#guy gardner x you

[dollwritesarchive]

𝐝𝐚𝐝𝐝𝐲’𝐬 𝐠𝐚𝐦𝐞 — 𝐠𝐮𝐲 𝐠𝐚𝐫𝐝𝐧𝐞𝐫

𝗰𝗼𝗻𝘁𝗲𝗻𝘁 𝘄𝗮𝗿𝗻𝗶𝗻𝗴𝘀 ∣ smut ( minors dni ), dark fic, fem!alien!reader, reader’s dad is definitely an intergalactic criminal, noncon, interrogation, size kink, age gap, mild threats against reader, guy plays bad cop ( and starts to like it ), degradation, humiliation, choking, oral sex ( m!receiving ), fear kink, daddy kink, all characters featured are 18+ 

𝗶𝗺𝗽𝗼𝗿𝘁𝗮𝗻𝘁 ∣ requested by anonymous. do not repost or translate. please reblog && leave feedback. not proofread so there’s probably mistakes. thanks for reading <3

what was he doing here? 

the Green Lantern Corps wasn’t supposed to be allowed on this planet; that was exactly why your father sent you here. 

and yet, here he was. he wasn’t in uniform, and before you’d bolted, you hadn’t seen the ring gleaming on his finger, so you assumed he was here without the guardians or his fellow corps members knowing, but that only made it worse for you. he’d been scanning the crowded bar room, and when you’d made the mistake of locking eyes, he recognized you instantly. 

luckily, you were faster than him at first, and the patrons assisted in obstructing him long enough for you to duck out of the back and into the alleyway. 

but you had no idea Guy Gardner of the Lantern Corps could lay down a circle of armed men in a matter of seconds without his power ring, and before you could call for help, his massive frame busted through the back door and he snatched you up. 

you screamed and fought, flinging your body back against his, but only to find that he was completely solid and unyielding. “Easy, sweetheart!” he barked, grasping your hand as it comes up, blindly, a glowing blade in your hand. his vice tightens around your wrist, and you yelp, before he twists your arm up and pins it to your lower back. “Now, that is a big knife for a little thing like you. Daddy buy that for ya?” he’d dug his chin against your shoulder, walking you, kicking and screaming, closer to the wall on the opposite side of the alleyway. his free hand grasps the handle and wrenches it from your fist with what little resistance you could muster. “Ya gonna cut me up with that? Huh?” 

“You can’t be here!” you hissed, shoving your shoulders back to try and jab him in the chest. you were met with only solid muscle. “This planet is out of your jurisdiction!” 

“Why do you think I ditched the uniform, honey?” Guy crooned, throwing the weapon to the ground. it clatters, the glow dimming, and his hand grabs at the collar around your neck. you knew he must be feeling the inscription, and even without his ring to translate, he must know what it says.

“If you don’t let go of me I swear I’ll—” 

 “I don’t think you wanna go and do that. I know where I’m at. Do you? Daddy dearest sent his little princess to a planet fulla’ the nastiest criminals this side of the universe with a dinner bell ‘round her neck.” 

you scoff, “They wouldn’t dare!” 

“Wouldn’t they?” Guy mutters in your ear, instilling the inkling of doubt in your mind, “You think any of these space thugs would think twice about bending you over this dumpster? If you’re really that confident, go ahead and call for them. Let’s see what they’d do if they saw you all tangled up and helpless. My money’s on nothin’ good.” 

your eyes widen. you hate that he might be right. but you say nothing, pursing your lips into a loathsome pout. 

“Don’t sull up on me,” he growls, his hand careening up from the collar to grasp your face, digging his thumb and forefinger into your cheeks. the pressure pushes your lips out further. “You should be thanking me. Because I got to you before any of these monsters caught you alone.” 

“What do you want?” you snap, trying to shake your head to force his hand from your face. his grip only tightened. “You can’t arrest me. Not here.” 

“I just came here to ask you some questions, sweetheart. You can be a good girl and answer them truthfully,” Guy pauses, pressing your torso against the brick wall, but he guides your head back to rest against his clavicle so you’re looking up at him. “…or your night can get a lot harder.” 

you already knew what the question would be before he said it. 

“Where’s daddy hiding?” 

your eyes narrow, and you glare up at him, but make no attempt to answer. 

Guy tilts his head. “Nothing? Not a peep?” the ghost of a smirk dances across his lips, “I was hoping you’d pick the hard way.” 

knots tied in your belly and you bite down hard on your lip. you want to ask him what he’s going to do to you, but you don’t have the time before he’s pressing his weight against you, pinning you to the wall so he can reach the gem embedded in your temple. 

“Why don’t we just give him a call?” 

he’s rough when he presses into it, and you cry out, your eyes lighting up along with the jewel itself. if the communication connecting hadn't always stunned you, you would’ve reached up and clawed at his wrist. “S—stop!” 

your name echoes around you, your father’s voice, asking what was going on. after all, you rarely called him this way. it hurt too much. 

Guy chuckles, and taps it a couple of times, as if he were knocking on a door, and you whimper each time, mouth hanging open and illuminated eyes turned up towards the dark atmosphere. “So this little trick does work. And here I thought Hal was just pullin’ my leg. Z, buddy, it’s been a while. Remember me?” 

“…. Green Lantern Guy Gardner.” 

“Bingo! And I got your little Princess here with me. Go ‘head, sweetheart, say hi to daddy.” 

you shudder when he nudges your ear with his lips, hissing low in your ear, but you mumble slowly. “He… won’t let me go…” 

your dad sounded completely nonchalant, if not annoyed. “You’re safe. He can’t arrest you there, remember?”  

“So y’all keep sayin’.” Guy scoffs, and one arm slinks around your midriff. “But I haven’t tried to drag her to a sciencell. It’s you I’m after, Z.” 

a sigh echoed around the two of you. 

“D—daddy…“ you wanted to beg him for his help. however, Guy was right there. 

“Hear that, pal? That’s your daughter calling for you. If ya just show your ugly mug, I’ll let her go nice and easy.” 

“What will you do with her if I don’t comply with these terms?” 

blinking, you stare, incredulous. you couldn’t believe what you were hearing. would he really not come to save you? “Daddy—” 

“Sh, baby girl, the grown ups are talking.” Guy crooned, clapping a hand over your mouth and squeezing it tight. “You’re one evil bastard for even considerin’ not coming to get her, Z. If you don’t make your grand appearance, well hell, I might just have to be her new daddy.” Guy plants a fleeting kiss on your cheek since he’s leaned in close enough to whisper to the jewel. “Me and her are gonna have some fun.” 

there’s a moment’s silence— one that you can’t even believe happens. why isn’t your father screaming? why isn’t he throwing out threats and demanding you be released this instant? 

“Make your choice, Z. Ya gonna let the little thing become my new sex doll or are ya gonna turn yourself in?” there’s an edge to his voice, as if the silence is also frustrating him. he must’ve been expecting the same thing you were; maybe he didn’t really like the idea of using you as a hostage, either. 

more silence. 

you whined from behind Guy’s palm, tasting the saline sweat and the roughness of the healing callouses against his fingers. 

“Princess, you know I love you,” your dad started and your heart sank. with wide eyes you screamed into Gardner’s hand, “but sometimes, we all must make sacrifices…” 

Guy scoffed in disbelief, taking a subtle step back, “You gotta be shittin’ me,” he murmured more to himself, and spun you around so your back was against the bricks. then, the hand that was previously keeping you quiet slid down to grasp at your throat. with a pathetic croak, you reach up to dig your nails into his hand from either side. “Hey, Z. I’m about to shove my cock in your little girl’s throat so I’m gonna have to cut this call short, aight buddy? I just want you to hear one thing.” 

“Green Lantern…” your father sounded impatient, as if he was desperate to get off the line before he could feel even an ounce of humiliation, but Guy ignores it. he leans in close to you again, breathing hot air against your lips as his grip tightens. 

“Who’s your daddy now, sweetheart?” 

you didn’t want to answer him. you gurgle for air, eyes big and glaring up at him, but when you realize he won’t ease up until he gets the answer he’s looking for, you mutter, begrudgingly, “Y—you are—“ 

“What’s that? I didn’t hear you.” Guy gives you a little shake by your throat, his thumb pressing hard against your windpipe and his olive eyes lock on to yours. “Who’s your daddy now?” 

there’s a twinkle in his gaze when you whimper, your own flooding with fearsome subservience, and you croak out, “Y—you’re my daddy!” 

did he like how scared you were?

“Damn straight.” 

you felt the connection to your father cut, as if he’d finally had enough, and your eyes dimmed, before finally returning to their normal hue. he hadn’t wanted to hear anymore, obviously. 

Guy uses the grip on your throat to drag you down the side of the brick wall until you’re slamming your knees against the rocky ground and wincing, staring up at him. “He— he’s going to show up,” you attempt to assure him, but he’s already reaching with one hand to unbuckle his belt. “He’s coming to save me, and if you do anything to hurt me, he’ll—“ 

“He’s not comin’, Princess.” he growls, cutting you off. he grips your face and tilts it up, running a rough thumb pad over your trembling lower lip. “You not hear him? He’s givin’ you to me so he don’t rot in a sciencell. I was even gonna let you go before, but now…” Guy trails off, dragging his thumb over your lip before pushing it into your mouth. you whimper, your tongue pushing back, and you try to shake your head, but he hooks it against the inside of your cheek, pushing your head back against the wall. “You had to go and look so cute when you were callin’ me daddy.” 

“P—please…” you slur around his finger. “Please… just let me go… I won’t tell—“ 

“Shh,” Guy replaces his thumb with his first, two fingers, prodding deep to the back of your throat until you gag, helplessly blinking at tears welling in your eyes. “Daddy’s thinking.” his fingers pump in and out of your open mouth, forcing you to cluck and gargle, costing them in spit, as he watches. “Daddy’s thinking about how he’s gonna fit his big, thick cock in this pretty, little mouth of yours.” Guy’s free hand flees to his belt, unbuckling it skillful and quick, before focusing on his zipper. “Hell, I bet you’ve never had to suck cock a day in your spoiled life. You’d choke the whole time. You’re gonna need some serious training before I can play with you the way I really want to.” 

Guy worms his leather boot in between your knees, pushing it flush against the crotch of your panties underneath your skirt so you’re sitting on his foot, and you mewl, squinting. you didn’t want to be, but the light rubbing of coarse leather against the thin lingerie had you dampening them in no time. 

“You want daddy to be nice to you this time? Take it easy?” 

there’s no way to escape him, and even if you tried, you knew he’d just catch you again. besides, you feared what the alternative to his niceties could be. so you nod, allowing your eyelashes, stuck together with tears, to flutter. 

Guy groans, staring down at you, and pushes his fingers as deep as he could, dipping the tips into the back of your throat, staring down at you. you were drooling and crying, helpless. and he was so powerful, in complete control. “Ask me, real sweet.” 

“P—pleas—“ it was difficult, to say the least, to sound out each word around his fingers, and simultaneously keep from gagging on them. “Please be nice— to me— daddy—!” you could feel saliva leaking out around his knuckles, dribbling down your chin, and you were humiliated. you’d never felt so dirty in your life. 

Guy shimmies his jeans and underwear to his ankles, grabbing his monstrous cock at it’s girthy base to show you just how big he was. even his herculean fist, that he could wrap all the way around your neck, looked to be normal as he held on to the massive tool. he saw your eyes widen, gluing themselves to his cock, and he whistles. “I know, baby girl, it’s big, ain’t it?” pulling his other hand from your mouth, he slathers the already strong erection in the spit you’ve coated his hand in, before rubbing the length across your face. sputtering for air, you try to shy away from it, but Guy takes your hair at the roots and holds you in place, so he can smack the angry, red tip against your cheek, hard enough to leave you wincing and whimpering for him to stop. “I wanna see you struggle to suck me,” he murmurs, tugging your hair, “I bet even just the tip is bigger than you can comfortably handle. Open wide.” 

you shook your head, trying to seal your lips together tight, but the power behind his pushing as he prods your reluctant mouth finally forces you to comply. you reach up, about to press against his thighs when the thick head stretches your mouth open and slips inside, but he takes both of them at the wrist and tucks them behind your back. “Don’t need these.” he snorts, gruffly, “Keep ‘em outta my way. If that’s all you can take, then you better start suckin’.” 

you garbled your way through an incoherent thought, your hands balling into fists but you kept them behind your back, as obedient as you could be. at least he wasn’t trying to shove the whole thing in your mouth; the more your eyes tried to stare at the several inches protruding from your face, the dizzier you felt. the head was inside, just barely, and your lips were already stretched into a tight O, your tongue pinned to the floor of your mouth, and his thickness threatened to bulge your cheeks. trying your best to clamp your tiers into as tight a seal as you could, you suck in your cheeks and slurp. it’s beyond embarrassing, the sloppy sounds you made trying to suck Guy’s cock. you whined and mewled and squinted, bobbing your head to simply appease the beast of a man before you. 

“Uhhuh,” he grunted, releasing your hair. one hand splayed against the wall to support himself, and he dipped his chin into his bolstered, rising chest to watch you, “that’s it, sweetheart. Keep doing it, just like that.” 

you were staring up at his pleasured face, and you hoped he could feel every ounce of hate for the way his cock fit in your mouth you poured into your gaze, but you had a feeling he didn’t care. your brows knit together, and you moaned when he ground the toe of his shoe into your panties. 

“That hot, little mouth sure is somethin’, you’re gonna fuck around and make me cum,” he hummed between ragged breaths, “I can’t wait to see how the rest of your holes feel stretched around me.” 

Guy’s hips were twitching, but thankfully he didn’t use them to rock against your face and try to stuff you beyond your limit, but he did allow his hand to rest on the top of your head, keeping it in place while you sucked. “Use your tongue, little girl.” he hisses, closing his eyes, “Show me how bad you wanna swallow my load.” 

you didn’t, that was the problem. 

the last thing you wanted was for him to cum in your mouth; you didn’t want to taste the desire he held for forcing himself on you, but you couldn’t fight back. so, with all the strength you could muster, you push the tip of your tongue to tickle the sensitive underside of the twitching tip, until he howls in pure, sordid delight and comes undone. 

regardless of whether or not you wanted it, he shot spurt after hot spurt directly into your mouth. you gagged when the warmth drizzled down into your throat, but it was clear when he murmured, “Swallow it.” that he wouldn’t be pulling out until you did. 

obedient, albeit disgusted, you swallow, blinking fresh tears away, and your nails digging miniature crescents into your palms. “Nnn… Nnn…” 

“There’s daddy’s good whore.” he purrs, catching his breath, and finally, pulls himself free of your mouth. there’s a flood of spit and cum that didn’t make it down your throat that oozes over your lips once he’s pried himself out, and you pant, sitting back on your butt against the rough ground. coughing, you consider forcing yourself to throw up, just so his damned warmth is out of your system. however, the strong hand that grabs your face and forces it up towards him again stops you. you find Guy squatting down to be as close to eye level as he could get with you. “As long as you play by the rules, I promise you’re gonna learn to like daddy’s games.” 

[wifelinkmtg]

TUMBLR POST EDITOR WON'T LET ME TITLE THIS POST ANYMORE SO I GUESS THIS IS THE TITLE NOW. WEBBED SITE INNIT

So let's say you grew up in the nineties and that The Lion King was an important movie to you. Let's say that the character of Scar - snarling, ambitious, condescending, effeminate Scar - stirred feelings in you which you had no words for as a child. And then let's say, many years later, you're talking about it with a college friend, and you say something like, "oh man, I think Scar was some sort of gay awakening for me," and she fixes you with this level stare and says, "Scar was a fascist. What's the matter with you?"

The immediate feeling is not unlike missing a step: hang on, what's happening, what did I miss? You knew there were goose-stepping hyenas in "Be Prepared," but you didn't think it mattered that much. He's the bad guy, after all, and the movie's just pointing it out. Your friend says it's more than that: the visuals of the song are directly referencing the Nuremberg rallies. They're practically an homage to Riefenstahl. This was your sexual awakening? Is this why you're so into peaked caps and leather, then? Subliminal nazi kink, perhaps?

And then one of your other friends cuts in. "Hold up," he says, "let's think about what Scar actually did in the movie. He organized a group of racialized outcasts and led them against a predatory monarchy. Why are you so keen to defend their hereditary rule? Scar's the good guy here." The conversation immediately descends into a verbal slap fight about who the real bad guy is, whether Scar's regime was actually responsible for the ecological devastation of the Pride Lands, whether the hyenas actually count as "racialized" because James Earl Jones voiced Mufasa after all. Your Catholic friend starts saying some strange and frankly concerning shit about Natural Law. Someone brings The Lion King 2 into it. You leave the conversation feeling a little bit lost and a little bit anxious. What were we even talking about?

INTRODUCING: THE DITCH

There is a way of reading texts which I'm afraid is pervasive, which has as its most classical expression the smug obsession with trivia and minutiae you find in a certain vein of comic book fan. "Who was the first Green Lantern? What was his weakness? Do you even know the Green Lantern Oath?" It eschews the subjective in favor of definitively knowable fact. You can't argue with this guy that, say, Alan Scott shouldn't really count as the first Green Lantern because his whole deal is so radically different from the Hal Jordan/John Stewart/Guy Gardner Corps-era Lanterns, because this guy will simply say "but he's called Green Lantern. Says so right on the cover. Checkmate." This approach to reading a text is fundamentally 1) emotionally detached (there's a reason the joke goes, oh you like X band? name three of their songs - and not, which of their songs means the most to you? which of them came into your life at exactly the right moment to tell you exactly what you needed to hear just then?) and 2) defensive. It's a stance that is designed not to lose arguments. It says so right on the cover. Checkmate.

And then you get the guys who are like "well obviously Bruce Wayne could do far more as a billionaire to solve societal problems by using his tremendous wealth to address systemic issues instead of dressing up as a bat and punching mental patients in the head," and these guys have half a point but they're basically in the same ditch butting heads with the "well, actually" guys, and can we not simply extricate ourselves from the ditch entirely?

So, okay, let's return to our initial example. Scar is portrayed using Nazi iconography - the goose-stepping, the monumentality, the Nuremberg Lichtdom. He is also flamboyant and effete. He unifies and leads a group of downtrodden exiles to overthrow an absolute monarch. He's also a self-serving despot on whose rule Heaven Itself turns its back. You can't reconcile these things from within the ditch - or if you can, the attempt is likely to be ad-hoc supposition and duct tape.

Instead, let's ask ourselves what perspective The Lion King is coming from. What does it say is true about the world? What are its precepts, its axioms?

There is a natural hierarchical order to the world. This is just and righteous and the way of things, and attempts to overthrow this order will be punished severely by the world itself.

Fascism is what happens when evil men attempt to usurp this natural order with the aid of a group or groups of people who refuse to accept their place in the order.

There exists an alternative to defending and adhering to one's place in the natural order - it consists only of selfish spineless apathy.

