#Alone at St. Lukes

[punkrockmixtapes]

Aaron West and The Roaring Twenties - Alone At St. Luke's

[primusliber-traduzioni]

Aaron West & The Roaring Twenties - In Lieu of Flowers, traduzione testi

Agli uccellini non gliel’ha detto nessuno che il mondo sta finendo Per cui loro continuano a cantare come se fosse primavera

(da: Paying Bills at the End of the World)

1. Aaron West and The Roaring Twenties – Smoking Rooms, traduzione

Camere fumatori Si sta una merda a essere di nuovo da soli

Lo spettacolo maestoso di questi camerini scalcinati

Tutta la sporcizia e la muffa

Murales brutti sul cemento freddo

Negli stanzini di tutti questi locali rock in difficoltà, dai quali chiamo casa E starò via qualche settimana, ragazzo mio

Spero tu capisca

Ho fatto delle promesse, intendo mantenerle

Ma vanno sempre via tutti quanti, lo so

Le cose ti sono andate male, le cose ti sono andate male Si sta una merda a essere di nuovo da soli

Nell’oscurità soffusa delle camere di questi motel da due soldi in cui scavo dei buchi

Sempre alloggiati nell’ala fumatori

Io e Joe e Cliff non ci potevamo credere che esistono ancora

Tutta la cenere sui materassi Non è la stessa cosa senza di voi, non ci trovo nessuna gioia

Per cui dopo il Jersey la prossima settimana magari mollo il colpo

E trascinandomi sul palco capisco che le cose si sono messe male, si sono messe… La luce viola che mi macchia la pelle

Lo scoppio di applausi, un’eruzione improvvisa

Catherine fa un cenno con la testa verso di me

Giro lo sguardo, e dal nulla compare la band

Ero vuoto e freddo e spezzato in due

È come vedere un fantasma, non me lo dimenticherò mai

Lo ripeto continuamente, continuamente, continuamente

Mi siete mancati di brutto, stronzi

Continuamente, continuamente, continuamente

Mi siete mancati di brutto, stronzi

Continuamente, continuamente, continuamente

Mi siete mancati di brutto, stronzi 2. Aaron West and The Roaring Twenties – Roman Candles, traduzione

Candele romane È quasi il crepuscolo

Tiro fuori la macchina dal garage

E accendo il radiatore a olio per allontanare i primi di marzo

Ho spaccato il finestrino con una palla da baseball

Per cui penetra l’inverno tra le schegge

La band si presenta quando tutti hanno finito il proprio turno

E proviamo tutte le modifiche che mi sono scritto col pennarello sul polso

E parliamo del futuro come se lo pregassimo di sfondarci a calci i cazzo di denti Svegliatemi quando è finita

Qualcuno ci ha rubato la marmitta catalitica dal giardino

Va oltre le nostre possibilità

Bruciamo come candele romane

Svegliatemi quando è finita Mi immagino noi sull’I-80 direzione ovest dalle parti di Cheyenne

Su un furgoncino da 15 posti arrugginito che cerchiamo di indovinare a che distanza è il temporale

Contiamo i secondi tra il tuono e il lampo come facevamo da piccoli Ma la mamma lavora in ospedale

Dice che ogni turno sembra una maledizione

Non ha mai visto la gente stare così male

E dice che le cose peggiorano e basta Svegliatemi quando è finita

Qualcuno ci ha rubato la marmitta catalitica dal giardino

Va oltre le nostre possibilità

Bruciamo come candele romane

Svegliatemi quando è finita Non è questo il bello della speranza?

Non è questo il bello della speranza?

Ogni anno in primavera i Mets vincono il pennant e ti cresce l’erba

Non è questa la bella inculata della speranza, della speranza, della speranza, della speranza? Svegliatemi quando è finita

Qualcuno ci ha rubato la marmitta catalitica dal giardino

Va oltre le nostre possibilità

Bruciamo come candele romane

Svegliatemi quando è finita 3. Aaron West and The Roaring Twenties – Paying Bills at the End of the World, traduzione

Pagare le bollette alla fine del mondo Agli uccellini non gliel’ha detto nessuno che il mondo sta finendo

Per cui loro continuano a cantare come se fosse primavera

Faccio due passi con Colin dopo cena

Ci smezziamo una Coca e guardiamo il tramonto che fa la sua meraviglia

E la chiesa dietro l’angolo fa il servizio religioso sul prato

E fanno dei disegni sull’asfalto del marciapiede coi loro gessetti color pastello

Delle colombe e delle palme e un Gesù dei fumetti che muore sulla croce

Io dico “sarà in ritardo” e ci ridiamo un po’ sù Sto facendo di nuovo quel sogno in cui muoio

Quello in cui mi ammalo e non ce lo possiamo permettere

Son qua che vado in giro senza assicurazione sanitaria

E riusciamo a malapena a tenere le luci accese così com’è ora Metto in moto il pickup, gli ho messo nome Chelsea

Mi alzo ed esco prima del sole

Un pacchetto di paglie, caffè del distributore che sa di merda e non mi sveglia neanche

E un tizio che conosco dalla high school mi ha trovato un lavoro qui con suo papà

Per cui adesso installo basculanti dei garage sulla riva sud finché dura

E ho la pelle che sembra un campo minato: le zanzare mi hanno conciato per le feste

Ma sono felice del lavoro, ed è lì che ho visto Sam “Pensavo avessi levato le tende alla high school

Incredibile che sei tornata”

E tu mi fai “prendiamoci qualcosa da bere prima o poi che ti racconto tutto quanto”

E io “mi pagano il venerdì, ci becchiamo da Jack” Sto facendo di nuovo quel sogno in cui muoio

Quello in cui mi ammalo e non ce lo possiamo permettere

Son qua che vado in giro senza assicurazione sanitaria

E riusciamo a malapena a tenere le luci accese così com’è ora Sto facendo di nuovo quel sogno in cui muoio

Quello in cui mi ammalo e non ce lo possiamo permettere 4. Aaron West & The Roaring Twenties – Monongahela Park, traduzione

Monongahela Park È passato troppo tempo, cazzo

Non ti vedevo da quando eravamo ragazzini

E sono salito su un treno merci per venire a trovarti a Pitt

E tu ridi fortissimo

Mi appoggi una mano sul ginocchio

Io sorseggio un’acqua tonica perché sto cercando di non bere E mi torna alla mente il ricordo di noi due – Monongahela Park

E la bottiglia di scotch del discount che ci siamo smezzati mentre il cielo diventava buio E ti do uno strappo a casa, si sta facendo tardi

Tu sorridi e mi chiedi se non potremmo restare qua

Ti porto a casa, sei di strada

Guardiamo la notte che comincia il suo lento declino

Ti do uno strappo a casa, si sta facendo tardi Dalla tua sigaretta viene giù la cenere accesa

E tu dici che vuoi sentire la band

E mi chiedi se è dura per me cantare ancora canzoni su Dianne

E io alzo un po’ le spalle

Voglio dire, non è che dipende da me

Ti passo un accendino e dico “Dolly canta ancora canzoni su Jolene” E mi torna alla mente il ricordo di noi due – Monongahela Park

Dove fumiamo una sigaretta dopo l’altra al crepuscolo

I nostri cuori adolescenti danneggiati Ti do uno strappo a casa, si sta facendo tardi

Tu dici che è da un anno che non ti senti a posto

Ti porto a casa, sei di strada

Tu mi vieni vicino e io giro la faccia dall’altra parte

Ti do uno strappo a casa, si sta facendo tardi Il mio cuore è una bomba piena di chiodi

L’ho fatto apposta per non far più avvicinare nessuno

Cerco di restare calmo

Ma tu sbatti la portiera e io sono già qui che tremo

E mi accascio per strada

Ho visto lo sguardo che avevi, so che cosa significa Ti do uno strappo a casa, si sta facendo tardi

Tu mi sei venuta vicino e io ho girato la faccia dall’altra parte 5. Aaron West & The Roaring Twenties – Alone at St. Luke’s, traduzione

Da solo al St. Luke’s La scritta sul muro dice “fuck the Tories”

Fuori da un takeaway, mangiamo per strada

E il neon della vetrina illumina le ombre sulle macchine sulle note di una canzone pop che hanno messo in loop Gli uccelli marini cantano allo stesso modo qui

Cosa mi aspettavo?

Quella canzone continua a suonarmi in testa Sputiamo insulti, scavalchiamo recinzioni

Ci consumiamo come veri romantici

Attacchiamo risse, che cazzo di incoscienti

Stiamo pensando: finché siamo ancora qua, tanto vale che si beva Il motel dove alloggiamo è quasi tutto vuoto

Frego le caramelle e del vino dalla BP

Ed entro dalla finestra quando il receptionist è distratto

Stiamo uno sopra l’altro, si va al risparmio Ma c’è merda di topo sul tappeto

Cosa mi aspettavo?

Rido e rovescio il vino e macchio il letto Sputiamo insulti, scavalchiamo recinzioni

Ci consumiamo come veri romantici

Attacchiamo risse, che cazzo di incoscienti

Stiamo pensando: finché siamo ancora qua, tanto vale che si beva E si sono ammalati tutti quanti

Crudele e improvviso: io sono l’unico risparmiato

Mando un bacio d’addio e vado avanti mentre nell’aria aleggia il lutto

Ha fatto un male cane lasciarli qua

Ha fatto un male cane lasciarli qua La scritta sul muro dice che abbiamo toccato il fondo

E c’è un silenzio che penso di sentirmi i battiti

E il concerto è in una chiesa abbandonata a Glasgow

E l’ironia della sorte è abbastanza azzeccata Fa freddo, sono bagnato e mi sento solo

Cosa mi aspettavo?

