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couldeatthatgirlforlunch · 3 months ago

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OMG I have an idea

What if a villain hit reader with a love potion and the Yandere JL has to deal with reader being obsessed with one of them until it wears off🙏🙏😭(I LITERALLY LOVE YOUR YAN JL WORKDGHBJB)

A Day in Life: Love Pollen

Synopsis: A day in your life where you get hit with love pollen, get kidnapped, and are rescued by the Justice League.

Pairing: Yandere!Justice League X Assistant!Gn!Reader

Tw: 18+; PDA; Dry humping; Kinda public sex bc they're in a deserted island’s beach, so it's basically out in the open but no one’s around; Dubcon/noncon bc, you know, love-and-kinda-sex pollen; Also maybe drugging bc of that; Writer is the Justice League's weakness; Hal Jordan is a little shit; Needles; English is not my 1st language.

Word count: 2,1k

Requested? Yes.

Extra notes: I imagine the League’s marketing will have a hard time after this little stunt, I mean, there's no way no one caught that on camera

General masterlist | A Day in Life - Series masterlist

The Legion of Doom had a plan. They invaded a political event in Metropolis, with the presence of the Justice League as the president’s security team, the League being the target. First, Poison Ivy release pollen throughout the whole city, as a distraction, making people hallucinate that they were in love with one another. Crazy in love. It would be okay, if her experiment didn't cause chaos. All over the streets, some people were having sex out in the open, some were fighting and killing because of jealousy and cheating, some were committing robberies to give their “loved ones”. It was pure chaos and only the quick reflexes, powers and gadgets from the League spared the team from getting hit.

Half the team went to deal with the distraction, saving and restraining people, giving them the antidote, etc. The other half, took care of the villains. After a few hours, the Legion of Doom was taken down and the city’s security and health workers took over the job, the chaos being a lot easier to contain since they were spreading the antidote through the air, it would take at least an hour to spread it throughout the whole city, and then the ones who somehow weren't able to breath it, but mostly, just the mess left behind was the real issue.

You were standing with the rest of the crew on the event, watching the League and the politicians discoursing for the press and TV. When the mayhem started, for the first few seconds, you got startled and froze. Looking between the League, the scared crowd, and the villains invading the place. Suddenly, you breathed some thick smoke and your eyes shot to the heroes, silently urging them to do something, when your eyes locked on Green Lantern’s, the pollen’s effect kicked in. You got dizzy, something snapped, and then everything changed.

Wait, when did Green Lantern's jaw got so sharp? And his muscles so defined? Oh, and he was so big and tall. Did he do something to his hair? Wow, his ring is glowing now and he's flying. He's so cool and powerful. A true hero. Shit, he's coming in my direction. Hehe, he's using a construct to lift me and my coworkers to a safer place as if it was nothing. Imagine flying with him every day. How does he look without the mask? Ugh, must be perfect, if his jaw and lips were anything to go by. I can't even see the color of his eyes! And- and please stop looking me in the eyes and touching my shoulders and asking me if I'm okay, of course I am, I'm with you. No. Nooo. Come back here! Let the others deal with the bad guys, I'm right hereee! Nooooo!

You were depressed and deflated the whole time your soulmate was away. A journalist team from outside the city arrived at some point and you were able to watch the fight — Normally, Lois Lane would do the transmission, but she's too busy making out with her cameraman, she was in the crowd too. —. You started crying watching your lover fighting with Sinestro. When he won, and everything was fine, was when you finally calmed down and just started anxiously waiting while ignoring your colleagues strange antics, one of them even hitting on you. Didn't she know you and Green Lantern were in love?

When the League was back, the paramedics were starting to give the crew the antidote, you were next in line, however, as soon as you saw the heroes, you broke into a sprint.

— Green! — You yelled, catching everyone off guard. Even more so when you jumped and hooked your legs around the brunette’s waist, your arms around his neck, and kissed him passionately.

Hal was so shocked that it took him two seconds to reciprocate the kiss, ignoring completely the gasps from his friends. You moaned against his lips, mumbling a jumbled mess of “I love you”, “I missed you”, “was so worried”, “so glad you're back”.

Someone groaned.

— Batman, just give them that damn antidote before I lose it. — Batman grunted and Hal struggled but managed to separate your faces for a moment. You tried to push your face towards his again, but he grabbed your jaw. You kept forcing your face against his hand and whining. It was really cute, and your willingness and the previous sensation of your lips ignited something in his belly, yet, he looked to the side just in time to see Batman preparing the needle, the rest of the League sulking on the side and glaring at him.

His mind worked rapidly, ignoring the texture of your soft lips pampering kisses against the skin of his hand. When he felt the tip of your tongue, he made a decision.

A bad one.

— Yeah. I don't think so. — Green Lantern conjured several chain constructs, chaining the League's arms and ankles to the ground. It wouldn't hold off the ones like Superman and Wonder Woman who were strong enough to break it, and Martian Manhunter who could just invade his mind or use his intangibility, Flash was also pretty capable of taking him on, but Hal was smart and sagacious. Still holding you, he made a rocket construct around you both and took off.

Really, a terrible idea.

Superman and Wonder Woman, in a cry of rage, broke the chains. Diana unsheathed her sword, her feet not even touching the ground anymore, flying, ready to go after the traitor. Martian passed through the construct, while Superman went to break Batman and Aquaman free, Flash vibrated fast to rearrange his particles and also escaped.

— We need a plan. — Batman’s voice stopped the amazon warrior from going in a hunt for blood. He was already stressing over what the marketing team could do to fix this.

— A plan? We can defeat the enemy and retreat my darling if we go now! — Wonder Woman barked.

— Green Lantern is impulsive. If we go now we can destroy the whole state and hurt (Y/N) in the process. He won't give them up easily.

— Batman's right. — Superman agreeds. — Flash, follow them and see where they’re going. — The speedster nodded and took off.

Barry shook his head, cursing his idiot best friend the whole way.

Between the whole team, Hal was clearly the only one who would be okay with you falsely loving them. The rest wanted something more genuine for you. Some of them would settle for you not loving them as much as they loved you, some wanted you to feel exactly the same amount of what they felt. Hal still loved you just like them, but he always had that certain level of insecurity that craved to be better than anyone, to impress, making everything a competition, and the sensation of being the only one to have you could certainly cloud his judgment and accept your love, even if fake. He just thought he could compensate by treating you the right way, and not just using that opportunity to do whatever he wanted with you, just because he could and you wouldn't complain. He could make this about you both, and not just about him.

Either way, every one of them (thought) they deserved their fair chance at winning you over.

— Manhunter, can you still read his mind and tell what he is thinking? — Manhunter nodded and his eyes started glowing, there was a second of silence before he spoke.

— It's getting weaker as he gets more distant. It's purely impulsive thinking. Green Lantern isn't considering the consequences and means no harm against Earth or us. — Batman nodds.

— That's a shame. I mean harm. — Wonder Woman mutters, Batman glared and Superman side-eyed her. Batman turned his communication on.

— Flash, tell us when they stop moving.

— If he touches them, I will personally kill him. — Aquaman darkly states. Superman took a step in his direction, facing him head on.

— No, you won't. — The two stared at one another intently, until Batman broke the silence.

— Focus. We don't have time for this. — The dark knight stated.

— We need to be collected and work as a team to act smoothly on our plan. — Martian reminds them. Wonder Woman steps down again and sheats her sword. They all form a circle and start planning.

The sky was never this blue and the sand never this warm and soft. Even with the warmth of the sun being so intense, you were laying on a palm tree's shadow, and the air was flowing just fine. What was actually making you sweat was the dry humping you and your soulmate were doing.

You don't remember ever getting so aroused in your whole life, and can't remember ever desiring someone so much. You could kill someone if they dared to try and steal him away from you.

Hal felt you carding your fingers through his hair and pull slightly, giving him shiver, and he squeezed the flesh of your hips. You moaned against his lips at a particularly stronger wave of pleasure. The clothes were a curse, stopping you from feeling the real him, so you desperately started clawing at his clothes. Green Lantern breathily chuckled.

— Relax, hot stuff, we have time… — He whispers with a smirk. The man held your hands and laid them on the ground, above your head. You just moaned, more needy, and pushed your hips against his, eliciting a hiss from his red and swollen lips.

His hands started unbottoning your shirt and freeing the fabric out of your pants. You kept your hands were they were and watched, eyes wide open, when he descended kisses from the middle of your chest, going south, only pausing at your waistband.

As much as you wanted to feel his mouth more, seeing him so covered and not being able to properly touch him was making you restless, so you sat up, surprising him, and started pulling up the fabric at the back of his neck. Hal chuckled and shook his head, humoring your needs. He helped you take it off, then pushed your own shirt down your arms, until it was off.

