrup for added sweetness, and an optional lime wedge for garnish.

Manhattan: Containing whiskey (or sometimes cognac), sweet vermouth, and a few dashes of bitters, the Manhattan is a simple yet elegant cocktail. The classic cocktail, which was invented in New York, is stirred, not shaken, and garnished with a maraschino cherry.

Margarita: There are several variations of margarita recipes. The classic margarita is served over ice cubes and contains lime juice, tequila (or mezcal), orange liqueur (such as Cointreau or triple sec), and lime and salt for the garnish. Experiment with other flavors—use lemon juice instead of lime, add a dash of agave syrup to sweeten the drink, or add a hint of spice with the addition of a few slices of jalapeño. For those who prefer fruit flavors, try making a watermelon, pomegranate, or strawberry margarita.

Martini: The classic martini is a boozy cocktail. The original contained three parts gin to one part vermouth with an olive or onion to garnish. A vodka martini calls for vodka in place of gin. Other drinks—such as an espresso martini, fruity drinks, or vodka cocktails like a cosmopolitan (often called a Cosmo), pear, or apple martini (also called an appletini)—are not considered martinis. Instead, they get their name from the cocktail glass.

Mint julep: Famous as the refreshing cocktail served at the Kentucky Derby horse racing events, a mint julep contains bourbon, simple syrup, and a muddle of mint. It’s typically served over crushed ice with a sprig of mint leaves.

Mojito: A highball cocktail with origins in Cuba, the mojito is a popular cocktail across the globe. Mix up white rum, sugar, mint, lime, and club soda (or soda water), and then add ice. The mojito is often called a perfect summer cocktail.

Moscow mule: Contrary to its name, the Moscow mule cocktail likely originated in New York, not the Russian capital. To make the fizzy drink combine vodka, ginger beer, and lime juice, and garnish with lime slices and sprigs of mint. It’s usually served in a copper mug, though food experts note the copper does not impact the flavor of the drink.

Negroni: With its balance of sweet and bitter, a classic Negroni is an ideal apéritif. Combine equal parts gin, Campari (or Aperol), and sweet vermouth. Shake them with ice and serve the drink with an orange twist. Other varieties of Negronis add additional layers of flavors using ingredients such as orange bitters, Champagne or prosecco, and a lime or lemon twist.

Piña colada: This favorite summer cocktail, which reportedly originated in San Juan, Puerto Rico, is traditionally made with white rum, pineapple juice, cream of coconut, and a squeeze of lime juice, and served with fresh pineapple for garnish. Blend the ingredients with ice cubes to create a slushie drink.

Tequila Sunrise: With only three ingredients, fresh orange juice, tequila, and grenadine syrup, the Tequila Sunrise tastes best when you use high-quality ingredients. White tequila is recommended for a fresher taste and a more vibrant color. You can make a variation of the cocktail called the Coconut Sunrise, which uses coconut rum instead of tequila.

Source ⚜ More: Writing Notes & References ⚜ Cocktails ⚜ Food History

#writing notes #cocktail #writeblr #food #spilled ink #writing reference #literature #writers on tumblr #poets on tumblr #dark academia #writing prompt #poetry #light academia #creative writing #fiction #writing resources

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iguessthisisanewobsession · 7 months ago

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Rent is a terrible musical and Jason will not be the first person in Gotham to voice this opinion

it's a musical that while having the backdrop of the story being about revolution against an upper class that refuses to make anyone uncomfortable. The status quo is not rocked so people with money can still relate.

The entire character cast are assholes, even the kindest of the main cast still murdered a dog and sang a catchy tune and had no remorse afterwards.

the show never really goes anywhere, character 's don't change and frankly don't care to.

It idealizes drug use and being poor, while there is a subplot for the homeless, there is no care shown for them and kind of implies a choice to be homeless.

That being said he was in the main cast as angel.

Jason is a hypocrite but is well aware of the fact unlike the rest of his family.

He doesn't choose the musical, the director did, and when he had a role time seems to slow down.

Being a vigilante, everything is fast paced, you need to get ducks in a row before one of the ducks takes out an third of the alley.

But to be able to shelf that mindset, even if only for the rehearsals it was nice.

That being said, artistic liberality is a thing.

To hell with angel going into the light peacefully, it ain't right for someone dying of a disease that can be treated.

If you wanted a show about romanticizing dying from a disease than you should go to the opera they tried to be with La bohème and tuberculosis.

No Jason is going to lasso his rage and put a pretty mask on it until he feels the need to put his own twist on a scene.

#dp x dc #writing prompt #dc x dp #rent the musical #derogatory #listen i got a lot of mixed emotions on this musical #it was the first time i saw queer rep in media #i still love the sound of the songs #but it is RIDDLED with flaws in a story teller's eyes #that being said my brain went “hey.. what if?”#mix up manhattan #i want Jason to tear into this musical like a rabid dog whenever someone asks but still do amazing on set #you can guess who Danny plays this time around #director: if you have such big feelings about rent than why don't you just rewrite us a play and we'll all see how you do #Jason: say less #no one's bad for liking rent #you just must be aware of it's shortcomings #All I could think about was the batfam's reaction to Jason in a casket again after his spin on Angel #they would not cope well #the reprise of “I'll cover you” will not help with everyone's confusion on if Jason and Danny are in a relationship

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moonxknightx · 5 months ago

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♡˗ˏ✎*ೃ˚ :SUMMER FLING (PT1) : :;

╰┈➤ ❝ [PAIRING] ❞ Hugh Jackman x F!Reader

・❥・GENRE: Fluff :))

ੈ✩‧₊˚ WARNINGS: Literally none!

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥SUMMARY: In the peaceful town of Portofino, you run a café that offers a calm escape from New York. When Hugh Jackman, being on a long due holiday, started frequenting your café, you try to keep things friendly and low-key. As summer progresses, your conversations grow more engaging, and you begin to look forward to his visits, hoping that maybe, it can bloom into something more.