Manliness is an essential quality of a just ruler. Unmanliness renders a person unfit for rule, and often resentful and dangerous as well.

And isn't that interesting, laid out like that? It renders the entire argument about the movie irrelevant (except for whatever your Catholic friend was on about, since his understanding of the world seems to line up with the above precepts weirdly well.) It's meaningless to argue about whether Scar was a secret hero or a fascist, when the movie doesn't understand fascism and has a damn-near alien view of what good and evil are.

There's always gonna be someone who, having read this far, wants to reply, "so, what? The Lion King is a bad movie and the people who made it were homophobes and also American monarchists, somehow? And anyone who likes it is also some sort of gay-bashing crypto-authoritarian?" To which I have to reply, man, c'mon, get out of the ditch. You're no good to anyone in there. Take my hand. I'm going to pull on three. One... two...

SO PHYREXIA [PAUSE FOR APPLAUSE, GROANS]

We're talking about everyone's favorite ichor-drooling surgery monsters again because there was a bit in my ~*~seminal~*~ essay Transformation, Horror, Eros, Phyrexia which seemed to give a number of readers quite a bit of trouble: namely, the idea that while Phyrexia is textually fascist, their aesthetic is incompatible with real-world fascism, and further, that this aesthetic incompatibility in some way outweighs the ways in which they act like a fascist nation in terms of how we think of them. I'll take responsibility here: I don't think that point is at all clear or well-argued in that essay. What I was trying to articulate was that the text of Magic: the Gathering very much wants Phyrexia to be supremely evil and dangerous fascists, because that makes for effective antagonists, but in the process of constructing that, it's accidentally encoded a whole bunch of fascinating presuppositions that end up working at cross-purposes with its apparent aim. That's... not that much clearer, is it? Hmm. Why don't I just show you what I mean?

Atraxa, Grand Unifier (art by Marta Nael)

In "Beneath Eyes Unblinking," one of the March of the Machine stories by K. Arsenault Rivera, there's a fascinating and I think revealing passage in which Atraxa (big-deal Phyrexianized angel and Elesh Norn's lieutenant) has a run-in with an art museum in New Capenna. The first thing I want to talk about is that, in this passage, Atraxa has no understanding of the concept of "beauty". A great deal of space in such a rushed storyline is devoted to her trying to puzzle out what beauty means and interrogating the minds of her recently-compleated Capennan aesthetes to try and understand it. In the end, she is unable to conceive of beauty except as "wrongness," as anathema.

So my first question is, why doesn't Atraxa have any idea of beauty? This is nonsense, right? We could point to a previous story, "A Garden of Flesh," by Lora Gray, in which Elesh Norn explicitly thinks in terms of beauty, but that's a little bit ditchbound, isn't it? The better argument is to simply look at Phyrexian bodies, at the Phyrexian landscape, all of which looks the way it does on purpose, all of which has been shaped in accordance with the very real aesthetic preferences of Phyrexians. How you could look at the Fair Basilica and not understand that Phyrexians most definitely have an idea of beauty, even if you personally disagree with it, is baffling. This is a lot like the canonical assertion that Phyrexians lack souls, which is both contradicted elsewhere in canon and essentially meaningless, given Magic's unwillingness or inability to articulate what a soul is in its setting, and as with this, it seems the goal is simply to dehumanize Phyrexians, to render them alien, even at the cost of incoherence or internal contradiction.

Atraxa's progress through the museum is fascinating. It evokes the 1937 Nazi exhibit on "degenerate art" in Munich, but not at all cleanly. The first exhibit, which is of representational art, she angrily destroys for being too individualistic (a point of dissonance with the European fascist movements of the 20th century, which formed in direct antagonism to communism.) The second exhibit, filled with abstract paintings and sculptures, she destroys even more angrily for having no conceivable use (this is much more in line with the Nazi idea of "degenerate art", so well done there.) The third exhibit is filled with war trophies and reconstructions from a failed Phyrexian invasion of Capenna many years prior, which she is angriest of all with (and fair enough, I suppose.) But then, after she's done completely trashing the place, she spots a number of angel statues on the cathedral across the plaza, and she goes apeshit. In a fugue of white-hot rage, she pulverizes the angel heads, and here is where I have to ask my second question:

Why angels? If you are trying to invoke fascist attitudes toward art, big statues of angels are precisely the wrong thing for your fascist analogues to hate. Fascists love monumental, heroic representations of superhuman perfection. It's practically their whole aesthetic deal. I understand that we're foreshadowing the imminent defeat of Phyrexia at the hands of legions of angels and a multiversal proliferation of angel juice, but that just leads to the exact same question: why angels? To the best of my knowledge, the Phyrexian weakness to New Capennan angel juice is something invented for this storyline. They have, after all, been happily compleating angels since 1997. We could talk about the in-universe justification for why Halo specifically is so potent, but I don't remember what that justification is, and also don't care. Let's not jump back in the ditch, please. The point is, someone decided that this time, Phyrexia would be defeated by an angelic host, and what does that mean? What is the text trying to say? What are its precepts and axioms?

Let me ask you a question: how many physically disabled angels are there in Magic: the Gathering? How about transsexual angels? How many angels are there, on all of the cards that have ever been printed for Magic: the Gathering, that are even just a bit ugly? Do you get it yet? Or do you need me to spell it out for you?

SPELLING IT OUT FOR YOU

There is a kind of body which is bad. It is bad because it has been significantly altered from its natural state, and it is bad because it is repellent to our aesthetic sensibilities.

The bad kind of body is contagious. It spreads through contact. Sometimes people we love are infected, and then they become the bad kind of body too.

There is a kind of body which is good. It is good because it is pleasing to our aesthetic sensibilities, and it is good because it is unaltered from its (super)natural state.

A happy ending is when all the good bodies destroy or drive into hiding all of the bad bodies. A happy ending is when the bad bodies of the people we love are forcibly returned to being the good kind of body.

Do you get it now?

ENDNOTES

It's worth noting that the ditch is very similar to the white American Evangelical hermeneutics of "the Bible says it. I believe it. That settles it," the defensive chapter-and-verse-or-it-didn't-happen approach to reading a text, what Fred Clark of slacktivist calls "concordance-ism". I don't think that's accidental. We stand underneath centuries of people reading the Bible very poorly - how could that not affect how we read things today? We are participants in history whether we like it or not.

I sincerely hope I haven't come across as condescending in this essay. Close reading is legitimately difficult! They teach college courses on this stuff! And while it is frustrating to have my close readings interrogated by people who... aren't doing that, like. I do get it. I find myself back in the ditch all the time. This stuff is hard. It is also, sorry, crucial if you intend to say something about a text that's worth saying.

I also hope I've communicated clearly here. Magic story is sufficiently incoherent that trying to develop a thesis about it often feels like trying to nail jello to the wall. If anyone has questions, please ask them! And thank you for reading. Next time, we'll probably do the new Eldraine set.

[kamaluhkhan]

hi there! i have a request for loser!luke where reader shows him where to put his hands on her and he's really eager to learn x

i completely understand if you don't write this since i'm sure there are many more requests, also could i be anon please!!

pairing: luke castellan x aphrodite!reader (afab) a/n: sorry this took forever but please enjoy !!  also - this request came in before i started participating in fics for gaza; please click here to find out more about this initiative and how to participate/contribute word count: 795

MDNI !

“ugh, i told drew to clean up her shit,” you scoff, tossing away your half-sister’s used makeup wipes. “looks like the athena cabin is winning this time. 8.5/10?” 

you look at luke for his input, but it’s no use. all luke has been good for this afternoon is whining, instead of helping you with this round of cabin inspections. 

“katie loves roses.” luke stops to smell the bouquet that one of your siblings had next to their bunk. 

“everyone loves roses,” you reply as you scribble down a score on your clipboard. 

“but roses were her favorite.” luke pouts. he drops down onto your perfectly made bed, rumpling the sheets underneath him. “i hear what everyone is saying around camp, you know: about how katie gardener realized she was too good for me so she finally dumped me.” 

you bite back a wince. you might have contributed to the gossip surrounding their breakup.

you sigh and take a seat next to luke, deciding it’s time to try and make him feel better. 

“okay, castellan — enough moping. tell me what happened.”

“no.”

“luke. stop being a baby, i’m here to help.”

“it’s embarrassing.”

“well, you’re kinda embarrassing yourself already, with the whole love sick puppy act,” you point out, poking his thigh. luke swats your hand away. 

“it’s really embarrassing, though.”

“oh, please; i’ve heard it all. you’d be surprised how many people confess to the head counselor of the aphrodite cabin; i mean, i am my mother’s favorite, but still —”

“katie broke up with me because i couldn’t get her off,” luke suddenly blurts. 

there’s a moment of silence, and then you can’t help it — you burst out laughing. 

“hey!” luke exclaims. “you said you were here to help. i knew it was embarrassing!” 

“sorry, sorry.” you swallow your smile. “it’s just — did you not realize that she was faking it?” 

“obviously not!” luke groans, his cheeks a vibrant red. “she was very convincing.”

you almost admire katie — knowing that she’s worth more than a guy she has to fake orgasms for — but you remind yourself that you’re here to comfort luke. 

luke falls back onto the bed, hands covering his face. 

“i wouldn’t be too hard on yourself — it’s actually really common for women to fake orgasms. mostly because men have no idea what to do.”

“because sex is impossible,” luke groans.

“it’s not, actually. think of it this way — how’d you get to be the best swordsman at camp?”

“...through training and lots of practice.”

you nod once. “exactly. sex is the same: you need to learn what your partner wants and what makes them feel good.”

“then i’ll be the best?”

you roll your eyes. “then you’ll be the best, and katie gardner will be sorry that she ever dumped you.” 

luke doesn’t say anything, so you figure it’s time to get back to your senior counselor duties. you collect your clipboard and start getting up.

“wait.” luke grabs your wrist before you can move any further. “would you be open to….training with me?”

you hesitate, but you can’t deny that you’re intrigued by the offer. “look, castellan, you’re fragile now from the breakup and clearly not in your right mind —”

“i want to learn,” luke insists. 

and that’s how you find yourself, legs spread wide with your back pressed against luke’s bare chest. you suck on two of his fingers as you guide his other hand to your breast, prompting him to pinch your nipple. 

his chin is hooked over your shoulder, watching intently as you now bring his spit-soaked fingers down and plunge them into your pussy.

“this is a good start,” you praise. your own fingers scrape through his curls as you encourage him to go faster, harder. “now, if you really wanna make someone cum....”

you move his thumb to your clit.

“like this?” luke asks, his voice low. you throw your head back in pleasure when he presses down and starts rubbing in tight circles. luke becomes more confident after that. he curls his fingers inside you, and brushes the spot that always makes you unravel. 

per your instructions, luke keeps plunging his fingers into you as you ride out your high. once you come down, he pulls out and sucks off your juices off.

“tastes real,” he hums; you nudge his side. “what! am i wrong?”

you shake your head, and luke responds with a triumphant grin. 

“i’d say that was a good first lesson.”

“you’re already my star student,” you praise. you turn around so you can straddle him properly, kiss him and lick up any remnants of you on his lips. he moans underneath you when you rub yourself on his hardened length. “but, you still have a lot to learn.”

[slu7formen]

MDNI. luke x drunk!reader

luke decides to take care of you when he notices how drunk you are a party, you didn’t know how much you needed him until he showed you so.

warnings: drunk!reader, protective!luke, lil violence, use of yn, allusion to s3x

reminder: english’s not my first language so I apologize for any spelling mistakes

₊˚⊹♡

The melody from a stolen radio emerged through the humid night air, barely audible over the loud laughter and shouted conversations of the older campers reunited in the woods. The stars offered little illumination, replaced by the flickering glow of a bonfire fueled by firewood. The air was heavy and hot, filled with the scent of chips, spilled beer, and teenage rebellion. This was a rare ocasion for the senior campers, a chance to forget about monstrous threats and drakon training for a night.

Luke nestled in the shadows of a nearby oak tree, holding a way too warm can of beer to drink now, and listened to his friends, trade their usual brand of mischievous gossip. A comfortable camaraderie settled over him, a welcome respite from the weight of responsibility that pressed down on him as a counselor.

"Did you see Lucy practically drooling over Malcolm after Ally dumped him?" Travis snickered, nudging Connor with his elbow.

Connor snorted, barely containing his laughter. "Ouch, sister drama. Ally must be thinking about drowning her in cheap perfume"

Luke chuckled, shaking his head. The Aphrodite cabin drama was always entertaining, even if a little predictable. He glanced around the clearing, his gaze sweeping over the other campers. A group of Ares cabin warriors were engaged in a play-fight, throwing each other to the ground as they groaned and laughed. He spotted Katie Gardner, daughter of Demeter, tending to a small patch of wildflowers. Even at a forbidden party, Katie couldn't resist nurturing something green.

"Hey, Luke" Chris nudged him, his eyes twinkling with mischief. "You gonna tell us your big secret yet? We all know there's something going on between you and yn"

Luke's smile faltered slightly. "There's nothing to tell" he replied noncommittally, taking a swig of his warm beer, the taste bitter in his tongue. “We’re just friends”

"Oh, come on" Connor pressed, a sly smirk spreading across his face. "We see the way you look at her. Like she's the only girl alive."

Luke rolled his eyes, but a blush crept up his neck under the teasing of his friends. Suddenly, a melodic laugh cut through the din, a sound that sent a jolt through him. It was your laugh, bright and carefree, a stark contrast to the usual reserved demeanor you displayed around camp. He followed the sound, his gaze landing on you amidst a group of campers near the edge of the clearing. But it wasn't your presence that triggered a tightening in his chest. It was the hulking figure of Ares cabin resident, Mark, who stood far too close to you, his arm draped around your shoulder as he leaned in to whisper something that caused another burst of laughter from you.

A sting of jealousy pierced Luke´s insides. He knew it was silly. He and you were nothing more than friends. But still, that doesn’t mean he’s gonna like it when he sees you with some other guy. He watched as you swayed slightly, the red plastic cup clutched loosely in your hand a clear indication of your intoxicated state. Your usually sharp eyes held a glazed look, a vulnerability that made his protective instincts flare.

He saw you and Mark detach from the group, heading deeper into the shadowy woods. There was a part of him that urged him to let you be, to let you enjoy your night. But another, more primal part couldn't shake the image of you, intoxicated and unaware, disappearing into the woods with someone like Mark.

Sighing, Luke pushed himself off the tree trunk. “I´ll be back in a minute” he says to his friends, leaving his can on Travis´ hand. He weaved through the tight and large group of campers, his purpose hardening with each step. You stumbled on a protruding root, giggling at your own clumsiness. Mark steadied you, his hand lingering on your waist in a way that made Luke’s right eye twitch.

"Hey, yn" Luke's voice cut through the air, catching your attention. You turned, your face splitting into a wide, drunken smile.

"Luuuke!" you slurred, swaying towards him with open arms, nearly knocking him over with the force of your hug. Ignoring the glare Mark shot his way, Luke enveloped you in a hug, his nose crinkling at the distinct scent of fruit punch and something a little stronger.

"Whoa there" he chuckled as you wrapped your arms around his neck. He could smell the sugary sweetness of your lip gloss. "Easy, tiger."

You giggled, your head lolling against his shoulder. You mumbled something nonsensical, giggling at a private joke only you seemed to understand. Your mascara, usually neatly applied, had smudged slightly at the corners of your eyes. Despite the obvious effects of the alcohol, you were undeniably beautiful, the firelight casting warm shadows on your face. "M'so happpy you´re here! Dance with me!" you yelled as you lift your arms, your voice thick with intoxication. Luke felt a pang of worry. You were far too drunk to be alone in the woods with a boy you barely knew.

"Seems like you've had a few too many tonight, huh?"

"Just having a little fun, Luke" you pouted, the way you said his name sounded funny. "Don't be a all couns-, counselor"

He glanced over your shoulder towards Mark, whose jaw was clenched tight. "Yeah, well, maybe a little too much fun" Luke countered, his voice gaining a hint of firmness, but as softly as possible. "Maybe it's time for you to head back to your cabin, yeah?”

"But Mark was showing me…" you began, but were cut off by Mark's snide voice.

"Mind your own business, Castellan" He growled. Luke narrowed his eyes at the Ares camper, a dangerous glint flickering within them. “This doesn´t concern you”

"She's clearly not in control of herself" Luke retorted, his voice low and cold. "Someone needs to make sure she gets back safely. And it won't be you."

Mark scoffed, a humorless sound. "Says who? Why don't you worry about yourself, Castellan?"

The barb hit a nerve. Luke wasn't drunk, but the implication stung. He wasn't about to get into a debate about his tolerance with this ridiculously big guy.

"Look," Luke said tightly, trying to keep his voice calm, "I'm not trying to cause any trouble. I just—"

"Just what?" Mark interrupted, stepping forward, his chest puffing out in a show of dominance. "Going to swoop in and save the damsel in distress? You think she needs rescuing?"

He shot a pointed look at you, who seemed to be lost in your own world, giggling at some private joke as you covered your mouth. The sight of it only fueled Luke's simmering anger.

"Whether she needs help or not isn't the point" Luke growled, his voice strained. "The point is, she's clearly intoxicated and shouldn't be alone with someone she barely knows."

"Barely knows?" Mark echoed, a sneer twisting his lips. "We were just getting to know each other, weren't we, yn?"

He turned to you, his voice dripping with false sweetness. You blinked at him owlishly, then shrugged, a nonsensical answer escaping your lips.

The sight of it was too much for Luke. His fists clenched at his sides. He knew Mark was deliberately trying to get a rise out of him, but it was working. The implication that his concern was fueled by jealousy rather than genuine care was infuriating.

“Now if you excuse us…” Mark pointed out, pulling you to him by your hip as he tried to walk away with you.

But Luke´s had enough. That was the last straw. In a blur of motion, Luke lashed out. He lunged forward, his fist connecting with Mark's nose with a satisfying crunch. Mark stumbled back, roaring in pain, a hand flying up to his now-bleeding nose.

You, however, seemed oblivious to the sudden violence. You blinked at the scene in confusion, your brow creased in a frown as you looked at Mark. "What the-…" your words slurred, lost in the midst of your intoxication.

But before you could form a complete sentence, a wave of fury washed over you. You turned around, shoving Luke hard in the chest, sending him stumbling back a step. "What the fuck, Luke!" you shrieked, your voice laced with a venom that startled him. "Why do you always have to be all over me!?"

The words hit Luke like a physical blow. He wasn't angry at you, not truly. You were clearly out of it, the world a dizzy sight because of whatever it is that you drank. But the accusation stung. Here he was, trying to protect you from a situation you couldn't navigate in your current state, and you saw it as him controlling you.

"yn," he started again, trying to choose his words carefully. "I just-"

"Just what?" you shot back, your voice thick with slurred defiance. "Just what gives you the right to decide what I do?"

Tears welled up in your eyes, threatening to spill over. Luke's heart ached. You were upset, confused, and vulnerable – a dangerous combination amplified by the alcohol coursing through your veins.