You paused, admiring his adonis body. Your heart raced and eyes watered, never having seen something so perfect your whole life. Even his scars were beautiful. His chest hair and happy trail looked really soft and somehow he looked even more muscled, strong and beautiful. You wonder why you rejected him before.

Hal Jordan basked in your amazed gaze, loving to show off, especially while doing nothing. He frowned weakly, and gave a reassuring grin when you pouted, slumped and frowned.

— What's this, sweetheart? I thought you were enjoying this. — To lift your mood, he started running his hands up and down your sides.

— I wanted to see your face… — Hal remained silent for a few seconds. They would tell you their identities eventually, and that fact kept being brought up on reunions. They all knew at some point, you would have to know, to really start a relationship, yet, Batman, and his paranoia, kept them all from telling you. Sometimes, it felt like a sabotage, but mostly, it made sense, since the guy had a bunch of kids, who could be in danger if the information somehow got leaked, still, you couldn't trust to let them in, if they didn't let you in. That was the only reason you didn't trust them, of course.

Also, a face was not a name. Hal wasn't famous, so how bad could it be? Especially if it would turn you on so much, and when you looked so damn cute. His own lust was also influencing his critical thinking, which was already second place to his impulsiveness.

Hal bit his lower lip and brought his face closer to yours, a few centimeters away from having your noses touching.

— Okay… Take it off… — You let out a happy squeal and reached up with both hands. Your heart pounded with anticipation, making you go slower to savor the intimacy even more. Hal closed his eyes when he felt the gentle tug, against his wishes to watch your eagerness and your lip biting in anticipation. His heart was also pounding.

You saw his right eye closed and his thick eyebrow, when suddenly, a loud noise rang out, scaring the shit out of you and prompting Hal to fix the mask again, get up and assess for danger.

He finally fell to his senses and realized something.

He just took the worst decisions ever.

Everything happened too fast. Flash was on your side, holding a needle to your arm, and Green Lantern was being thrown around by a red and blue blur. Only the feminine rageful scream gave you the hint to who it was.

You got up, ready to die for your soulmate, when the antidote kicked in.

You threw up.

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@wandalfnation @vadersassistant

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kyuujo · 26 days ago

Text

↳ screen time!

↳ michael kaiser x fem!reader ↳ nsfw ↳ voyeurism, slightly dubcon (reader is recorded without explicit knowledge), mutual masturbation (sort of), perv!kaiser, voyeur!kaiser, solo male masturbation, language, dirty talk, fantasies, sexual tension(ish), sexual pining, overstimulation, i think i got everything pls lmk if you catch something!

↳ 1.3k words

↳ uwaaah dahlings!! thank you guys so much for 106 followers!! it means so much to me! i’m so happy i can provide some entertainment to so many of you <333 it makes me so happy to do that TwT) this piece is actually a repost from my (deleted) blog, and i’m thinking it’ll be the last repost i do (idk why but reposting just feels weird to me T-T) but i hope you guys enjoy!! thank you so much for reading (im so sorry that this note was so long i had so much to yap about)

kaiser knew he was abusing a system that he shouldn’t even have knowledge of — but he simply couldn’t control himself.

the instant ness had clued him in on that little piece of information about the camera system, kaiser’s mind shifted straight to you; cute, quiet, shy little you. and ness, bless his soul, didn’t question kaiser even once when he requested (demanded) that ness find a way to hack into the secondary cameras hidden within the personal rooms of the facility.

kaiser wasn’t sure why jinpachi ego had felt the need to install such a security system, but he was deeply thankful for it.

because there would be no other way kaiser could ever witness this beautiful sight over and over again — you laid out across your bed, legs spread and fingers working over time plunging into your sloppy little cunt.

slick squelches and soft moans echoed through the earphones and traveled straight to kaiser’s dick, which was already hard and leaking despite only having started the recording less than a minute ago.

that was just the visceral effect you had on him; you could brick him up instantly with just a single glance in his direction.

and seeing you like this — oh, the effect was catastrophic. kaiser swears his dick has never been harder before, that he’s never felt so turned on and sensitive, each stroke of his hand down the shaft electrifying and borderline overwhelming — and when he ran the pad of his thumb along the tip to collect the dripping pre his whole body nearly convulsed.

it was amazing, satisfying, and yet so, so torturous. because at the moment, all kaiser could do was stare at your pretty cunt swallowing your fingers and imagine how it would feel for those velvet walls to be closing around his cock instead.

and suddenly, his hand just didn’t feel good enough anymore — kaiser imagined you must have felt the same way about your fingers, given the scrunch of your eyebrows and how desperate your movements were; it just wasn’t enough. you clearly needed something longer and thicker to fill you up.

and kaiser could do that for you — oh, how he would make you feel so good. he’d slide his cock in nice and slow so could you could feel him inch for inch, so you could enjoy that satisfying stretch it’d give your tight little pussy. he’d fuck into you recklessly in the same way you’re doing with your fingers while whispering sweet little nothings in your ear just to feel your walls flutter around him.

“so good, meine schöne rose,” kaiser whispered as he tightened his fingers around his cock, eyes zeroed in on your fingers sliding into that sweet nirvana between your legs. for a moment, kaiser could almost convince himself that he was buried inside your tight little pussy and not his own hand. “keep going. that’s it.”

kaiser’s breathing was quickly laboring, his abdomen twitching and tightening with every quick stroke of his hand. your soft moans and whimpers spurred that heat within his gut, and if he closed his eyes and focused, kaiser could feel your plump lips against his ear, honeyed voice begging him to fuck harder, to fuck you completely stupid, until all you could think about was his cock —

kaiser’s eyes snapped open when his ears were graced with a particularly loud moan from the earphones, and that liquid heat in his gut ramped up to a boiling point at the sight he was greeted with.

your other hand had abandoned its stationary place on your stomach and was now rubbing fast circles against your pretty clit in time with your thrusting fingers, and your whole body was trembling from the new stimulus. kaiser had seen this enough times to know exactly what was soon to come.

“oh, sweet girl.” kaiser murmured reverently, chest fluttering and hand picking up speed around his cock. “so fuckin’ pretty like that.”

and you were — you were so fucking breathtaking. eyes slipped shut and plump lips parted to release those sweet, sultry moans; fingers sliding into the prettiest folds and rubbing against the cutest clit; that perfect body trembling and shaking.

it was a vision of pure erotic perfection that was etched permanently into kaiser’s mind; a vision that he craves to see in person while he ravages you with his cock.

“c’mon, meine rose. you’re so close.” kaiser cooed, hand jacking his cock so fast that his wrist was beginning to ache — but there was no way he was going to slow down, not when you were both so close, hanging onto the precipice of pure rupture. his gut clenched almost painfully and his balls twitched, signaling the fast approach of his climax.

“i’m gonna cum, sweet girl. mmh — fuck, ah — you’re gonna make me cum — i’m coming —”

kaiser had to bring his other hand up and clamp his teeth around it to muffle the sounds that bubbled up in his throat. all it took was three more strokes and he was exploding, warm, sticky ropes shooting all the way up to his chest. kaiser couldn’t even control the moans that slipped out, nor could he control the way his hips jerked up to fuck his cock into his tight fist as he rode out his orgasm, eyes glued to the screen in front of him.

your escalating moans seemed to add even more fuel to the fire, stretching out kaiser’s orgasm to the point that his cock became almost unbearably sensitive — but he kept pumping his fist slowly, keeping his cock alive as he reached forward with a shaky hand to restart the video.

“just once more, meine schöne rose. make me cum one more time.”

#blue lock x reader #bllk x reader #michael kaiser #michael kaiser x reader #kaiser x reader

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pers1st · 9 months ago

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painkillers - alexia putellas x reader pt 2

pt 2 of dancing with the devil

pairing: alexia putellas x singer!reader

warnings: alcohol & drug abuse

songs used: you could start a cult - niall horan, painkillers - gracie abrams

If Lois noticed the tears threatening to spill from your eyes, he didn't mention it. You turned the radio on from the control in the back, desperate to escape the whistling thoughts in your head. They were bouncing from left to right, and all you could see was Alexia's face when she'd first spotted your bags. When she'd first realized you weren't going to spend the planned two days in Barcelona to watch her and Keira play. When she'd first realized you were leaving her.

Darling, I would give up everything...

You immediately turned the music back down. At this point, a tear rolled down your cheek and you wiped it away harshly, marking the skin a tint of red, leaving it stinging.

This song - Alexia had fallen in love with it once you'd showed it to her. Niall had reached out for a collaboration, as your manager had told you, and you, as always, wanted to hear your girlfriend's opinion. It had been before the start of her tour, and the two of you had been laying, bodies tangled, in her bed, sheets draped over your glistening nude bodies.