THE SOUND OF THE BELL ABOVE THE DOOR CHIMED SOFTLY AS YOU FLIPPED THE SIGN ON YOUR BOOKSTORE CAFE TO, Aperto. The sun was just beginning to rise over the glittering sea of Portofino, casting a golden glow across the picturesque Italian town. The cobbled streets were still quiet, with only the occasional scooter whirring by. It was early yet, but you had always enjoyed the calm before the bustle, when it felt like the whole world was still asleep, and this tiny corner of paradise belonged only to you.

After moving here from New York two years ago, you had found a rhythm. Your café-bookstore, Il Sogno, had quickly become a favorite of both locals and tourists. With its shelves lined with well-worn books and the scent of fresh espresso hanging in the air, it was your sanctuary—a world away from the chaos of Manhattan.

You pulled a fresh batch of pastries from the oven just as the door opened, and in walked your most faithful customer and friend, Signora Rossi. Every morning without fail, she’d be there, perched at the window with her espresso and biscotti, watching the town slowly wake up.

“Buongiorno, cara!” she greeted you with a smile, her voice warm with familiarity. She was in her late sixties, her grey hair pulled into a neat bun, her eyes sharp and full of mischief. She was like a second mother, always full of gossip and advice, especially when it came to your love life—or lack thereof.

“Morning, Signora,” you said, pouring her usual espresso.

“Did you hear about the new mystery man who arrived yesterday?” she asked, leaning over the counter as though she had the juiciest secret in town.

You laughed, shaking your head. “I swear, nothing escapes you, does it?”

“Of course not,” she replied, her eyes twinkling. “He’s rented the villa by the sea. You know, the one with the view of the harbor. No one knows who he is, but I’ve heard he’s famous.”

“Famous?” You raised an eyebrow, handing her the cup. “What, like a movie star?”

“Perhaps,” she mused, stirring her espresso. “But he’s been very quiet, very private. It’s only a matter of time before someone figures it out. Maybe he’ll come into your café, and you’ll charm him.”

You chuckled, rolling your eyes playfully. “Maybe he’ll just want his coffee in peace.”

~🌻~

But as the morning went on, you couldn’t help but wonder. A famous stranger in Portofino? It wasn’t unusual for celebrities to vacation in the area, but something about the mystery piqued your curiosity.

Hours passed, and the café began to fill with its usual mix of locals and tourists. You were busy behind the counter, making lattes and chatting with customers when the door chimed again. You glanced up from the espresso machine, ready with your typical warm greeting, and froze.

He stood in the doorway, sunglasses perched on his nose, casually dressed in a simple white T-shirt and jeans. There was something about him—his presence, the way he carried himself—that made you do a double-take. You knew that face.

Hugh Jackman.

The mystery man. You immediately recognized him, but years in New York had taught you how to keep your cool around famous people. You bit back your surprise and forced yourself to act normal.

“Good afternoon,” you said with a smile. “What can I get you?”

He smiled—warm, friendly, and entirely unassuming, which caught you off guard. “G’day! A cappuccino, please,” he replied, his Australian accent unmistakable.

As you prepared his cappuccino, you couldn’t help but sneak glances at him. He was taller than you expected, and even more handsome in person, if that was possible. But what stood out was how calm and down-to-earth he seemed, nothing like the larger-than-life characters he played on screen.

When you handed him the cup, he took a seat near the window, pulling a book from his bag—a copy of The Count of Monte Cristo, one of your favorites. He seemed so at ease, as if he belonged in this small-town café, far removed from the spotlight.

You busied yourself with other customers, but every now and then, your eyes would wander to him. Part of you wanted to say something—anything—to break the ice, but what would you say? “Hey, you’re Wolverine” seemed a bit much.

Instead, you let him enjoy his coffee in peace. You couldn’t help but smile when Signora Rossi came in again not long after and spotted him immediately. She practically squealed with excitement.

“Oh mio Dio!” she whispered, gripping your arm as she looked over at Hugh. “That’s him, the mystery man! Hugh Jackman!”

You suppressed a laugh, nodding. “Yes, I know.”

“And you’re not going to say anything?” she asked, incredulous.

“I think he’d rather enjoy his coffee without being mobbed.”

Signora Rossi huffed but sat down, unable to keep her eyes off Hugh. Meanwhile, you kept sneaking glances as well, but you didn’t say a word.

Just as you were wiping down the counter, Hugh stood up and approached. Your heart gave a little jump as he walked toward you, holding his empty cup.

“That was the best cappuccino I’ve had in a long time,” he said, his smile genuine.

You shrugged, playing it cool. “I try.”

He laughed softly, glancing around the café. “This is a nice place. How long have you had it?”

“About two years,” you replied, feeling more at ease now that he was talking to you like any other customer. “Moved here from New York. Decided I needed a change of pace.”

“New York, huh?” He raised an eyebrow, clearly intrigued. “I know that feeling.”

There was something in the way he said it—like he, too, was running from something. The two of you locked eyes for a moment, and you felt a flicker of connection. But then, just as quickly, he smiled again, and the moment passed.

“Well, thanks again for the coffee,” he said, pulling out his wallet to pay.

You waved him off. “On the house. Consider it a welcome to Portofino.”

He looked at you, surprised but grateful. “Thanks. I’ll definitely be back.”

He held out his hand, his touch warm and firm as you shook it. “I’m Hugh, by the way.”

You smiled, feeling a slight blush on your cheeks. “Nice to meet you, Hugh.” You said before telling him your name.

With that, he left, the bell chiming softly behind him. You watched as he walked down the street, his figure disappearing into the sunlight. There was a new excitement in the air, a spark of something more than just a casual encounter.

Signora Rossi was practically vibrating with excitement. “You didn’t even ask for a picture!”

You laughed, shaking your head. “He’ll be back.”

As you turned back to the counter, a small smile tugged at your lips. Maybe this summer wouldn’t be so uneventful after all.

~🌻~

A few days passed, and just as Hugh had promised, he returned. He’d become something of a regular at Il Sogno, always slipping in quietly in the morning, ordering a cappuccino, and settling into his usual spot near the window with a book. You’d exchange polite smiles and brief pleasantries, but nothing more than that. He seemed to enjoy the peaceful anonymity, and you didn’t want to disrupt his quiet.