La luce della vetrata mi ha tirato un pugno nel petto Sputo insulti, scavalco recinzioni

Mi consumo come veri romantici

Attacco risse, che cazzo di incosciente

Sto pensando: finché sono ancora qua, tanto vale continuare a bere 6. Aaron West & The Roaring Twenties – Whiplash, traduzione

Colpo di frusta Come una pistola dentro una Bibbia, è un segreto che mi tengo per me

Eravamo profeti sui fianchi delle colline la scorsa settimana a Londra

Adesso son qui in macchina che vado in negozio

Scompare come un sogno

E mi sono rotto la mano buona versando il calcestruzzo qua fuori Non faccio che perdere

Sembra come un colpo di frusta sull’asfalto

Quando torno è come un colpo di frusta Come un cane in una vasca da bagno, mi nascondo dal temporale

L’etichetta è sparita

Le mie chiamate vengono tutte ignorate

Mi dirigo al baretto

E quando entro Sam se ne va

Gli apostoli fedeli mi si fanno vicini quando parlo Vorrei che fossi tu

Sembra come un colpo di frusta sull’asfalto

Quando torno è come un colpo di frusta 7. Aaron West & The Roaring Twenties – Spitting in the Wind, traduzione

Sputare controvento Non è mai piovuto a LA per l’intero anno che ci ho vissuto

Ma oggi è tutto il giorno che continua a piovere

E Rosa era in ritardo, è entrata di soppiatto dalla porta laterale

E mi ha abbracciato così forte che ho pensato mi si spaccassero le costole Sì, ho bevuto un po’ per rilassare i nervi

Rosa se n’è accorta, son qua che biascico le parole

Sembra di nuovo preoccupata per me Sputo controvento, sputo controvento Mi guardo la mano quando mi viene un crampo durante Grapefruit

Mi diventa rigida quando fuori fa freddo, mi ha tradito di nuovo

E mi hanno tolto le viti al Samaritan il mese scorso

Una vita intera di sfortuna

Da allora non è più come prima E vedo i capi illuminati dalle luci alogene

Che rovesciano i cocktail e parlano sopra al concerto

E sento la tempesta sotto la pelle Sputo controvento, sputo controvento

Sputo controvento, sputo controvento Creare i ponti un cazzo, io li taglio

Ci vediamo in acqua

Do dei truffatori a quelli dell’etichetta e insulto Eric

È un disastro, cazzo

E l’intera band è incazzata

Mi lasciano annegare

Li ho condotti al macello Creare i ponti un cazzo, io li taglio

Ci vediamo in acqua

Rosa se la sarà filata, non si vede da nessuna parte

Il locale è sempre più buio

La mia voce suona una merda

Me la sto sputtanando

Ci vediamo in acqua

Ci vediamo in acqua

Ci vediamo in acqua

Ci vediamo in acqua

Ci vediamo in acqua 8. Aaron West & The Roaring Twenties – I’m an Albatross, traduzione

Sono un peso Quando esco piove ancora

Entro nel bar di fianco e spero che qualcuno mi riconosca

E si offra di comprarmi qualcosa di forte da bere

Sono un peso, già, non si offre nessuno

Barcollo fino all’area del fast food Ubriaco e debole

Ordino da mangiare e mi addormento

E il cuoco mi sveglia e mi dice di andarmene via Catherine telefona tre giorni dopo

E dice “sono ancora incazzata nera con te

Ma ho bisogno di sapere che stai bene

E tu papà lo dipingi come un santo

E lo sai che anch’io gli volevo bene

Ma si è ucciso a forza di bere proprio allo stesso modo Non intendo che succeda due volte

No, adesso basta

È ora di darti una bella sistemata” È passato un decennio da quando ho pensato di annegarmi in mare

Quando tutte le persone nella mia vita erano morte o mi avevano lasciato

Dovrei sentirmi fortunato ora che qualcuno pensa che merito di essere salvato

Ho comprato un volo per tornare a casa dal John Wayne

Potresti venirmi a prendere, per favore? Southern State Parkway

E non parla nessuno per l’intero tragitto verso casa

Colin non gira nemmeno la testa dalla mia parte

Tutti i miei pensieri vanno ancora al Jim Beam nascosto nel giubbotto

Le bottiglie che ho rubato sull’aereo Sangue e saliva

Svicolo, mento in proposito

Ammetto che devo smettere 9. Aaron West & The Roaring Twenties – Runnin’ Out of Excuses, traduzione

Finire le scuse Sotto una tempesta di neve ho guardato i Bills che perdevano ai playoff dalla sala comune la prima sera che mi sono ricoverato qua dentro

L’ennesima ripetizione di un’infanzia perduta

Pensavo fosse il nostro anno, mi sa che lo penso ogni volta

Sono un estraneo nel mio corpo

Ma ti ho deluso a LA

Se c’è un modo per mandare tutto a puttane io lo trovo

Sono abbattuto, non posso andare avanti così Mi sono ricoverato una domenica

Mi hanno tolto le sneaker e il telefono

E il mio compagno di stanza mi ha beccato che guardavo fuori dalla nostra finestra al secondo piano

Mi fa “non serve a niente saltare giù, ragazzo mio

A meno che non cerchi di spaccarti qualche osso” Mi fa che si chiama Bobby

È al suo terzo giro in ‘sto posto

Pensavo che le file di pillole ci fossero solo nei film

Pensavo che i nervi non avrebbero retto

Lui mi fa “tieni duro e aspetta la pausa sigaretta

Vedrai che ti aiuta coi tremori

Sembra un inferno all’inizio

Ma ora di mercoledì va tutto bene” Sto scrivendo una canzone d’amore

La canto alle pareti

Sto recuperando la voce

E riparo i nuovi difetti con resina e sale marino

Riempio le vecchie crepe ‘Sto posto puzza di ospedale

Ho degli incontri due volte al giorno

Ho scritto delle lettere a mio padre

Ho cercato di liberarmi dal dolore

Faccio quasi tutto quello che mi dicono

Resto in silenzio quando pregano Per cui quando passo davanti alla finestra dico all’ombra sulla parete

“Che cazzo di miracolo cosmico che è esistere”

Però io non ho mai chiesto di venire al mondo

Per cui me ne vado quando voglio

E ho ancora un po’ di roba da fare

Per cui rimango finché non la finisco Sto scrivendo una canzone d’amore

La canto alle pareti

Sto recuperando la voce

E riparo i nuovi difetti con resina e sale marino

Riempio le vecchie crepe Ti ho deluso a LA

Se c’è un modo per mandare tutto a puttane io lo trovo

Sto riemergendo, adesso vedo di raddrizzare le cose 10. Aaron West & The Roaring Twenties – In Lieu of Flowers, traduzione

Al posto dei fiori La pioggia sul tetto della tua macchina parcheggiata

Sam, avevo una paura fottuta

Mi sono morso la ferita sulla lingua e ho confessato tutto sul vialetto di casa tua

Ed è così tanto tempo che mi sento svuotato che immaginavo che sarei rimasto sempre così

Nessuno mi vede senza vestiti da quasi dieci anni Mi hai detto “Tieni duro, la ferita si rimarginerà

E quando sarà passata scriverò sul cemento fresco

‘Al posto dei fiori scrollati di dosso la terra

Io sono con te fino alla fine amara’” Ho chiamato un locale in paese, ho fatto un accordo per tre concerti

Ma se mi diceste di andare a farmi fottere lo capirei

Eric ha detto che avrebbe preso un aereo se riuscivo a darmi una ripulita

Non posso perdervi di nuovo, ragazzi

Giuro che sistemo tutto quanto Mi hai detto “Tieni duro, la ferita si rimarginerà

E quando sarà passata scriverò sul cemento fresco

‘Al posto dei fiori scrollati di dosso la terra

Io sono con te fino alla fine amara’”

 “Tieni duro, la ferita si rimarginerà

E quando sarà passata scriverò sul cemento fresco

‘Al posto dei fiori scrollati di dosso la terra

Io sono con te fino alla fine amara’” Il ventilatore canta alla tua finestra

Tu continui a distogliere lo sguardo

Ti ho comprato un bloc notes e una felpa

So di essermi perso il tuo compleanno

E stavolta “scusa” non funziona

Quello che posso darti è un po’ di spazio

Ma il prossimo anno è un anno bisestile

Per cui c’è tempo quando sarai pronto, se sarai pronto Mi hai detto “Tieni duro, la ferita si rimarginerà

E quando sarà passata scriverò sul cemento fresco

‘Al posto dei fiori scrollati di dosso la terra

Io sono con te fino alla fine amara’”

“Tieni duro, la ferita si rimarginerà

E quando sarà passata scriverò sul cemento fresco

‘Al posto dei fiori scrollati di dosso la terra

Io sono con te fino alla fine amara’”

“Tieni duro, la ferita si rimarginerà

E quando sarà passata scriverò sul cemento fresco

‘Al posto dei fiori scrollati di dosso la terra

Io sono con te fino alla fine amara’” 11. Aaron West & The Roaring Twenties – Dead Leaves, traduzione

Foglie secche C’è un telefono scollegato sul bancone accanto al lavello

E un messaggio che hai scarabocchiato su un blocchetto con l’inchiostro blu

L’anno scorso ho provato a chiamare quel numero ma non suonava

E allora lo tocco per portarmi fortuna quando esco E prendo un treno per andare in città

Mi sembra di rivivere la mia vita al contrario

E a un certo punto tra il rumore di fondo la sento borbottare un incantesimo satanico

La mia chitarra e dei vestiti per il weekend

E faccio ciao con la mano quando passiamo per Brooklyn La terra comincia ad aprirsi in una voragine

Ci inghiotte tutti interi quando arriviamo al fiume

E io chiudo gli occhi

Mi si cominciano a tappare le orecchie andando sott’acqua

Afferro il sedile del treno, respirando profondamente

Gliela farò credere a tutti E prendo la B lungo la Quarta Strada, sono entrato nell’autunno dalle scale dell’MTA

E sono passato di fianco alla fontana qui in Father Demo Square

E le foglie secche grattano il cemento dietro di me

Uno penserebbe che ormai abbia imparato a smettere di girarmi Ma stavolta sei tu

Cammini da sola e spingi un passeggino

La luce di novembre aleggia bassa in cielo e si riflette sull’acqua

Il bagliore dorato mi nasconde

Potrei essere chiunque

E resto paralizzato per strada Perché stavolta sei tu, ah, stavolta sei tu

Ma stavolta sei tu, ah, stavolta sei tu In fondo all’isolato, quando torno in me, vedo il nostro nome sull’insegna

E sorrido, perché ti amo, e so che hai trovato quello di cui hai bisogno

E il futuro è una domanda retorica

Per cui apro la porta ed entro

[open-their-minds]

Spitting curses

Jumping fences

Burning out like true romantics

[shomatoriashi]

09/29/24; 02:45pm

{ drabbles / headcanons }

[ when you’re on your period ]

featuring: sylus, zayne, xavier, rafayel + bonus

when sylus found you curled up in bed, unable to move or utter a sentence that didn't begin with a whimper-

he knew that it was that time of the month once more, causing you to trap yourself in a cocoon made from your blankets while surrounded by your favorite plushies. after finishing his routine for the day, sylus adjusts his tie, rufescent eyes filled with sympathy for you. with a gentle hum of your name, he settles himself beside your cocoon, feeling his added weight make the mattress dip in response.

you weakly peek at him from beneath the confines of your comforter, making sylus chuckle in response as he gently brushed back your hair. "hey sweetheart, how are you feeling?"