Alexia was the first person to hear every song you wrote, no matter where on the planet you were located, no matter how grainy her vision of you was, no matter how distorted your guitar or keyboard sounded out of her phone's speaker. She had loved it. She had urged - no, begged you to sing it to her that night, and all thought you had had to look up the lyrics, of course you had. You hated singing for other people when you were away from your job, wanting more than anything to not be the singer, but you did everything Alexia wanted, unable to refuse the dimples on her cheek when she smiled at your voice.

You took a sip of your water bottle. If Lois noticed there was vodka in it, he didn't say. At this point, you didn't even pull a face anymore, accepting the burn on your throat as a mere side effect.

Today, you deserved a drink. Leaving Alexia had, despite your preparation, hurt more than you had expected it to, and if you were going to have one last drink, one last bottle of vodka disguised as water, it was going to be today.

Once you touched down in Boston for your next concert, two days earlier than planned, you would stay sober.

The plane wasn't comfortable, though it was better than a commercial flight, and you fell asleep against your window the second you sat down, your head rolling against the cold glass in your deep slumber. The alcohol made you weary, and if Lois and Michael, your security, hadn't been watching you so closely, you would've dug into your purse for the bag of white powder, disguised under lipgloss, your polaroid camera and a whole bunch of other useless stuff. Just to ease the pain. Just to jerk you awake, maybe enough for a party later.

But you hadn't, and so instead, you had finished your water bottle and spent the minutes waiting to board in silence.

Your team was, at this point, used to your mood. They spent every day with you, and had been doing so for the past three months. At first, they had joined you on your parties and adventures happily, but now they were growing more and more concerned.

Michael noticed you took too long every time you went to the bathroom, steading yourself on his arms more and more each time. He noticed how you didn't react when you'd cut your leg on a broken bottle, shrugging the injury off before he could haul you away from the dance floor. He noticed how you called Alexia less and less, and he knew, when you'd announced you would simply be stopping by to gather some things in Barcelona, that the two of you were over.

The two of you had, at one point, been close enough for him to ask you why, but he knew now that you wouldn't answer. Speaking to you was touch and go, your mood never being predictable. Sometimes, the drugs made you angry and you lashed out on him, sometimes, the booze made you clingy and you swung your arm over his much taller shoulder to tell him how much you appreciated him, sometimes, everything was too much and you didn't speak at all.

Today was one of those days. You only awoke when the plane touched down in Boston, and you were passed out in the car once more. Finally falling into your hotel suite's double bed, you reached for the phone to dial room service. One last glass of wine. The vodka had upset your stomach, and you felt sick now. Wine was good for that. It made the slight ache in your gut disappear.

By the time you woke up the next morning, you were hungover, and Keira was upset.

"You have some explaining to do", Keira yelled over the phone when she had finally called you enough times for you to awake and answer her.

With squinted eyes, you stared at your best friend.

"Keira", you groaned, putting a hand to your forehead in an attempt to drown out the dull ache.

"No, don't Keira me. You broke up with her?!"

At this, you sat up, flicking on the little lamp on your bedside table.

"Did she tell you that?"

"She didn't have to."

A gulp found its way down your throat. Alexia was never one to show her feelings during football, and although her and Keira had grown quite friendly due to your relationship and the two of them being teammates. Still, you knew Keira wasn't the one she would go to about this. The fact that Alexia had been whatever enough for Keira to notice concerned you.

"What was I supposed to do? It didn't work anymore", you shrugged. The words twisted your stomach, and you were scared that if you took a deep enough breath in, the truth would spill out like bile. Keira didn't know any of your struggles. Keira didn't know why you had ended your relationship. Keira couldn't know.

"Make it work then! You two were so happy", Keira sighed.

"No, we weren't, Kei, and you know this. When was I supposed to make it work? I'm in the US until the end of the year, I'm touring through Europe afterwards. Ale and I... It was just time", you shrugged, wiping away the tears that once more appeared in the corners of your eyes.

"If a relationship doesn't work, you make it work!"

"Oh, like how you and Lucy did?!"

Silence fell between the two of you. You knew you had overstepped a line, but it didn't matter. Keira was overstepping too.

Keira took a deep breath in. You were right. She knew it too.

"So, how are you feeling?"

"Like the next album is going to be really fucking good."

Humor was a deflection for you and Keira knew it. She stared at you with a furrowed brow, nose crinkled.

"Just.. don't sulk, okay? Enjoy your tour, don't lock yourself in your room again. I can't wait to see you on Christmas."

A faked smile found its way onto your face. It was soft, not overdoing it just to ensure Keira would believe you. There was not a single cell of your body that cooperated with the way your lips tugged upwards, but it worked nonetheless. Keira smiled back at you.

"I've got to go now, we're meeting for the game soon. I love you."

"I love you too."

Keira was the only person, along with your mother, who had ever heard those words from you. Except for Alexia. Speaking them felt like a crime, but you were a criminal already. There was no way to undo what you had done, and Keira had told you to enjoy the rest of your tour. So that was what you did. Or, well, attempted to do.

In all honesty, the drugs were the only thing keeping you afloat. The oxycodone left horrible shadows under your eyes and when you awoke, you were sweaty, nauseous, you weren't yourself. Your team noticed it as well, and so did the bassist of your tour band, who kept supplying you with what he called "his good stuff".

Party after party, drink after drink, line after line. In all honesty, it was a miracle that you made it as long as you did.

Alexia hadn't heard from you since the breakup, officially. Unofficially, however, she watched every livestream of your shows with the fake TikTok account she had dedicated to saving videos of you. Your missing phone calls afterwards didn't go unnoticed, of course, but Alexia knew that there was no use in reaching out to you. She had tried, only to find out you had blocked her number, so instead of celebrating yet another successful show of yours via the phone, she wept and wept in the bed you had once shared, not allowing the shadows underneath her eyes to be visible to her teammates, nor the tearstained cheeks.

This livestream, a week after your breakup, was far more grainy than the prior ones. She assumed that there was bad connection, as she stared at Keira's iPad from the seat behind the strawberry blonde woman, but she was quite grateful for not having to see your face in as good quality, because she needed to listen, to focus, when you announced that you'd be playing a brand new song. This was her chance - her chance at finding out what exactly had caused her breakup. She had known that while traveling with the team, she wouldn't be able to watch the show the way she usually did, and as much as she hated to admit, she had chosen the seat behind Keira and Aitana strategically.

The two were sitting, heads together, in front of Kei's screen, staring at the grainy image of you wobbling around on your stage.

"I've written this song very recently, but I want to share it with you guys."

Ale's brows furrowed as Mapi, next to her, took out her earphones.

"Es Y/N?", your ex-girlfriend's best friend asked, nudging Ale's shoulder slightly.

"Sì´", Aitana answered, nodding with her eyes still focused on the screen. Mapi lunged herself forward, blocking Ale's view entirely, but the captain didn't have it in herself to complain. All she needed was to hear. The stream was loud enough for the rest of the bus to hear, and all though she wasn't the best in English, she had sure learned since being with you.

"I don't have a title just yet", you spoke into the microphone as soft chords began echoing through the speaker.

"So you might have to wait until I release it. If I release it."

Although she couldn't see, Alexia could envision the way you sat by your piano in a sea of a crowd, in a sold out stadium, with all the eyes on you, swaying softly with the flow of your melody.

I almost liked the way you fooled me

To make me feel like this would last forever.

But twice at night, I'd wake up sweating

To sleep without you here would do me better

I called you out and labeled you a problem

I should know that it takes one to know one.

Alexia sucked in a breath at that, as did everyone else. She had never heard your voice this monotone, this void of emotion, and it worried her. Above all else, though, she was confused. You had labeled her a problem? You would be better to sleep without her?

You represent the codependence,

I was down, you wore the shining armor.

The side effect is cold resentment,

Tricked me into thinking you were stronger.

She didn't understand. You had never been codependent on Alexia. The two of you had been a clingy couple, yes, but you had done your own thing, you had your own career, as did Alexia, and the both of you blossomed in sharing it. There had never been a moment where you had depended on her. And above all, you resented her? Then why had you cried when you'd left her? Why hadn't you been angry? Why had you never told her why?

Hold me slowly,

you don't even know me.

Home now, lights out,

pictures just destroy me.

Come through late, and

tell me that you want it bad.

"Whoa, Ale, ¿qué le hiciste an ella?” (What did you do to her?) Mapi whispered into her ear as the song ended and cheers erupted, and although Alexia had a few nasty remarks in her mind at what to tell her best friend, she was frozen in place. All of her teammates had been listening, and all of them were now staring at her. Just as Aitana's head vanished to the window, she caught a glimpse of you again, standing up from your seat wobbly.

A thought crossed her mind, for merely a second - Were you drunk?

But she didn't have time to think about it any longer, plugging her earphones in again, putting her head against the window to not watch the three songs she knew were left, shutting the world, and most importantly, her team out.