You crossed your arms over your chest as you sniffed, walking past him fast, head down and all pouty. “You ruined everything” you mumbled, more to yourself than directly to him, but he still heard. Luke watched you go, a wave of despair washing over him. He'd messed up.

He glanced back at Mark, who was clutching his nose and glaring at him with a mixture of fury and grudging respect. "Look, man" Luke sighed, the fight momentarily draining out of him. "That was a cheap shot, I´m sorry"

Mark grunted, wiping blood from his face with the back of his hand. "Yeah, well, you got a nice fist, I must say."

There was a hint of grudging respect in his voice, perhaps because he couldn't deny that Luke's concern for you seemed genuine, or because if he recieved another punch, he'd need his nose surgically reattached.

"I wasn´t gonna do much either" he tried to defend himself. “She can´t even walk straight” Mark mumbled, ponting at you, then he turned away and disappeard into the shadows.

Luke glanced back at your retreating figure. He knew he needed to fix things with you, but for now, all he could do was hope you wouldn't hold his overprotective actions against him. He took a deep breath and started following you, determined to apologize and explain his actions once you were sober enough to listen.

Your walk was more of a drunken sashay, hips swaying precariously with each wobbly step. Luke watched you stumble away, a knot of frustration tightening in his gut. He knew you weren't thinking straight, the alcohol muddling your judgment and turning his concern into a controlling act in your eyes.

"yn" he called after you, his voice laced with a pleading he rarely used. "Wait a minute, please."

You ignored him, your focus solely on putting distance between you and Luke. He quickened his pace, catching up beside you.

"Seriously, stop it" Luke's voice was closer now. "You're going to fall on your face if you keep walking like that."

You stopped short, whirling around to face him. “Will you stop following me? This is embarrasing enough, Luke”

"Embarrassing?" Luke echoed, his voice rising in exasperation. "You're practically falling over drunk! You can't just walk around like this."

"I can handle myself" you slurred, puffing out your chest in a show of false bravery. You wobbled slightly, proving his point.

Luke sighed, running a hand through his hair in frustration. "Look…" he said, trying to keep his voice calm. "I'm not trying to be a jerk. I'm just worried about you. You're clearly hammered, and it's not safe for you to be alone."

You scoffed. "Safe? I'm not a little girl, Luke. I can take care of myself."

"Yeah, well, right now you can't even take care of your balance!" he retorted, his patience wearing thin. You wobbled again, nearly toppling over before catching yourself on a nearby tree trunk.

"Just stop following me, okay?" you slurred, your voice thick with a pout. "I don't need this from you"

He sighed as your trembling body swayed precariously, threatening to topple over at any moment. Luke knew arguing with you further would be pointless. You were a force of nature in your current state, fueled by both alcohol and indignation. He needed to take a different approach.

With a resigned sigh, he whipped his denim jacket off in one swift motion. Kneeling before you, he draped it around your waist, the familiar scent of him momentarily grounding you. You blinked at him, a flicker of confusion replacing the anger in your eyes.

"What are you—woah!" you yelped before you could finish your question. In a smooth, practiced motion honed from years of wrestling monstrous opponents, Luke scooped you up effortlessly, hoisting you over his broad shoulder like a sack of potatoes.

A surprised shriek erupted from your lips. The world tilted on its axis as you found yourself dangling upside down. The clearing erupted in laughter. A few of the campers who had been watching the whole scene unfold hooted and hollered, their amusement evident. "Careful with that one, Luke!" one of them called out, a wide grin plastered on his face. "Looks like she bites!"

Luke shot him a withering look, his jaw clenched. "Very funny" he muttered, ignoring the whistles and catcalls from the others. His focus was solely on you, the warmth of your body radiating against his back.

“You better put me down!" you shrieked, kicking your legs in the air in a futile attempt to dislodge yourself.

"Not a chance, Short Stuff" Luke called back.

"But I don't want to go back to my cabin yet! The party's just getting started!" You pounded your fists against his back, a feeble attempt at protest. "Seriously, Luke, put me down! I can walk perfectly fine!"

"Uh-huh, you´re right" he said sarcastically, walking down with your full weight on one shoulder as if you were as light as a feather.

You let out a frustrated groan, burying your face on his back. “This so embarrasing!” you cried. You hated that he was right. You were a mess, and the last thing you needed was to stumble around the woods in this state, potentially attracting unwanted attention.

Despite your annoyance, a strange sense of security settled over you as Luke carried you. The rhythmic thud of his footsteps against the earth and the warmth of his hands radiating against your legs as he held you were oddly comforting.

The walk to your cabin, however, was far from peaceful. You continued to mumble incoherent protests, punctuated by occasional swats at his back and what felt like an eternity of "Put me down!"s. But Luke remained undeterred, his jaw set in a determined line.

Finally, after what felt like an hour —but was probably closer to five minutes—, you reached your cabin. Relief washed over Luke as he gently lowered you onto the porch, careful not to jostle you too much.

You glared at Luke, your arms crossed defiantly across your chest. He couldn’t tell if your eyes were truly filled with anger of constantly trying to focus on his face so your world wouldn’t keep spinning.

"Well, aren't you prince charming himself, Mr. Castellan" you huffed, voice thick with a playful slur. "Kidnapping girls and all"

Luke, however, seemed unfazed. He chuckled, a low, rumbling sound that sent a shiver down your spine despite yourself. "Just get in, sleepyhead" he countered, his eyes gleaming under the moonlight as he opened the unlocked door to your cabin.

You pouted, a childish expression along with the stomping of your feet on the wooden porch. "I could have walked!" you protested weakly, knowing full well it was a lie.

He ignored your protest, stepping past you and gently maneuvering you towards your bed, placing his hand on your lower back as you walked. The cabin was, as expected, empty. Your half-siblings, ever the social butterflies, were undoubtedly wreaking havoc at the party you were now forbidden to attend.

You felt lonely for a second, but it was quickly overshadowed by the warmth that spread through you as Luke helped you onto the bed. You wanted to be furious with him, to unleash the full force of your drunken anger. But the lingering warmth of his touch on your legs and back, the way he so effortlessly hoisted you like a defiant princess, somehow muddled your outrage. The thought was absurd and yet undeniably attractive.

He knelt down in front of you once you sat at the edge of your bed. You could smell the faint scent of woodsmoke and pine needles clinging to his clothes, a comforting aroma that filled your nosestrils instantly.

With a gentle hand, he reached out your calve and started unlacing your boots, his touch surprisingly tender. You watched him in a daze, your head spinning slightly. The world seemed to tilt on its axis again, everything blurring at the edges except for Luke's face. You watched him in fascination as he repeated the process with your other foot.

Suddenly, a wave of nausea washed over you. You squeezed your eyes shut and groaned, a weak sound that escaped your lips.

Luke, sensing your distress, immediately stopped what he was doing. "Hey, are you okay?" he asked, his voice laced with concern as he placed one hand on your knee.

You opened your eyes, blinking slowly. "Yeah, just a little…" you trailed off, searching for the right word. "Woozy" you finally managed.

Then, he stood up and looked around. His gaze landed on a package of makeup wipes on your bedside table. Without a word, he picked them up and returned to stand in front of you.

"You might want to clean some of this off" he said, holding up a wipe and gesturing to the smudged mascara beneath your eye.

You were speechless. No one had ever offered to do something like this for you before. A warmth bloomed in your chest, chasing away the remnants of your anger.

He held the wipe out to you, but you didn't take it. Instead, you found yourself blurting out; "Can you do it for me?"

He didn't hesitate. He fully unfolded the wipe as he lowered to you just a little to continue the process of taking care of you, his touch tender.

He was wiping the makeup from your face with a meticulousness that surprised you. You sat there, mesmerized, feeling strangely vulnerable under his watchful gaze even though you kept your eyes closed. The alcohol, combined with the unexpected intimacy of the moment, had rendered you uncharacteristically quiet.

"You didn't have to punch him, you know" you mumbled, the words tumbling out before you could stop them.

He kept as concentraded in his task as he was before. "Who?" he asked, though you both knew exactly who you were talking about.

"Mark" you clarified.

Luke sighed, going for your other eye. "He was… well, he was clearly taking advantage of your state" he explained patiently.

"How do you know?" you challenged, a sliver of defiance still clinging to your voice.

"Because I know you, yn" he said softly, his gaze locking with yours. "You think I would´ve done what I did if you were sober?"

His words hit you like a wave of realization. Shame washed over you, hot and prickly. You hadn't realized how vulnerable you were, how easily manipulated under the influence of your drink. “There we go” He stopped his movements eyes. “All clean” he announced as he placed the dirty wipes over your bedside table.

"I-, I'm sorry" you mumbled, looking down at your lap, playing with the edges of your miniskirt. "I shouldn't have pushed you like that."

He knelt down again, this time untangling his denim jacket from around your waist. As he spoke, his voice was laced with a quiet understanding. "Listen, I know you might be mad at me for… well, everything. But I wasn't trying to ruin your night. I was just worried about you. You were drunk… you are drunk” he said playfully, reaching out and squeezing your cheek as if you were a little kid. “and that Ares guy –, didn't exactly seem like he wanted to be nice, and I can’t handle that. You can´t go around with people you don´t know, you know better than that" his voice dropped again.

He was right, of course. You were a demigod, trained to be aware of your surroundings and the dangers that lurked in the shadows. Yet, tonight, you'd thrown all caution to the wind, blinded by the effects of vodka and fruit juice and the fleeting attention of a stranger.

A pang of guilt washed over you. You squeezed his hand, a silent apology for your earlier outburst.

He gave your hand a gentle squeeze in return, his lips curving into a small smile. “Besides, we´re friends, right?”

The word felt cold, heavy with unspoken meaning. Friends. You and Luke. The idea was both familiar and exhilarating, a spark igniting somewhere deep within you. You didn´t say anything, but Luke didn´t need you to.

He stood up again and leaned down, surprising you by brushing a light kiss on your forehead. It was a chaste gesture, meant to be comforting, yet it sent a jolt of electricity through you.

"Go get some sleep" he said, his voice a low rumble. "I'll check on you in the morning."

He started to turn away, but before he could take a step, you reached out and grabbed his arm. "Wait" you stammered, your cheeks flushing crimson.

Luke turned back, a questioning eyebrow raised. In that moment, the alcohol-fueled bravado that had propelled you through the night seemed to evaporate. You were left with a newfound shyness, a sudden awareness of the intimate atmosphere that had settled between you.

"Can you..." you began, your voice barely above a whisper, "can you stay a little?"

Luke stared at you for a moment, a flicker of surprise crossing his face. He didn't answer immediately. He stood there for a long moment, studying your face, his expression unreadable. The silence stretched between you, thick with unspoken emotions.

Emboldened by a newfound courage, you stood up from the bed. You were still a little unsteady on your feet, the remnants of alcohol making your movements slightly wobbly.

Reaching out, you stopped in front of him, his height suddenly a towering presence. You closed the gap between you two in a second. Now you were standing impossibly close, your body brushing against his.

Looking up at him, you were struck by how tall he seemed, how broad his shoulders were. A wave of dizziness washed over you as you registered the clean scent of his cologne, one that you hadn’t noticed before, a scent that suddenly seemed incredibly appealing.

"Luke" you whispered, your voice barely a breath, your eyes tracing the outline of his lips. "When did you get so tall?"

He chuckled softly, a low rumble that sent a delicious shiver down your spine. "Maybe you just haven't noticed before" he replied, his voice a husky murmur.

The playful banter momentarily broke the tension, but the air between you still crackled as heavy as it could. Your gaze drifted back to his lips, now so close you could almost feel the warmth of his breath on your skin.

They were full, inviting, and in a moment of drunken bravery, you found yourself leaning closer, your lips hovering just a breath away from his. "You smell good" you mumbled, your voice slurred but filled with a newfound confidence.

Luke swallowed hard, trying to find his voice. He was dangerously close to you, the heat radiating from your body a tangible thing in the cool cabin air. His muscles tensed, a battle raging within him between concern and a growing desire.

You reached out and toched his thigh, your fingers brushing against the worn fabric of his jean. Slowly, teasingly, you trailed your hand upward, until you reached his belt, hooking one finger to it, and you pulled him even closer to you. The movement was subtle but undeniably provocative, sending a jolt of electricity through Luke's body.

He stood frozen, mesmerized by the sudden boldness you exuded. This wasn't the girl he knew, the playful friend who teased him mercilessly. This was a stranger cloaked in the familiar, and the effect was intoxicating.

His own breath came out in a ragged sigh. Every rational part of him screamed at him to step away, to put some distance between the two of you. You were clearly inebriated, and taking advantage of that wouldn't be right.

But another part of him, a more primal part, yearned to close the gap between you, just a breath away. He had always found you attractive, drawn to your quick wit and fiery spirit. But the line between friendship and something more had always felt too blurry to cross.

Now, with the inhibitions lowered by alcohol, that line seemed to have vanished entirely.

He leaned in closer, the space between your faces shrinking with each passing moment. The scent of your coconut perfume and something uniquely you filled his senses, further muddling his already clouded judgment.

"yn" he began, his voice husky, a warning more for himself than for you.

"Stay" you whispered, your lips still hovering tantalizingly close to his. The raw need in your eyes mirrored the war raging within him. “Stay and make me yours, Luke. Please”

His hand reached up, cupping your jaw as his gaze locked with yours. You tilted your head into his touch, a silent invitation.

"We can't do this, gorgeous” he murmured, his voice a low rumble against your ear. "You're not sober”

"I don't care" you interrupted, your voice thick with a desperation that surprised even you.

Luke felt his resolve crumble. He wanted this, just as much as you did. The idea of kissing you, of finally exploring the feelings that had simmered beneath the surface for so long, of touching you, feeling you, was undeniably tempting.

But a sliver of sanity remained. He knew that taking advantage of you in this state would be a betrayal of your trust, something he wouldn't be able to forgive himself for.

"But I do" he countered, his voice firm yet gentle. "If I'm doing this with you, I want to do it right. When you're sober and can make a real choice. When you can remember"

A wave of disappointment washed over you, but a tiny voice in the back of your head, untouched by the alcohol's haze, whispered its thanks. He was right. This wasn't the way you wanted things to happen.

So you nodded slowly, a small pout forming on your lips.

"Alright" you mumbled, letting go of his belt loop. “Can you still stay a little longer, though?”

A ghost of a smile played on his lips. He leaned down and brushed a soft kiss to your cheek, the touch feather-light, sending another wave of warmth through you.

"Go to sleep, trouble" he chuckled, the sound warm and familiar.

You walked back onto the bed, a strange mix of disappointment and relief swirling within you. As you drifted off to sleep, Luke pulled a chair beside the bed and settled down, keeping a silent vigil over you.

You immediately fell asleep, your mind could be running as fast as it could, but your body told another story. He watched you sleep for a moment, then left and went back to the party.

On his way back, he couldn’t help it but smirk to himself, a gushing and warm feeling rushing on his chest as he realized how close he had you. How his feeling were not so oblivious to you, and now that he knew, he wouldn’t have to work so hard to have you, or hide any longer.

[cacoetheswriting]

honesty: the music video

pairing: rockstar!eddie munson x popstar!fem!reader word count: 2.3k summary: after a long day on set, you can't wait to get it on with your costar.

content warnings: 18+, minors dni: mature themes, literally smut with a minor plot, established relationship, unprotected p in v, overstimulation, praise kink, dom-ish eddie, adult language, heavy use of pet names, mentions of aftercare — if i missed anything in this chapter, pls let me know!

celebrity skin. masterlist <- part of this lil' universe, but can totally be read as a stand-alone. timeline wise, this takes place somewhere after part 3 and before end part 5.

“We want it to be sexy.”

“But not too sexy.”

“Revealing.”

“But not too revealing.”

“Sounds like you guys don’t know what you want,” Eddie chimes in, interrupting the back and forth of your respective teams.

You stifle a giggle.

“That’s ‘cause of the two distinct styles,” someone from your team clarifies, “We wanna be respectful.”

“For sure,” one of the creatives on the Corroded Coffin side agrees. There’s a short pause. “We will have you two kiss at the end, though.”

At that, Eddie smirks. He looks at you from across the table and you could just about melt right there, blood rushing to your face, warming your cheeks.

“That won’t be a problem,” he says confidently and winks.

-

Honesty was a guaranteed hit. Top of the charts. Everybody that’s been so far involved in the project said it. They praised it. From the bass, drums, to the guitar and vocals. The production value was off the scale. A dream arrangement that would stand the test of time.

All the song needed was a music video equally as captivating.

A back and forth discourse began shortly after you first started recording with the band: whose style should the clip resemble more?

Corroded Coffin screamed all things dark, maybe a little gory. Their usual expression featured slightly melancholy undertones and a lot of references to all things Dungeons & Dragons. Imaginative, for sure. An artistry that had rarely been seen in the genre. 

Although it’s been an artistry vastly different from yours. 

The glitter hadn’t necessarily been your idea, but it certainly became a signature of sorts. Anything sparkly, always. And music videos that told a story. Most often one of love since that’s what you idolised ever since you were a kid — it obviously helped that love also sold millions of copies.

Eddie’s team argued that it’s the band’s song and you’re just a feature, therefore the accompanying video should lean into their style. Your management team was hesitant to agree. Calculating risk in case the lines get blurred a little too much and your pristine image shifts to the opposite end of the spectrum. Hours of arguments. Hours of negotiations. None of which you, or the rockstar were even mildly aware of. Too lost in each other's eyes and soft cotton sheets. 

Eventually, a compromise, of sorts, was found.

Ernest Hemingway’s The Killers influenced, in part, a 1946 film noir of the same title, with Ava Gardner and Burt Lancaster taking the lead. The movie, in turn, inspired the black and white music video.

Done up in flair of the characters, Kitty Collins and Ole Anderson (aka Swede), you recreated iconic scenes alongside the brown-eyed rockstar. The rest of the band was also dressed to the nines. Side characters that played their instruments in the background of main shots. They blended in well, while adding a unique spin to the known story. 

Overall, the Honesty shoot quickly became a big spectacle. Bigger than anything Eddie Munson and his band of closest friends has ever been lucky enough to be a part of.

Intricate sets. Glamourous. In front of cameras and bright lights, you and your scene partner, Eddie, mouthed along the lyrics to the song as if they were a script. And with every scene, as if the two of you were the only people actually there, no equipment and no crew, you got lost a tiny bit. Lost in the chocolate of the rockstar’s wide gaze. In the way he smelled. The style of that decade suited the brunette greatly, so you became lost in how he looked in this character. Dapper. Unlike you’ve ever witnessed him before. He committed to the role too. A certain swag in his movements. How he touched you so hesitantly, delicately because that’s what the video required.