"i could be better..." cue another whimper escaping from you, the sudden jolt of pain felt rippling across your abdomen as you curled up even further into your cocoon. with a sigh of your name, sylus leans forward to press a lingering kiss against your hair.

"i know how painful this is for you, so you just remain in bed for as long as you need to. alert luke or kieran if you need anything, and i'll make sure mephisto keeps an eye on you as well."

"don't you think that's overkill, sy?" your grumbling words manages to earn a chuckle from sylus, with him leaning down to press another lingering kiss against your hair.

"please, nothing is too over the top for me, especially when it comes to you, darling."

while sylus wished for nothing more than to remain by your side as you went through so much pain, he had a busy day ahead of him and responsibilities he could not quite drop at the last minute. with his itinerary in mind, he says his goodbyes to you once more before leaving your shared bedroom.

while leaving the mansion, he gives luke and kieran strict orders to leave you alone and remain on their best behavior, reminding them that they were only allowed to enter his bedroom if and when you needed anything. the twins both give him a mock salute, promising him that they would take care of you and protect you when needed.

the hours go by, and despite the several meetings and conferences he attended with potential clients, his mind would always inevitably go back to you. when moving from place to place, sylus would stop by a gift shop or store, picking up some items he knew you would need.

by the late evening, sylus returns home with numerous bags in his hand. kieran was the first to greet him, letting out a low whistle. "wow, can i just say whipped much?"

"shut it." sylus grunts at him, demanding that he alert the cooks so that they can prepare dinner for you. giving him another mock salute, kieran's laughter was heard echoing throughout the hallways, making a vein pop against his forehead.

taking great strides towards the room, he opens the door, feeling his prior annoyance disappear and the way his heart melts with empathy for you. you were still settled in bed, with the blankets wrapped around you. "i'm home, sweetheart."

"sylus...!" happiness was seen in your gaze when you get out of your cocoon, making his heart race at the mere sight of you. he joins you in bed, pulling you into his lap while giving you the various bags. you giggle, setting aside the feminine pads, eyes taking in the various snacks he had bought for you. upon feeling an ice cold carton, your mood becomes significantly better seeing your favorite flavor of ice cream. you end up grabbing the ice cream as you tossed aside the lid and dug into it with the provided spoon.

your lover chuckles in amusement, tracing the tip of his nose against your hair, "do you feel better now?"

"yes." you answer him with a giggle, cuddling your body even closer to his as you felt the aches and pain of your period slowly melt away while in his embrace.

"ah, i see that you are menstruating."

heat was felt against your cheeks when zayne notices your sour mood and the blood stains seen against the sheets. this was your first month living together with him, and despite how you couldn't help or control the intensity of your cycle, you still felt embarrassed.

"s-sorry, i should have slept with a towel beneath me. i'll be sure to wash-"

but zayne cuts off your nervous rants while saying your name in a stern (but gentle) tone, "there's no need to feel embarrassed. what you're going through is just part of a female's anatomy. it's something you can't control, and i'm not upset with you at all."

you pout at him, hiding your face beneath the blankets while speaking to zayne, almost dejectedly, "i guess you're right."

zayne sighs, looking away from you all while adjusting his tie. "i have to work soon, will you be alright by yourself?"

you meet his gaze, your heart racing with anticipation. deep down, you wanted to experience what it was like to be in zayne's embrace, having him comfort you through your pain and discomfort that came with your cycle. yet, you didn't want to be a selfish girlfriend, or have him dislike you when your relationship was still so fresh and new to you and him both.

"n-no, i think i'll be fine, zayne. i'll see you tonight, okay?"

zayne gives you a stiff nod, already closing the door to your bedroom before stepping outside. you felt a little disappointed, watching as zayne left you with little hesitation. with plans to pout yourself to sleep, you let out a huff and ducked your head beneath the covers, curling into a fetal position to help with easing the excruciating pain that came with your cramps.

you were ready to close your eyes when the door opens once more, revealing zayne. sitting up in bed, you run a hand through your hair, trying to hide your pout, "what is it? did you forget something?"

he shakes his head in response, "no, it didn't feel right to leave you here all alone. even if i did go to work, my mind would be preoccupied with you and your sad face."

you were about to deny that you felt sad at the thought of him leaving, yet the words refused to come out of your mouth. instead, you watch as zayne takes off his tie, unbuttoning his shirt before rejoining you in bed.

"don't worry." a soft chuckle was heard against your ear, "i already called in and decided to use one of my pto days. another surgeon will take my place for the day, and i'll come back in a few days, when you feel better."

it takes you a herculean effort to hide your grin, and when you couldn't handle it anymore, you hid your face within his chest. "but you're the best cardiac surgeon akso hospital has."

"and there are other competent surgeons as well." zayne answers you, and you could hear the smile in his voice.

as he rubs comforting circles against your abdomen, you felt your eyelids grow heavier. unable to remain awake, you fell into a peaceful slumber while in zayne's embrace, smiling in your sleep when you felt something soft pressed against your hair.

a soft moan was the sole form of communication you could manage when xavier wakes up in the middle of the night, feeling your jostling movements against the shared bed.

"hey, what is it? what's wrong?" his voice was thick with sleep, blue eyes lazily looking down at you and how you were practically clinging to him. another whimper was heard coming from you, with your body practically curling up against his.

"sorry, these cramps seem to hit me at the worst times." you manage to admit to your hunter boyfriend, making his eyes go wide when he sees the spot of blood against his sheets. he hears another whimper coming from you, and finally decides to pull you even closer to him. knowing that you were in pain makes xavier hyper-focused on helping you feel better.

"sssh, it's okay, i'm here, i'm here." xavier adjusts his hold on you, purposely cradling your body against his. with your back pressed against his chest, he allows the palm of his hand to flatten against your abdomen, trying to massage the cramps that you felt.

with his gentle massages and soft words of reassurance, you visibly began to relax, letting out a soft moan while pressing yourself even closer to his chest. no words were spoken as xavier continues to comfort you. "it's late at night, so there's not much i can do, but when morning comes, i can take you out to get breakfast at your favorite café."

your pain manages to ease up, allowing you to practically melt against him. feeling drowsy now, you give xavier a nod, turning around so that you could hide your face within his chest. "mhmm, sounds good... xavier."

the young hunter chuckles, pressing one last kiss against your forehead, taking a moment to admire your sleeping features before closing his eyes once more, not daring to let you go as he keeps you pressed against him.

rafayel was able to sense when it was that time of the month for you. you didn't have to complain about your pain or how uncomfortable it was.

in fact, your lover actually takes a break from work, setting his artworks to the side while tending to your every need. him spoiling you so much makes you utterly giddy, unable to contain your happiness as rafayel took care of you during your time of need.

from ordering all of your favorite foods, to hand feeding you your favorite desserts, it was easy to say that he treated you like a queen while in his care. and it was thanks to his thorough care that you found your monthly cycles to be much more bearable.

at the end of the day, rafayel keeps you in his embrace, stripping both you and him of your clothes before preparing a bath for you. while the porcelain tub fills with water, the artist takes a moment to select your favorite scented bubbles before pouring it into the warm waters.

as the bubbles began to multiply with the rapidly filling water, rafayel shuts off the faucet, giving you a mischievous grin before entering the tub with you still in his arms. your giggles echo throughout the bathroom, and you felt so content and happy while hiding your face within the base of his throat.

with a hum of your name, rafayel places the palm of his hand against your naked abdomen, his touch becoming much warmer than usual. even though the slight heat was something that was new to you, you basked in it, allowing the heat to course through you, taking away the pain.

"rafayel... what- what are you doing?"

you feel the way your boyfriend shrugs, pressing a kiss against your damp hair, "i used a bit of my evol to warm my hands... it's something that i've been trying to perfect to help you in situations like this."

you were now filled with love for him, eyes gazing at him with absolute adoration. with your body practically seeking rafayel's warm touch, you eagerly press yourself closer to him, basking in his rich chuckles as he meets your gaze, leaning down to give you a searing kiss that conveys the depths of his love for you.

"don't you think you're being a bit too overdramatic?" caleb calls out your name in an exasperated manner, but you could only manage a weak glare at him in response.

"i am not being too overdramatic, i'm in serious pain right now, caleb! but of course, you wouldn't know since you never had to deal with this type of pain." your words send a wave of empathy through him, and he figured that you were right, that he didn't know what you were going through.

your boyfriend lets out a sigh, eyes trailing over your figure as you remained hunched over and curled up in bed. knowing that you were probably in too much pain to move, he starts searching through your apartment, grabbing the necessary items before bringing them to you.

"alright, time to scoot over." you grumble and whine some more, making room for caleb all while letting out soft whines here and there. caleb manages to place you within his arms, taking advantage of his strength when he sits up in bed, placing you on his lap while allowing you to cling to him.

he opens the cold bottle of water, offering you two tablets of your pain medicine to take. even through your pouts, you take the medication and swallow both tablets while draining the water bottle. along with the medicine, he offers you a bag of snacks he had bought for you earlier, unwrapping them for you. as he offers one of the snack cakes to you, his smile widens, watching as you cutely bite into it.

"that's my good girl." he teases you, cooing at you as you could feel the heat against your cheeks. enjoying just how close you were to him, caleb presses several kisses against your cheek, not stopping until you were left a giggling mess.

"how about we just stay indoors, and i can order some chinese takeout for both of us for dinner tonight?" your boyfriend asks you all while gently massaging at your tender abdomen.

you hum in agreement to his plans, already opening a chocolate bar as you bit into it, all while leaning into his form. basking in his warmth, you relax while in his embrace, already feeling better as your lover spent the entire day taking care of you without a single complaint.

and you couldn't have been happier at the fact that you had managed to capture the heart of someone so perfect.

end notes: i am on my period;;; and i am d y i n g 🫠 i would love to have these lads men spoil me in my time of need,,,,,, currently unedited but i’ll make any changes once this is posted ♡

all stories are written by rei; please do not repost, plagiarize, or translate my works!!

[girls--complex]

Cringetober 7 is crossover. So I MLP-ified my own imaginary animals + drew this last night because I felt inspired.. Rule #1 is have fun / be oneself. I also did a "pony"(bull) St. Luke because, well, St. Luke has a "pony"sona basically already, and I don't want pony Paul to be all alone. Let me preempt the inevitable discussion by stating I feel-- just my opinion-- pony Jesus' cuty mark would be an ichthys(/wound) more than a cross.