The silence didn't last long. The headlines came an hour later. That's what it had taken for her to realize that you hadn't sung about her at all. By the time the final whistle went in Madrid, she learned you were fighting for your life, somewhere in New Jersey. By the time the final whistle went in Madrid, her world was shattered in a totally different way.

notes: okay there’ll be a pt3 i promise !! sped home from work to write this bc i’m in love w this plot tbh, let me know what you think <3

#woso soccer #womens football #barcelona femeni #barca x reader #barca femeni #alexiaputellas #alexia putellas x reader #alecia putellas imagine #woso imagine #woso x reader #Spotify

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gunnerfc · 7 months ago

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Good Game | Caitlin Foord x Arsenal!Reader (18+) [Saturday]

Summary: Celebrating a hard-earned Arsenal win in which you both played excellent

Warnings: top caitlin, bottom reader, oral (r receiving), caitlin calling r “good girl”

WC: 1.8k

Night After Night masterlist

Your heart pounded against your chest as you ran toward goal, your arm high in the high calling for the ball. Caitlin was quick to spot your run, crossing the ball perfectly for you to head the ball into the back of the net. You pumped your fist in celebration as you ran toward your girlfriend, who has assisted all three goals you’ve scored tonight.

You threw your arms around her neck, her arms wrapping around your waist as your teammates joined you. Caitlin placed a light kiss on your cheek before pulling away, a proud smile on her face as she watched you cheer toward the fans. You sent her a quick smile as you passed her heading back to the center of the pitch.

The two of you have had a crazy connection on the pitch tonight and it paid off as Arsenal was leading four to one against Liverpool. Three goals for you and one for Caitlin helped the Gunners secure the win after ninety plus minutes. You took a deep breath when the final whistle was blown, your legs sore from all the running and tackles you endured.

You quickly shook hands with the Liverpool players before Leah jumped on your back, shouting how proud of you she was. You laughed at the blonde’s excited cheers before giving her a quick hug. You hugged a few of your other teammates before Caitlin’s arms were wrapped around you from behind in a tight embrace. You giggled softly when she peppered light kisses all over your cheek.

“I’m so proud of you,” the Aussie praised before placing one last kiss on your cheek and letting you go. A bright smile on her face from pride at how well you both played tonight.

You turned to face her, grabbing her hand to swing lightly in between the two of you. “Well, I couldn’t have done it without you,” you grinned, giving her hand a light squeeze. Caitlin blushed at your words but before she could say anything Jonas called the team in for a quick post match talk.

Caitlin kept a tight grip on your waist as Jonas congratulated the team and you specifically for your hat trick. The team cheered loudly at the mention of your three goals and you bowed your head bashfully when they started chanting your name. After a quick ‘Arsenal!’ chant, you pushed toward an interview for media.

Your eyes glanced at Caitlin every so often, the forward waiting for you at the edge of the tunnel. You made sure to mention her during your interview, the crosses and passes she fed you were the only reason you were able to score. You quickly thanked the interviewers before heading toward your girlfriend.

You threw your arms around her neck, pulling her into a kiss once you were free from cameras and the eyes of fans. Caitlin easily won dominance over your lips, her arms tight around your waist as she backed you up against a wall. You bit back a moan when she bit your lip, one of her hands dipping slightly to grab your ass. You pulled away once air became an issue, your eyes wide at the thought of possibly getting caught.

Caitlin gave you one last kiss before letting go of you completely, a teasing smirk on her face as she pulled you to the loud locker room. Your mind was elsewhere, too preoccupied with the feeling of Caitlin’s hands on your body. You did your best to maintain a conversation with your teammates as everyone changed or showered, though you were thankful when everyone started to quiet down.

Caitlin sat across from you in the locker room and her eyes stayed on you the whole time she changed, though you refused to look at her knowing that seeing her changing would affect you even more. The Aussie chuckled to herself when you didn’t look up, knowing the effect she had on you. The kiss in the hallway was just the beginning of how the two of you would be celebrating how well you played.

You both said goodbye to your teammates after you were changed, locking hands as you walked out of the building to your car. You gave Caitlin a small kiss on her cheek when she opened the door for you before heading around to the driver's side. Caitlin started the car, her hand falling to your thigh as she revered. You swallowed softly at her touch and kept your focus on the road in front of you.

The car ride home was silent, both of you sharing the same idea about what was going to happen when you got home. Caitlin gave your thigh a quick squeeze when she pulled up to your house, the Aussie was quick to turn the car off and hop out. Caitlin opened your door once more, her hand holding yours tightly as she led you to the front door.

You let her unlock the door and pull you inside, your back pressed against the door the moment it was closed. Her lips fought yours in a rough kiss, her hands pulling at your (her) hoodie. During your kiss, you both kicked your shoes off as your hands pulled at the clothing covering both of you. Caitlin pulled her hoodie from your body, throwing it to the floor, her hands now focused on the shirt you were wearing. Your shirt didn’t last much longer before it joined the hoodie on the floor, Caitlin’s hands now tracing up and down your bare torso.

You let your girlfriend guide you backward to the bedroom, your lips still intertwined as you moved through your house. You two stumbled into your bedroom, giggling lightly into the kiss as you bumped the side of the door. You pulled out of the kiss to pull Caitlin’s shirt over her head, tossing it to the floor to be picked up later. Caitlin’s lips were on yours again once her shirt was off, but this kiss was softer than the other kisses you shared so far.

The forward moved you back to the bed, the back of your legs hitting the edge as you sat down. Caitlin pulled away from you to gesture upward for you to lie down. “Let me show you how proud I am of you, baby,” her usually cheery voice was lower as her eyes dropped to your bare chest, you had opted to not wear a bra home.

You nodded softly, your skin heating up at her words. You slid up the bed, your head hitting the pillows as you stared at Catlin, waiting for her next move. The Aussie trailed a hand up your clothed leg toward the waistband of your pants, pulling at the string to loosen them around your hips. You lifted your hips off the mattress slightly to make it easier for her to push them down your legs, your underwear going with them. The forward threw them to the floor aimlessly, not caring about where they landed.

Your chest heaved lightly as you lay bare against your bed, Caitlin’s hands tracing random shapes along your skin. Your breath hitched when her fingers got close to where you needed her most. You could feel how wet you already were, your thighs rubbing against each other for some sort of relief, though it was no use.

Caitlin leaned down to plant deep kisses on the top of your thigh as she moved between your thighs. Your legs spread automatically for her, whimpering softly when the cool air hit your wet core. Caitlin’s kisses inched closer to your slick folds, her hands moving to hook around your thighs to keep them spread open for her.

You moaned loudly before a hoarse ‘Cait’ fell from your lips, your hands gripping the cover under you tightly. Your hips jerked when Caitlin ran her tongue through your folds, the Aussie moaning into you as she tasted you. Her moans sent a wave of vibrations through you as another moan escaped your mouth.

Caitlin licked up slowly, her tongue circling your clit before she sucked the bud into her mouth, sucking it harshly as you gasped above her. Caitlin looked up from between your thighs, her eyes meeting yours before your head fell back against the pillows, broken moans falling continuously from your lips. Your back arched slightly off the bed when Caitlin’s tongue dipped into your folds, thrusting softly as she tasted you.

“Cait, please,” you begged above her, the familiar coil in your lower stomach tightening as she worked you close to coming. Caitlin’s hands around your hips gripped tighter, her nails leaving crescent indents. The thigh grip she had on your hips would surely be felt in the morning, the soreness welcomed as she fucked her tongue into you.

“What do you need, baby,” the Aussie mumbled against you, her eyes still locked on you as you stared up at the ceiling. She licked her lips as she waited for your response, a small groan leaving her lips once she tasted you once more.

You turned your head down, your eyes meeting hers. The sight of her between your legs, your cum coating her mouth driving you crazy. “Make me cum,” you started, your breathing labored as your thighs clenched, “P-please,” you whined, your hips attempting to roll but her hands kept them pressed to the mattress.

“Since you’ve been such a good girl,” she smirked softly before continuing what she was doing. Your eyes rolled back at her praise, her words were enough to have your head spinning.

The thrusts of her tongue were faster as she ate you out, your eyes screwing shut at the pleasure you felt. Caitlin moved one of her hands, her thumb circling your clit. You moaned at the feeling, the grip you had on the cover growing tighter.

A loud gasp that turned into a moan echoed off the walls as you let go, your orgasm hitting you hard as your body shook slightly. Caitlin kept her tongue and thumb moving, helping you ride out your high. You whimpered softly when she pulled away from you and moved up your body.

The Aussie’s lips met yours in a slow kiss, the taste of yourself on her lips earning a low groan from you. “I love you,” she mumbled against your lips once she pulled away.

“I love you too,” you tiredly responded, your exhaustion starting to hit as you lay there catching your breath. Caitlin laughed softly as she moved to lay on her side next to you.