By the end of the night, after the director yells, “Cut!” to signalise a wrap, a round of applause for all involved in this project, you’re feeling hot and bothered. Sweaty, though not because you just completed a full day’s work. No. Somehow, you found the Corroded Coffin frontman even more attractive than at the start of that day — something you didn’t think was possible. When you glance in his direction, he’s already staring you down, and you know he feels the same way.

Backstage, inside your trailer, you’re sitting cross-legged on the couch. Fingertips at your lips as you wait for that inevitable knock on your door. You know it’s only a matter of time considering the build up of tension throughout the shoot. From the lingering touches and that kiss the director had you two repeat over and over and over…

Logically, you could wait until the two of you were home. Back at Eddie’s Hidden Hills mansion, away from prying eyes and ears. In a bed that’s become all too familiar. Far from possible interruptions. Logic however, well, right now, logic was taking a back burner ‘cause you needed him now. Desperately. And without a doubt, Eddie needed you too.

A knock. Then again. But the rockstar doesn’t wait for you to answer. He lets himself in. 

“What happened to the wig?” You ask, raising a brow.

“It was itchy,” he replies with a slight laugh, then shakes his head. “I much prefer my natural locks.” 

“That’s too bad,” you say with a slight shrug, “You looked quite smart with that short hair.”

Eddie hangs his head with a smile, though his eyes don’t leave yours. Not even for a second. That’s when you notice the glimmer. That look, the reason he’s here, just like you predicted. So you return the expression. Only yours is a little more sly. Tempting him. Teasing. 

“I had fun today.”.

“Me too.”

There’s a lot that happens in the seconds after you stand up. A lot that happens quickly. 

Eddie reaches for your wrist, pulling you closer before wrapping his, for once, ringless hand around yours completely. He presses it to the middle of his chest, holding it against his heart. You can feel it beating and that’s enough to make you melt ‘cause it’s strong and you swear it skips at the contact. His other hand reaches for the base of your throat. He holds it gently, caressing upwards until he’s gripping your jaw. 

“Kissing you in front of all those other people kinda got me going,” he admits in a low tone.

Naughty, that’s what you want to say, but you don’t get the chance ‘cause his lips crash into yours. Hungry. Desperate. Rough. Heat rushes through your body at the sudden contact, no different than any other time his mouth found yours. You’re at his mercy, always, and he knows it well. 

His tongue glides along your top lip and you part your lips to accept him without hesitation. He wastes no time sliding into your mouth, letting this tongue work in tandem with yours as he tilts his head to further deepen the kiss. The hand holding yours lets go, instead finding home on the small of your back, pushing you as close to him as humanly possible. His other hand lets go of your jaw, albeit not completely. Ghosting along the side of your neck before you feel him wrap it around your throat, squeezing lightly. It’s nothing new for Eddie to be a little rougher with you, but there’s something about this moment, after a full day of moderate teasing and borderline foreplay, that causes a moan to burst through you when he squeezes again, only harder.

The rockstar pulls back, sporting a devilish grin. “Making such pretty noises for me and we haven’t even gotten to the best part.”

“Do your worst, Eds.” It’s a dare. Nothing sweet about it.

He smirks at the challenge and before you can register what exactly is happening, Eddie is lifting you up swiftly, hiking up your dress in the process, only to drop you down onto the sofa with a gentle thud. You’re wide-eyed as he unbuckles his belt with one hand, the other tugging at the pantyhose the wardrobe lady had you wear for the last scene of the video. He partially rips them off of you, then he hikes his index finger along the band of your underwear, eagerly pulling them down your legs until they’re wrapped around your ankles, with the reminisce of your stockings.

“The heels stay on,” the rockstar instructs, pushing your legs apart with force and positioning himself in between. All you can do is nod. Half-naked, half in costume. Same as him.

In the space of a heartbeat, his lips are on yours again. This time they don’t stay for long, instead moving downwards towards your chest. When he squeezes your breast through the silk material of your dress, he compliments how fucking good you looked, “I wanted to ravish you the second I saw you, baby.”

You whimper at his words, and at the fact that his now freed cock is gently brushing against your wet folds. Not quite breaching, just teasing you further. Only adding to the overall stimulation. 

“God, you’re so fucking hot. So fucking pretty. And all mine.” Eddie’s breathing into your bare chest ‘cause somehow in the moment your dress has slipped down ever so slightly and your tits made an appearance. Fingers from one hand are digging into your hip, holding you in place, while the other has you by the ribs. Thumb brushing your soft skin while his hot mouth is sucking on your hardened nipple.

Your eyes are closed. You’re not sure when you closed them. He’s invading your senses all at once. Just when you feel like you can’t take it anymore, when you want to whither and plead for him to touch you where you need him most, Eddie plunges himself into you without warning and your eyes snap open. 

“Oh God…” he groans, drawing his hips back only to slam them in again, making your body bounce against him. “Fuck, baby. Jesus.”

You sob in pleasure as Eddie knocks the wind out of you with each relentless thrust, still increasing his speed. Heavy panting and grunting fills the trailer, along with the sounds of where his cock slams against your sweet juices. He’s sitting straight now. Eyes are fixated on the mess you’re both making, where his length disappears in and out of you, while you admire the way his locks fall naturally in place. Although briefly, ‘cause you’re arching your back the next second, rolling your eyes to the back of your head when he hits that sweet spot.

“So. Fucking. Pretty.” He growls. “You’re so fucking pretty when you’re all stretched open like this, sweetheart. Your pussy was made for my cock, baby. You take it so well. You take this big dick so well, my good girl. Fucking made for me. Ain’t that right, dollface?”

“Made for you, Eds.” You just about whisper back, nodding your head feverishly.

Slap. His hand makes contact with your thigh and you practically wail. “That’s right,” he praises, “Made for me. So fucking tight for me.” Slap. Slap. Slap. 

Eddie’s cock starts to swell. You can feel it expand inside of you, then again when he thrusts back in. It has you heaving. The speed he’s established is close to becoming a little too much for the two of you and he drops his weight slightly, allowing you to wrap your arms around him, nails digging into his bare back. He can sense that you too are close and he’s trying hard to hold back, make this moment last longer, but his body refuses to slow down. Chasing the way your glistening pussy chokes his length. 

“Where do you want me baby?”

“Inside,” you croak out. “Cum in me, Eddie. Please. I need you to fill me up.”

“M’mph—” He chokes out, movements growing more and more erratic. The whole trailer is shaking at this point, that’s what it feels like to the two of you anyway. “Everybody out there will know what a good little slut you are. Not that innocent. Wanting me to fill you full of my cum, fuck.” 

Slap. Slap. Against your thigh. 

“Please, Eddie.” 

Slap.

“Shh… I’ll give you what you want, sweetheart.” He coos, “Gonna pump you full. Gonna make you see stars while my cum drips out of you.”

That’s when you shatter around him, uncontrollable desperate squeals making him groan louder as he continues. It’s sloppy, messy, and once you’ve completely unravelled underneath him, the rockstar can’t contain himself any longer. He lets out a broken moan as ropes and ropes of his warm spend start to throb into your hole.

His body gives up at the last spur and he drops flat on top of you, although not without a loose kiss placed to your jaw. His cock remains inside of your pussy. You can feel it pulsing until, after a few minutes, it no longer matches the beat of your heart.

Eddie lifts himself then. He kisses you softly and you smile against his mouth. When he eventually slips out and stands, he tells you not to move, that he’ll grab a towel from the small trailer bathroom and will help you get cleaned up.

“Wardrobe is going to kill us,” you call after him, balancing on your elbows as you sit up slowly. “Pretty sure these clothes can never be worn again. Purely for the fact that they reek of sex.”

“At least your wig stayed in place,” Eddie points out lightheartedly when he returns, his pants once again buckled, a towel in his hand. “That’s something the hair and makeup team should be proud of.”

“I’ll be sure to tell them,” you say, meaning it as a joke ‘cause there’s no way you would ever admit to what sins the two of you just committed.

Eddie smirks. “Pretty sure they already know,” he says as if it’s no big deal, “We weren’t exactly quiet, sweetheart.”

as always, thank you for reading! pls comment, reblog & support your creators.

celebrity skin. masterlist | the killers (1946) reference

& the celebrity skin. taglist: @eviethetheatrefreak , @thirddeadlysin , @haylaansmi , @nope-thanks , @tlclick73 , @vintagehellfire , @ashlynnkennedy , @avalon-wolf , @sidthedollface2 , @astheni-a , @bebe07011 , @aysheashea , @papillonoirsworld , @vol2eddie , @spideyanakin-interacts , @rogers-sweatbands , @mimsie95 , @mmunson86 , @eddiesguitarskills - (if your user is crossed out, it means the tag isn’t working. pls check you’ve enabled tagging in your settings)

[viinchester]

Haunted Reflections

Warnings: References to Violence and Murder, mentions of Stalking, Trauma (related to losing a limb & violent incidents), Obsessive Thoughts, Unhealthy Behavior, graphic descriptions in thoughts of Gore (Violence, Bloodshed, a bit of Body Mutilation), Moral Ambiguity (we're talking about Brian Moser here, hello?), Insults (like a single word lol), mentions of Drugs (two sentences, nothing about taking them), mentions of Death

Fandom: Dexter (TV Show/Series)

Pairing: Brian Moser/Rudy Cooper x F!Reader

Request by: @ireallydontknowohcrabs

Summary: You head to your routine appointment for a readjustment of your prosthetic leg at the Miami prosthetics clinic. This time, however, you are met with Rudy Cooper instead of your usual doctor. Unbeknownst to you, his dark secrets lie hidden beneath the surface, and you’ve unwittingly captured his undivided attention and care.

Word Count: 2.321

My Masterlist

A/N: Initially wasn't sure about which direction to go with this request, but I decided on one eventually.😅 It was fun to write, so I hope you guys will it!💞 Reposts/Comments with feedback are, as always, very much appreciated!!🙏🏼 And just as a reminder: My requests are currently open.🥰💙

You expected this visit to be the same as any other to the prosthetics clinic usually was.

You were going to meet Dr. Gardner, the prosthetist who had been with you since you’d first been fitted for your prosthetic leg, and he'd make a slight adjustment to it, and then you'd leave again.

But instead of that being the case, when you walked into the clinic today, you were greeted by someone else. A man, much younger than Dr. Gardner, with a tall frame and dark curly hair stood by the window and was currently slipping on his gloves. The doctor, obvious by the signature-white lab coat he was wearing, calmly turned to you with a professional and slightly reassuring smile.

“Unfortunately Dr. Gardner’s out sick at the moment,” he immediately explained, his voice smooth and composed. “I'm filling in for him, so I’ll be the one handling your adjustment today. My name's Dr. Rudy Cooper, it's nice to meet you.” He shook your hand gently before gesturing to the chair in the middle of the room. “Please, have a seat.”

You nodded, sitting down and rolling the cuff of your pant-leg up, glancing at him curiously. “Well then let’s see if you’re as good as Dr. Gardner at putting me back together.”

Brian gave a small smile as he seated himself across from you, gently lifting your leg to begin his examination on your prosthetic. “I’ll try my best. Dr. Gardner’s very good at it, from what I hear.” His voice was light, but he was already scanning you, taking in the way you moved, the way you spoke.

When his eyes reached your hands, he had to do a double take, his world stopping. Your nails, painted in the exact same way his mother used to paint hers. The hues were extremely similar, and the order of the colors was identical.

It came out of nowhere and hit him like a physical blow. For just a second his breath hitched and his usually steady hands trembled at the sight.

No. It couldn’t be. But it was.

His mother’s nails, now on your hands, like some ghostly echo of the past.

The carefully constructed facade of calm professionalism flickered for a moment as a flood of memories surged through him.

His mother’s laughter, the smell of her perfume, the soft touch of her hand as she ruffled his hair. And then… the blood. Her blood, mixing with the colors of those very same nails.

How could this be happening? He hadn’t thought about his mother in this way for so long, hadn’t let himself remember.

Blinking a few times, he quickly put your leg down and reached for your file instead, fighting to regain control over his composure.

He couldn’t lose it here. Not now. It was just a coincidence anyway. Just some random woman with the same taste in nail polish.

Still, deep down the shock lingered, sending tremors through the carefully walled-off parts of his mind.

He flipped through your file as casually as possible, clearing his throat once to keep his tone friendly, but professional. “Just going over some notes here. It says the injury happened... a few years ago? Could you remind me of what happened, just to make sure everything lines up?”

Forcing a polite smile, the mask of Rudy Cooper slipped into place, though it felt more strained than usual. His eyes couldn’t help but glance back to your nails every time you so much as shifted, the image of his mother — and her terrified eyes, her pleading hands, those painted nails — almost overlapping with you. He could barely hear your voice over the roaring in his head.

Not noticing anything off, you nodded, hesitating for a second. You hesitated, not because the incident was difficult to talk about anymore, but because it had become such a strange story to tell. You’d almost made peace with it, enough to laugh about it sometimes.

“Yeah, it was... a pretty bad day. Tried to steal some drugs. Not for me, though.” You smiled shyly, a hint of awkwardness in your tone. “My idiot ex, thought I could help him out of a mess he got himself into. But then I got cornered by three guys with a chainsaw. Like something out of a horror movie, right?” You laughed a little, but it didn’t quite reach your eyes.

Brian’s hands paused again, but he kept his face neutral, even with the chaos inside him growing. Drugs? That was already close enough to the horrors of his past. But then you mentioned three guys with a chainsaw, and the floor seemed to fall away beneath him. Though his expression didn’t change and he resumed his adjustment on your prosthetic, the memory inside his mind hit him like a sledgehammer, and in vivid detail as well. His mother, the men, the chainsaw whirring. He was too young to stop it, too small to save her, but the memory had never left him. The blood, the screams, the way her nails had clutched at him in desperation before the world went red.

And now here you were, sitting in front of him, your soft voice recounting a version of his nightmare.

Brian exhaled slowly, maintaining a steady voice. “That’s... an intense way to lose a leg. It must have been terrifying.” His words sounded professional, if empathetic, but internally he struggled to comprehend how this was possible. How could you have survived something so reminiscent of what happened to her?

His disbelief mixed with something darker, something predatory. He had been powerless as a child, but not now. Not anymore.

The thought of you cornered by men with a chainsaw, just like his mother, made something in him snap into place. His shock was replaced by cold determination.

It was as if the universe had handed him a second chance, a way to rewrite the past. This time was different. This time, he wouldn’t be helpless. This time, he would stop the violence, before it consumed you, too.

You gave a small shrug and kept talking, oblivious to the storm brewing inside of him. “Yeah, it was... I honestly didn't believe I’d make it out alive. But it’s been a few years now and here I am, still standing. Just… in a slightly different way.” You offered a small, self-deprecating smile. “Guess I’ve learned to adapt. Well, kind of. I’m still getting used to the leg in a way, but hey, I haven’t fallen flat on my face in a while, so I guess that’s progress.” You smiled again, this time more genuine though, trying to lighten the mood. “And at least my ex didn’t get the drugs. Silver linings, right?”

Brian’s gaze darkened slightly at that, though he kept his tone light. “I see. That’s very impressive and brave of you, as I can only imagine how tough all that must have been. I’m hoping your ex is not someone you still have to deal with on top of that?”

You hesitated, biting your lip and avoiding his eyes, a little uneasy at the topic of your ex boyfriend. “Well, actually… he’s, uh, kind of been stalking me, on and off. Nothing too serious, but... it’s still annoying, you know?”

Brian's fingers flexed around your prosthetic, the material fitting securely into place. His eyes, though still composed on the surface, deepened in intensity and became more focused. Your ex was stalking you. Lurking, like a predator. His jaw clenched, and his disbelief at the situation melted away, replaced by a new resolve.

I couldn’t save her. But I can save you.

The idea of this man, your ex, still in your life filled him with an odd sense of purpose. He didn’t care about people, not really, but this was different. You had painted nails. You had suffered violence. You reminded him of her.

He would make sure nobody hurt you ever again. Starting with that ex-boyfriend of yours. Yes, he would definitely be dealt with. Permanently.

And going further, from now on, you would become his patient. Dr. Gardner had served his purpose, but Brian knew, with a chilling certainty, that you wouldn’t be seeing him again. Not if he could help it.

He forced a sympathetic chuckle, masking his true emotions as he continued to work on your prosthetic with his usual precision. “That sounds... frustrating. You’d think he’d get the hint by now.”

“Right?” You rolled your eyes playfully, trying to dispel the tension that came with the subject of your ex. “But I’m fine, really. It’s just one of those things I have to deal with.”

Brian simply nodded, his hands moving delicately, ensuring the fit was perfect, but his thoughts were miles away, plotting, considering what exactly he needed to do next to make sure you'd no longer have to do deal with it.

He was nothing if not methodical, his mind working like a finely-tuned machine, always planning, always calculating. When it came to taking care of your ex-boyfriend and Dr. Gardner, he would need to use two different approaches, that much was obvious.

Your ex-boyfriend would be the one to pay in blood. The man had been the catalyst for your suffering, the reason you had been put in a situation that mirrored Brian's own mother's gruesome death.

So your ex wasn't going to just disappear, that would be too easy, too nice. Instead, the bastard was going to feel every ounce of pain, every bit of terror that Brian imagined his mother and you had felt. He’d stalk him for days and learn his habits, figure out where he was most vulnerable. And when he’d finally make his move, it would be somewhere isolated, somewhere he could really take his time.

The act itself would neither be quick nor clean. Instead, Brian would make it messy, and visceral. He'd use tools that mimicked the chainsaw that had haunted both him and you. While he wouldn’t use an actual chainsaw, far too noisy and difficult to control, he would choose something just as violent, perhaps a hacksaw or an axe. He would let your ex feel the terror, hear the whir of a blade, and realize that his time was up.

In his twisted mind, Brian believed that you deserved closure. You needed to know that your ex-boyfriend was truly dead. Maybe you wouldn’t know it had been Brian, but you’d know your ex had been taken care of — brutally, and publicly even. The police would find the body, bloodied, hacked apart, left in some abandoned place where no one could escape the horror of the scene. It wouldn’t be a neat kill; it would be a spectacle. The kind that left a permanent mark in the mind of anyone who saw it.

It would be justice for you, and revenge for his mother.

It would be perfect.

You were going to feel safe, knowing that the danger had been wiped out, grateful that the threat was gone.

Dr. Gardner, on the other hand, required a different touch. Brian held no ill feelings toward him, the man simply needed to die out of necessity. But the doctor was a respected figure in your life, and if he simply vanished or died a violent death, you might grieve too hard, or worse, become suspicious. So Dr. Gardner's exit had to be quiet, peaceful, and leave no room for doubt. Brian could easily make it look natural, the man was already old enough that it wouldn’t raise too many questions if he were to die in his sleep anyway.

He'd slip a small dose of potassium chloride into Dr. Gardner’s food or drink, undetectable and mimicking the signs of a natural heart attack. The man would feel a sudden, overwhelming pressure in his chest, his heart seizing painfully — but he wouldn’t be able to cry for help. And in mere minutes, it would be over, and the man would be found peacefully in his bed or his office chair, just another old guy who’d met his end from "natural causes". No one would question it, and you might feel sad for a little while, but definitely not suspicious.