[sayoneee]

☆ PARENT TRAP

in which, a plan is devised to set the two of you up (1.9k)

contains: luke castellan x fem! reader. mortal au. baby percabeth (they are 12). percys pov. loser older brother luke castellan 🔛🔝

kashaf’s note: i think we can tell i love my music references by now. (answering requests soon!)

i. remember the time - michael jackson

PERCY HAS ALWAYS liked afternoons: sitting on the green couch in his apartment, the smell of his favorite blue cookies wafting through the air, and the constantly running episodes of gilmore girls on the tv — that you had convinced him to give a try — and sometimes the addition of grover, who was prone to start passionate tirades on climate change.

though after summer camp, his relatively quiet afternoons now included at least two mentions of “seaweed brain” and two of “wise girl”. 

percy’s trying to stay focused on rory freaking out over thanking dean for something (annabeth is almost laser-focused), but the doorbell rang a while ago, and you still haven’t returned. 

“annabeth,” he whispered, to no avail — he guessed dean really had that effect on people. he tried again, waving a hand in front of her face. she blinked twice before being lifted from the spell of gilmore girls. 

“what?” annabeth asked.

“who’s at the door?” 

annabeth’s eyebrows rose. she turned around, looking past where you were still holding the door open, one hand animatedly gesticulating, the other still on the doorknob. 

“that’s my brother,” annabeth said, turning back to look at percy. 

but percy isn’t paying attention to her right now, instead, he’s focusing on the bits of conversation audible between you and this stranger, who’s smiling very peculiarly down at you.

“— no way, me too,” the stranger is saying, grinning.

you’re saying, “deadass? prove it —” 

“— are you always so skeptical —” 

percy gets up off the couch, annabeth beside him, striding over to you and the stranger, who, for a reason he can’t quite put a finger on, seems weird. 

“hi,” percy says, looking at you, pointedly ignoring the stranger. you and the stranger seem to freeze, your hand halting mid-tuck of your hair behind your ear, something percy has only seen you do around one of your ex-boyfriends. 

“hi,” annabeth says, looking at the stranger, who smiles in response. again, weird.

“ready to go?” the stranger asks, “or are you going to take over their spare bedroom?”

“luke, you’re not funny,” annabeth grumbles, but she doesn’t look that put out by luke’s teasing percy notes. 

you’re smiling, but you’re not looking at annabeth. you’re looking at luke, your one hand still on the doorknob. interesting. 

“you’ve got your yankees cap?” you confirm as annabeth laces up her converse, as you and luke are engaged in a tiny conversation of your own. percy wordlessly hands the worn-out cap to annabeth once she’s finished, saying his goodbye.

once annabeth and her brother are long gone and you’re no longer leaning against the door, you’re still smiling widely, and percy wonders why.

ii. shoop - salt n pepa  

gilmore girls is on again, and luke is here to pick up annabeth. again. but for whatever reason, annabeth still hasn’t left, and you and luke are sitting in the kitchen, alone, conversing loudly. 

annabeth isn’t as hyper-focused on dean and rory’s argument as percy had thought she would be a week ago — he assumed that dean’s appeal died the minute he got mad in that banged-up car. annabeth is saying something about architecture, eyes shining, though he’s not sure which one she’s talking about, hagia sophia or st. basil’s cathedral. your loud laugh seems to ring from the kitchen every minute or so, and well since you’ve begun babysitting him, he can’t say the sound is unfamiliar, but the frequency is suspicious. he doesn’t trust luke. 

“annabeth,” he says, when she’s stopped talking.

“percy,” she responds in the same tone, her smile bright.

“how long has your brother been in the kitchen for?” he says, trying to sound nonchalant, but missing the mark horrifically.

annabeth looks at the watch on her wrist, “woah —”

“what does woah mean?” percy knows he’s being impolite, and his mom taught him to never interrupt people, but he can’t help it at this moment. 

“i was just getting to that, seaweed brain,” annabeth rolled her eyes good-naturedly, “we were supposed to leave an hour and half ago.”

this was bizarre. “no offense, but what does my babysitter and your brother even have in common to be talking nonstop for an hour and half?”

“no idea,” annabeth says, thoughtfully. “is she in a band? luke’s in a band.”

“no,” percy says, but he thinks he remembers your last boyfriend being in a band. “is your brother a senior?”

“yeah — does she do boxing? luke does.”

“i actually don’t know,” percy pauses, “i think we should see for ourselves,” he stands up. 

“wait,” annabeth says, “they might go quiet if they see we’re around. let’s just turn off the tv and eavesdrop.”

percy grins, annabeth was such a genius, “you got it, wise girl.” 

they’re both so silent, he wonders if you’ll notice, but with the way you’re laughing again, borderline giggling, actually — which is odd — as you say, “shut up, you know what i meant,” he doesn’t think you’ll realize. 

“erm, actually i don’t,” luke says, nasally (in what percy hopes is mockery). 

percy looks at annabeth, who rolls her eyes at him and mouths, ‘he’s being ironic’. percy stares at the patterns in the carpet, and annabeth stares at the picture of percy and his mom hung on the wall, as they continue to strain their ears — which isn’t hard because of how noisy you and luke are together.

“you’re so insufferable.”

“and you’re the one who invited me in, so.”

“i was being nice,” you sound like you’re protesting, but percy and annabeth note the amusement in your voice with another shared glance.

“you? nice? let’s be forreal.”

“i’m literally not even mean.”

“you literally are.”

annabeth peeks at him, and percy thinks he’s had enough of listening to this conversation, which is quickly becoming weird. and mushy. he can practically see how you’re looking at luke, and how he’s looking at you, which is not at all something he wants to imagine.

he nods at annabeth, and they both try to make their footsteps as loud as possible when they start approaching the kitchen, just in case. 

he’s grateful to every higher being out there when he and annabeth find you and luke in the kitchen simply sitting next to each other, no funny business involved. 

iii. doo wop (that thing) - ms. lauryn hill

you’re on the phone, giggling. annabeth is over again, and there’s no luke in sight, but percy suspects he’s on the other end of the line. 

percy sighs and turns to annabeth, who always seems to know what to do because this little situation has gotten unbelievably out of hand. 

“is that your brother on the phone?”

annabeth’s concentration on the teetering jenga tower on the coffee table lingers, doo wop (that thing) playing on the tv in the background, “yeah, i think so.”

“how do you know?” percy asks, watching annabeth carefully choose a jenga block to remove.

“they like each other,” annabeth says, looking at him, as if it’s as obvious as grass being green.

“no, they don’t,” percy pauses for a minute when annabeth raises her eyebrows at him. “how do you know?” 

“luke’s always calling her at home,” annabeth said, “and he made her a mixtape.”

“that doesn’t mean they like each other, that just means he likes her,” percy points out, crossing his arms. 

they hear you giggle in the kitchen again. annabeth looks at him as if that proves her point.

annabeth blinks, her face lighting up, “oh my god, percy, we should set them up.” 

percy stares at her. he can’t deny that for as long as he’s known annabeth, she’s seldom been wrong, but he doesn’t think this is the best idea. but, percy trusts annabeth, so he agrees.

iv. this is how we do it - montell jordan

percy’s spying on you. well, he doesn’t consider it to be spying exactly, he’s just making sure nothing happens to you because despite annabeth’s constant defense of her brother, percy still doesn’t trust luke. percy’s always thought of you more than just his babysitter, after all the attempts at making blue hot chocolate and the comforting after nightmares, you’ve turned into his sister. 

he’s at annabeth’s place now, and both of them decided to put their — what annabeth swears is fool-proof — plan into action. step number one: getting luke to invite you inside when you come to pick him up (which was so unbelievably easy, considering how luke has perpetual heart eyes when you’re around).

currently, you’re in the kitchen with luke (the two of you are always congregating in kitchens for some reason), and annabeth decided that she and percy absolutely had to keep an eye on the two of you.

you’re gasping, “luke castellan, you are such a liar.”

luke is laughing, “no i’m not.” his cheeks are red.

you’ve seemed to notice this, and percy can see your gaze soften as you look at luke, but that doesn’t stop you from making your point, “no, oh my god, you call me the mean one but here you are, talking shit about your rivals, just because they’re better?”

percy has seen you argue with your ex-boyfriends, but not like this — not bright-eyed, and smiling, and none of them have been able to just flow the way you seem to with luke. this is it, he thinks, annabeth was completely and utterly right (as she is 90% of the time). 

“you take that back right now, those motley crue knockoffs aren’t better than us,” luke says, sounding kind of angry, but percy can see his smile.

“you’re totally bugging,” you say, “what’s wrong with motley crue?”

luke looks scandalized, and almost as if he’s pleading, he says, “please tell me you’ve at least listened to guns n roses,” pushing his hands together in a namaste position.

“i don’t live under a rock, castellan,” you rolled your eyes at him, pushing his hands down. annabeth shares a look with percy.

“i mean, you never know,” he says, and you scoff, shoving him.

percy raises his eyebrows at annabeth, and she seems to know exactly what he’s thinking — time to put step two into action: set up a going-out idea.

percy and annabeth pretend to walk closer to the kitchen, to give the two of you time to spring apart, because you and luke weren’t a very pg distance right now — maybe pg-thirteen, but percy wasn’t supposed to be watching those, so.

annabeth jerks a finger at percy, as you and luke looked up at their arrival, addressing luke, “percy doesn’t believe that your band actually plays in public.”

percy’s head whips toward annabeth, trying not to glare at her, because the look on luke’s face right now was not at all amusing, but at least you were smiling, so you’d definitely stop luke from killing him.

“yeah, luke,” you say, smirking, “where do you guys even play?”

luke frowns, “the usual but we’re playing at the fair next week if you’re so interested.” the last part is aimed at percy, but their plan is going well so far, so percy doesn’t think he’ll have to sleep with one eye open tonight.

“when?” you ask, interested.

percy watches luke turn to you, surprised. “saturday — why, you wanna come?”

“yeah,” you admit easily.

percy looks at annabeth, who’s smiling and percy can’t help but feel proud of their idea.

“really? we don’t go on until like seven though.”

“yeah, someone has to be there to cheer for you so you don’t feel too bad when no one else does,” you grin.

luke turns to you, masking his smile with a fake air of irritation, “gee, thanks.”

“what are friends for?”

percy shares a disappointed glance with annabeth who begins to shake her head, as luke’s smile freezes in place, and you suddenly look extremely remorseful.

time to come up with a new plan. 

© sayoneee on tumblr. do not repost, plagiarize, translate or claim any of my works as your own.

[withwritersblock]

Caffeine

~Caffeine by Jack Kays~

Author's Note: Fun fact I saw Jack Kays in concert and he played this song for the first time at my concert before it was released. Almost sobbed when I heard it. As always italics are flashbacks Summary: Luke Hughes proposes to Y/N Warnings: idk? Word Count: 2,038 Luke Hughes x fm!reader

The ring has been in his pocket for nine weeks. He’s taken it with him on away games and carried it with him wherever he went in case he wanted to ask. Despite having a specific plan to ask her at his lake house. It wasn’t because it was a special place in his heart, it was because of how gorgeous the place looked during sunsets and sunrises.