The locals, however, were not so subtle. Every time he came in, you caught people stealing glances or whispering to each other, no doubt recognizing him. But Hugh seemed unfazed, content to sit by himself, unnoticed for the most part.

~🌻~

It was a Thursday afternoon when things finally changed. The café was quieter than usual, only a couple of tables occupied by some tourists flipping through the books they’d found on your shelves. The air was warm, with a soft breeze drifting in from the open door, carrying the scent of the sea.

You were wiping down the counter when you noticed Hugh had taken a different seat than usual—this time, at the counter. He slid onto the barstool across from you, cappuccino in hand, giving you that same easy smile.

“Slow day, huh?” he asked, his voice casual as he took a sip from his cup.

“Yeah, it gets quieter after lunch. The tourists are usually at the beach by now,” you replied, setting the rag aside. It was strange to see him up close, talking to you like this, but strangely, it felt... nice. Familiar, even.

“Perfect time for a coffee, then,” he said, his gaze wandering around the café before settling back on you. “You’re lucky. This place is something special. Must’ve taken guts to move all the way from New York and start this up.”

You smiled, leaning slightly against the counter. “It wasn’t easy, but I needed the change. New York is... a lot. Portofino is the opposite—quiet, calm. Exactly what I needed.”

Hugh nodded, understanding flashing in his eyes. “I know the feeling. I came here for the same reason—needed to get away for a while, clear my head.”

There was something in his tone, a hint of exhaustion hidden beneath his easygoing demeanor. You could relate—life in the city had a way of wearing people down, even someone like Hugh.

“So,” he continued, taking another sip, “have you always wanted to run a bookstore café?”

You chuckled softly, wiping your hands on a towel. “Honestly? No. I studied literature in university and always dreamed of being a writer, but... running this place has become something I love more than I expected.”

Hugh’s eyes lit up with interest. “Literature major? That explains the excellent book selection here. I’ve picked up a few from your shelves already.”

You smiled, feeling a flush of pride. “I try to keep it interesting. What are you reading right now?”

He tapped the cover of The Count of Monte Cristo he had with him. “A classic. One of my favorites. What about your favorites?”

“Oh love that book! I already saw you with it one time. I have a soft spot for anything by Fitzgerald,” you admitted. The Great Gatsby... it’s been my favorite since I was a teenager.”

Hugh smiled warmly. “Ah, Fitzgerald. A romantic at heart.”

“Yeah, I guess so,” you said with a small laugh, tucking a loose strand of hair behind your ear. “I’m a sucker for those tragic love stories.”

“Well,” Hugh said, his tone teasing, “I’m not sure that’s the healthiest thing to admit.”

You laughed, the sound filling the quiet café with a warm, inviting tone. There was a spark in his eyes that made you feel more connected than ever, and you couldn’t help but notice the subtle way he leaned closer, as if the conversation was something he genuinely cherished.

“I guess I like my love stories with a bit of drama,” you replied, your eyes meeting his with a playful glint.

Hugh leaned forward slightly, resting his elbows on the counter. “So, does that mean you believe in happy endings, or...?”

You paused, feeling the intensity of his gaze. There was something deeply intimate in the way he looked at you, making you feel as if the café had faded away and it was just the two of you. “I think... I like the idea of them,” you said softly.

Hugh’s expression softened, and he smiled warmly. “Yeah, me too.”

The moment hung between you, filled with unspoken possibilities. The air seemed to shimmer with the promise of something more, something beyond the casual encounters of the past few days.

Just then, the door chimed again, and a group of tourists entered, their laughter and chatter breaking the spell. Hugh glanced at them, then back at you. “Looks like your peaceful café just got a bit livelier.”

You chuckled. “Looks like it. I’ll get back to work, but feel free to stay as long as you like.”

Hugh nodded, standing up. “I think I might just take you up on that at another time. I have a ticket for a tour this afternoon. But thank you for your company.”

As he left, the door chimed softly behind him. You watched him walk down the street, a part of you wishing he’d stay a bit longer. The gentle buzz of the café returned, but the earlier conversation lingered, making you smile with a mix of excitement and contentment.

~🌻~

Later that afternoon, while you were tidying up the shelves, Signora Rossi approached with a knowing smile.

“You seem quite taken with our new guest,” she remarked, her eyes twinkling with mischief.

You looked up, surprised by her observation. “Oh, it’s not like that. We’ve just been talking.”

“Talking and talking,” she said, her grin widening. “He’s a charming man. And it’s clear he enjoys your company.”

You blushed slightly, trying to hide your smile. “I suppose he does.”

Signora Rossi’s eyes twinkled. “Well, don’t be surprised if something more comes of it. Sometimes, summer in Portofino has a way of making dreams come true.”

You laughed, shaking your head. “I’m not sure about that, but I do enjoy his company.”

~🌻~

As the days went on, Hugh became more than just a regular customer; he became a fixture in your daily routine. Each visit was marked by easy conversation and shared laughter. You started to look forward to his visits more and more, the highlight of your day.

One warm evening, as you were closing up the café, Hugh arrived. He looked slightly more relaxed than usual, as if the vacation had already begun to work its magic on him.

“Evening,” he greeted with a broad smile.

“Evening!” you responded, locking the door behind him. “What’s the occasion?”

“Just felt like enjoying the evening here,” he said, taking a seat at the counter. “Do you have any recommendations for a good spot to watch the sunset?”

You thought for a moment, then suggested a secluded spot by the harbor. “It’s a bit of a walk, but it’s worth it. Perfect for watching the sunset.”

Hugh’s eyes lit up with interest. “That sounds perfect. Maybe we could go together sometime?”

You felt a flutter of excitement at the invitation. “I’d like that.”

As you finished up for the evening, you and Hugh talked about your favorite spots in Portofino, and he shared more about his travels and experiences. The connection between the two of you seemed to deepen, and as the sun set over the small town, you couldn’t help but feel that this summer was turning into something unexpectedly special.