And Brian knew grief over a natural death tended to fade more quickly.

Then you’d return to the clinic in need of further adjustments to your prosthetic in the future, and who would be there for you? Him. The friendly, capable replacement who’d been there all along.

As Brian thought about it all, his hands checked the fit of your prosthetic, his fingers running along the edges.

“Now, hopefully this adjustment will work perfectly for you,” he then said, his voice calm as ever. “If you need anything else, any follow-up, you can come back to me and I’ll take care of it.”

You nodded — still oblivious to anything going on underneath his professional exterior — as you softly smiled up at him and stood up, testing your leg and finding it already fitting better. “Thanks, Dr. Cooper, it’s great, and that’s really nice of you. I’ll be sure to come back if I need any more work done.”

Brian smiled back, but it was colder this time, more possessive. “Rudy, please. And I’ll be here, whenever you need me.”

As you left the clinic, you felt relieved, glad that everything had gone well despite the fact that Dr. Gardner wasn't the one doing your adjustment. Dr. Cooper, or Rudy, had been kind, careful, and understanding. He was a really nice man. Hopefully you'd have him as your prosthetist again if Dr. Gardner ever fell sick another time.

Watching you walk away, Brian was certain of your return. He intended to mold your future so that you would always come back to him.

You may not know it yet, but he was going to ensure you’d never need anyone else, ever again.

[riordanness]

pick up lines - [p.jackson]

pairing: percy jackson x reader

wordcount: 1.4K

warnings: none

I hated waking up.

Not that sleeping was particularly amazing, being a demigod and all, but waking up really sucked. I'd been resting peacefully (not), when I was rudely shaken from my sleep by the breakfast bell.

Unfortunately, I had never been an early riser, so most mornings, there was a mad rush, involving a lot of mess, losing everything I needed, and desperately trying, (and failing) to clean up my cabin before inspection, which was right after breakfast.

I was generally the one who had the messiest cabin during inspection.

I finally was dressed in jeans and an orange Camp Half-Blood shirt, with my h/c hair pulled away from my face. Then, I ran to the dining pavilion.

I was a daughter of Demeter, the plant goddess. Yeah, I'm sure most of you are thinking: Oh, wow, plants... But seriously, it's kinda cool. I do have some pretty sweet powers. I can grow any plants from practically nothing, control plants and stuff, and sense things in the earth. I can even use plants to travel instantly from one place to another, by just hopping through the trees, or seeds, or flowers, or weeds, or . . . whatever.

I slipped into my seat next to Katie Gardner, my elder sister. She was the counsellor for Cabin Demeter. Katie was super nice, but she was always busy at the moment, mostly hanging out with her new boyfriend, Travis Stoll, Son of Hermes.

"You slept in again," Katie whispered to me, trying, and failing epically, to hide her laughter. "We thought it was best not to try and wake you."

That was probably smart. If someone woke me up, they'd most likely leave that situation with a black eye and seeds growing in their skin. I can be fairly lethal when I want to be.

"I stated up too late again last night," I said back, my voice also low. I didn't like when other kids were listening in on my conversations, especially those Hermes kids.

"Doing what?" Katie smirked, like she knew something I didn't.

"Um..." What was I doing? Hanging out with my best friend of course. Who also happened to be the cutest and most popular guy at camp. The only current Son of Posiedon. Percy Jackson.

"I was with Percy, at the beach. We were finding lost starfish and chucking them back in the water..." My voice faltered. I wasn't good at lying. 'At the beach' was accurate. We'd been laying on a picnic blanket, watching the stars, and just talking about everything and anything, for hours. We did that almost every night. It was the best feeling in the world, just being with him.

"Uh huh." Katie turned back to her food. "He likes you, y/n, I'm sure of it. Just as much as you like him, I bet."

"Katie!" I hissed, my face beet red, but the words pleased me. I'd had a crush on Percy Jackson since the first day he arrived at Camp Half-Blood, tired and bruised and scratched from fighting the Minotaur. He'd limped into camp, stole my heart, and became the coolest guy at camp within a month.

And yes, I was in love with him. We'd been best friends for years, and we hung out all the time. How could I possibly not fall for him, with his stupid trouble-maker grin, his dark, messy hair, his sparkling sea-green baby-seal eyes, and his voice. He was, at least in my eyes, perfect.

***

Later, I was practicing my sword-fighting in the arena, hacking arms and legs and heads off the stuffed straw dummies. I'd never been the best fighter, but I felt like I was getting the hang of my sword.

"Are you a child of Hermes?" a joking voice rang out from behind me. I spun around, and came face to face with one of the Hephestus kids. Leo Valdez, maybe?

I blew my hair out of my face, breathing hard. "Um, no? Demeter, actually. Why?"

The boy, Leo, cracked a grin. "Because you stole my heart."

I blinked, not sure what to say. I never really spoke to any of the kids from Hephestus cabin, especially not this one.

"Uh, okay... thanks, I guess?"

Leo grinned again, then ran off without saying anything else. Okay... that was pretty weird.

I decided to go for a walk, to cool down and to stretch my legs a bit, so I headed for the basketball courts, where a bunch of kids were playing a really aggressive game.

I plopped down on the grass a few meters back from the courts, and watched the game. It looked like Ares and Apollo (a strange match), against Athena, Dionysus, and a couple other kids, like Jason Grace, Nico Di Angelo, and Percy.

I found myself watching Percy more than the other players, but snapped my eyes away from him once I realised. I didn't want anyone seeing me staring at my best friend.

After a while, the players called for a break, and Jason Grace approached me. "Oh, hey (Y/N)," he smiled at me, sitting beside me and taking a swig of water from a drink bottle.

"Hey," I said back. Again, I was surprised at why Jason was talking to me. He didn't usually. Demeter kids were looked over quite a bit, and Jason was one of the big shots - a child of Zeus. Of course, Percy was a son of Posiedon, and he talked to me, but that was different. I'd known Percy for years, even before we came here at twelve years old. I'd know him since he was seven.

"Are you a child of Hades?" Jason asked suddenly.

I frowned at him. "No. Demeter, actually. Why does everyone keep-?"

I was cut off by Jason grinning and saying: "Because I'm dying to call you mine."

I swallowed. "Um..."

Jason got up and walked away, heading back to his game. I was totally confused, so I stood up, brushed off my jean shorts, and decided to go to the strawberry fields, where I usually spent most of my time, among the plants. Plants always calmed me down, and this random guys telling me pick-up lines were a little stressful. I wasn't the kind of girl who normally got guys, anyway.

After a few minutes of walking up and down the strawberry aisles, I ran into Nico di Angelo. Nico wasn't usually the sort of person you ran into in the strawberry fields, so I was surprised.

"Oh, hi, Nico," I said cheerily, waving at him. Nico and I were actually pretty good friends, so I was glad to see him. We got along surprisingly well, considering our parents' rivalry. You know, the whole Persephone getting kidnapped thing.

"Are you a child of Hephestus?" Nico stammered, blushing with embarrassment.

At this point, I was utterly confused.

"No!" I said, frowning. "I'm a daughter of Demeter, and I know you know that, Nico. And why does everyone keep trying these stupid pick-up lines on me? Besides... you like guys, don't you?"

"Well, um..." Nico shrugged and ran off, leaving me in a state of helpless confusion.

I sank to my knees in the soft grass, picking at it with my fingers. "What's happening with me today?" I wondered aloud.

"Hey, are you Aphrodite?" a familiar voice asked. "Because you're divinely gorgeous."

I glanced up, meeting the sea-green eyes of my best friend. "Percy?" I asked. "You too? What's-?"

Percy stopped me, sitting down cross-legged beside me. "Hey, I've- I've liked you for ages, but I never told you because I was scared you'd not feel the same and so we'd lose our awesome friendship, but the guys found out and so they were trying to make me jealous enough to admit me feelings today, by trying out pick-up lines on you, so, well, I- I decided that I should just tell you.”

I sucked in a breath. "Oh my gods," I managed. "You stupid son of Posiedon."

"What?" Percy chuckled nervously.

"Are you a child of the Sea God?" I asked softly. "Because I'm drowning in your beautiful eyes."

Gathering all my courage, I leaned forward and pressed my mouth against Percy's, feeling him smile against my lips, and I couldn't have wished for anything more.

[a-god-in-crime-alley]

So I got to thinking.

DP x DC prompt #3

You guys know that awesome prompt where Black Canary goes to work as a therapist at Casper High? (Edit: no I don’t have a link. I can’t find the post even though I know I reblogged it)

I just remembered who ELSE could do that instead. Arguably (slightly) more qualified as having been a high school counselor at one point. So he would have the necessary qualifications already and would only need to be recertified as he hasn’t been a school counselor for a while.

Former PE Coach. Former Leader of the Red Lantern Corps. Former Star Sapphire (is that still in continuity? I’m gonna say yes)

You know him! You (probably) hate him! The one and only…

Guy “Glass Jaw” Gardner!!!

That’s right folks. A Green Lantern with a Public Identity. Can you imagine?

Everyone hates him at first, and with the student’s history with school psychologists, his more abrasive personality would probably make people avoid talking to him.

But he can be genuinely sincere and has a lot of helpful advice. He’s GOOD at being a counselor. It’s why him owning a Bar on Oa kind of works.

So just imagine, Space Loving Danny Fenton getting to see a Green Lantern in person! Not so happy to have a new school counselor but hey, at least this one isn’t likely to try and kill everyone. And Guy really doesn’t make the best first impressions. In fact, he probably reminds Danny of Dash.

Right up until Guy jumps in to help Phantom. After all, that’s one of his students. So the next day he had Fenton pulled from class to talk to him. About the heroing, the gaps in his class attendance, the missing assignments, and about how he’s given up on working for NASA.

[il0veaphr0dite]

FIRST TIME’S

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REQUESTS ARE OPEN!

A/N: thank you all for the likes on my posts! im so happy that you guys have been enjoying my work😭🫶🏽 i tried a lil bit of Minhos pov this time. Enjoy!!

SUMMARY: Minho’s friends are noticing how he pays extra attention to you and encourage him to talk to you.

PARING: shy!fem!reader x Minho

WARNINGS: nothing fluff❤️

WORD COUNT: 1367

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Quiet, is what the gladers described you as.

You came into the glade 3 months ago, scared and alone. You didn't talk to anyone when you got out of the box, but, when you did it was only a few words.

It was weird for everyone to have a girl around, multiple gladers hit on you but realized it was no use when you wouldn't respond.

And when it came time to pick a job, you chose to be a Gardner. Ever since you first tried it out, you liked how it kept your mind off the fact that you were stuck in the maze.

Everyone who worked in the gardens knew you didn't like talking much, so they mostly left you to yourself, which you were grateful for.

You just finished your work in the gardens and made your way to the kitchens, you didn't eat lunch earlier so you were starving.

You grabbed a plate of Frypan’s ham sandwich and hurriedly sat down. You took a bite of the sandwich, silently thanking Frypan for his cooking skills.

You went to take another bite when you felt eyes on you. You were used to getting stared at since you were, you know, the only girl.

But this felt different. You couldn't quite describe it. You soon chose to ignore it and continued eating.

On the other end of the stare was Minho. He hadn't touched his sandwich since he saw you enter, too occupied watching you.

“Dude, stop staring it's creepy” Ben set his sandwich back on his plate, still chewing.

Minho broke his gaze, turning to Ben, “I don't know what you're talking about”, eventually picking up his sandwich and taking a bite.

“She’s going to notice soon that a random dude is staring at her,” he said, soon following Minho’s actions and taking a bite out of his sandwich.

Minho proceeded to ignore him, when Newt sat down across from Minho and Ben, setting his plate down.

“Hey Shanks, what's going on?” Minho watched as Newt took a bite out of his sandwich.

“Just eating with a creep who likes to stare at people” Ben responded jokingly causing Minho to roll his eyes.

Newt raises his brows in confusion “What are you talking about?” he asks.

“Minho’s been staring at Y/N ever since she stepped foot in here.”

“I know, this isn’t the first time,” Newt explains. “He’s been doing this ever since she came up in that box,”

Newt wasn't lying. Minho had been paying extra attention to you ever since you came to the glade.

He liked how you were in your own world, and never seemed to be bothered by anyone.

The following weeks after you came up, he couldn't understand why he couldn't stop watching you, and furthermore why his heart beat every time he saw you.

He soon found himself telling Frypan to save an extra plate for you because he noticed how you woke up late most of the time and missed breakfast.

And while Minho did all that, Newt was watching him. He could tell how he felt about you.

“Why haven’t I noticed then?” Ben's eyes widened at the new information.

“I dunno, maybe cause you’re a slinthead” Newt spoke before taking another bite out of his sandwich.

Ben raised his hand into a fist threateningly, causing Newt to put his hands up in defeat. “You should ask her to sit with us tomorrow,” Ben suggested lowering his fist.

“I dunno..” Minho said, uncertain.

Ben nudged him slightly with his elbow. “Come on”

Soon Newt found himself joining in, “What could possibly happen?”

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And so that day Minho found himself asking you to sit with them.

You were in the gardens planting tomato seeds. You put the bag of seeds down to tuck your hair behind your ear when you see a pair of boots in front of you.

It was Minho.

He came back from the maze to see you working in the gardens, remembering what Ben and Newt said, he gathered the courage to ask you.

You stood up from your kneeling position, brushing you pants off.

“Hey uhh, Would you, maybe, want to sit with me and a couple of other gladers during dinner?” Minho asked, hoping his nervousness wasn't showing.

You were more than surprised, you were dumbfounded. You would have expected anyone to ask you that, but not Minho. Your heart was beating and you couldn't understand why.

You knew who he was. I mean, the man was gorgeous with his black hair and buff arms and he knows it. He had an amazing smile and furthermore, he was a runner.

So why was he asking you, a quiet girl who barley speaks, to have dinner with him and his friends?

You didn't know why.

“I..uhh..sure,” you said barely above a whisper.

“Okay, well I'll see you at, uhm, dinner” Minho kept his composure before turning around.

He couldn't believe it. You said yes. He made a mental note to thank Ben and Newt later.

He walked to the map room grinning from ear to ear.

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Later that day, Minho found himself waiting for you at the same table with Newt across from him and Ben to his left.

“What if she doesn't come?” Minho said, bouncing his leg up and down.

“Minho, it's dinner, where else would she go?” Ben rolled his eyes as Newt laughed at his response.

Minho’s leg stopped bouncing as he caught sight of you. You walked towards them with a ham sandwich (again) making eye contact with Minho.

Ben and Newt followed Minho’s gaze to you walking towards them.

“uhm..hi” you said, holding your plate awkwardly.

“Hey Y/N”

“Hey”

Newt and Ben looked at Minho, waiting for him to reply to you.

“Hey” he finally met out.

Newt patted the spot next to him. You sat next to him and set down your plate, and soon after that the conversation between them began to flow.

“I only tripped one time!” Ben argued.

Newt and Minho laughed before Newt continued“I saw you trip at least five times and that was this week alone”

You found yourself joining in the laughter.

“Come on Y/N!, not you too,” Ben said in defeat.

You laughed, “I'm sorry, I can't help it.

He watched you, laughing, he’d never seen anything so beautiful. You'd always been so quiet, this was the first time he'd seen you laugh.

Ben nudged him in the arm “You're staring” he whispered.

Minho quickly looked away, not wanting to seem creepy.

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After a while, you all cleaned up. You were all planning to take a walk together but Ben and Newt said they had to leave so it was just you and Minho.

You and Minho were now walking together.

“How was the maze?” you asked softly.

That was the second time Minho had heard you speak above a whisper today. The first being when you apologized to Ben earlier.

“It was the same, nothing new yet. How were the gardens?”

“Nothing new either unless you find planting tomatoes interesting”

Minho chuckled. This was now the first time Minho had heard you tell a joke. It seemed he heard a lot of first’s today.

It turned silent after that. Not an awkward silence, a comfortable one.

You felt Minho’s fingers brush against yours as your fingers interlocked.

He turned towards you to find you blushing.

This had now been the first time he saw you blushing.

“I was wondering, uhm, would you want to go on a date with me?” he asked “ Only if you want to I'm not going to make you do anything you-”

“I’d love to,” you said.

He stopped walking and turned towards you.

“Okay..well, uhm, great”

“Yeah,” you said giggling.

You look up, locking eyes with him.

You wrap your arms around his waist as he wraps his around your shoulder.

Minho lifts his head to see Newt and Ben hiding behind a tree. “Shuck”

“What?” She questions.

“Nothing” He looks back at Ben and Newt to see them giving him a thumbs up.

A smile grew on his face.

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[fluentmoviequoter]

Me and the Ring

Part 2 of Me or the Ring

Pairing: Hal Jordan x fem!reader

Summary: After Hal broke your heart and failed his mission, the Guardians send Kyle to pick up where he left off. You can't trust Hal, but that doesn't mean you don't love him.

Warnings: angst to fluff, some suggestiveness/objectification (it's innocent, just Hal Jordan flirting), lots of DC Lantern lore references. ignore the incorrect timeline of the GLs

Word Count: 2.9k+ words

Picture from Pinterest

Masterlist | DC/Hal Jordan Masterlist

Coast City isn’t the same without Hal Jordan. Every time you see Green Lantern fly across the sky or a picture of him on the news, you miss your Flyboy a little more. Leaving Hal was the right choice, or so you keep telling yourself. As you walk out of a mediocre coffee shop, because you’re too nervous and heartbroken to return to the one where you met Hal, you accidentally bump into someone.

“Sorry,” you murmur without looking up.

“I’m not,” the man replies.

You glance up at his face before dropping your eyes again. He moves his arm, and you see something green reflect the sunlight.

“I’m not interested,” you say. “Excuse me.”

“Look, I know I started poorly,” the man continues, moving to block your path. “But let me start over? My name’s Kyle.”

“Okay. Kyle, get out of my way.”

“Where’s Gardner?” Kilowog mumbles. “Guardians sent ‘em both, but I ain’t seen him since we left.”

“I’m not worried about Guy,” Hal replies. “She keeps backing up. She’s different than she was with me. This is all my fault, Kilowog.”

“You’re right, poozer. But don’t give your apology to me.”

Hal sighs as he watches you. He can’t hear, but Kilowog’s Bolovaxian ears pick up every catch of your breath.

“Hal,” he grunts. “He’s taking her somewhere.”

Kyle sighs, and when his shoulder rolls back, you see the unmistakable ring on his finger. Another Green Lantern. As if one breaking your heart wasn’t enough, they still think you are guilty of some intergalactic crime spree.

“Kyle, I’m late for a meeting. Maybe I could give you my number?” you suggest.

Playing along seems like the best option. He smiles and moves again, blatantly showing off the ring. You accept his phone and input a fake name and a fake number.

“Now, lying isn’t nice,” Kyle says as he takes his phone back.