When she’s visiting with them in Michigan it was one of their favorite activities to sit on the roof and watch the sun rise. They never really got a lot of sleep while they were there, so they’d watch the sunset while on the boat with his family and friends. 

Tonight was no different as they were all on the boat together watching the orange light up the sky and blend into the beautiful lake. Quinn and Jack were cracking jokes as Y/N was laying in Luke’s lap as he ran his fingers through her hair. The ring box was back in his room in the lake house. It wasn’t the right time, except right now, there was no right time. Nothing felt perfect. 

Leaning his head down, he brought his lips close to her ear, “Hey,” he whispered. She tilted her head back, meeting his gaze. “Are you tired?” he asked as he brushed a few pieces of hair away from her face. She hummed as a reply as she tucked her head back against his chest.

“Take a nap,” he mumbled as he pressed his lips to the top of her head. She took a deep breath as he continued running his fingers through her hair soothingly. 

During his study hall, students in his high school were allowed to roam the school. They had a little freedom on where they wanted to do their assignments. Luke’s favorite spot was the auditorium where the theater performances were held. 

It was always extra quiet, dark, and he was always alone. Until one random Tuesday his sophomore year of high school where he was sitting on the floor all the way in the back.

He was typing up his essay about The Great Gatsby when he heard a voice singing. He lifted his gaze up to see the gorgeous girl pacing the stage and singing a song he didn’t know. It was a song from a musical, he concluded by the way her voice hit the notes. 

She wasn’t trying, he could tell but the way her voice was so effortlessly beautiful had his heart beating fast. He delicately placed his computer beside him as he slowly stood up. He didn’t recognize her, he knew everyone in the school. Or so he thought because he’s never seen her before.

She continued to sing as she was walking off of the stage until she lifted her gaze from the floor to see Luke.  She screamed as she slammed her hand against her chest. “Oh my god! What the hell are you doing!?” she shouted as her heart began racing fast.

“I’m sorry! I’m sorry, oh my-I’m sorry I didn’t mean to scare you!” he let out panickedly as her scream nearly made him collapse. “I didn’t know you were in here,” he mumbled. 

“What the hell were you doing sitting on the floor!?” she shouted as she brushed her hair away from her face. She took a deep breath.

“I spend my study hall here! No one is normally in here. I’m sorry,” he let out as he met her gaze, it was dark but her eyes were shining brightly.

She took a hesitant breath as she dropped her hand from her chest, “I spend my study hall in here too, I didn’t know someone else was in here,” she mumbled. He furrowed his eyebrows as he tilted his head to the side.

“Wait, so you’ve been in here all year?” Luke questioned and she nodded slowly. “Well this is awkward,” he mumbled.

“I rehearse here all of the time, how did you not know I was here?” she asked suspiciously. 

“I normally wear my headphones at full blast but I forgot them in my brother’s car this morning,” he mumbled as he smiled softly.

Luke was standing in his room, staring at the ring box in his hand. He spent every day staring at the ring trying to picture it on her hand. He always went back and forth if the ring was the right one.

Ellen knocked on his door, he quickly shoved the ring box into his pocket as she pushed the door open. “Hi honey,” she mumbled as she stepped inside, Luke took in a sharp breath as he pulled the box back out of his pocket. 

He flipped the box open again to stare at it. He slowly sat down on the bed as she sat down beside him. “It’s beautiful, Luke, stop overthinking it,” she mumbled as she stared towards his features. He pulled his lips between his teeth as he met his mother’s gaze.

“What if she says no?” he asked barely above a whisper. 

Ellen pulled her head back as she shook her head, “She won’t,”

“You don’t know that, there’s always a chance she will say no,” he countered as he looked back towards the ring.

“She loves you,” she mumbled as she wrapped her arm around his back pulling her youngest son into a side hug. “And you love her, all you have to do is ask.”

“That’s easier said than done,” he let out with a chuckle. After a few moments of silence he asks, “Do you think we’re too young? Like, is it too early to ask?” 

Ellen paused for a few moments as she took a deep breath, “You’ve been together for over five years, that’s long enough to know if you want to marry someone. Just because you are twenty years old doesn’t mean you don’t know what love means. You’ve spent five years loving the same girl, that shows that you are mature enough to want to ask the question.” 

He smiled as he met his mom’s gaze as he nodded slightly, “I knew I wanted to marry her the first time I met her,” he let out as he pressed his lips together, “I don’t think I ever told you that,” he mumbled.

“No, no you didn’t,” she let out as she rested her head on his shoulder, “I’m proud of you,” she mumbled. He smiled softly as he took a deep breath in.

She was standing at her locker, swapping out her textbooks when Luke came up behind her and leaned against the locket beside her. She jumped as she placed her hand against her chest, “Why do you always feel the need to scare me?” she asked while laughing, she slammed the locker shut as they began walking towards the theater together.

She rehearses for her choir and musical performances while he sits and studies for his exams. He shrugged his shoulders as he tightened his backpack. He bit his bottom lip as he fought off the smile on his lips. “What are you thinking, Luke?” she asked as she licked her lips nervously. 

“There’s that ice cream place a few streets away from school, I was wondering if you wanted to go after school,” he asked shyly. She squinted her eyes towards him and smiled widely.

“Are you asking me out?” she questioned, already knowing the answer based on the redness of his cheeks.

“Yeah, to ice cream,” he mumbled as he pushed the door open to the theater, letting her walk in first. “Where some people may consider it a date,” he muttered. 

“Oh and are you considered some people because I’m some people,” she teased as she leaned her body against the brick wall beside them. He smirked as he glanced towards her lips. 

“Oh I’m definitely some people,” he said as he took a step towards her, his gaze lingering on her lips. He thought about kissing her like he’s wanted to since the first time he met her. 

She leaned towards him kissing him urgently, it was her first kiss ever. He quickly reciprocated the kiss, pushing her against the wall. He pulled away as he rested his forehead against hers, “Wow,” he mumbled as his heart was racing. His mind was in shambles as she was only an inch away from him.

It was six in the morning, the sky was slowly becoming more blue as the hues of orange were still vibrant in the sky. It was cold enough for them to wear hoodies, an easy way for him to hide the ring in his pocket. 

The words were circulating his mind as if he was running seven miles on six hundred miligrams of caffeine. His heart slapping hard against his chest, his head aching as his hands were shaking. He was terrified she would say no. But he knew she had absolutely no reason to. She wouldn’t have been with him for as long as she was if she didn’t want to marry him. He knew that.

Her head rested on his chest as he was tightening his grip around the little box in his pocket. He tilted his head to the side pressing his lips to the top of her head. She hummed against his chest as she ran her hand along his chest. 

“I love the city but nothing beats this,” she mumbled as her gaze admired the ripples in the water as the orange casted a gorgeous view against the water. He took a deep breath as he slowly forced her to sit up with him. 

She furrowed her eyebrows as she brushed her hair away from her face as she looked towards Luke. He put both of his hands into his pocket, fiddling with the box as he looked deeply into her sleepy eyes

“Did I ever tell you that the second I heard your voice, I knew you were going to be the love of my life?” he asked. 

Her lips curled upward slightly as she titled her head to the side. “No you haven’t,” she mumbled.

He took another deep breath as he dropped his gaze towards his lap, “I’ve tried finding the right words and how to perfectly say this but I don’t think there is a perfect way,” he paused. 

“I know we’re young and can’t even legally drink yet,” he chuckled, “I mean you moved to Jersey with me without giving it a second thought. That made me realize how all in you were with me. I’ve spent five years in love with you,” he met her gaze and saw the tears forming in her eyes, her smile was wide, “I know we’re young and people are going to have their opinions but-” he pulled the box from his pocket, opened it and showed it to her, “Will you marry me?”

“Yes, yes-” she let out excitedly as she lunged towards him wrapping him in a hug, he collapsed on his back. He laughed as he shut the box, securing the ring, as he tightly wrapped his arms around the center of her back. He squeezed her tightly to his chest. “I’m so in love with you,” she whispered in his ear before she leaned towards him, kissing him softly. 

“I was worried you were going to say no,” he mumbled as she pulled away, she shook her head dramatically. 

“There is not a single part of me that doesn’t want to marry you,” she let out before she kissed him again. He delicately placed the ring box into his pocket before he rested his hands onto her hips. “Put the ring on my finger,” she mumbled as she sat up, straddling his body. 

He excitedly reached into his pocket again to pull the box out. He pulled the ring from the holder and took a hold of her left hand. He slowly slid the ring on and it fit perfectly. She stared at it and started tearing up again. “It’s so beautiful,” she mumbled. He hummed as he stared towards her admiring her frame as the sunrise was behind her, illimuting her already gorgeous frame.

[rosenyras]

The Night of Feud and Desire

Aemond Targaryen x Velaryon ( Strong ) Female Reader

Summary: After Aemond stirs up the Dragon’s Dinner with his taunts, you go and search for him to give him a piece of your mind. However, the night ends very differently than you had planned.

Warnings: Nsfw, typical Targaryen inc*st, language, slight violence, slight choking, Aemond is rough, overstimulation

Notes: I used a Valyrian translator so apologies if it’s not correct!

To be truthful, you were just about done with every one of your family members.

Your brothers - more so Lucerys - despite being your bestest of friends had never irked you more so than tonight. You had wanted so badly for this dinner to go smoothly, especially after the heartfelt speeches both Alicent and your mother spoke towards the other. But the men in the family clearly had other plans.

By the time you had seen Lucerys’ teasing smirk towards Aemond, your foot kicking into his leg to abruptly stop him came too late and the long haired blonde had already embarked on his disguised digs towards Rhaenyra’s children. His part towards you, however, was slightly different - if not a bit basic - even though the obvious reference to Harwin Strong applied to you as well.

“To my beautiful niece, Y/N, I hope the days ahead of you treat you with kindness. And to my nephews …” And the night fell in sure swiftness after the rest of his words were alight in the air.

When the boys began their scuffle, you had originally wanted to intervene more so to get Aegon’s hands off your little brother. Though he was a nuisance, you were quite protective of him. However, a hand on your arm and a warning look belonging to your great uncle, Daemon, refrained you from doing so.

After all of you were dismissed to your separate bed chambers, only an hour had passed before you decided to leave. You did not blame Aemond for the retaliation in his own right, but the constant digs that he threw you and your brothers about being bastards over the last couple of years had rooted itself in your gut and would not ease unless you confronted him about it.