You furrowed your brows slightly as you turned your head to look at her. “What about you,” you mumbled, a yawn following right after.

Caitlin laughed again before pressing a soft kiss to your forehead. “This was about you, baby,” she whispered, though your eyes had already fallen shut.

Your breathing evened out as sleep took over you but you curled into Caitlin subconsciously. If this was how you were treated after playing the way you did, you would have to make sure every time you stepped onto the pitch you played your best game ever.

#woso x reader #awfc x reader #auswnt x reader #matildas x reader #caitlin foord x reader #caitlin foord #arsenal wfc x reader

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drabblesandimagines · 1 year ago

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Dove (part two)

Part one here. Leon Kennedy x fem reader Slow, slow burn, mostly fluff tbh

Leon’s lying on the couch, an arm bent behind his head and staring at the living room ceiling when his watch beeps, signaling the 0500-perimeter check. There are security cameras outside that will send a notification to his phone, but technology isn’t infallible so he prefers a sweep with his own eyes every four hours or so when he’s on protection detail. He heaves himself upright, wincing a little when his back protests. Hell, maybe he’s getting a little old to be sleeping on sofas. He picks up his gun off the coffee table and checks the cartridge, more out of habit than anything else – hasn’t shot a bullet this mission.

He makes his way over to the garage door, casting his eyes over your bedroom door as he does so. You won’t be awake for a few more hours, not after those sleeping pills, so he’s not trying to be particularly quiet when he unlocks the door, steps through and locks it once more behind him. He walks around the side of the SUV towards the garage shutter itself next, unlocks the padlock and lifts it up to step out into the cool night air.

The safe house is located a few miles out from a village on old farm land, tucked away down a rural lane. No nosey neighbors to question why there are no people living there most of the year. He went round the perimeter anti-clockwise upon arrival, so he’ll go clockwise this time, flashlight in one hand and gun aimed in the other. He’d been at home for a change when Hunnigan had called him – first person she thought of when she’d seen Lickers on the partial CCTV footage that had been salvaged. For a building housing the DSO’s surveillance division, Leon hadn’t been particularly impressed by quality of the CCTV images. Grainy, staggered frames of the creatures tearing up the office and people apart, leaving only destruction in their wake. And you, breathing but dazed, buried under lockers at the bottom of the stairwell and, somehow, the only survivor.

He completes his round at 0525, nothing significant to note and heads back inside, unlocking and locking doors behind him.

At 0600, his phone vibrates in his pocket – a steady rhythm denoting it’s a phone call, not a message or notification and, really, there’s only one person who will be calling him so he doesn’t even bother to check the caller ID.

“Morning, Hunnigan. What did the night bring?”

“Nothing substantial. We’re still trying to establish the full timeline. Seems like the footage we salvaged yesterday might be all we are going to get CCTV-wise.”

“Did you send a team out to Dove’s?”

“Won’t have the manpower till this afternoon. Why – do you have suspicions?”

“No, not at all.” He replies. “I just… I think it’ll put her at ease to know we’re not treating her as a suspect.”

“Did you question her?” Hunnigan sounds skeptical and he hears her tap away on her keyboard. “I haven’t received your report if so.”

“No, not yet. It was late when we arrived – she was tired, in pain, terrified. I didn’t think questioning her then would go down particularly well or be helpful. Gave her painkillers and sleeping pills. I’ll broach it after breakfast, maybe.”

“Broach it?”

“See how she’s feeling, I mean. Last night after we got in the car, she was all one-word answers, a couple of sentences here and there.” Leon sighs, rubs the bridge of his nose. “I just don’t wanna scare her off.”

“If she’s got nothing to hide, there’s nothing for her to be scared of. Do your job and don’t get sweet on her.”

“Why can’t a guy do both?” He laughs.

“Leon – I expect that report today.”

The smile drops and he nods, as if she could see him. “Yes, ma’am.”

It takes a few attempts to open your eyes, blearily staring up at an unfamiliar ceiling in the morning light that filters in around the curtain. Your mouth is horrendously dry – a side effect from the sleeping pills, perhaps. Your whole body aches with stiff, bruised limbs.

But you’re alive, you remind yourself, when so many others aren’t.

Leon had been right at least – the sleeping pills had knocked you out into a dreamless sleep, though you don’t feel particularly rested.

You sit up in the bed tenderly, immediately thinking of painkillers. There’s no thought of getting changed, making yourself presentable. The man helped you strip last night, hell, he might think you’re a murderer, what does it matter if you leave the bedroom in a long t-shirt that shows a perhaps indecent amount of leg?

You open the door cautiously, unsure if Leon might still be sleeping on the couch, but it’s empty. Not a pillow or blanket in sight. The bathroom door is open, so he’s not in there. Your eyes move next to the door to the garage – maybe he’s gone to the SUV, would he sleep in there?

You turn slowly on the spot, trying to work out if there’s another door you’d missed in the blur of last night, but there’s the three – bathroom, bedroom, garage…

Wait. Your stomach sinks in realization.

Where’s the front door?

Is it a safe house thing? But surely that limits exit options if you’re trapped in here.

Or maybe that’s what they want.

Maybe you’ll graduate to a safe house with a front door when they don’t suspect you of being involved. You’ll ask Leon, you think, when he comes back from wherever he is. He seems nice, or nice enough. Been nothing but a gentleman, genuinely caring about your wellbeing… But maybe that’s all an act. An uncomfortable sensation reminds you that you need to use the facilities after a night of medicated sleep, so you head into the bathroom and lock the door.

All doubts about his sincerity are thrown out of the reinforced window once you see what’s on the counter.

There are two toothbrushes – one in a mug he’s pilfered from the kitchen after you’d smashed the container last night, and one’s lying flat on the counter, toothpaste pre-squeezed upon its bristles.

Sweet.

You emerge from the bathroom, teeth cleaned and find Leon stepping through the garage door.

“Oh, morning.” He smiles, shuts the door firmly behind him. You can see he looks a little tired around the eyes.

“Morning.”

“I didn’t think you’d be up for a few more hours. How are you feeling?”

“A bit sore.” He can tell you’re lying about the ‘bit’ - trying to put on a brave face. “What time even is it? I don’t have my phone… or a watch.”

“Ah,” he looks down at his own as if he doesn’t already know from his 0900 check. “Nearly half nine. Did you sleep all right?”

You nod. “No dreams. Was the sofa okay?”

“Yeah, one of the better ones.” He turns to the door and you hear a click before he steps away, heading into the kitchen.

Locked in.

“Where were you?”

“Outside. Perimeter check – all good.”

“Oh.” You pause, feeling like you know the answer before you can even ask it. “Can I go outside?”

His face falls in apology. “Sorry. Not at the moment - protocol. Wouldn’t want to risk anything.”

“Yeah, makes sense, I guess.” You continue standing awkwardly, a combination of not knowing what to do with yourself and hesitant to move knowing it’s going to hurt. “Erm, sorry, where did you put those painkillers?”

His face remains apologetic, though you’re not sure why. “We should get you some food in your first. I really shouldn’t have given you all those pills last night on an empty stomach.”

“I couldn’t have eaten anyway.”

“Understandable.” He ducks down below the counter and opens a cupboard, standing upright and placing a box of oats on the counter. “I’m afraid breakfast choices are a little limited. Oatmeal okay?”

“You cook too?”

“I’d say describing me as a cook is a stretch. We’ve got some fruit as well, but I think oatmeal will be best for those pills.”

“Yeah, sure.”

“Coffee or tea?”

“Coffee, please.” You remain standing in place. “Erm, can I… do anything?”

“Nah, I’ve got it all handled.” He calls over his shoulder as he grabs some mugs out of a cupboard – doesn’t have to open a few before he can locate what he’s looking for as you would have to in a vacation rental. “Go ahead and sit down. Might’ve noticed this place is sans dining table, so coffee table will have to do.”

You walk slowly over to the couch, your muscles aching with protest. The bruises are far darker on your legs today than yesterday and, boy, do you feel it. You sit down delicately on the sofa, before tucking your knees up underneath out of habit, reaching for a throw pillow and clutching onto it pathetically.

You don’t know where your thoughts drift off to as you stare at the TV opposite despite it being off – it’s like your brain just temporarily switched off, until a single word reboots it.

“Honey?”

“Huh?” Where had that come from? Was it…? “I thought we went with Dove.”

Leon laughs – can’t help himself. “No, no, sorry. I meant, would you like honey on your oatmeal? Codename’s still Dove, as far as I know. I don’t come up with them.”

“Oh,” you feel your face grow a little hot. “Y-yeah, please.”

A few moments later he approaches the coffee table, steaming mug of coffee in one hand and a bowl of oatmeal in the other, complete with spoon. He places it down in front of you with a flourish.

“Order’s up.”