“What?”

“That’s not your name.”

You take a step back as your face drops in worry. Hal was never this pushy, and you wish he was here now. Before you can turn on your heel to run, Kyle reaches out and wraps a hand around your arm.

“If you don’t willingly go back to Oa and confess to your crimes, I will drag you across the worst planets I can think of on the way,” he threatens quietly.

You fumble with your phone at your side, navigating to your favorite contacts with only one name in mind.

“C’mon, you’re my girl,” Hal murmurs as he watches Kyle lean in to speak. “You know what to do. Don’t trust him.”

“She just said your name,” Kilowog announces.

A single second later, Hal’s phone rings. At the same time, a sapphire portal opens behind you and Kyle. Hal is angry for you, at Kyle, at the situation, but he doesn’t bother to answer your call as Kyle pulls you closer.

“Rayner,” Hal greets as he lands beside you. “Let her go.”

You lean toward Hal, and Kyle’s eyes remain on the opening portal.

“This isn’t over, Jordan,” he responds. “She’s coming back to Oa.”

“Don’t do this,” Kilowog says as he lands behind Kyle.

Your eyes widen at the sight of Kilowog, another Green Lantern. Hal steps closer to you, and you find comfort in his proximity. The other Green Lantern is large, but he seems to be with Hal, unlike Kyle.

“Last chance,” Hal tells Kyle. “Don’t make this worse.”

Sapphire sparks fly off the portal as it reaches its peak. Kyle hesitates before releasing his grip on you. His suit forms around him before he flies away, but you use your new freedom to turn toward Hal. You grip his suit, although you’re surprised you can actually feel it, and hide your face against his chest.

“This is Kilowog,” Hal says calmly. He presses a hand against your back to keep you close before promising, “I’m not going to let anything happen to you, pretty girl.”

As Kilowog steps back urgently, you anticipate that Hal will break yet another promise. The portal begins shrinking suddenly, and Kilowog yells something before an unseen force pulls you closer to the pink circle.

When you open your eyes, Kilowog groans in a language you don’t recognize. You step back, out of Hal’s hold, and look around.

“Where are we?” you ask softly.

“Zamaron,” Kilowog answers.

“Why can I breathe?”

“My ring,” Hal says. “I can create an atmosphere for you.”

“How am I supposed to go home?”

“I’ll get you home, I promise.”

“Stop promising! Tell me how!” you demand.

Hal sees the fear in your eyes and shakes his head. “I don’t know yet,” he admits.

“Okay. What now?”

“Hal!” Kilowog alerts. “We’ve got company.”

“Hello,” a pink-skinned woman says as she lands before you.

Hal moves quickly to press himself against your back. You want to find comfort in the touch, but you’re terrified and don’t want to fall for another Hal Jordan trick.

“The Guardians- the guys who make the rings thought you were working with her,” Hal whispers.

You turn to look over your shoulder with wide eyes. The accusations have a new layer of unbelievability, now. There’s a sapphire ring on her finger, and when she doesn’t acknowledge the Green Lanterns with you, you tense your shoulders nervously.

“I’m sorry,” Hal adds.

“Save it,” you snap. “Tell me when you get me back to Coast City.”

Hal nods, and you turn away. There are more women before you now, and you unconsciously lean against Hal before he is pulled away.

“Take the men to their quarters,” the woman commands. “Welcome to Zamaron, human.”

“Where are you taking my friends?” you ask.

One of the women lays a hand on your back, but you step forward to preserve your personal space. They let you follow at your own pace, though they do not answer your question.

“Where did you take them?” you repeat loudly.

“Do not be concerned. Our atmosphere has adapted to your presence, so you no longer need the men to protect you,” someone answers.

“We are taking you to my palace,” the first woman says. “I am the current leader of Zamaron, and I would like to extend our hospitality to you.”

“I would appreciate a plane ticket home a bit more than hospitality,” you argue.

“In time. You will have the chance to return home, I assure you.”

You continue in silence. The palace appears as you turn a corner, and you wonder where Hal and Kilowog are. If you needed him, could he come? Would he?

“We have to get out of here, Kilowog,” Hal says before hitting the prison bars again.

“You know we can’t,” Kilowog replies.

“She is out there alone! I’m not going to just sit here and accept my fate!”

“I’m not tellin’ you too, poozer. I’m sayin’ that you need a new approach. You’re not a hero, remember?”

Hal nods as he begins pacing. “Right. I’m not a hero. But I am a Flyboy.”

Kilowog agrees before asking, “Is this a translation problem or are you making up words?”

“They’re going to offer her a ring, Kilowog,” Hal says. “I trust her, but she doesn’t know what the Sapphires do.”

“You broke her heart. If she accepts the ring, you’re her first stop.”

“Trust me. I know.”

“She called for help, Hal. Work on finding a way to do that.”

“You have strong emotions toward the human Lantern,” the leader of Zamaron muses. “Is there love?”

“Not anymore,” you answer.

“I see. My friends and I here are the Star Sapphire Corps. Do you know what that means?”

“I don’t. We humans aren’t well-versed in the whole ring thing.”

She chuckles, her laughter just as royal and majestic as her voice. “Star Sapphires are a race built on love. As our first members said, ‘Life without love is blasphemy.’ Tell me, what would you do for a life of love and power?”

“Work,” you answer. “Love and power aren’t given; they’re earned and created.”

“Poor child, you have no idea of the possibilities in the universe. Accept a ring, join our people, and the life you crave, the love you no longer have, can be yours.”

You shake your head, determined to get off of this planet. “I just want to go home.”

“And you may. A portal can be made available to you.”

“Thank you. Can I see my friends now?”

“I fear you misunderstand. We, women, are the only beings who understand what love truly is. There is no place for men on Zamaron.”

“You’re going to kill them,” you realize. “You kill all men.”

“We free them from their failed responsibilities. They cannot love, so they cannot live.”

“That’s not true.”

“Your Hal Jordan could not love you as you deserve. What proof do you have?”

“I- I can show you.”

“Green Lanterns are not to be trusted. Prove your worth with a ring or return home. Without your unfortunate friends.”

You close your eyes and take a deep breath before saying, “I would like a ring. Hal Jordan used me, and he must learn what life without love is like. He takes but never gives. It’s my turn.”

Your dramatic speech wins over the Sapphires, and the leader nods. Another Zamaron kneels before you and slides a pink ring onto your finger. Power surges through you as sapphire ribbons circle your form.

“Go and eliminate blasphemy.”

Hal makes using a ring look much easier, and as you shakily take flight, you wish he was here to help you. Here and now, it’s your turn to help him. Hal Jordan hurt you, but he doesn’t deserve to die on an alien planet. As you fly, you use the ring to scan the planet. It happens without much conscious thought, and when you find the prison, you raise your arms and increase your flight speed.

“Hal?” you whisper at the first opening.

“Pipe down,” a woman calls from inside the prison.

The prison is full of men from different planets, but you don’t allow yourself to think about what will happen to them. They need help, but your mission is to free Hal and Kilowog. When the bars beside you shake, you follow the sound of impact around another corner. A large, green bulldozer is ramming into a wall of bars, and you shake your head in concerned amusement before raising your own ring. You form a pink coffee cup, which causes the green machine to disappear.

“Whoa,” Hal says in place of greeting. His eyes are wide at the sight of you, and he asks, “Is that a new outfit?”

“Shut up,” you demand. You haven’t looked down at the skin-tight pink bodysuit more than once, but the mention of it makes you shift uncomfortably. “We need to get out of here.”

“The door won’t open. I’ve tried everything.”

You grab a bar and open the door with minimal effort.

“Your ring’s the wrong color,” you say.

Hal and Jordan step out, and you lower your gaze to the ring momentarily. You shake your hand, and all of the cells open. The men walk out before running for cover.

“How do I get this ring off, Hal?” you ask.

“You have to prove you love and are loved at the same time, with the same person,” Kilowog answers.

“How do you know that?” Hal asks.

“Did you mean any of it? What you said at Ferris Air?” you interrupt.

Hal turns toward you and nods. “I meant all of it.”

You look into his eyes, and he sees that yours have a depth and a hurt that he missed. The hurt is his fault, but what lies behind it caused him to fall in love with you. With your eyes locked, you think about everything that Hal has done to prove he loves you, and then admit to yourself that despite his seeming betrayal and how he used you, you love him, too. The sapphire ring hits the prison floor with a clang and Hal rushes to adjust the atmosphere for you.

“You did it!” he cheers before pulling you into his arms.

“Hal, something’s wrong,” Kilowog says.

You try to agree, but everything goes black before you can.

“Ma’am are you okay?” someone asks above you.

Your head pounds until you open your eyes. The Coast City sky above you is clear and bright, and you sit up quickly at the sight and feel of earth. There’s a crowd around you, but Hal and Kilowog are nowhere in sight.

“Where’s Green Lantern?” you ask.

“He hasn’t been seen in days,” the man kneeling beside you says. “Did you hit your head?”

“I have to go,” you say as you push yourself up to stand.

Several people yell for you to wait, but you run past the coffee shop where you first met Hal on your way home. There’s a list in your mind of things you need to do. First, you have to find some comfort, and then you can worry about Hal and where he is.

“Don’t you people know how to make a phone call?” Hal complains when he realizes he and Kilowog are on Oa. “We would’ve come if you’d just sent an invite.”

“Quiet, Green Lantern Hal Jordan of Sector 2814,” Ganthet demands. “This is a trial, not a debate.”

“A trial for what?” Kilowog asks. “Bein’ imprisoned?”

“The Intergalactic Court sent you to find a woman guilty of murder, yet you allowed her to take you to Zamaron. She has been sent back to Earth, where Green Lantern Guy Gardner will do what you failed to do,” Sayd explains. “Failing in a mission that was requested is punishable to the full extent of Rimbor law.”

“We didn’t fail!” Hal argues. “She is innocent! She saved us from the Sapphires; would a killer do that?”

“Have you any proof?”

Kilowog grumbles before summoning a hologram from his ring. A blurry video of your arrival in the prison plays for the Guardians, who then turn to one another and whisper.

“Can you send me that video?” Hal whispers as he leans toward Kilowog.

“Focus, poozer,” he replies.

“The Guardians have decided to investigate this occurrence in more depth. Green Lanterns Jordan and Kilowog, you are free to go. Be prepared to return to Oa at a moment’s notice,” Ganthet announces.

“Go,” Kilowog demands. “Or you can watch that video in your dreams.”

“I think I’ll do that either way,” Hal says before disappearing into the clouds.

“Where are you, Hal Jordan?” you ask as you click another search result.

Plenty of people have claimed to see Green Lantern today, but none of them are your Flyboy. Someone knocks, and you ignore it as you add “Coast City” to the search again. The knocking continues, and you groan as you stand.

“Coming!” you yell.

“Hi, pretty girl,” Hal says as you pull the door open.

“Hi,” you reply softly. “You know, when I called you this morning, I didn’t expect anything.”

“I’ll always be here for you. You can hate me, tell me you never felt anything, but I’m yours.”

“Hal, I-“

“No. Look, I’m not going to pretend like I know what I’m doing or that I’m relationship material. But I love you, and I will help you no matter when or where. Not because of the ring that I wear, but because of who you are and how wildly in love I am with you.”

You raise your brows as he speaks, and when he finishes you say, “Love. Do you know what that means?”

“You know I do.”

“Then you know I feel the same way. But I can’t let you use me again, Hal.”

“I never thought you were guilty, and I was trying to convince the Guardians to let it go. I’m sorry that I failed and got you into even more trouble.”

“It worked out,” you remind him. “Because I love you.”

Hal smiles and grabs the jacket you’re wearing – his jacket, you remember suddenly – to pull you against his chest. “Thank you,” he murmurs before kissing you.

You grip Hal’s shirt and return the kiss, giving and receiving love at once. Your life hasn’t been short of love since Hal walked into it.

“I love you,” you say as you pull back. “I’m sorry for reacting like I did.”

“I don’t blame you for that. Walking away wasn’t,” Hal hesitates before finishing, “It didn’t change anything for me. Except make me hate myself a little for hurting you.”

“Consider it forgiven and forgotten.”

“You,” Hal says. “I choose you. Tell me that you want me to prove it and I will throw this ring into the sky and let it find a new bearer.”

You purse your lips as you consider how the ring works. When Hal raises his hand, you wrap both of your hands over his knuckles and the ring.

“This ring is part of you, so I love it, too,” you promise.

“You really do love me,” Hal says with a smile.

“Obviously.” You gesture dramatically to his jacket on your arms to reiterate your point.

Hal leans forward and drops his voice to ask, “Enough to find a sapphire outfit? To remember old times?”

You roll your eyes before walking farther into your home. “You wish, Flyboy. The jacket’s as good as it gets for you. At least until you put a ring on my finger.”

[jazziejax]

𝐀𝐛𝐛𝐨𝐭𝐭 𝐄𝐥𝐞𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐚𝐫𝐲

𝐌𝐬.𝐋𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐥

Pairings- Black!OC x Abbott Elementary Cast, later Black!OC x Manny (Can be read as x Reader though!)

Summary- S1E1-Light Bulb with Naoya Lovel

Warnings- Swearing, kids, mixed race reader( those aren't warnings really, just what to expect)

Jazzie'sNotes!- let me know what you guys think!! I've been really obsessed with Abbott Elementary recently and I'm contemplating if I want to write S1&S2 just to get to the Manny season. I want to get there fast but I know what won't be possible with two seasons worth of writing. Let me know what you guys think I should do.

Word Count- 5,680

“Ten seconds!” Jacob yelled over his shoulder at the people in the room. Melissa and Barbra rushed over to the sitting area in front of the television that played the action news. Naoya sitting the opposite of them on the small couch.

“Oh, we love Action News! Get in early just to watch it.” Melissa said to the cameras. “It just really calms you down after wanting to take a wrench to someone's side mirror in traffic.” She beamed as if what she said was totally normal.

“But the Philadelphia region continues to suffer, temperature in the mid-90s with a heat index approaching 100…” The television said as they all sat and watched.

“Now I’m a proud married Christian woman and I love my husband. But there’s something about that Jim Gardner.” Barba gushed to the cameras. “That non-regional diction.” The woman was practically blushing just at the thought of the man.

“It is so important to support and acknowledge local journalism, okay?” Jacob started. “There’s no agenda here. This is—This is one going, in the streets, powerful stuff.” He explained seriously.

“I get in early just to see my aunt Magnolia on the screen. She’s a news anchor and I like telling her what I like and dislike about her outfits every morning.” Naoya nodded nonchalantly.

“Wouldn’t want to see that dog in traffic.” Jim Fardner said as they all laughed while watching a little Pomeranian dog drive a toy car.

“Yes, Jim.” Barbra agreed, not seeing the confused look Noaya gave her from the side.

“I like the news because that’s when I can say whatever I want and nobody asks any questions.” Mr.Johnson told the cameras with a smirk.

“I’m taking a personal day.” The old man said as he entered the room, looking at the backs of everyone’s heads as they continued to watch the morning news. “Going fishing with my friends. Anyways, toilet papers in the closet.” He said before walking out.

“I hear him.” Naoya nodded, giving the people behind the camera a small smile. “I hear everything. Plus he is a hilarious old man and I wanna know all his secrets. I am this close to cracking him.” She said with an evil smirk making its way into her face as she lined her fingers together to indicate a small amount.

“I saw Jim Gardner once. At the Chipotle.” Barbra smiled bashfully, not taking her eyes away from the television. “Ooh, he orders a bowl so handsomely.” She gushed. Naoya gave the older woman another look, this time more concern than confusion.

It was only a moment later that Jacob was going through the break room fridge, poking around for something. “Who’s branzino is this?” He asked, holding the fish dish in his hands. “This is a very powerfully smelling fish to put in a shared fridge.” The boy complained as politely as he could, closing the ice box with a disgusted look on his face.

“Don’t touch it,” Melissa said looking up from her phone. “I’m making it right at my cousin Annette’s.” She made her way over to have a seat in her usual spot next to Barb. “She thinks she’s the best cook in the family. I’m gonna show her in a non-threatening way. Imma look cuter than her too.” She smirked.

“I have a distant cousin named Annette,” Naoya said, finishing up the delicious breakfast sandwich that she had every morning. “She was psychotic though, used to put poison in the condiments at restaurants.” The younger woman stated, looking off in thought as the rest stared at her in disbelief. “I haven’t seen her in ages. Don’t want to either, she was butt ugly.” She then took a sip of her orange juice.

Just as she finished, Janine walked into the room, putting her bag down on the table in front of Melissa and Barbra. “Guys, the lights in the back hallways have been out for weeks.”

“Thank you for the update,” Melissa said as she applied more makeup.

“What are you wearing?” Barbra asked, looking her up and down.

“And we need to do something about it. Okay?” The short woman tried to sound demanding but it didn’t come off that way. “Uh, Melina, from your class.” She started, pointing at Melissa. “Yeah, she was afraid to come to school this morning. Said it looked like “The Shining.” And I don’t even get how she knows that reference.”

“She loves “The Shining,” Melissa stated.

“It’s a classic movie.” Jacob chimed in.

The camera panes Naoya’s way, who looks at them at their movements. ‘Never seen it.’ She mouthed with a shrug of her shoulders.

“This isn’t okay, alright?” Janine stressed. “And I already talked to Mr.Johnson and he said that there isn’t anything he can do.

“What do you want us to do about it?” Barbra asked the girl tiredly.

“I mean, it can’t be hard. It’s just screwing in a few new bulbs.” The small woman stated.

“Janine, just worry about what can be controlled.” Barbra cut her off.

“Exactly.” Melissa agreed. “All we can do on a hot day like this is our own jobs, anyway.”

“I know what’s right,” Ava said as she barged into the room and made her way over to the coffee machine. “Why is it February and hotter than the devil’s booty hole outside?” She asked.

“Climate Change.” Jacob and Naoya said at the same time, causing them to point at one another in recognition while Ava shot both of them a tired look. “We are living in the middle of its disastrous effects. The permafrost in Russia—” He was about to rant before Ava cut him off.

“Nerd.” The woman said between coughs, which sounded more like a laugh. Naoya rolled her eyes while Jacob just turned back to what he was doing.

“Ava.” Janine started, walking up to the woman who was still laughing from her childish joke. “Can someone from the city come and check on the back hallway lights?”

“Girl, no.” The woman answered, her usual judgmental look on her face. “Do I look like the Kool-Aid man?” She asked, halving around the room. Her eyes stopped on Naoya, who raised her eyebrows in question. “Don’t answer that.” She pointed at the woman, who just shrugged it off. “I don’t have enough juice to manipulate the inner workings of city hall.” The principal continued, looking back at Janine and scoffing before making her way out. “They’ll probably come in the summer.” She said as the bell rang.

“I’m the summer?” Janine asked after doing a double take at her words. But the woman was long gone and the others were making their way out of the room to their classes.