Aemond and your brothers war of words were one thing, to be entirely truthful you did not forget how Aemond was often tormented as a child, but most of that was derived from Aegon, and he did not show that same aggression towards his brother. And to you - you did not understand it.

You and Aemond were so very close as children, being outsiders in your own right - you, a girl amongst brothers and him, a dragonless child that was often picked on. You defended him from Aegon, and your brothers knew when to quiet so not to face your wrath. You also allowed Aemond to be close to your dragon, Rhyxia, so he could at least satisfy his yearning for a dragon.

In turn, he taught you the way of a sword - in secret of course. You were not allowed to join public practice due to the sole reason of your gender, so he would use whatever he learned in lessons to teach you how to defend yourself. The two of you had an undisclosed agreement of sorts, yet you had never been happier than when you were together.

And then, the distance grew when your mother announced your family would inhabit Dragonstone. Once the year passed and you and Aemond were reunited once more by way of Laena Velaryon’s funeral, it was as if no time had passed at all. Until your brothers and cousins engaged in a fight that took his eye.

You were not there during the attack, but you knew when you heard of the word he had chose to spit in the face of Luke and Jace - and by extension, you - your childhood bonding would be forever fractured. And as he stood with his mother and you yours, you never imagined yourself alone with Aemond again. Until now.

As you shut your door, you were instantly met with your assigned guard. He was a lovely young man, but as your eyes lay on him irritation grew within your bones. “Princess Y/N, where are you headed at such a late hour?”

Biting your lip, you deigned him a response that would indeed be unsatisfactory. “Ser Rolland, I just wish to go for a stroll alone, if you’ll excuse me…”

As you made to take a step, he placed a hand in front of you. “Your mother instructed I stay with you, I’m sorry, my lady.”

You loved your mother dearly, but right now you had to refrain from rolling your eyes at her overprotectiveness.

“Well, we best get a move on then, Ser Rolland.”

As you strolled the hallways, the sound of moving armour dawned each of your steps. It soon became clear to you in your want to keep the secrecy on where you were headed would be of no use, and besides, you couldn’t exactly remember where Aemond’s quarters were now, especially if his rooms had changed.

Turning to your guard, you placed a small smile upon your lips. “If you may, Ser, could you please escort me to Prince Aemond’s chambers?”

A single blink was all you received in terms of facial expression as your guard responded. “Of course, my lady.”

As he took charge, you followed Ser Rolland for quite a distance until he stopped outside a door that held a guard posted outside. So Aemond had changed his rooms. Interesting.

As you approached the door, you decided a knock would be more pleasant than simply barging in on your uncle, no matter how much you wished to do so. If he were to be indecent and you stumbled upon him with no clothes … you shook your head to get rid of those thoughts as your face warmed with embarrassment.

A faint call of ‘Enter’ was your only preparation before you opened and stepped inside Aemond’s room.

You noticed him immediately, sitting in front of a fireplace, his back towards you. You could only see the slightest hint of his face, his eyepatch calling to you as if serving you of a memory you would much rather forget.

“How may I help you, niece?”

His voice spoke louder than the crackling embers dancing in front of him. You clasped your hands behind your back, deigning your voice to remain as steady as possible. “How come you know it is me, uncle?”

Aemond’s head turned towards you in the slightest move that he might not have even moved at all. “Only you knock in such a pattern, Y/N. I have not forgotten.”

You couldn’t help but scoff slightly. “Yet it seems you have forgotten what I once was to you. Are you often in the company of remembering the knock patterns of bastards?”

Silence fell, the tension so heavy that you could easily slice it. And just as suddenly, Aemond stood, as if he couldn’t help but remind you that he towered over you even from afar. As he spoke, he crept closer and closer towards you - as if a magnetic pull was driving the two of you closer.

“You know those insults irk your brothers more so than you, it is why I speak them. Did you not say as a child you had no care for who your father was and by extension that word had no effect over you?”

Well. Damn.

To be truthful you did not expect him to remember such a throwaway comment and in such detail, perhaps you should know better than to underestimate Aemond Targaryen.

“You are right, but perhaps my expectations that you would have forgotten about this childhood melodrama were foolish-”

Not a second passed after those words left your mouth that Aemond had grabbed hold of your waist and pushed you up against the closest wall. Your back thudded with the impact, more so shock from not expecting such a move.

It was a low blow, of course it was, but you had not forgotten that Aemond had not even looked at you the night his eye was taken, as if acknowledging your presence was beneath him from that point forward.

Aemond placed a hand next to your head, caging you in with both his body and his glare. “Your brother took my eye and I swear, I will take revenge for that. You should be content that I did not do more tonight.”

Your eyes briefly flicked down to his lips but you forced yourself to keep eye contact with him, not allowing yourself to flinch away. Instead of replying in English, you flicked your tongue to Valyrian. “Ao would ōdrikagon nyke, Aemond?” You would hurt me, Aemond?

Aemond slightly tilted his head downwards before raising his eyes towards yours. “Daor ao, aōha brothers.” Not you, your brothers.

“Naejot ōdrikagon ñuha brothers iksis naejot ōdrikagon nyke.” To hurt my brothers is to hurt me.

Aemond immediately drew himself closer, his breath mingling with yours as he lifted his right hand up to your throat, to do what, you did not know.

All you replied with was a small whisper. “Kostilus, Aemond.” Please, Aemond.

And that seemed to break him.

Closing the short distance between your lips, Aemond crashed his mouth upon yours, not caring about the smashing of teeth - almost like he was desiring the slight pain. His left hand remain caged against your head while his right enclosed around your throat with the slightest pressure as if it was in every inch of his desire to control you.

A slight whimper escaped you, the heat of anger and wanting building up inside you as you tried your best to convey that within the kiss. Once your mouth departed with that slight noise, Aemond didn’t miss a chance before slipping his tongue inside your mouth, your tongues not so much as dancing but instead his just completely dominating yours.

You lifted your hand against his cheek, the rough leather on the straps of his eyes patch rubbing against your skin. And as suddenly as you had placed it there, Aemond used the hand that was against your head to grab both of yours, lifting your arms up and holding them against the wall.

The sudden impact caused you to gasp, moving your hips subconsciously forward, instantly feeling the effect you were having on Aemond with his hardness stretching tight against his pants. In return, Aemond let the slightest of sighs slip between his lips as he moved his mouth towards your neck, tugging on your earlobe and using his tongue to run its way up and down your skin.

“I’ve wanted you since we were young, Y/N. My heart has always belonged to you.” His right hand moved from your neck to cup your cheek. “Ziry va moriot kessa.” It always will.

“Aemond, I-” before you had a chance to finish your sentence, Aemond took ahold of your arms and dragged you towards his bed, placing you on it before making his way on top of you so the two of you were eye to eye.

“I need to hear you say it, Y/N, that you want this.”

“I do,” you breathed, your words no more than whispers. “I want you, Aemond.”

Giving you one final look, Aemond began moving his way down your body until he was face to face with your clothed lower half. Your dress for the night had been one that was easy to slip on and so you had no other expectations as Aemond quickly slipped it off and with it your undergarments. As you lay completely naked, your nipples hardening with the fresh air, Aemond’s eyes rove over every inch of your body, as if you were a meal he wished to take his time with.

As he lifted his hands towards your thighs, separating them to get a good view of your cunt, slight whines escaped your mouth with the need to be touched. Aemond’s fingers circled around your inner thighs, drawing closer and closer with such a teasing touch.

“Seven hells, Aemond, please just-”

Your whine was soon cut off with his lips upon yours and with it, his fingers finally found your cunt. Considering how wet you were, it took you by no surprise as he easily found his way to your clit, circling it with such ease that you nearly exploded right then and there. His mouth managed to silence most of your moans, but they soon were unleashed as Aemond moved to one of your nipples and began licking and softly biting at it.

It was soon after that he slipped a finger inside your entrance, moving with such efficiency that an added second wasn’t far behind. He soon moved to your other nipple, continuing the same movements. It was after he fitted a third finger inside did he speak.

“Jaelan naejot rȳbagon skorkydoso olvie ao jorrāelagon nyke, isse Valyrīha.” I want to hear how much you need me, in Valyrian.

You whined in defiance slightly, but you were too far gone to refuse altogether.

“Ao gīmigon skorkydoso olvie nyke desire ao, Aemond. Emā va moriot known ziry. Just, please-” You know how much I desire you, Aemond. You’ve always known.

Suddenly, Aemond removed his fingers from you, making you annoyed with displeasure. His raised his hands to his lips, tasting you while remaining eye contact. Having enough of being the only presence in the room without clothes, you quickly tore at his leathers to get rid of them. You just wanted to be close to him.

Once he was rid of his clothes, he hooked your leg around his body, lowering you on the bed as he hovered over you, the two of you simply staring at each other was enough to make you content in the moment. As you lifted your hand to his face, you spoke in a hushed tone. “Take me, Aemond. Make me yours.”

And that he did. Aemond placed a singular kiss on your lips as he directed his cock towards your entrance, pushing in as he rested his forehead on yours. His hand that wasn’t fisted in the sheets beside your head made its way to your clit, circling it to relieve some of the pain.

Your breaths were getting louder by the minute, slowly turning into moans as Aemond moved back and forwards, easing into you more with each thrust. As you wrapped your hands around his shoulders, pulling him even more closer to you - if that was possible - you breathed out, “Aemond… please.”

Taking that as a sign to go faster, he began moving with more urgency with every thrust. It was as if he was conveying how much passion he had for you with how direct he was with snapping his hips against yours. As the seconds pass and your moans became louder and louder, both of your release on the edge, you couldn’t help but slip out, “I love you.”

Aemond’s head was buried in the crook of your neck, his hitched breaths and slight sighs abruptly stopped, but his hips sure didn’t. Aemond began thrusting with sudden urgency, the bed creaking against the wall. The hand that was gripping your thigh began pressing harder, something that was surely going to leave bruises the next morning.

Your release crept up without warning, exploding with such urgency that you couldn’t help but yelp. Aemond, however, didn’t let up on his pace. At first you thought he was helping you ride out your orgasm, but then it became clear he had no intention of stopping. “Aemond-“

“Did you mean it?” His hips slowed to a steady pace as he raised his head to look you in the eye, his only sign of pleasure was his hitched breaths. You instantly knew what he meant and you didn’t even try to deny it during the midst of such pleasure.

“Yes, fuck, yes I meant it.” Your nails began raking down his back as you couldn’t help but chase after another orgasm. Aemond didn’t waste a second before fastening his pace, wanting you to reach the height of your pleasure before he came.