You said your goodbyes with a promise to meet up the next day to watch the sunset. As you watched Hugh walk away into the twilight, you felt a mix of anticipation and contentment. This summer was shaping up to be far more than you’d ever imagined.

🏷️: @marvelgirlie-4 @melaninjoys @selencgraphy @iluvfanficsstuff @princessanglophile @persiar9 @cici-sunshine @kissmxcheek @mihaser @pedroscurls @shybluebirdninja @starryeddie @kellyxo1 @ivhoery @whimsiwitchy @corvusmorte @mega-kittyglitter-1 @insomniachox @plagued-kitty @girlydollydarling @gingerplague @cskidjgsjaoaknayan52782 @mother-petunia @arthurcerverogf @white-wolf-buckaroo @boomveronika @chronicallybubbly @subbbyharry @reidsworld @acescutejeans-1247 @shukirschtein14 @wolviesgirl @rediscoveringgemma @snowyminty @softheobsessedone @erik4mc0 @tinawantstobeadoll @seasonofthenerd @pookeymoo @tnu-ree @weskerussy @queenblair92 @coco177 @giuliahowlett @samsbirks @pear-1206 @needz1nk @lunarynn @bobthe-turmpetman29 @lindonelvenqueen @mica-2203 @alexandralibbre @dragovegogrimborn @kanedaluvr

I AM SO EXCITED TO SHARE THIS STORY WITH YOU ALL!!

(I’m sorry if some of the tags aren’t working, i tried to change them but Tumblr doesn’t let me, i’ll try again in the next chapter! )

If you would like to be added to the tag list, let me know ❤️

#hugh jackman x reader #hugh jackman fluff #hugh jackman imagines #hugh jackman #deadpool and wolverine #logan howlett #wolverine

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houseofripley · 1 year ago

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Hotel Hell

Rhea Ripley x Fem!Reader

Hotel - Montell Fish

Part Two Pinterest

WARNINGS: 18+ SMUT, Overstimulation, Cunnilingus, Strap-On, Extreme Knife Play, Blood Play, Handcuffs, Rough Sex, Just Pure Filth tbh WORD COUNT: 2,586 A/N: inspired by hotel by montell fish. my brain turned to jello while making this. mood board for this below okay toodles

Room 936.

Rhea Ripleys room was always Room 936.

It was routine at this point. Show up, get your brains fucked out, leave right away. Repeat every three months.

Rhea was a brooding woman you came across as you worked at a concert venue in lower Manhattan a year and a half ago. Rhea sat alone in a balcony club booth as Bring Me The Horizon's live music blared through the concert hall.

Once the night had ended you shuffled through tab receipts, Rhea’s bill boasted a 50% tip and a scribbled phone number and address at the bottom.

That night you took the risk, catching yourself in a never ending loop.

You stepped into the room after entering the pin code. Your eyes searched for Rhea’s figure in the dark room being dimly lit up by the city lights seeping through the floor to ceiling windows.

You dropped your bag filled with a change of clothes on the floor. You learned to take an extra change of clothes as Rhea picked up a tendency of ripping your clothes to shreds.

“here.” You shot a text to the woman before placing your phone on a side table you passed as you made your way to the large windows.

Getting caught up admiring New York City you were pulled out of your trance as the cold edge of a switchblade was placed against your neck. Another hand wrapped around your waist from behind, Rhea pulled herself against your back.

“Don’t say a goddamn word” Rhea murmured inches from your ear. The woman had you frozen in fear, she had never brought a knife upon you.

Your breath anchored as the blade moved to slash both the straps of your loose slip dress. Rhea nibbled at the back of your neck as the dress slowly glided down your body.

Rhea shed her blazer and trousers off her masculine build. The woman shoved you down to your knees before pulling a nearby armchair up to the window.

“I want this whole city to watch you devour my pussy.” Rhea declared. As you slowly crawled in between her thighs as she removed her long sleeve button up.

You looked up at her as you pulled down her boxers. Your tongue trailed up her folds, your warm lips pecked Rhea’s clit. “So good” You quietly praised.

A bitter slap was placed across your face causing a whimper to escape from your mouth. “Nobody told you to fucking speak slut.” Rhea scrutinized, “Now get back to work.”

You sluggishly nodded before attaching your lips to the woman's heat. Your tongue worked in circles and trails as her hips rolled against your face.

Rhea and you held eye contact while you shook your head left and right, moaning against her heat. Something was off about Rhea tonight, there was something sinister about her demeanor.

Rhea took a firm hold onto the roots of your hair as your tongue toyed with her entrance. You hummed as you dove into her, her juices mixed with your saliva on your chin.

You worked on Rhea as her orgasm neared. She let you taste her for several more moments before yanking you way as she was seconds away from releasing onto you. Rhea had just edged herself using you as her personal toy.

She stood up, pulling you up by your hair as you whined. “Stop your fussing.” Rhea demanded, taking a grasp of your chin.

Rhea unclasped your bra and slid it down your shoulders before pulling you to the bed. She threw you towards the center of the bed before crawling up between your legs.

Your teeth bit down on the inside of your cheek as you watched her pull her switchblade from her bra. Rhea danced the blade across your thighs, the fear she sensed from you seemingly put her under a trance.

The blade pressed down against your soft thighs. Rhea shred the skin of your shaking legs, dark red blood began bubbling up from the cut.

You let out a pained whimper as Rhea’s tongue collected your blood. Your hands clung onto the sheets as Rhea left multiple cuts scattered across your thighs.

“So fuckin’ sexy,” Rhea whispered as her hands spread the blood around your legs. Her blood covered hand clasped the switchblade as she began to mangle your panties.

Bloodied fingers separated your folds, Rhea’s tongue glazed over your slick. Rhea’s eyes darted up at you, your eyes full of desperation.

“Such a tasty girl,” Rhea’s voice was menacing, it was clear she planned on destroying you tonight.

Rhea’s lips wrapped around your clit, her tongue piercing slowly rolling over your bud of nerves. Her eyes rolled back into her head as a moan left your throat.