“Tough break. Want some egg white bites?” Jacob asked, easing closer to Janine and holding out a plate. The solemn woman looked up at him with a new determination. “No. I don’t have time to eat.” She said before walking out. Jacob was mid-bite when he turned and faced Naoya, who was putting her bag over her shoulder. And before the man could even speak, the woman stopped him. “No, I don’t want your peasant food, Jacob. It’s insulting that you would ask someone as cultured as myself such a question.” She started before strutting out of the break room. Jacob stood there in disbelief.

“It’s just egg white bites, you put them in the microwave.”

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“Janine, what on earth are you doing on that thing?” Naoya asked as she rushed down the hall to the smaller woman who stood on a ladder. She had just come from using the restroom and leaving a class of a bunch of nine to ten-year-olds unattended for even a few seconds could lead to chaos. She didn’t know that chaos would be the grown woman who was the height of a nine to ten-year-old.

“I’m going to fix this broken light.” The woman said determinedly, only a step above the floor in the heightening tool. Naoya made it next to her, seeing the woman wasn’t doing much movement. She placed her hands on her hips, a smug look on her face. “Janine, you are not meant to go to those heights. God gave you your stature for a reason. Plus you’re terrified.”

“I am not terrified.” The woman said, shooting a glance at her. At that, Naoya gave her a knowing look before ushering the woman to go ahead. Janine nodded and looked back at the matter, fear gripping her. She gulped looking back at Naoya. “Okay, I am terrified but I’m gonna do it because I’m on a mission.” She said before carefully making her way up the ladder.

“If this backfires, you buy my dinner,” Naoya asked, after checking in on her classroom through the glass door, seeing them still doing their reading time. At that, Janine gave a confused look to the air, since she was too scared to look down. “Uh, no. This bet is not in my face, at all.”

“Well, at least have some faith in yourself, goodness gracious.”

At that, Janine continued, taking the cover off the lights and continuing to tweak at the wires. “See, look at this. It was just a loose wire.” The woman said, briefly glancing down at the people below her. She then connected the wire with another one, watching as the light stopped flickering. But it didn’t stop for long, the bulbs brightening before bursting in her face.

“Oh!” The woman screamed as she ducked:

“Janine!” Naoya yelled from below her, hosing her arms out in case the woman fell. Instantly, all the rooms were filled with the sounds of confusion and discomfort. The doors opened as the teachers exited.

“Oh, God! Can someone please help me down?” Janine asked, her voice shaking from the fear of the height she was at and the bulb exploding before her.

“And why would we do that since you caused this situation?” Melissa asked as she propped her door open.

“Okay, I didn’t know doing this would cause all the power to go out.” Janie tried to justify, still clutching onto the ladder.

“Well, the power is not all out,” Barbra stated. “It’s on in some places and off in others.”

“It’s off in my room,” Gregory said.

“On in the gym.” The coach said tiredly, slugging up to the group.

“Yeah, it’s off in my room,” Melissa spoke back up. “Thank God we got the A/C or we’d all be meltin’ already.”

“Okay, well before anyone freaks out, the best thing to do in these situations is just stay calm and—” Naoya started as she looked around the group but was silenced by the frantic voice of their terrible and terrified principal.

“Okay! This is it, y'all! The End Times!” The woman said as she rounded the corner in a hurry, a light strapped to her head. “It’s three months early, but it’s happening!” She said, as she closed in on them, giving the closest thing to her a tousle, which happened to be the very thing that was holding Janine up.

“Aah, don’t shake the ladder.” The smaller woman yelled from up top.

“Gregory is the only person that can stay in my bunker, so stop asking.” The crazed principal continued. Naoya’s head jerked back at her words, shocked at the woman’s blatant advancements that were harassment at this point.

“Ava,” Barbra started, holding her arms out in a non-offensive manner to calm the woman. “It is just a partial power outage. Alright, listen up everyone—.”

“Listen to Barbra, y'all!” The doomsday woman yelled, still latched into the latter out of fear.

“Are you kidding me?” Janie asked, clasping at the top of the ladder for support as it shook again.

“This is what we’re gonna do.” Barbra started again. “Everybody without power, please, head to the gym.”

“Head!” Ava chimed in again.

“We will conduct classes there until this is all fixed. It is not ideal—.” She stressed, looking up at the culprit on the ladder. “But it will work.”

“You hear her. Let’s go!” Ava demanded with a nod.

“Guys!” Janie called from the top of the ladder, causing them all to look up at her. “I-I just wanna I-I’m sorry, everybody.” The woman said nervously. “I just thought if I could get up here and get this done then we wouldn’t have to wait and..”

“And look where it landed us, baby girl.” Barbra cut in. “Everybody please head to the gym. We’ve got bigger fish to fry now.”

“Oh, Jesus! My branzino! Everybody out of the way. Out of the way!” Melissa yelled as she sprinted down the hall filled with children.

“Well, if someone can please help me! I feel like I’m one wobble away from death!” Janie begged from where she fluted the top of the ladder. At that, Naoya walked closer, raising her hand to help guide the woman down but was intercepted by Gregory's large arms. The two people glanced at each other, unexpected by the other one's move. Naoya waved her hand, signaling him to help instead. “Thank you,” Jannie said, too spooked to even pay attention to the odd interaction before her. “Okay, give me your hand. Take your time.” Gregory soothed, his large hand latched onto Janine’s. When he was turned away from her, she gave the camera an odd look, scratching the back of her ear. “Whenever you're ready.”

“Okay.” Janine sighed. There was a moment of silence between them all as they waited. “Am I doing it?” Janie asked, just standing there.

“No, honey,” Naoya spoke up, raising an eyebrow at such an odd question.

“Okay, let’s do a count of three.” Janine reiterated, adjusting herself to prepare.

“Okay,” Gregory started. “One, two…three.” He finished and the woman still wasn’t moving. “One more time.” He said.

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“This is all my fault,” Janie said as she looked around the gymnasium at all the students. The shock clock then went off, the constant noise startling Gregory, who paused his class to speak to the woman. “Yeah, you probably shouldn’t have tried to do the job of a newly graduated DeVry student, but this is okay.” The man sassed, with an awkward smile as she gestured around the room. Melissa was teaching her kids the best she should with something in flashcards, while Barbra was teaching her students to tell time.

Naoya was on the other side of the room, all her students sitting in rows with their eyes closed and taking deep breaths, with her in the front as a group meditation process. She chose this alternative instead of their gym scheduled gym activities, so the kids weren’t accidentally hitting four-year-olds in the head with basketballs.

Janine sighed, going to pick up her phone that pinged. She read the messages she got from Tariq, and that pissed her off even more. Well, it wasn’t helping her attitude for today.

“I made this mess, and I need to fix this.” She said again, looking around at the distressed room of teachers.

“Okay, but fix this how? Gregory asked her. “It seems very outside of your skill set. You should probably just wait for somebody to get to it—.” He tried to reiterate what Barbra had been saying all along and Janine was not having it.

“I don’t want to wait for someone to get to it!” Janine hissed. “You know, our children have needs that deserve to be met. And I’m going to fix this. Nothing is going to get in my way.” She said determined.

“What if you have to climb another ladder?” Gregory finally asked. “Those seem very tricky for you.”

“No.” That was all Janie gave him. “Not today.

Sometime later, the bell rang, signaling to everyone that it was much time.

“Aren’t you going to lunch, Janine?” Melissa asked as she, Barbra, Gregory, and Naoya made their way to the gymnasium doors.

“Uh, no, I’m actually gonna stay and help the lunch ladies with lunch.” The shorter woman tried to find a reasonable excuse.

“The lunch ladies don’t like you, Janine. They never say hello back.” Naoya said, crossing her arms as she looked at the woman across from her. “So, is that what you’re really doing?”

“Yes!” She answered. “And maybe trying to get the lights back on.” She rushed out at the end, hoping no one heard. At that, the two older women groaned.

“Would you give that a rest?” Melissa started. What do you want? To make the whole school blow up?”

“No!” The woman said as she folded her arms. “Plus, I can’t. Luckily the school was built as a bomb shelter in WWII, so…”

“Let it go.” Barbra practically begged the girl before her before she and the rest of the teachers started walking away.

“Okay, I will.” The woman told them, watching them exit. She and Gregory held long eye contact, both knowing the truth deep down. After they were gone, Janine looked back down at her phone, not paying attention to her friends next to her.

“You’re not gonna let it go, are you?” Jacob spoke up.

“No, I’m not gonna let it go, Jacob, okay?” She said, giving the two of them a look. “I need to right my wrongs.”

“Okay, we’ll count me out.” He said, waving her off.

“I never counted you in,” Janine said to him, confused about where he got that from.

“Well, then count me in.” He restated. “Because I don’t have any lunch plans.”

“Okay.” She sighed. She then looked at the woman next to him, her purse on her shoulder. “Weren’t you going to lunch?” She asked.

“You owe me lunch, remember? Your plan backfired.” She reminded the woman from earlier with a shrug. Janine sighed, turning away from them and walking, knowing they would follow. “That’s not how bets work, Naoya. Both people have to agree.”

“That’s how my bets work and you owe me food, woman!”

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“This is just like the one in my apartment, this is going to be easy,” Janine stated as the three of them made their way to the breaker box that was in the custodian closet. “Me and Tariq have to go in that thing like three times a month.” She said them behind her, Jacob holding the flashlight above her head.

“Maybe you should move.” The man suggested.

“Yeah. Tariq says he is “practicing” his credit score.” Janine struggled out and she pushed to get the metal box open. “Apparently 380 isn’t a good—.” She continued to struggle, her words getting lost in her. “Let me try,” Naoya said as she softly nudged the smaller woman out of the way. She gave the box a pull and the thing popped open. She turned and smiled at the two. “I loosened it,” Jannie said, trying to save face.

“Sure, Jan,” Naoya said, going back to looking in the box. “Oh..” she said, looking at the jumbled mess of wires and switches.

“Oh, no,” Janie said, looking at the same thing. “Don’t touch. Not even a little bit.” She read out loud, giving the camera a certain look. “Uh, okay. What’s that say?”

“End of the Road? It’s so hard to say goodbye?” Naoya read out loud, looking at the labels next to some of the switches. “What? Motownphil—These are Boyz II Men songs.” She deadpanned, turning to the rest of them.

“Why?” Jannie asked, moving to stand in front of the box herself.

Jacob chuckled. “It’s ironic ‘cause I’m on Bended Knee.” He joked, giving the camera a brief look. Naoya genuinely snickered while Janie just laughed awkwardly. “Heh. Okay.” She said before going back to the wires. “Oh God, why is that one hot?” Offering them a glance of concern. “Let me try this one.” She said and just a flip of a switch caused a giant spark to erupt, the trio screamed and jumped back to dodge the sparks as best as they could.

“What in the world.”

“What going on?”

Melissa and Barba exclaimed as she entered the hot and dark school building with children running around. “It’s so hot I’m gonna frizz.” Just then, Janie and Jacob came out of the appliance closet, their hair a mess from the static they endured. The three teachers who left for lunch automatically knew who the culprit for everything was.

“Janine! What did you do?!” Barbra asked, quite fed up with the younger woman. “Looking like ‘who shot John.’”

“Barbra, look, I know you told me to let it go, but I couldn’t. Jacob and Naoya—.” At that, she looked back to see where the woman was but she was nowhere to be found. “Jacob helped me open the breaker.” She was quick to accuse.

“I ran away as soon as the sparks started flying. I was looking out for myself.” The woman shrugged as she leaned against the wall next to her. “Plus, I wasn’t about to get yelled at by Barb for this whole mess.”

“It was a chance to support a strong Black woman.” The man next to her breathed out, in a state of shock, quite literally.

“The breaker?!” Melissa asked. “Janine! You can’t do this stuff! What had you come to work today and lose your mind?”

“Look, I—.” She tried to find something to say. “I just have—she gulped—I feel lightheaded.” She said as she swayed.

“Ohh, okay,” Barbra said worriedly as they all closed in on the smaller girl.

“Did you eat today, because I know you didn’t have lunch,” Melissa asked the girl worriedly.

“And you didn’t have any breakfast,” Jacob stated, his tone showing his concern for the woman’s wellbeing. Janine couldn’t even say anything, her balance was off and her mind was delirious.

“Okay, we’re losing her,” Melissa yelled, easing up on the girl. “Do I have your consent to slap you?” At that, Janine fell backward into Gregory’s arms just as Ava and Naoya rounded the corner. “There she goes,” Melissa said over the shocked screams of her colleagues. “She’s out.”

“Yall feel this heat?” Ava asked, just now seeing the sight of the woman on the floor before her. “Oh my God! She’s pale like a zombie! You know, they eat the hottest people first, let me back my tasty ass up.” Ava said, going back to where she came from down the hall. At her stupid words, Naoya was tempted to follow her but snapped out of it when she saw Janine on the floor.

“Uh, okay! I’m gonna go see if I can get some water out of the fridge. Hopefully, it’s still cold.” Naoya said before running off.

“Oh my God, my branzino!” Melissa yelled, moving to push Barb back.” “Excuse me, Barb. She’ll be okay!” She yelled as she pushed the older woman out of her way and jumped over the unconscious woman.

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Once Janine woke up from her little coma, the coach told her that all the kids and teachers were outside. She walked out to see all of them playing in the water that was sprouting from the fire hydrants while the teachers lunged in chairs. “Oh, look who’s back in the land of the living,” Melissa said once she saw the small woman exit the school.

“Who opens the fire hydrant?” Janine asked

“Well, as Melissa would say, snitches get stitches,” Barbra said.

“It was Naoya,” Jacob whispered to his shorter friend, pointing over at said woman who was playing in the water with the children. She had her bat at her side, leaning her weight on it as she splashed the kids who came near her to throw water her way.

“That is correct.” Melissa started again. “But I am not talking to you on account of you killing my branzino.” She said, before leaning back in her seat. Barbra gave her a look and cleared her throat. Melissa looked at the woman from under her shades and sighed a little before sitting back up. Barbra then got up from her seat, allowing Janine to take it.

“So that’s it, huh?” Janine asked, looking around at the kids. “I , uh, gave it my all, passed out, and ruined the school day?”

“Oh, you tanked,” Melissa told her. “You tanked Janine. You took the whole school down with you. It was impressive.” She pressed, knowing she was pushing the woman’s buttons.

“Look, I know. I should’ve stopped. I’m sorry.” Janine sighed. “I just felt so bad when I saw that look on Melina’s face this morning.”

“You don’t think it kills us to see those faces in the morning?” Melissa asked her. “What, are we made of stone? You’re not the first person to feel things, kid. We care.”

It was silent for a moment as Janine thought over the woman’s words. “How do you and Barbra stop yourselves from caring too much if that’s a thing.”

“Because it’s the opposite.” Melissa smiled at the girl as she took off her shades. “We care so much we refuse to burn out. If we burn out, who’s here for these kids? That’s who you gotta take care of yourself.”

“Yeah, what’s with you today Nini?” Both women jumped at the sound of Naoya’s voice, while the woman just stood behind them with her bat. “You’re normally bananas, but…” She trailed off, waving at the girl's aura.

“Uh, I don’t know. Just some stuff at home, I think.” Janine shrugged with an answer.

“Oh, okay,” Melissa said with a nod. “See, that’s the other thing me and Barbra learned. All that at-home stuff—you gotta leave it at the door. Otherwise, you open up a whole nother Panera’s box of problems.”

“I think you mean Pandora’s box,” Naoya told the woman sitting in front of her.

“Nah, I’m pretty sure it’s Panera’s box.” She nodded, while Janine and Naoya both gave the camera a look.

Later on that day, Naoya was in her room in the process of changing the clothes she had on into some that she kept in her closet. She enjoyed playing in the water with the kids but she was not going to go home wet. As she was in the process of changing, she got a phone call. Looking down at her phone, she saw the contact and quickly answered the phone.

“Hello, Adona.” The girl sighed into the phone as she pulled a new shirt over her head.

“Oh, well don’t sound so pleased.” The feminine voice over the phone said to her. Naoya rolled her eyes, as she opened the drawer of her desk and pulled out a plastic store bag. She offered the camera a glance, knowing they were probably thinking as to why she kept so many plastic bags in her drawer. But all she could offer them now was a shrug as the voice over the phone continued.

“Anyways, how are you?”

“What do you want, Adona?” Naoya spat, stuffing her semi-wet clothes into the plastic bag.

“What? I can’t see how my own sister is doing?” The woman said over the phone, the hurt in their voice obviously sarcastic.

“No, but I know you. And I know that you only call when you need money. Money for something other than your child.” The younger girl snapped over the phone. All she got in response was a sigh and some shuffling from the other end.

“You know, you don't have to rub it in.” Adona started, and Naoya rolled her eyes at the woman’s words, knowing this conversation was about to go to the argument they always had. “This all would have been so much easier if the rest of us weren’t left out of her will.”

“That’s not my fucking fault, Adona. I tell you that every time you call. Do you think I want the burden of you and the others calling me every month for some fucking bill for me to pay? Not to ask how I’m doing?” Naoya spat at her sister over the phone. She could feel her eyes start to sting, she was never the best at arguing when it came to her family. She’d been called sensitive all her life and it rang true every time she talked to her siblings.

“ “The others”? That’s what you call us? You’re family?” That was all Adona could say back. Naoya rolled her eyes and let out a scoff, pulling the phone away from her face as she sniffed and held her head back, trying to stop her tear flow. After only a few quick seconds, she brought the phone back to her face. “Uh, I can already see where this is going, so I’m gonna end it here. Just send the amount and I’ll talk to you some other time. Take care.” She said before pressing the red button on her screen to end the call.

She placed her phone in her back pocket and moved around her room to gather her things, trying her best to occupy her mind from what just ensued. She was so in her head that she forgot the cameras were there. And she didn’t hear the voice of Gregory at her door.

“Naoya?” He called out to her.

She looked up at the sound of his voice as she placed her things into her bag. “Oh, Hello Gregory.” She smiled, her face showing none of the emotions she was feeling.

“You’ve eaten?” He asked, just standing in the doorway of her classroom.

“Uh, no, actually. Janine was supposed to buy me lunch because I bet that her plan would backfire.” The woman said as she placed her things in her arms. At that, Gregory gave her a questioning look. Naoya raised her hands in surrender. “I know, I sound like a terrible friend. But it’s not that I don’t believe in Janine, I just know how to black a bet. Get it from my father.” The girl shrugged. She and Gregory both laughed lightly. And when it died down, they just started at one another, the air between them oddly peaceful.

“But, uh, are you offering?” She asked, looking at the man before her.

“Uh, yeah. I was going to ask Janine too.” He said, pointing his thumb in the direction of the said woman’s room.

“Cool! Let’s go.” She said with a genuine smile, causing the man to smile at her as well. They walked out and over to Janine’s room, where it looked like the woman was doing something on her phone. Gregory knocked on her door to get her attention. “Hey.” He said.

“Hey,” Jaimie said, looking at the two.

“Have you eaten?” He asked.