“Fuck, Aemond!” You would feel sorry for every pair of ears in close proximity to you, but right now the only focus was your second orgasm rippling through every part of your body. You soon felt Aemond cum inside you, his only hint of outward pleasure was a low grunt escaping his lips.

Still inside you, Aemond once again placed his forehead upon yours, placing his lips on yours with such contrasted gentleness to the pace of his hips moments before. He made sure to look you in the eyes before speaking.

“It is true for me too, I love you with every inch of my being, Y/N.”

[annabelle--cane]

Basira's last feat as a police officer was helping to save Callum from his kidnappers. There is an implied hook to a supposedly scrapped arc of a reunion between the two in season five. I think it makes some sense for her to work in a place geared towards children.

my thoughts exactly! she took to the reading and research parts of working in the institute quite quickly, and the "I’ve always held the opinion that the world would be a better place if everyone just thought more" line is very like the basira we know.

if I may make a stretch about the implications of a few lines, this is her second deputy head role, she says mr donaldson only "technically" runs the school, she more-or-less accepts celia's assertion that she's the one calling the shots, and she says she's been "in charge" at st luke's for five years. she might be second-in-command on paper while actually doing most of the work for any number of reasons (maybe she's a bit young to be officially heading a school like this, maybe it's just that mr donaldson is a man and she's not 😔), but I think this could also imply a proclivity towards working in partnerships where she still gets to exercise meaningful control and agency.

her two big problems in archives were passivity in the face of situations she knew she wanted to change and her tendency to act as an no-nuance judge of who and what is good or bad, and this seems like a setup that might mitigate those flaws and let her act as the best version of herself. she's in a position where she is expected to regularly take decisive action and can't just sit back and let things happen, but there is also someone a rung up the ladder from her who can (if he doesn't suck) let her know if her judgment is out of whack. it doesn't seem like she's relying on anyone to be her "fixed point" like with daisy, but she's not working alone.

[101flavoursofweird]

Level 5 COULD have given Flora good writing (post-Curious Village)… just look at Janice

I think Janice (or Melina, but I’ll call her Janice for simplicity sake) fills a similar role that Flora could have so easily had…

Janice isn’t physically strong or powerful like Emmy. Sure, Janice knocks out two guards with Luke’s help, but she can’t fight off a small army— and that’s okay! 

Despite this, Layton still lets Janice join them from the very start of the eternal life game. He doesn’t once argue that Janice should stay behind the stage curtain for her own safety. Granted, anyone who doesn’t compete in the game is shown to fall through the floor… but I still think it’s quite important that Layton doesn’t once worry about Janice’s presence out loud. During the prologue for PL4, Layton fusses even about Emmy’s safety, so this could be seen as a moment of growth for him!

Janice gets to interact with everyone from the start of her appearance— Layton, Luke, Nina, Whistler… We see flashes of her personality (Though it’s never distinguished whether this is Janice or Melina’spersonality!), like when she smiles at Luke’s antics, tucks Nina’s blanket around her, looks pensive when Whistler states Melina is gone, when she muses to a very confused Layton about the adventure being romantic, or when she excitedly compares the helicopter to a giant grasshopper… 

Janice even makes some contributions during the game for eternal life, like when she helps build the helicopter or she tries to save Amelia from Descole’s guards. It’s not a lot but it’s something.

Yes, she gets kidnapped on her own by Descole but like… so does Luke? All the eternal life contestants are kidnapped technically? And then, when the gang are surrounded by wolves Descole tells her to sing in order to save THEM?

Despite Mr. Whistler’s efforts, it’s Melina’s decision to leave in the end. She teaches him that he needs to let go, while keeping her alive in his memories, and she teaches Janice that she needs to start living her own life again. This is, undoubtably, Melina’s story.

It might not be fair to compare Janice/Melina to Flora (whose writing is stretched out across a whole trilogy)… and I think Flora’s writing in Curious Village alone is good. Flora, similarly, gets the final say in what happens to St. Mystere— she chooses to let the robots keep on living, after previously being scared of her robot step mother— and it’s her decision to leave with Layton and Luke in the end.

Following this, Flora gets some sweet moments with Layton and Luke on the Molentary Express and in Dropstone. They’re like a little family at the festival!

Flora doesn’t get her own puzzle animation in the second game, which could be because we’re not meant to see things from her perspective when Don Paolo steals her identity. (Though that didn’t stop Level 5 during Miracle Mask when Descole was disguised as Angela?) 

But for some weird reason, Flora just isn’t present in a lot of the cutscenes. Even when Layton and Luke step off the train and arrive in Dropstone?

Okay, maybe Level 5 just couldn’t be bothered animating Flora. A one-minute cutscene isn’t going to have the same amount of effort put into it as a 1hr 40 minute movie. 

And again, Don Paolo disguises himself as Flora from when they leave Folsense onwards, so maybe Luke and Layton have less interactions with ‘Flora’ so the player won’t suspect anything. This is a good, shocking twist! And we get a nice scene in the epilogue with Layton, Luke and Flora on the train journey home. Flora doesn’t get any voiced lines outside of a hum, but she looks happy!

So, what’s Lost Future’s excuse? Flora doesn’t even get a single mention until Layton and Luke run into her back in the present… and then they leave her because ‘it’s not safe’! 

Layton… Layton, I know you have PTSD after dying and losing a previous daughter-figure and after being betrayed multiple times and losing countless people in your past and Flora got kidnapped during your previous adventure… but this choice is garbage. This writing is garbage. 

Lost Future is the fan favourite of the series, but Flora’s writing and Layton’s interactions with her suck. And Luke’s, who constantly puts Flora down for NO REASON. There’s sibling rivalry but then there’s just being plain rude.

Where was the respect Layton and Luke had for Janice? Where was the trust they had in Emmy?

I know, the OG trilogy was released way before Eternal Diva. Level 5 actually stepped up their game when it came to writing female characters during the prequel series. (I love Lady Dahlia and Katia, but tell me with a straight face that they got as much focus as Arianna or Janice or Angela or Aurora. Claire was incredible, but she died.)

But… Flora appears in the Eternal Diva prologue in a small cameo. The writers did such a good job with Janice’s character, so could they finally apply the same writing to Flora—?

No. Flora looks scared when Layton unveils Don Polo’s disguise. Layton then tells Flora to stay herewhile he and Luke chase after Don Paolo. That’s it. And Flora hasn’t appeared in the series since.

[kastalani123]

Since my Percabeth Parent Swap Au has recently been infesting my brain a little, I wanted to share some other ideas for it!

Sally got the invisibility cap from Athena in Percy's cradle and gave it to him before she was taken by Hades in PJO

(ig Hades would maybe get some minor prophecy connecting Percy to the lightning bolt to the point he wants to leverage Sally against him?? Or maybe he assumed he was Poseidon's kid bc he likes the sea and he was just. Wrong)

Annabeth obv grows up in Cabin Eleven so she's a bit more of a thief and trickster, but also better understands Luke's and the Titan Army's motivation on a more personal level

She also doesn't have that thirst for a quest since she doesn't want to draw attention to herself, and is internally warring between wanting to leave Camp to see the world and wanting to stay because of how strong her scent is

Annabeth and Percy get claimed around the same time to tie them closer together and give basis for Annabeth choosing him as a questmate

Probably in the same game of Capture the Flag, I'd say? Annabeth comes in to help Percy out when he's getting his ass kicked and they get claimed

(their parents are pissed that they chose the same claiming time)

Annabeth has to live alone in Cabin Three, which. Sucks

Percy gets to have siblings tho!

Annabeth gets Riptide

(the two soon swap their godly gifts for the one they like better)

Also Annabeth doesn't have that same devotion to the gods/her godly parent so she doesn't see Percy's disrespect as so outlandish

The TLT prophecy would probably be different, though probably still include a line about Sally

Annabeth is also dealing with her biggest secret being aired out at the worst moment, as well as going from "random unclaimed kid" to "child destined to save/destroy the world" in one day

Luke tries so hard to get Annabeth to come with him and she almost does but she doesn't want to be what everyone fears

She doesn't go back to Frederick and Co. because they decide it's too dangerous for all of them, at least until the prophecy plays out. They try to keep in touch, though

Tyson is Annabeth's brother. In her Cabin. She gets to deal with that, too

Zöe sees parallels between herself and Annabeth (girl gives Riptide to a hero she's enamoured with (even though Annabeth is "more" of the hero)) so it takes her a bit longer to acknowledge Percy's trustworthiness

(no idea if Annabeth would still be the one kidnapped in TTC or if it'd be Percy)

With Mt St Helens, I'd say Percy tricks Annabeth into blowing the volcano up while he's still in it? Like, he didn't mean to still be inside but it turned out like that, I dunno. Annabeth never gets over the guilt of killing her best friend, even if he turned up alive two weeks after the fact

Unbreakable Annabeth. Can you imagine? Annabeth with the Curse of Styx? Esp a Cabin Eleven-raised Annabeth? She's tossing herself off the Big House because the Stolls dared her to

(she has the same curse as her brother! How wonderful, isn't it?)

She's the one that has to make the cursed blade choice with Luke. She has to give her dagger, gifted to her by her brother with a promise of family, to her brother to kill himself. She is. Very far from okay after that

Her bitterness against the gods wins out over her hubris to get her to refuse immortality

Annabeth is the one taken in HOO. Do with that what you will, I don't remember the books well enough to go into detail

Meanwhile Percy gets to go on the Mark of Athena quest and fight Arachne, which is all very nice for him

Annabeth gets to go feral in Tartarus. And I mean feral. As in, we're throwing out that "afraid of poison-bending" thing because Annabeth is the one losing her mind here and Percy is. Well, his fatal flaw is loyalty, and Akhlys had messed with his best friend (after Grover) and girlfriend. He's not telling Annabeth to stop until he thinks she's completely lost it

Also! Annabeth is not suddenly dumb, nor is Percy suddenly serious! Annabeth is still into architecture and STEM and books! She's still a skilled strategist, it just comes more from her experience and practice than an inborn talent! Percy still loves Montauk and skateboarding and joking around! But without the worry of being a Big Three child, he could more easily get the environment needed for him to explore learning, so he more obviously enjoys it! They don't just swap personalities and interests because they have affinities for some different things now.

[slafkovskys]

Angel loves morning cuddles.

she wakes up alone which is very rude. pouting all the way to quinn’s room with jack’s comforter wrapped around her body, she knocks timidly on the door before poking her head in, “quinny?”