A quiet “fuck.” exited your lips as two blood stained fingers slipped into your wetness. Your hips rocked while Rhea’s fingers pushed and pulled from inside of you, her tongue rocking against your clit.

Clusters of moans escaped you as the woman's fingers curled up inside of you. “I’m gonna fucking cum,” you hissed out, your legs squeezing around Rhea’s head. Her mouth worked like magic on you while her fingers pierced into you.

“Ah shit!” Echoed around the room as your hips twitched against Rhea’s humming lips. You whimpered out, releasing your tension onto Rhea’s fingers.

Rhea moaned as she sucked on her cum coated fingers. “Always cumming so fast for me,” She preached out. “I’m just getting started babydoll.”

You looked down at your blood coated legs, clenching your jaw as the pain began catching up to you. Rhea lurched over to the closet, bending down over her bulky overnight bag.

The woman soon returned back to you with her strap-on in one hand and a vibrating wand in her other.

She placed her strap next to her trusty switchblade. Humming as she gazed down at you she turned the vibrator on and placed it against your sensitive clit.

“Fuck Rhea,” You whined out, still fragile from you orgasm that took place moments ago.

Rhea soon joined you, lowering her core on the bulb of the vibrator. The woman let out a husked groan as she began rocking herself against the toy.

She reached for her blade, only to be stopped by your hand darting down grabbing her wrist. “Rhea please, no!” Your voice pleaded. Rhea looked down at you, pure rage covered her face.

The brooding woman lowered herself inches from your face “Let go right fucking now or I will plunge this knife right into your goddamn cunt.” Rhea threatened under her heavy breaths.

You loosened the already weak grip you had on her wrist. “That’s what I thought.” Rhea snarked tracing the blade down your sweat filled chest.

Tears glazed your eyes as the blade sank into the soft skin of your lower abdomen. You moaned out whimpers watching Rhea brand her name onto you.

“Look at you, what a pathetic bloody mess.” Rhea taunted beginning to thrust into the vibrator resting against your core.

The knot in your stomach grew larger as the toy was repeatedly pushed further against your clit.

A loud yelp rang around the room, a stream of clear liquid sprayed from your insides, soaking Rhea’s legs.

“Just way too easy.” Rhea grinned watching you attempt to jerk away from the vibrator. The more you squirmed, the more pressure she put against you. “Please no mo-'' Rhea shushed you before you were able to complete your sentence.

It was mere minutes until a pool of cum dripped out of your cunt. Rhea finally removed the vibrator from your skin. Both your legs tangled into each other as Rhea’s cunt settled onto your wetness.

Her head threw back as she grinded against your soaked core. “Can’t t-take anymore!!” You cried out.

Sweat pooled at Rhea’s forehead “Don’t lie-” grumbled out her mouth “I know you better than you know yourself…” Escaped through heavy breaths. Her fingertips dug into your waist as her orgasm approached.

The tribbing motions shortened while her speed increased. “Such a good fuck toy mmph” Rhea slurred out. Your brain was unable to process anything other than the overwhelming stimulation between your legs as pitiful moans left your mouth.

“Aagh fuck!” Rhea’s voice howled as she came undone against you. She slowly fucked herself onto you, coming down from her high.

Rhea sat back attempting to catch her breath. You tried to sit up but Rhea halted you, putting a hand on your chest. “I’m not done with you bitch.” She growled, shuffling around as she tried to get her strap-on tightened to her body.

“Fuck you,” You muttered quietly. If she wanted to push you towards your limit you were gonna piss her off as much as you possibly could.

Rhea crawled back between your legs, she rammed the black silicone into you with no care in the world how much pain she caused you. She pulled her face up to yours, the switchblade made a reappearance pressed against your throat. “What the fuck did you just say to me?” Her voice was full of fury.

“I said, Fuck. You.” You raised your voice, spitting at Rhea.

The blade pressed further into your skin, one swipe from stealing all the life inside your body.

Rhea’s hips began smashing into you, abusing your insides. Rhea’s free hand delivered a blow to your cheek. Not a slap, a cruel punch.

You cupped your injured cheek as cries escaped your mouth. Rhea backed away from your face, “You wanna act like a fucking bitch? I’ll make sure you know to never disrespect me again you stupid whore!” You had never heard Rhea’s voice this loud.

The blade was moved down your torso, ready to attack if you dared to misbehave. Rhea’s free hand took hold of your throat, squeezing at the sides.

You knew that one word could make this torture stop. She’d cut it out if you blurted out your safeword. You masochistically wanted to know how much more you could take. Your hands took hold of your tits as Rhea’s hips continued their assault on your insides, your moans loud enough you were sure you’d be receiving noise complaints.

Rhea used the flat edge of her blade to push your hand off your tits. “Whores like you don't get to touch themselves.” She stated as her strokes into you deepened.

Rhea made sure you felt her anger with every stroke.

“Tell me who owns this pussy.” Rhea murmured, smirking as she realized you were dozed off into space

You had got so caught up in pleasure Rhea had practically fucked you till you were braindead.

The blade in Rhea’s hand gashed the skin on your ribs, snapping you out of your trance. The wound was much deeper than all previous cuts Rhea had given you.

“I asked who owns this pussy slut. Use your fucking words.” It wasn’t a demand, it was a threat. Her eyes seemingly pierced through your soul.

“Fucking shit!” You yelped out, your torso recoiling in pain. “You do Rhea! You own this pussy!” Your voice rang around the room, her control over you was intoxicating.

“Good girl, hm” Rhea said as her face displayed a ‘fuck you’ grin. She closed her eyes as she took in the sounds escaping from you.

You took this moment to reach down your bloodied torso and began rubbing circles over your clit. “Fuck Rhea,” You whispered out as her eyes slowly opened.

Rheas eyes filled with rage seeing you touch yourself under her. “Stupid slut cant even listen to simple rules.” She berated before slapping down on your fresh wound. “Don’t do that!” You cried out.

Rhea pulled out of your sore hole. She got off the bed and dragged you to the edge of the mattress before flipping you onto your stomach. She disappeared into the bathroom for a moment as your blood soaked into the white sheets. Rhea soon returned with a pair of handcuffs.