There’s an attempt at what looks like a smiley face drawn in honey atop the oatmeal.

“Thank you.” You can’t help the amused tone that enters your voice.

“Yeah, sorry,” he rubs the back of his head. “I can’t do fancy drizzles like the restaurants so that’s the best I could come up with. I’ll just go grab your pills, but dig in.”

You lean forward and spoon a small scoop up and force it into your mouth. Your appetite is still missing in action but you know you need something. A metal clang draws your attention from behind and you turn your head, seeing Leon fiddling with what looks like a metal lockbox. He opens it and pulls out the canister of the painkillers and shakes two out in his hand, before closing the box and locking it. You turn back, take another scoop of oatmeal and swallow, hoping it gets rid of the bitter taste of distrust in your mouth.

He's in front of you again, hand outstretched, but you can’t help yourself.

“Why are the painkillers locked away?”

“Protocol.” He doesn’t meet your eyes.

“Really?”

“I’m afraid so.” There’s a pause. Leon knows what you’re thinking and he hates it – he knows what it’s like to be scared, not trust anyone around you and he desperately doesn’t want to be that to you. “It’s mainly the sleeping pills. I don’t think you’re going to slip some and try and knock me out, or try and overdose on painkillers, but I… I need to follow it, okay? It’s nothing personal, Dove, I promise.”

“Is it protocol not to have a front door too?”

“Ah, wondered when you might clock that. Yeah. There’s a false one outside – built into the façade so it doesn’t look weird. Only real way in and out is through the garage.”

“But if someone or…” You swallow, the creature flashing up in your mind “…or something got in here, we’d be trapped.”

“Nothing is getting in here and if it does, it’s not getting past me.” He says, sincerely, and when you meet his eyes, there’s that niggle in your chest. You want to trust him - you really, really want to - you want to feel completely at ease with the man who’s apparently ready to lay his life down for you and only you, but you still feel like you’re on the tightrope between victim and villain in this piece. “Open your hand?”

You do, watching him drop two little white pills into it.

“You can have them every four hours if you’re feeling sore. I’ll keep track of the doses, just ask.”

You knock them back with a swig of coffee.

“Is it okay if I take a shower?”

“Of course you can.” He pauses, trying to work out why you thought you had to ask. “Do you need a hand with…?”

“No, I think I’ll be okay. Erm… Do you know what I need to do about my temple?” You gesture to the medical strips on your forehead.

“Ah, yeah. So, need to try and avoid getting them wet for a few days. Don’t worry if you do though, I can re-do ‘em. First aid qualified.”

“Thanks. Erm, see you in a bit.” You head into the bedroom and to the duffel bag filled with clothes, picking out a selection that should work and run a brush through your hair. You take it back in the bathroom – Leon politely pretends to be engrossed in whatever’s now on the TV - and place them down on the counter, before locking the door.

After a less than relaxing shower – foregoing washing your hair – injured arm hanging loosely by your side, you’re not sure how long it takes to wrestle to put on underwear, sweatpants and a t-shirt, but it’s not like you have anything to do or anywhere to go. There’s no way you feel up to tackling the exercise bra that whoever has packed and asking Leon is simply beyond the question. It’s nice to be clean though. You’d tried to put the sling back on but had given up when your shoulder had started to smart after failed attempts and leave it half on/half off as you leave the bathroom.

Leon’s sat on the couch, phone in hand when you emerge. He turns, gives you a smile and nods at it.

“Need a hand with that?”

“Please. I tried, but…”

“Hey, it’s early days.” He stands up to meet you, pocketing his phone, as you walk over. “Sometimes they try and get you doing exercises from day one with dislocations too, but the medic advised you rest it for a week so I wouldn’t push yourself too hard.”

He takes adjusts the work you’d managed ever so slightly, and then puts everything in place. He steps closer to adjust it around your shoulder and you find yourself just staring into the expanse of his chest, when he sniffs.

“Mm. What is that - strawberry?”

“Huh?” You look up.

“Your bodywash.” He tightens the strap in place, checking everything is holding snug. “Someone on supplies must’ve been feeling fancy to be stocking us with that.”

“Did you not shower?” Your face burns red as soon as the question leaves your lips. “Not that you…” You like his scent, actually, woody. “I mean, just the bodywa-”

He shrugs it off. “I get you. Er, no. I… Well, I didn’t want to whilst you were sleeping, you know, in case…”

“Oh.” In case someone or something attacked. “Well, you could now – if you want. I’m awake now, so… Unless it goes against protocol?”

“No.” As long as he takes his guns and other weapons in with him, he thinks, and casts a longing look at the bathroom. “Promise you’ll yell if you need me, or you hear a weird noise or… anything, right?”

“I’ll yell.”

“Good. Okay. Might see if there’s another bodywash packed though – not sure I’m a strawberry guy.” He heads over to the garage door where the other duffel bag remains and picks it up, carrying it into the bathroom and locks the door.

He emerges 20 minutes later, same sort of t-shirt and cargo pants combo as yesterday and there’s a whiff of strawberry scent as he walks past you to sit down on the other couch.

You’ve been staring blankly at the TV screen for a little while – some sort of house renovation show, kept the volume down low. There isn’t really much else to do here and, really, you don’t want to sit and dwell on your own thoughts. Leon gave you the remote control, told you it was your choice and, sure, you’d clicked down past some of your favourite shows but you don’t want to associate any of them with this, with what happened…

So, weird house renovation it is, though you’re not taking any of it in.

Leon had excused himself a little while ago, said there was still some things in the back of the SUV he needed to grab. You don’t look round when he comes back in but you hear the lock click once more, before you hear him open a cupboard and the tap runs. He shows up in your peripheral vision a few moments later, placing two glasses of water down on the coffee table, laptop tucked under his arm and looking sheepish through his hair.

“Dove, I… I need to ask you some questions about yesterday.”

“Questions?” You tuck your legs up underneath you, wanting to huddle your knees like you do when you watch a horror movie.

“Yeah. Get your statement, mainly. It’ll help the investigation. I’m going to record the audio.”

“Do you want the TV off?”

He smiles at your question – still so sweet and considerate despite the fact he’s the one about to interrogate you, make you relive what is surely the worst even of your life, and you’re worried about his audio quality.

“No, it’s low enough – it won’t get picked up if you wanna leave it on for background noise.”

“Okay. Erm, I think I’d like that.” You pause, digging your nails into your palm. “I’m not sure how much help I’ll be, though. It’s all… kind of a blur.”

“That’s okay,” he opens up his laptop, taps a few keys and angles it to set up to record so he can go over and pick key points up later, if there are any. “Anything will be great. We’ll take it slow. You ready?”

You’re not, but you doubt you ever will be.

“Ready.”

Masterlist . Requests welcome . Commissions/Ko-Fi

PS: Comments literally make my day! Lemme know if you're excited for part 3 x Part three.

#ghostdogwrites #leon kennedy x reader #leon kennedy x you

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copperbadge · 11 months ago

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Last night I decided it was time for some good ol' fashioned Danish antidepressants: A LEGO KIT.

[ID: Two photos taken from the head of the bed; in the first, my cats are visible loafing near the foot, beyond a lap tray with lego bricks on it. In the second image, Dearborn the tortie stares at the camera while I show off the start of the build in the foreground.]

Normally I'd sit at the dining table for this, but Dearborn has begun to get antsy in the evenings because she and I tend to hang out in the living room while Polk won't leave the bed (I leave the heated pad on during the day for them) and Dearborn doesn't like it when the whole clowder isn't together. So, I've taken to doing evening projects on the bed, if I can.

[ID: Three images of the build in progress; the first shows a strange-looking elongated piece, brown at one end and blue at the other with a circular black area in the middle. The second image shows this piece plus two sinuously curving blue pieces made of multiple lego bricks. The third image shows the curving pieces snapped onto the long piece to form a ukulele, with the circular black area representing the central hole in the sound board.]

This is the Tropical Ukulele 3-in-1 kit, where you can build a ukulele but the same bricks will build a little dolphin or a surfboard if you prefer. I really like how it came together -- you build the sound board and neck first, then stick the curved edges of the body on. The result is that it looks like random shapes until you snap the body on, and then it looks like a ukulele very suddenly, which is extremely satisfying.

Polk did some quality testing.

[ID: A photograph of Polk the tabby, who has become interested in the build and is sniffing the "head" of the ukulele where the tuning pegs are sticking out, her ears slightly awry.]

It's very pretty, and the instrument has a nice weight to it; it also feels like maybe lego has done some reworking to make their bricks slightly more snug when snapped together, because it feels like it held together more securely than the typewriter I built a few years ago. I also got to build flowers for the first time, which are something Lego is offering more and more frequently. They're fiddly as hell to build but the end effect is great.

And I love that the head is slightly hinged -- the "strings" go on very loosely, and they're flexible so they were kind of bent all over, but then you tilt the head back slightly and they go taut and stay that way.