“what’s wrong, angel?” quinn’s voice is scratchy in the way that it always was when he first wakes up. he lifts his head up off the pillow to look at her and her frowns, “are you okay?”

she shifts her weight from foot to foot, “jacky left me and ‘m cold.”

he sighs. they keep the house cold because that’s how she liked it, maybe it was an excuse to always wrap herself around one of the boys, maybe it was because she genuinely liked it. it was up for debate, but something that wasn’t up for debate was the way quinn easily lifts his own cover for her to slide under.

she grins, gliding across the room and letting jack’s comforter fall to the floor as she slips into quinn’s embrace. she presses a kisses to his bare chest as he slips his hand under her shirt, letting his fingers rest on the bare skin underneath, “thank you, quinny. love you.”

“love you too, angel. now sleep,” he should’ve been stronger, maybe sent her off to luke or back to jack’s bed, but it was barely eight am.

and even he couldn’t say no to that pout sometimes.

send in your requests for sts!

[fuckingstrange]

In the precinct (is crazy)

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WARNING: PWP/Porn without plot, straight into the smut again, Public sex(?), blowjob (l.a. receiving), nearly caught in the act, also caught after the fact, brief mention of the case being worked?, gn!r genitals only explained as “aching crotch” 1 (one) time, Luke pushes your head down 1 (one) time, mention of gagging 1 (one) time, brief handjob?, cum swallowing, SMUT, non-beta read; we make typos like my grandma without reading glasses.

WORDS: 690?+

PAIRING: Luke Alvez x gn!reader

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a/n: There's just something about this charity house I'm in that has me spitting out fics like a madman

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Luke is sat at one of the officer's desks after they had kindly offered him a seat, away from the other crowd of officers and the team so that he could think more clearly.

Well, He was originally trying to work on some of the profile himself, wanting to try and connect the dots that just weren't aligning before, But now, his mind is on nothing other than the feeling of your mouth wrapped around his aching dick.

Sitting with his chair tucked into the corner desk, nobody can see you beneath it, sucking him off like his semen holds the cure for homosexuality.

His hands are occupied typing on the computer, typing pure gibberish into a private document to make it look like he's busy without making it look like he's having a breakthrough on the case so that nobody approaches. “Cleverly”, He'll cough to disguise a groan whenever you take him completely into your mouth.

Luke makes the mistake of looking down and leaning back, enough to watch you for a moment. The sight of your head bobbing, tounge swirling around the tip of his dick, his breath catches and the moan he lets out is undisguisable. You slow the pace of your head’s bobbing when you hear somebody approach.

“Are you alright, Alvez?” Hotch’s voice rings through the room. It makes you tremble as you start to pull off of him, but the nudge his boot gives your own aching crotch makes you keep going, just much slower.

“Yes, I'm- okay. Just stressed. Can't figure out how to.. to connect the profile to the killer enough that we can.. really pin him.” Luke manages to calmly respond, the only hint that anything else is wrong being the way he stops speaking to take a breath.

He leans back in the chair just as Hotch turns around to leave after a moment of lingering, obviously not believing everything is okay but deciding to leave him alone. His hand finds the back of your head and shoves it further down onto his cock, making you gag around it.

Swallowing, you see the way his hips subtly roll forward to make it look like he's merely adjusting in his chair. His dick throbs in your mouth, drool nearly dripping off the shaft from how long you've been going at him. You shove yourself down further this time, head nearly poking out from your spot beneath the desk. Swallowing around him again, you're able to look up and see the way his eyes flutter shut and his head dips.

You reach up to wrap your fingers around him while your head pulls back, lapping at the head while you stroke him. Within seconds, you're having to let your lips wrap back around his tip to make sure every drop of his cum spilling ends up in your mouth to leave no traceable evidence other than your breath afterwards.

Luke stays surprisingly quiet as he finishes, his face beet red and a bit of sweat forming on his brow line, but that just makes him look hot. Temperature wise.

Staying on your knees beneath the desk, you wait for him to give you the all clear before sliding out and standing up. He stands up as well, claiming that you should both step outside for a moment so that he can calm down. Turning around to walk to the door, you see Tara with her eyes widened and her jaw slack in surprise.

Luke's red face suddenly turns pale, like he saw a ghost. Yours matches.

Your weak stumble of a cover up isn't enough. She doesn't believe you were “fixing his chair.” Nobody really would, you were a fool to think that she'd believe anything other than the truth. Tara's look of surprise shifts to one of amusement. She even chuckles.

“Yeah, chair must have been a little.. stiff, huh?” She teases, giving the both of you a wink before motioning for you both to step outside like Luke had asked.

You both exit with an embarrassed look on your face, aware she won't snitch but won't let you live it down either.

[yesokayiknow]

do you have anything more about the bigeneration au for 12 and 13, I'd love to hear what you think their dynamic would be.

-they take great delight in confusing everyone any time they can. twelve calls thirteen old man and thirteen calls twelve young woman and it makes them laugh every time. while they love the fam equally thirteen tends to end up chatting with graham and (badly) playing footie with ryan while twelve does yaz's nails and hair and it's nice that they don't have to force themselves to do activities that don't feel right

-twelve actually tells the fam things! like still not a lot but at least they hear the name time lord before like a whole year has passed lmao. thirteen really fucking hates it. he's like tough. stop trying to be unknowable bitch. he (pretty vaguely) tells graham about river and the three of them just sort of sit together sometimes reminiscing

-while they generally are pretty chill they also have a competition on who can explain the most things the quickest. every time something new happens they're like standing in the corner visibly shaking waiting for the fam to pick one of them to explain. thirteen starts the points system just so she gets picked more often, and then twelve starts composing little tunes for whoever asks the smartest question. the fam think it's adorable

-twelve convinces yaz & ryan to go to uni. thirteen's like we don't really have time and twelve's like There Is Always Time For Education. unlike thirteen, who would literally die if left alone, he's always trying to gently encourage the fam to have lives outside of the tardis. he's also trying to convince thirteen that being alone's okay at times (it's not going well)

-twelve's still lecturing at st luke's in his spare time (though it's harder, without nardole and bill and missy). whenever he's having a particularly bad day thirteen turns up to his lectures and shouts corrections. he will never ever admit how much it amuses and distracts him

-they still fall out sometimes, because who do they hate more than themselves? they both can be pretty condescending and impulsive and it turns out that it sucks to be on the other end of that. thirteen refuses to take care of herself in a way that borders on obsessive and hates when twelve tries to keep her safe; twelve tends to isolate himself for days upon end and hates when thirteen tries to drag him back into sociability. they usually keep these arguments away from the fam. the first time they really really lose it at each other in a public space is when they first encounter the cybermen. it takes. uh. a while to get back into a good place after that

-twelve mainly gets frustrated with thirteen more than the other way around because she literally refuses to show any pain or negativity Ever until it all explodes. this is partly because a lot of the coping mechanisms she instinctively wants to use are little quirks they started doing due to the loop in the confession dial and she doesn't want to trigger him. when he realises this he's like i'd rather you tapped out the seconds when you feel trapped than yelled at all of us actually.

-sometimes twelve's like hey you're going all cold and weird again. go kick something. and thirteen's like fuck off and then she goes and punches a cushion and yells into a black hole and comes back later like thanks you were right. and sometimes thirteen walks into a room and takes one look at twelve and walks right out and goes and gets his guitar and chucks it at him and after like five hours straight of playing he's like thanks man i really needed that

[mistress-of-vos]

It's their turn! 💛❤️✨

(Extra context of the meme below (mini fic?)!!!)

After the events of Red Robin, Babs and Luke inform Jean-Paul of the issues and problems going on among the bats. During a mission, Bruce got hurt again and has been benched, meaning the situation of "Dick covering for Batman" is once again back in town. This creates a lot of tension among Dick, Damian, Tim, Jason and Bruce, making it almost impossible for them to work together.

Having their hands full with actual city saving, Luke and Babs called JP to ask him to go back and help for a while. Luke does apologize for it, since he knows JP is way happier in Europe and working on his own. It's not that JP doesn't like Gotham, but he grew tired of Bruce and Dick treating him like trash, so he left months after Jason had that - violent encounter with Tim on Titans Tower.

Jean-Paul admits that was part of the problem too; he didn't like it that Bruce seemed so at peace with Tim getting hurt. And Tim... Tim allowed Bruce to ignore his pain. That was maddening, btw, and Jean-Paul had snapped a few times against Tim, screaming that he shouldn't let Bruce walk over him.

Whatever. Jean-Paul had left. He went to Europe and traveled, getting rid of the order of st. Dumas by himself alone, and then getting rid of other groups equally awful and cruel. It was a tiring, slow job. He traveled a lot, and from time to time visited Brian in Spain to chat, but mostly he focused on ending the cycle of violence that he had been raised into. Eventually he did, and just months later, Luke and Babs call.

Being back in Gotham is - weird. It has been years, and Jean-Paul feels uncomfortable around Jason and Damian. His dislike towards Dick hasn't lowered, and it has stayed as a mutual feeling, although JP can't help to feel a bit of pity for Dick when he sees how tired and old Dick looks once he takes off the Batman cowl. But hey, didn't Dick argue that JP wasn't worthy? Then perhaps he should carry the weight of the mantle he insisted JP tainted.

Mostly, JP doesn't like being back at Gotham. Until he sees Tim.

Tim, who has - grown into such a smart, beautiful and sassy young man. Tim, who wears eyeliner, mascara and red lipstick. Tim, with acrilic nails as sharp as Catwoman's. Tim, with a perfume even more hypnotizing than Poison Ivy. Tim, lethal and beautiful. Tim, that makes JP's knees tremble as if he's a teenage virgin boy.

And it gets worse when they start working together. Huge news! Ofc JP had been called back because Tim refused to work with the bats anymore, and it's JP's duty to work with him and push him back to Babs (she does understand that Tim doesn't want to be close to the others, but she worries about Tim being alone, and doesn't want him going out without any support). And doing that is hell, because JP falls hard and deep for Tim.

JP is sure that he was completely whipped by the end of the third week working together. Maybe even sooner.

That's how Luke learns about it, since JP is awful at hiding his crushes. And Luke has the nerve to laugh, telling JP to ask Tim out as if Tim wasn't way out of JP's league! Does Luke enjoy seeing him suffering? JP thinks he will go crazy if he has to hear one more phrase about taking risks...

And yet JP follows Luke's advice: He asks Tim out.

He asks Tim out in a chat. A grupal chat. With Luke on it. And maybe he's hugging his cat George all the time while waiting for Tim to reply.

Against all logic, Tim says yes, and then texts JP on their private chat (the one that's supposed to be used for cases only), saying just one sentence:

"You're adorable, Jean-Paul."

For the record, the first date goes great. JP manages to get to third base, and Tim smirks smugly while murmuring "Puppy" on JP's ear, nails holding his long blonde hair to keep him in place: At Tim's mercy.