She forced your hands behind your back and locked you up. “You just never fucking learn don’t you…” She taunted.

Rhea stood you up and led you over to the window. She bent you over, holding onto your restrained hands to help you keep your balance.

“Now everyone gets to see what a slut you are for me.” Rhea chuckled as she re-inserted herself into you.

A loud moan escaped you, her hips jolting into you as clapping noises began ringing through the room. “That's it take my cock,” Rhea hummed as she made sure every inch of her length was inside of you.

“Harder!” You pleaded, watching as droplets of your blood dropped down to the carpet. You squealed as Rhea’s strokes began to speed up causing you to squirt all over yourself again. “Such a needy girl,” Rhea degraded while laughing.

Rhea had put you through hell and your brain was borderline fried, you weren't able to do anything but shriek in pleasure. Your legs began quivering under your weight.

You let out a series of screams as you released everything you had left to give onto Rhea’s cock. Rhea pulled out of you slowly and admired the black silicone that had been coated with your cum.

The woman removed your handcuffs just as your legs went limp, sending you crashing to the floor. Rhea unashamedly chuckled as you groaned in pain.

You curled up on the floor trying to recover from the cruelty you had just faced as Rhea walked over to the bed and began collecting her items. Aftercare was something that did not exist in Rhea’s mind, you were her toy whether you liked it or not.

You laid down for a few moments before you stood up slowly and stumbled to your bag. “Why?” You asked as you looked at her from across the room while pulling out your change of clothes.

“Why what?” Rhea’s brows furrowed in confusion as she put her suit back on. “Why do you do this Rhea? Abuse me for one night just to leave and forget I exist for months! Why can’t I know you?!” You complained as you slid into a pair of sweatpants.

Rhea sighed in frustration, throwing her bag onto her shoulder. “Don’t ask me stupid questions like that.” She rolled her eyes as you put your hoodie on. “See you later.” She grumped before storming out the door.

You weren’t gonna tolerate this anymore. You were going to find out what she was hiding from you. Why was she keeping you in this torturous loop? What was she protecting you from?

You waited a few seconds before leaving the hotel room that had turned into a biohazard, making sure to close the door silently. Rhea took the elevator as you took the stairs.

You noticed the woman's frame exit the lobby as you reached the bottom floor. You kept your distance as you followed Rhea through the streets of Manhattan, your hand placed against the laceration Rhea had just given you.

After what felt like hours of stalking the woman she turned down a flight of stairs just outside a bodega.

You stood at the top of the stairs, your eyes glued to the black door at the bottom. “You okay? You’ve been staring at our door for like three minutes.” A man with an Irish accent interrupted you from behind. You looked up at him for a moment then returned your gaze to the door.

“What’s in there?”

#rhea ripley angst #rhea ripley fanfic #rhea ripley smut #rhea ripley x reader #rhea ripley x you #wwe smut

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metanouias · 2 months ago

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⋆ ۫ ᘡ ˖ INTRODUCING . . . skater.ᐟᅟmatt &. artist.ᐟᅟreader.

SKATER!MATT X ARTIST!READER who first met at one of manhattan’s more discreet skateparks, the sight of her dyed curls faded into an ashy pink mixed with the clunking sound of spray paint cans peeks his interest as he passed by for the umpteenth time. though, matt’s enthrallment & clumsiness couldn’t have picked better timing— the skater losing all potential balance on his custom board, slipping backwards before falling ass-first in front of her, a soft groan leaving his slightly chapped lips. it’s only when he picks up on her stifled chuckles that he looks up at her, cerulean eyes narrowing as a gentle smile makes way on his face. “oh, s’funny.. huh? aight, bet… jus’ wait ‘till my ass stops hurtin’… fuck..” matt teases, giggles of his own syncing with hers as he throws an arm over his face.

ARTIST!READER who spends most of her shift sketching into her favorite notebook. business at the library is always ridiculously slow, the already quiet atmosphere amplified by ten thousand as it retains emptiness. she places her wired earbuds in her ears, big thief playing at an inbetween volume as she pulls out her extensive collection of pens & pencils, imagination running wild. as of recently, drawings of niche & personal tattoo ideas for matt had taken over the pages. once she’s finished, she snaps a flick of the doodles, sending it to the brunette. guaranteed, he replies with an easy thumbs up emoji, one of the designs etched somewhere on his pale skin the next time they see each other.

SKATER!MATT who absolutely adores getting high w/ artist!reader, his already relaxed demeanor reduced to a mere puddle whenever they’re smoking a j together. from matt yapping about some newfound skateboard trick that he’d been trying ( & failing ) to figure out these past couple of days, large hand in hers as she paints a solid black over his nails, perfectly matching her current acrylics, to her being perched atop his lap as they makeout messily, marijuana throwing all senses of coordination out the window. it’s full of tongue & spit, his hands lazily running up and down her thighs, squeezing the flesh every other second as her own rest in his curls, tugging softly.

SKATER!MATT X ARTIST!READER who have never really been understanding when it comes the apparent norm of going out on fancy dates. not only because they’re severely lacking in the funds department but also, just imagine the couple in sophisticated dinner attire, eating fish with the head still on & oysters… absolutely not. rooftopping downtown to see the skyline or finding abandoned buildings to tag was their idea of a perfect date. & trust me, they wouldn’t want it any other way.

◡ ̃ 𓈒 ֹ ׅ evangeline rambles 𖹭ᩧ ! writer’s block officially being out the way means we’re so back eeekkk! & what better way to celebrate than to introduce my beloved, angelbabies skater!matt & artist!reader. they already mean so much to me, you have no clue! i lowkey might be rusty with writing so, please spare meeee :3 . .

#⠀ 💭⠀⠀𓂃 . ℳetanounias ⠀©#matt sturniolo #skater!matt #artist!reader #sturniolo triplets #sturniolo triplets x reader #matt sturniolo x reader

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thekissofaphrodite · 1 year ago

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OMGG!! THIS IS AMAZING!! LUKE AS A GIRL DAD IS MAKING ME FEEL SO HAPPY

Family, Luke

Luke Castellan X Daughter of Aphrodite!Reader

Summary: Giving Luke Castellan a second chance to be a partner and the father he never was.