“Oh. No. The um, lunch lady gave me that can of peaches but no can opener, so, no.” She chuckled, pointing at the can on her desk.

“What? No fair! You’re so lucky. Well, besides the whole can opener situation. ” Naoya said jokingly.

“Alright, we’ll, you wanna go get something to eat? With me?” Gregory said before Naoya lightly cleared her throat. “With us?” Gregory was quick to reiterate. Naoya nodded, offering the slightly flustered older man a brief look.

“Oh,” Janine said, looking between the two. “I was gonna wait for my boyfriend to finish his show to eat…” She said. Naoya nodded at her words, understanding where she was coming from. Well, understanding as best as she could because she’d never wait to eat for a man. But maybe that was love. She caught the way Gregory’s posture changed at Janin’s words out of the corner of her eye. She didn’t say anything but she did give me a crazy side-eye, hoping he noticed.

“But…no.” The shorter woman started back up with a laugh. “I’m hungry now, so I should eat now, right?”

“That’s typically how hunger works, yeah.” Gregory played along.

“Right! Normal people eat at normal times, like…4:00.” She said, pointing over at the clock on her wall.

“Yeah. All true.” Gregory said with a nod before smiling. “So, let’s go eat.”

“Let’s. Okay.” Janine said with an equally large smile before moving to grab her things. At that, Naoya turned around to head out the door, not wanting to be in the middle of an obvious love fest. She gave the cameras outside a knowing look, a large smirk on her face.

Seconds later, the two of them walked out of the room, Naoya joining them to go down the hall. On their way, they ended up meeting Jacob.

“Oh, hey guys, what up?” The man said.

“We’re just headed to get something to eat,” Gregory answered.

“Oh, great, I’ll join.” The man just inserted himself, not catching the looks thrown his way by the three. “After school crew.” He continued.

“Ooh, “After School Crew.” I like that.” Janine smiled. They all ended up stopping at the lights coming on within the school. They looked over to see Mr.Johnson in the supply closet, standing next to the breaker machine in his fishing gear.

“You touch the lights, didn’t you, Janine?” He asked, shooting an accusatory look the woman’s way.

“Yes,” Janine answered with a defeated look.

“Good thing I got me a system.” The man told her, flicking the breaker box closed. “I’ll make love to you. Like you want me to.” He continued to sing. This caused them to all sigh and continue walking. Naoya stayed behind, a fond smile on her lips as she watched the old man. When he caught the sight of the woman still there, he paused and looked at her.

“You have a good fishing trip?” She asked the man, crossing her arms over another. The man looked at the girl kind of shocked that she asked and that she knew.

“Yeah. Yeah, I actually did.” He said, offering her a smile of his own. Naoya nodded at his words before walking away, following the crew that left her. Mr.Johnson looked at the spot she left, a fond smile on his face as she continued to sing the song.

[kriffingstars]

Johnny MacTavish; Price has a trophy wife?

pairing: Johnny MacTavish x Price!Reader summary: Johnny makes a fool of himself, but it's all worth it because he made a pretty girl laugh warnings: none :) a/n: anon, thank you for the prompt! Once again asks are open, what do you guys want to see from Johnny and Reader (or platonic Price)

Price's Niece Masterlist

Johnny has been to Price's a number of times, but the front garden has never looked so put together the whole time John has lived there.

Probably hired a Gardner or something, he doesn't peg Price as someone with a green thumb and it's very evident that lots of hard work has gone into the small green space.

It’s nice he notes, slightly rural village, close enough to the city, but still far enough to bring a sense of peace, the new additions make the place feel a bit more homely.

He raps on the door a couple of times before admiring the large lavender bush that now sits next to the gate, the calming scent a bit stronger now, after he brushed past it on his way up to the door.

When you open the door, he’s standing right on your doorstep, hands in his pockets, not paying much attention.

"Hi, Soap is it?" your soft voice cuts through his observation, and he turns to face you.

He was expecting his gruff Captain to answer the door, not a gorgeous, and obviously, much younger woman.

He clears his throat as he takes you in, radient smile and bright eyes are the standout things he admires as his eyes scan over you.

"Come on in. John's just in his office on a call, he'll be down in a minute," you inform him, as you lead him through the hallway into the kitchen.

That's when you tell him your name, and he says it aloud, liking the way it feels as it rolls on his tongue.

He doesn't know it just yet but the way he says it makes your heart flutter just a little bit.

As you pop the kettle on for the three of you his thoughts wander slightly, trying to come up with a good way to ask about your relationship with his CO.

Maybe he doesn't know Price as well as he thinks he does, because never in a million years would he think the man, out of all people, would have a gorgeous, very young, trophy wife.

The lads are never going to believe this.

You carry on with polite conversation until Johnny changes the subject slightly abruptly.

"Sorry is John your husband or…?”

As soon as the words come out of his mouth he's mentally kicking himself. The subject change is like whiplash, you were just asking him how he's enjoying leave and he's just rather rudely ignored what you've just asked him.

Your shoulders begin to heave up and down, as you let out a large belt of laughter. Your face scrunching as you slap a palm over your mouth to mute the noise coming out of it.

Whatever reaction he was expecting, that is not it.

"Oh my gosh, no!" you manage to squeak out between fits of laughter, wiping a loose tear from the outside of your eye.

"He's my uncle," you explain, once your laughter dies down. Adding on about how you're living with him whilst you're at university.

By the time Price finishes his call, and makes his way downstairs Johnny is beet red. It's an unusual sight, but he doesn't address it.

In all honesty, he was a bit apprehensive about the two of you meeting, he knows what Soap is like, and he doesn't want him laying on the charm with you. One of the many reasons why he left out the fact that you were now living with him.

"You'll never guess what Johnny just asked me," you giggle, once the greetings are over.

And now that he knows you're not in fact, Price's secret trophy wife, he basks in the way that even if he did royally embarrass himself, he still made an impression and made you laugh that hard.

[gatorbites-imagines]

Recently started getting into green lantern comics and saw you write a lot for them! Could you do a green lantern of your choice x subspace?

Green Space

Drabble

Guy Gardner x male reader

I love green lanterns 🗣️ 🗣️ Reader is a star sapphire, cuz hehe.

Uh, tw for sounding ig, cuz I like it and wanted to add it 🧍 🧍

Guy panted as the pink construct holding his body only seemed to tighten, his arms trapped behind his body and his legs forced apart by what looked like a spreader bar. He was naked except for his usual green vest, something you had ordered him to keep on since you liked how it stretched across his wide chest, and made his arms look bigger when he flexed against your constructs holding him still.

Your eyes met as he lifted his head to look at you where you were standing between his thighs, the mischievous glint in your eyes making him shiver, his muscular thighs tensing when you gloved hands run along them. Guy already felt lightheaded and floaty, so close to that sweet headspace he craved after a long difficult mission, so when you had showed up in that tight black and pink suit, looking ready to devour him whole, he had willingly given himself over.

A noise similar to a whimper leaves his lips as your gloves near his aching cock that’s laying thick and hard against his torso, leaving a pool of precum near the tip. Your gloves are slick with lube as you rub your thumbs over the underside of his length, making Guy whine as his head drops backwards, only supported by the pink construct holding him in place.

His abs tense and twitch as his noises rise in volume as your slick hand wraps around his length, stroking it from root to tip in slow calculated movements. Guy tenses as he feels you pulling his length upright, shakily lifting his head to watch as his head feels foggy in the way he desires, his lip bitten between his teeth as he tries to breathe normally, knowing what you are about to do.

A shiver of anticipation runs through his body as a pink construct appears between your fingers in the shape of a slim rod, similar to the toys he knows are buried under his bed at home. Your lips press against his lower stomach as you rub lube against his tip, making sure to get is slit coated before repeating the process with the rod.

Guy can’t even comprehend the words of mumbled praise that leaves your lips as the rod presses against his slit, the world around him growing blurry as he whines and whimpers, hips twitching against the unyielding hold of the pink constructs you had conjured.

A high-pitched whine tumbles out from between his lips as he feels the rub pressing further down his slit, traveling down his length, giving him the familiar full feeling he can get no other way, only pushing him further down into that headspace where everything is soft and warm and so good.

Muffled words he can only assume are praise keeps falling from your lips as you push and pull the rod slowly, dragging it out of his slit before pushing it back down, letting it deeper every pass, until finally its bottomed out, digging right into his prostate like he craves the most.

Guy doesn’t even notice as you move from between his legs to stand near his head, as the world has become so very small, focusing only on the rod inside his slit pressing against his prostate, and how it makes his mind seem to float away. His eyes flutter open when your gloveless hand runs through his short red hair, vision blurry as he takes in the vague shapes of your face as you softly praise him.

Since the rod is a construct, you can move it without actually having your hands on it, so as you stroke his face and kiss his forehead as he floats somewhere pleasurable and good, the rod pulls and pushes with just your mind, leaving Guy a warbling mess as the familiar tingle of an orgasm approaching builds inside his abdomen.

It travels slowly throughout his body, crawling from the bottom of his feet to the top of his head, coiling in his abdomen like a spring ready to snap. You can tell when he’s about to cum, as his eyes clench shut, his brows furrow, and his jaw falls open as he lets out noiseless huffs, hips wiggling uselessly against the pink constructs holding him in place.

With a kiss against his closed eyelid, you pull the rod out, just a tad faster than normal, and that’s what pushes him over the edge in the end, his throat opening in a deep guttural moan as he spurts white across his torso, splattering across his vest in thick white strokes.

The guttural moans turn to softer whimpers and whines as the orgasm lasts longer than normal, drawn out by your hands caressing him so lovingly and the constructs squeezing his body in different areas, letting him float for as long as he needs, as he knows you are there to take care of him.

Guy stays in that warm and comforting headspace as you clear away your constructs and carefully undo the vest from his torso, throwing it off to the side as you clean him up with a warm washcloth, the wet feeling causing soft noises of protest to leave him. Its only when you unsummon your suit and crawl into bed with him, that he stops whimpering under his breath, going limp against your chest as you kiss the top of his head, rubbing his shoulders and back as he floats.

[brooklynisher]

Do you have any other obscure spg characters u wanna ramble about bc I genuinely didn't know taggart was like . A Thing (am I even spelling his name right)(I do not know how to spell)

WELL I'm not as thinky thonky with these other characters as I am with the Babclocks, but here are some random ones to throw at you!

Marylin Verato and Jaquelyn Pomene [x]

Harold (from Steam Powered Giraffe accounting, been working since he was 5)

Diet Seven-Up (Engineer in the aesthetic prosthetic division, came from Cherry Cola Slovakia)

Lars (stuck in the hedge maze, became a Gardner, but he's having a pretty fun time)

[x]

I'mma keep them to Patreon but those guys are definitely some guys

Whatever this thing is??????

[x]

EDIT: ALSO here's some ones I barely remember existed

Bip Has the soda brand Also a place in Kazooland, "The capital of Merveille was named after its founder, and is a favorite spot for vacation for Peter Walter VI. It was also in Bip that the Great War of 1823 was ended by a mysterious mime with a magical kazoo." [x]

Doctor Laborday An old hero Rabbit compared to Rex Marksley

Howard Lloyd "This large sprawling landscape of suburbia is a metropolis of 1950's ideals, where the beautiful residents are protected from the ravages of time by a blue matter rich force field over the city. Created by a visionary man from Earth after slipping through an interdimensional rift, Howard Lloyd saw the potential of the unstable rift and created what some have called the 1950s utopia of mankind. Those who enter the city rarely decide to leave the prospect of eternal youth, but some do choose to escape Preferbia's roving gangs of fish mutants and frequent attacks by the Hypexion Moon Worms" [x]

The Highwayman

Lily Brennan

Boft

^ I remember reading about The Highwayman but I don't know where

[cleolinda]

Weekend links, April 21, 2024

My posts

Initially I wrote, “I ran my mouth about the Watcher streaming/paywall situation because I make bad decisions,” but I think the post has actually gone over well? In short, I want to see them succeed but I am also deeply fuckin’ baffled. I so desperately want the tea about what was really going on behind all this, and how the guys are reacting to it now, and I really hope they can turn this around somehow. 

Side note, Friday was CHAOTIC. 

Reblogs of interest

The Hot Vintage Lady Polls are escalating in round four. We got to a point where I posted propaganda for Ava Gardner AND Dorothy Dandridge in their matchup. Probably the biggest scandal of round three was Vivien Leigh getting knocked out, but she’s now High Chancellor of the Shadow Realm. The most contentious matchup this time seems to be Judy Garland vs Natalie Wood, which is nearly 50/50 as of this writing. But keep your eye on Hedy Lamarr, who may have Mifune Sweep energy. 

(I think I love these brackets for the same reason I love Dracula Daily: it’s delightful that thousands of people on Tumblr actually have deeply-held opinions about things from many decades ago, and if they didn’t before, they do now.)

(“I’m Katharine Hepburn, and this is Jackass!”)

--

Happy Bread Day (Observed)!

Hozier Watch 2024: “Why Would You Be Loved” has arrived on the Wasteland, Baby! special edition. I like this post about how that song is in conversation with “No Plan,” one of my favorites. (I wrote about “Movement” a while ago, but I could have fully inflicted an essay on you about how “No Plan” pulled me out of my six years of hiding from the internet. Anyway, it’s a great album from a few years ago, check it out if you haven’t.) 

Generally I keep my mouth shut about Taylor Swift, but the new songs sure have some lyrics. I love Florence Welch, but I’m scared.

You’ve heard of spoon theory, now check out spell slot theory

“You’re either frolicking in this field with me, or...” is funny, but then you get to the reblog.

What if we lay in this field together and held feet

A deep breach of etiquette with a little dog named Gucio

A story about statue vandalism with a delightful twist

You gotta fight mint with mint (like I can bring in my lemon balm, but at what cost?) 

I saw this post about feeding wild skeletons on Pinterest and I loved it so much that I tracked down the original. 

Once again, Holy Shit, Two Cakes theory

Remember the haunted house I grew up in? Yeah, it had a carpeted bathroom like this.

“gonna start formatting my posts like fics on ff.net circa 2008” will do you exactly the psychic damage you’re imagining 

The Round Table attempts to use Zoom

Video

Lil Nas X covers “Jolene,” Dolly Parton loves it, and @oscar-wet-and-wilde has further Black Country recs

A big loud steppy

“He’s retrieving”

Crispy meows

Watching this angel of a Doberman get a full spa treatment is also self care

AND YOU DARE SAY NO MORE TREATS??!?

The sacred texts

I don’t like thing, now with artist credit 

Personal tags of the week

I love when I can use a really niche, specific tag, and this week, it’s mouth perfect size for meme, with a little shaped on the side.

[harrisonstories]

George Harrison turns his amp back on after police attempt to stop the rooftop performance. (Get Back, 2021)

George Harrison v.s. the police

“In Cleveland, without asking us, two senior police officers marched on stage and stopped our show completely because they said the crowd was getting out of hand. The safety curtain was pulled down, and we were ordered to our cars. With the cops shouting, ‘The show’s over, fellows, this is where we take over.’ It’s never happened to us before. But that’s the trouble with American cops – they’re over-enthusiastic, whether it’s for stopping shows, hurling us into cars, baton charging the crowd or just asking 30 autographs at a time." - George's column in The Daily Express (1964) [x]

"We've been and played here in Sydney, and it was the biggest drag of all time. The stage revolves every three minutes and we have to walk right down the aisles like boxers to get to the stage. At the first house I punched a policeman because he was shoving me like mad and some kids had a hold of me all at once and I was trying to get off the stage. I was swearing my head off at one policeman (sorry), and later the chief came and apologised to me." - George in a letter to his parents (1964)

“I noticed a police car. It says, written on the door, ‘To serve and to protect’, and that really sort of buzzed me. I was starting to wonder like, who are they serving, and who are they protecting? I mean that’s where it’s really at because maybe they do serve and protect, but you know…themselves or? Like, who? […] That’s the trick you see. They say, ‘It’s not me. It’s somebody up there telling me what to do,.’ and you can never find like, who is the guy at the top? Because they shift the load, you know? Take a load off Annie.” - George interviewed by Don Hall and Charles Laquidara (1968)

“George arrived home, with Mal Evans and Derek Taylor in tow. All the detectives instantly leaped from George’s settees to converge upon their quarry as he stormed, ranting and raving, into his kitchen. 'The foxes have got their lairs,' George shouted, 'and the birds have their fucking nests, but man doesn’t have anywhere he can fucking go without people breaking into his house!' Ignoring this tirade, the Drug Squad, charging him with possession of cannabis, produced two pieces of incriminating evidence. 'That one’s mine!' George snapped. 'But I’ve never seen this one before in me fucking life! You don’t have to bring your own dope to me house, I’ve got plenty meself! And you didn’t have to turn this whole fucking place upside down, I could have shown you where the stuff was if you’d asked me!' Their only response was to ask George to accompany them to the police station. 'Well, I don’t care where the fuck we go,' George retorted, 'just so long as you get all these fuckers out of my house!'" - Pete Shotton on the 1969 drug bust at Kinfauns [x]

"The prosecution had stated then that Harrison drove his car on to the busy junction of Wigmore Street and Orchard Street blocking traffic. When stopped by the Pc, Stephen Gardner he drove the car forward with the constable walking alongside and twice refused a requestion to drive to the offside of the road. Pc Gardner walked forward and stood in front of the car and Harrison advanced the car slowly and it hit the officer's knee. He drove against the officer three times. Police spent 15 minutes trying to get his name and address, but Harrison, who was heavily bearded, was finally recognized. Mr. Polden told the magistrate yesterday that Harrison was trapped in the boxed area. He was driving his wife's Mercedes, and drove slowly forward. He heard a hammering on the car roof. ‘Mr. Harrison's lot has been to find people hammering on the roof of his car and he did not associate it initially with police action.’

The policeman believed the driver was taking no notice of his signal. Harrison had the car radio on and did not hear the officer speak to him. When the policeman ran in front of the car Harrison realized for the first time he was being requested to stop ‘for reasons quite obscure to him.’ He decided to pull in to the near side and started to turn not realising he was being discourteous. ‘He should have stopped, but it stemmed from a misunderstanding. That is why he pleaded guilty.’ ‘Mr. Harrison's nature is such that the arrogant level of driving does not really enter into it. As far as a man in his position can have, he has a sense of humility. He is not capable of deliberately driving into a police officer, causing him to hurt. He took the whole business impassively rather than arrogantly.’” - Guy Rais, Ban on Harrison (1971) [x]

"George gives me a souvenir as I leave -- a baton belonging to the Chief Constable of Liverpool, which GH took off him at the Liverpool premiere of A Hard Day’s Night!" - Michael Palin, Halfway to Hollywood: Diaries 1980–1988

"I was 15 and then uh...had some little run-in with some policemen, and he told the policemen to fuck off. And that was when I realised he was actually cool, on my side, and not just a scary dad, y'know?" - Dhani Harrison, Living in the Material World