Overall very satisfying build and lovely final product, 11/10 would strum if I could.

[ID: The finished product, resting on my lap desk on the bed; a light blue ukulele with silver "strings" sits securely on a curving base. In front of it are two large colorful tropical lego flowers; there is also a third flower attached to the ukulele at the base of the neck.]

#lego #ukulele

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weirdkpopgirl · 1 year ago

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Jealousy | Dream Reaction #9

Reaction: When they get jealous of their gf being close with another member Genre: Fluff, comedy, a little angst if you squint Warnings: quite a few repeated words lol Word Count: 3829k Author's Note: Gosh, it feels nice to post something for NCT Dream as a whole after a while. Initially, I wasn't crazy about the idea of writing a scenario where the members get jealous. But it was fun to write, I tried to make them realistic to the member's personalities. Hope you guys enjoy it. Thank you for reading ^ - ^

~ ~ ~

MARK

The longer he went without seeing you, the restlessness within him grew. His schedule had been all over the place, leaving him with scarcely any breaks in between. Despite his love for his career and his unwavering dedication to giving his all, he couldn't help but wish that it didn't take such a toll on your relationship. Even if you never complained about the months of being apart, only communicating through text messages, and maybe a phone call if he was lucky, Mark still carried a sense of guilt for not being able to give you the time you truly deserved.

So when you dropped by his group’s photoshoot (after he indirectly implied that you come to visit him), he was beyond excited. Unfortunately, you came when it was his turn to take photos. Luckily, Chenle who was supposed to go after him, greeted you warmly.

"Oh, (Y/n)! What brings you here?" he exclaimed. The corner of your lips upturned into a smile when you caught the way the boy’s eyes lit up with excitement upon seeing a visitor on the set.

"It's been quite some time since Mark and I last saw each other," you explained. "He actually called me this morning, and I thought it wouldn't hurt to come by for an hour or so."

A teasing glint flashed across the boy’s eyes as he playfully nudged you. “Aw, you guys are so in love. Mark hyung hasn’t stopped complaining to us about how much he’s been missing you.”

Chenle's remark caused a faint shade of pink to tint your cheeks.

“Hm, I’m sure you’re just exaggerating,” You replied with a nudge back.

Mark frowned when he noticed Chenle talking to you. He was too far away to hear the conversation. But his stomach churned in unease when he observed you laughing at something the boy said.

"Mark-ssi, please stay focused," the camera director called out, effectively snapping him out of his momentary daze.

A sheepish smile spread across his face, displaying his embarrassment for getting distracted. He quickly redirected his attention back to the camera. Every so often he would steal glances at you and Chenle, resulting in having to redo some of the photos. Frustration began to build within Mark as impatience washed over him.

It felt like an eternity before he finally finished, and as soon as he was done, he walked across the room. You were caught by surprise when the boy engulfed you in a much-needed hug.

"Hello to you too?" you laughed, gently patting his back. Chenle and you exchanged amused glances before he excused himself to prepare for his photoshoot.

Mark pulled away slightly, allowing himself to get a better look at you. His eyes carefully scanned for any discernible changes within the past few months.

“I missed you so much,” He murmured, tenderly caressing your hand.

Your heart fluttered with affection as your hand moved to cup the side of his face. "I know. Chenle was telling me," you whispered.

His eyes widened, not expecting to hear that from you. “Oh…that’s what you two were talking about?”

You raised an eyebrow and tilted your head in confusion. But it didn't take long for you to connect the dots. “Don’t tell me you were jealous of us,” you teased, giving him a knowing look.

Mark's cheeks immediately flushed with a rosy hue at your words. "What? Me, jealous? Never—I just, uh, I thought—”

Before he could continue stammering, you interrupted by rising on the tips of your toes to wrap your arms around him once more. The height difference didn't diminish the sense of security he felt being embraced in your arms.

“You’re just too adorable, Mark Lee,” you said in an endearing tone.

The affection you showed made Mark feel stupid for feeling jealous over a harmless interaction with his member. He found himself instinctively leaning in closer to snuggle into the comfort of your shoulder. No matter how busy life got for him, Mark cherished the fact that you were the one constant he could always rely on.

✎__________________________________________________________

RENJUN

Lately, he couldn’t help but notice the way Haechan had been acting more affectionate with you. It was the way he would casually wrap his arm around you or the playful exchanges of inside jokes that seemed to create an exclusive bond between the two of you. Of course, Renjun was happy to see the love of his life getting along with his members. He also knew you were someone who maintained clear boundaries. But it was just Lee Haechan who made him feel uneasy.

At first, Renjun tried to brush off his concerns, knowing Haechan was clingy with anyone he was close to. But he found himself subconsciously picking at every interaction between you, letting the twinge of jealousy seep into his heart.

One sunny afternoon, the three of you plus Mark gathered at the Dream dorm to bake some brownies. But not all the necessary ingredients were readily available. So you volunteered to go on a quick trip to the grocery store, and Mark joined you.

With the two of you gone, Renjun and Haechan found themselves alone. A subtle tension lingered in the air, primarily coming from Renjun. The obliviousness displayed by his friend irked him.

Unable to contain his frustration any longer, Renjun nudged him. “Hey, aren’t you too close with (Y/n) these days?”

Haechan seemed taken aback by the boy’s accusation. But a mischievous grin was quick to appear on his face.

“What? We’re just friends,” he replied.

The playful tone he used only caused Renjun’s irritation to grow. His fist came into contact with the counter in aggravation. “Look, just back off of her okay?”

Haechan had to suppress the urge to burst into laughter, finding it amusing how easily Renjun could be provoked. However, he never thought that witnessing Renjun's jealous side would be so entertaining. The realization only motivated him to push a few more buttons.

He raised an eyebrow in defiance. “What if I don’t want to?”

That was the last straw for Renjun, as he grabbed a fistful of flour and threw it at Haechan without thinking. Within seconds, the boy’s face and hair were covered in a cloud of white. Amused by the sudden attack, Haechan retaliated by flinging a handful of cocoa powder toward Renjun.

The heated moment quickly turned into a full-blown food fight. Flour and sugar filled the air as egg shells were scattered across the kitchen island. Mark and you returned with wide eyes, completely bewildered by the disaster that had unfolded in their absence.

“Okay, what the hell happened here?” Mark asked, eyes darting back and forth between the two boys who were covered head to toe in flour.

Renjun locked eyes with your concerned ones, and the remnants of his anger began to dissipate. He surveyed the chaotic scene before him, feeling a pang of embarrassment. Allowing jealousy to consume him seemed trivial now as he observed the mess he made.

Feeling a mix of emotions, Renjun quietly excused himself and headed to the bathroom to clean up. Meanwhile, Mark and Haechan took the initiative to restore order in the kitchen. On the other hand, you felt the need to check on your boyfriend.

As Renjun splashed water on his face, he heard the door creak open. It was you, holding a damp towel in your hands.

“(Y/n),” he murmured, feeling a little flustered. “I’m sorry…I just lost my temper back there.”

You approached him with a soft smile, before reaching to gently wipe away a spot of flour on his neck. “I could tell. Do you mind me asking why?”

Renjun held your gaze for a few lingering seconds before releasing a sigh. “It’s just…seeing Haechan being all over you bothered me. I know it’s stupid to feel jealous because he’s my best friend and all but…the feeling got harder to ignore.”

“It’s not stupid at all,” You spoke up, carefully moving the cloth to his jaw. “I understand how you feel. But you know Haechan and I are just friends, dear.”

The sincerity in your eyes made his heart melt. “I know…”

You chuckled, finding the pout on his face to be utterly endearing. With a tender smile, you leaned in closer to gently pluck a piece of eggshell from his hair.

“Huh, you’re kinda cute when jealous.”

Your affectionate remark caused him to blush, leaving his heart racing. Before he could respond, you closed the distance between the two of you with a reassuring kiss on his lips.

“I only like you, Injunnie. You are the one who holds a special place in my heart,” you whispered.

He let your words sink in, feeling the weight of their meaning wash over him. The previous embarrassment melted away, replaced by a warm, comforting feeling that enveloped his being. Renjun's arms instinctively wrapped around your waist, pulling you into a tight embrace. "I love you so much," he whispered back, the words filled with sincerity and affection.

At that moment, as he held you close, Renjun knew with absolute certainty that he was the one who had captured your heart. All the worries and doubts that had plagued him faded away, replaced by a profound sense of contentment and assurance.

✎__________________________________________________________

JENO

The two of you were enjoying a cozy evening at his dorm, curled up together on the sofa watching an MCU movie. The room was filled with occasional commentary about what occurred on the screen, and the sound of popcorn crunching between your fingers. However, your moment of peace was soon interrupted when NCT Dream’s maknae strolled into the living room.