Warnings: Kissing, Near death experience, mentions of dead bodies and flashbacks of smut and teen pregnancy.

Author's note: This is requested! I do not support teen pregnancy, Please practice safe sex! LUKE IS 23 IN THIS TIMELINE!! and reader is 20! Luke and the reader became flings at age 19 and 18!

The battle scene was horrifying.

dead bodies of demigods who fought bravely had been scattered all around manhattan. Their divine blood staining the road, the hot scorching sun kissing their bodies.

Your breath hitched as you tried not to step on dead bodies, the putrid odour and lifeless eyes staring back at you were enough to make you gag as flies and insects crawled on the cold bodies While mumbling something incoherently, you clutched the gigantic green tumbler you brought filled with ambrosia, Your kaleidoscope eyes searching for someone.

Then, You saw him.

Luke.

His face was still handsome, even from the distance

You saw the blood pooling in his mouth while it dripped down his chin. The knife embedded under his left arm.

Without even thinking, you ran towards Luke, kneeling beside him. He was choking on his own blood,When he saw you, He smiled, His eyes gleaming with tears as he looked up at you. You came, That's what his smiled meant. the hermes boy tried to say something—But failed. His calloused palms reached your cheeks as you scrambled, opening the tumbler Cap.

"I'm here, Luke. Stay with me and hold on"

The time was ticking, and every second that had passed could be Luke's end. But the bottle wasn't cooperating. It seems like the Fates were telling you something. You used your strength to open it, glancing at Luke every second, scared and anxious.

Then, With a strong force, the tumbler opened. You smiled while you sighed in relief. Some of the ambrosia were spilt. But you couldn't care less.

You poured down the ambrosia down unto Luke's throat, not caring if his own blood mixed with the nectar. All you cared about was for him to live.

Your daughter can't grow up without a father.

The ambrosia was drunken by Luke, Despite him choking a little. You prayed to every gods you could think of to save him, He loves you and you love him, That was everything.

As the tumbler's ambrosia began to slowly empty, its contents drained down Luke's throat. The Hermes boy began to regain strength. He didn't know if the Gods still had mercy upon him..Or the Fates just played tricks, because seeing your presence after years was clearly a surprise.

Yet here you are. Caressing his soft brown curls, Waiting for him, Ever so beautiful with your soft frown filled with worry.

"C'mon, Luke..Say something" you ushered, tears threatening to spill from your kaleidoscope eyes.

He groaned, And for the first time, He said something.

"Hey Beauty," that old nickname that he called you when you two were still flings at camp halfblood rolled smoothly off his tongue, It got you tearing up, He smiled weakly as you hugged him, Luke hissed, You noticed that you squished his fresh wound. You chuckled, still sniffling whilst you helped Luke up.

Luke stumbled lightly, grasping your arms for support.

"So...Kronos, Hm?" You joked, Trying to enlighten his mood, Surprisingly, He chuckled. wiping the blood of his chin.

"I haven't seen you in years"

"Things happen, Luke." You looked away, The thought of keeping your daughter away from his still bothers you. It was maddening. So maddening, You wanted to kiss him and tell him that your daughter was waiting for him at home, desperately wanting your daughter to run up to him and whisper 'Dad'

"Hey.." He cupped your cheeks, His eyes meeting yours as you leaned against his touch, "Tell me everything, Why did you leave?" He asked.

"Remember that head counselor party that you hosted years ago? My sister snuck me with her..."

Flashback

The loud booming sound of rock music coming from the hermes cabin was enough make you cringe, let alone the very short party dress that your sister, Tania lend you, It revealed a not so friendly amount of skin on your thighs.

"Tania, can we please go back? I don't wanna go anymore, " you whispered to your older sister while pulling the dress down, She rolled her eyes and slapped your hands away.

"Out of all the hundred siblings we have, you chose me to accompany you to a party hosted by Luke Castellan himself?!" You screamed, earning a few glances from the campers, but you ignored them aside and picked up your pace, trying to keep up with your sister, Tania.

"This party happens once in a lifetime! Mr. D and Chiron are away! that makes it even better" Squeled Tania as you two reached the entrance of Cabin 11.

Suddenly, The door swung open, revealing luke castellan in a button up shirt, cargo pants and a red cup with liquor. The moment he saw you, you could've sworn you saw his eyes brighten.

"Tania! I see you brought Y/n, This is a counselor only party" Luke smirked, But Tania pulled you closer to her, Winking at Luke.

"She's gorgeous, Castellan. Make her an exception. Would you like that I brought Victoria instead—"

"—Gods no—"

"—Then let sweet y/n inside! Don't you think that I don't know about your ungodly teenage thoughts about her—" Luke pushed Tania inside as she cackled and ran towards her friends leaving you alone with Luke.

The cabin was decorated with colorful party strings and fallen confetti on the floor, Along with a wonky banner hung on the middle of the room saying; Head Counselors party! Come and join us (Companions allowed if they have atleast stolen wine from Mr. D's stash)

You chuckled. Thinking that Chris probably made that banner.

In the corner, You saw a small bar with spilled liquor and and messily scattered cups.

You poured yourself a drink, Mindlessly rocking to the booming music behind you, Then, You saw a tall silhouette towering behind you. The familiar curls on the shadows says so that it was none other than luke.

"Hey beauty, are you enjoying?" He asked, Keeping an eye on you while he sipped his drink, You nodded and did the same, Watching your sister tania flirt with a Hephaestus boy.

"Why did you let me in? you specifically said 'No companions allowed' " That question caught him off guard as he chuckled softly.

"Can I not make an exception? Tania said that afterall"

"What about those 'Ungodly thoughts' about me?"

"You mean what I imagine underneath that pretty dress of yours?" He whispered, Loud enough for you to hear.

His hands reached the strap of your red dress, He slipped it and made it fall, Revealing an excessive amount of your shoulders and neck. His long fingers caressing your neck all the way down to your breasts made you shiver. You looked around, Trying to see if anyone was watching before luke pulled you into a searing kiss, Grabbing your hips and wrapping your legs around his waist as he brought you into the bathroom.

It all happened so fast with a simple click of the door's lock.

The dress bunched up your hips, Luke's cargo pants pulled down mid thighs, His lips sucking your neck while he thrusted swiftly inside you, The skin slapping and your moans were muffled by the loud sound of music.

"Luke—"

"I know, Baby, I know just— Hold on—Fuck!" His hips shook, So did your legs as your head fell back in pleasure while his hot seed filled you up, spilling a little.

The sound of heavy panting was broke by you, Wiping the mess he made on your inner thighs.

"So, this is the ungodly thoughts?"

"mhm" He hummed quietly while tucking his shirt in, He looked at you for a moment before kissing your forehead and whispered; "I love you"

Before you could even reply, The bathroom door was shut.

——

It had been weeks since you and Luke snuck out together, It was all a blur.

He was busy tending new campers, Befriending lonely newbies and keeping his cabin on track while you were in the bathroom...Puking...

"This is what I'm telling you! Drinking booze and shit at Castellan's party is the last thing you wanna do!" Your sister Tania had scolded you, she got your hair up in a ponytail while she patted your back aggressively.

"You know what? Fuck it, I'm too busy for this shit" She groaned and left, Leaving you alone.

When the sight was clear, you pulled out a boxed pregnancy test you bought (sneaking out of the border just to buy overpriced pregnancy tests from a cheap pharmacy wasn't cool)

Shutting the bathroom stall shut, You pulled down your underwear and waited for the results.

Those five minutes were the longest of your life.

And when two lines appeared, You exhaled a breath you never knew you held.

You stared at the wall, Rethinking your life choices at the meantime, Luke was your first and Last.

He's the father.

Gathering up courage, you got up and took and took a deep breath before walking out the bathroom, towards the apollo cabin where your siblings awaits.

"Is tania here?" You asked one of your siblings, But they shook their heads, Noticing that you're pale and clammy.

"Y/n? are you sure you're alright?" Asked Gracie, but you smiled weakly and nodded.

"I'll be fine, Just a little stomach ache"

Oh it was more than that...

Your day went on with you laying on your bed, sobbing quietly inside the apollo cabin waiting for your older sister, Tania.

When she entered the cabin, You immediately wiped your tears and composed yourself, walking towards her wobbly.

"I don't have time for whatever shit you've done Y/n, I'm busy—"

"I passed a test" You said.

Her eyes then widened.

"Oh Gods..You mean— THE test for your final semester in high school? I told you you'd pass! We should celebrate! Wait— We should get some balloons and—"

"—Tania—"

"—should we invite Sophie Davies from Cabin 4? She's bitchy but fun to hang out with—"

"—It's a pregnancy test"

There was a deafening silence.

"What."

"It's a pregnancy test—"

"Shut up. I heard you the first time! Who's is it?" She whispered.

"Luke Castellan"

Your sister, Tania stepped away and shook her head.

"You're on your own now, I will not be taking care of those pathetic excuses I call a sibling, Let alone a goddamn baby" Tears spilled from your eyes as Tania slammed the door shut.

The Apollo Cabin was gloomy and dark despite it's residents and campers being offsprings of the sun, You looked around and saw her bags, It wasn't long before you're sneaking out the camp boarder, Thinking about Luke.

"I— We did... God knows what inside the bathroom, and I got—" You inhaled sharply, Your fist curled up into a ball whilst your nails dug into your skin.

"I got pregnant...I didn't know how or what to tell you..and I was a kid..and I was scared so I ran away, I ran to my father's old apartment and got a job as a waitress at this dingy old restaurant owned by married immigrants and I only make seven dollars an hour and at that time May was born and the hospital bills are insane so I gotta borrow some cash from my dad and pay it off— Gods it makes me wanna cry seeing May without a father— I can't live it up to myself— When she started kindergarten she was crying when I picked her up, And I was refraining myself to burst into tears infront of her since I need to be strong for her"

That immediate break down had Luke frozen.

All these years that you disappeared, You were struggling all alone, with your daughter you just had. He wanted to kiss you and say 'It's alright, I'm here' But isn't it too late for that now?

"You hid her away from me, Why?" His voice barely a whisper.

"I was afraid what you'll do to her the same thing happened to those halfbloods, she deserves more than that. I want to teach her who she is before your family tells her what they want her to be"

"I'm sorry I wasn't there" That's the only thing that Luk could ever say, Guilt washing all over him like pouring rain.

"You're here now. You're the hero of the great Prophecy"

"I want to be the father I never was to May" Tears rolled down his eyes as you hugged him tightly, Your head placed against his chest where you can feel his heartbeat.

"May's with my aunt.." Luke smiled and kissed your forehead.

"I wouldn't mind visiting"

There was a car honking in the distance, When the passenger door opened, It revealed your aunt carrying May.

"Look— HEY! Y/N!" Yelled your aunt as she ran towards you, May squealing as she was bounced around.

"Mommy!" Squeled the little girl as she thrashed around your aunt's arms, Begging for you to carry her.

"Is this the baby daddy?" Your aunt asked, Her brows raised and her hands on her hips looking Luke up and down.

you nudged her on her ribs and gave her a look, She rolled her eyes and got back to her car.

The little girl in your arms looked at her father, titling her head in confusion before grabbing his curls, She giggled and looked at her same curly hair tied in pigtails.

"We're the same, Hm?" Luke smiled at his daughter, The little girl gave the same smile before shyly wrapping her tiny arms around Luke's neck.

The sight of them wanted to make your heart melt.

Everything that Luke has ever done was unforgivable. But all that matters now was your family.

A/N

Hey lovies!! I finally finished a request! sorry for not posting for a long time, Believe me when I say that I snuck my phone away in class so many times just to update, but here I am! I used one of Sally's lines from the series here I hope you guys don't mind 😉

Requested by @rainestorm2556 <33

#percy jackon and the olympians #xy/n #thekissofaphrodite #luke castellan #luke castellan x reader

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