“Wait, are you guys watching Guardians of the Galaxy?” Jisung asked, his eyes widening with intrigue.

You nodded, gently removing yourself from Jeno's embrace, which caused a slight frown to appear on his face. "Yeah, would you like to join us?"

“Really? Is that okay?” Hesitation tinged his voice as he glanced between you and Jeno. A smile formed on your lips as you patted the open space on the couch beside you.

“Yes, of course!”

Jisung returned your smile with an appreciative one, grateful to be included. He flopped down on the couch and made himself comfortable beside you. Jeno couldn’t help but feel a pang of jealousy when he saw you playfully ruffle Jisung’s hair with a sense of endearment.

As a few minutes ticked by, the playful interactions between the two of you only served to amplify the pout on Jeno’s lips. He was a little sulky because why were you giving Jisung more attention than him?

When you became engrossed in one of the action scenes of the film, Jeno took the opportunity to give Jisung a death glare. To his satisfaction, Jisung’s eyes widened at the lasers shooting from his hyung’s eyes.

"Actually, (Y/n), I just remembered that Chenle and I had plans to play a video game," Jisung abruptly excused himself, his voice slightly rushed.

The pout on Jeno's face transformed into a smug smile as he saw Jisung dash out of the room. On the other hand, you were left feeling confused.

“Aw, he left so suddenly.”

"Well, that's unfortunate," he said, feigning disappointment. "But hey, now you have me all to yourself. You can shower me with all your affection instead."

Jeno’s sudden clingy behavior made you realize the situation. Honestly, you thought it was kind of funny seeing Jeno jealous of his younger member. Then there was the other part of you who felt bad, understanding that you inadvertently excluded him on what was supposed to be your date night.

“I’m sorry Jeno-ssi,” You cooed, leaning to plant a gentle kiss on his cheek. “I didn’t mean to make you feel left out.”

The eye smile you adored so much on him was quick to appear. He wasted no time in pulling you closer into his warm embrace.

“It’s okay,” he murmured, resting his chin on the top of your head. “But you do owe me a few kisses to make up for it.”

You laughed at how cute he sounded at that moment. Normally, his suggestive remarks made you feel a bit shy. But tonight you let your heart take control for once. With a surge of passion, you wrapped your arms around his neck and pulled him down so your lips could lock with his

Jeno's smile widened with eagerness as he welcomed your boldness. He shifted his hand to gently rest on the back of your head, pulling you even closer as he deepened the kiss, intensifying the connection between you both. Regrettably, the movie became a distant memory as the focus shifted entirely to the passionate exchange between you. However, neither of you had any complaints about the delightful deviation from the initial plan.

✎__________________________________________________________

HAECHAN

Just as you stepped out of a literature class, Haechan sent a text that cause a smile to grace your lips. That's how you ended up sitting in SM's cafeteria with your boyfriend during his lunch break, accompanied by Jaemin, whom you had recently been introduced to. Currently, Jaemin was showing you some photos from places they traveled during the tour.

"Wow, you took all these? Do you edit them on your phone?" You gasped in awe. Your eyes filled with admiration as you gazed at a breathtaking picture of a city view.

Jaemin smiled modestly and nodded, “Yeah when I don’t have a tablet with me. I make use of whatever time I have to edit.”

Inattentively, the two of you leaned in closer, engrossed in Jaemin's demonstration of the app he used for photo editing. Unbeknownst to you, Haechan had been observing with a growing scowl on his face. Feeling a bit left out, he cleared his throat conspicuously.

“Excuse me, did you guys forget I was here?” He interjected, crossing his arms and narrowing his eyes at the both of you.

Jaemin tilted his head in amusement. “Oh, is someone feeling jealous?”

"Me, jealous?" Haechan scoffed, sticking his tongue in his cheek. “Well of course, I am! Do you guys really have to sit so close?”

You stifled a laugh, finding it hilarious how Haechan didn’t even try to hide his jealousy. His transparent display of possessiveness was a side you hadn’t seen in him before.

“Hyuck…” Your voice trailed off, meeting his eyes. As if to make a point, he wrapped an arm around your waist to pull you closer to him.

“But hey, (Y/n) is mine, so I’m allowed to be a bit territorial right?” He added with a playful wink your way.

Jaemin scrunched his nose in disgust. “Okay, I get it! Gosh (Y/n), how do you put up with him?”

You couldn't help but chuckle at Haechan's possessiveness. Leaning into him a little, you silently reassured him of your affection and presence. The gesture secretly melted Haechan's heart, filling him with warmth and a sense of adoration that he couldn't help but cherish.

✎__________________________________________________________

JAEMIN

After day three of his group’s three-hour concert, Jaemin gladly accepted your offer to retreat to your apartment for some much-needed rest. There weren’t enough words to convey the sheer happiness he felt, as he finally had the opportunity to unwind and spend some quality time with someone he loved deeply.

While Jaemin was in your bathroom, taking a quick shower to freshen up, you patiently waited for him in bed. With your phone in hand, you passed the time by scrolling through social media. As Jaemin settled down beside you, you came across a Twitter post featuring a photo that a fan had taken of Jeno during the concert.

“Wow, I never noticed how defined Jeno’s muscles are. He looks amazing,” You said without thinking.

Jaemin couldn't help but form a pout on his lips as he leaned over your shoulder, trying to catch a glimpse of the photo that had captured your attention. He couldn’t ignore the pang of envy that flickered inside him.

“I have muscles too, you know,” He grumbled in a low voice.

Your head turned in his direction and laughed. It didn’t take long for your heart to melt at the sight of his sulky expression. It was hard to resist finding his pouty demeanor adorable at that moment.

Setting your phone aside, you scooted closer to Jaemin, closing any remaining distance between the two of you. You nestled your head against his steadily rising chest, finding the rhythmic movement of his heart to be calming.

"Just because I think another guy is good-looking, it doesn't mean I like him," you whispered, wrapping your arms tenderly around his waist. "Because you're the only man I have eyes for, Na Jaemin."

Jaemin felt his discontentment slowly dissolve as he relaxed into your warm embrace, and let the sincerity of your words sink in. You snuggled closer to him and reached one hand to stroke his bicep, feeling the firmness of his muscles beneath your touch. He closed his eyes momentarily, allowing any remaining doubts to melt away.

“I’ll have you know, I thought you were very sexy tonight,” you confessed with a shy smile.

His eyes opened again in slight surprise, as those types of compliments were rare from you. “Really?” He asked.

As you nodded, Jaemin's beautiful smile reappeared, radiating pure joy and affection. He couldn't resist leaning closer, pressing a gentle kiss to your forehead as a sweet gesture of tenderness. Not long after, he moved to capture your lips in another loving kiss, sealing the moment with a shared sense of connection and sentiment. You seriously had no idea how madly in love he was with you.

✎__________________________________________________________

CHENLE

Typically, Chenle wasn’t prone to jealousy when in a relationship. He understood the value of trust and believed wholeheartedly in the commitment he shared with you. However there were the occasional moments when his usually calm composure would crack, and a hint of possessiveness would emerge if he saw you getting close with another member.

One late night, you, Chenle, and Renjun gathered around for a steaming hot pot. Before meeting your boyfriend, you had casually listened to their group’s music and Renjun happened to catch your attention. You couldn’t help but feel captivated by his voice in songs. Although you tried not to get too ahead of yourself, your lasting impression of the singer compelled you to muster up the courage to say at least something.

“I’m sorry, I just have to say that I really admire your vocals,” you stammered. “The clarity of your voice sounds so satisfying, but I can also feel the emotions of the lyrics.”

Renjun’s face lit up with a bashful smile. “Aw, you’re too kind (Y/n)-ssi.”

Chenle silently observed the two of you, feeling a small flame ignite inside him. Usually, he’d be enthusiastic to see two people he considered to be close, getting along. Normally, he would be thrilled to witness one of his closest friends getting along so well with you. He guessed, that it was his lack of presence in the conversation that left him feeling unsettled.

“Babe, didn’t you say you liked my voice too?”

Renjun and you glanced up, momentarily taken aback by the boy's sudden disruption. He spoke so nonchalantly. Only you two were able to detect the underlying motive of his interjection.

You slowly smiled, “I do, don’t worry. You’re still my favorite singer, Lele.”

Chenle’s expression softened as your simple words immediately affirmed him. Renjun sat back with a smile and observed the boy’s affectionate side take over. Chenle encouraged you to eat more and even picked up a piece of meat with his chopsticks to feed you.

encouraged you to eat more, and even picked up a piece of meat with his chopsticks to feed you.

It was weird to witness his usually carefree member be so fond of someone. But Renjun felt content, understanding the immense joy you brought into Chenle’s life. He looked forward to watching the love between you two continue to blossom into something beautiful.

✎__________________________________________________________

JISUNG

His energy levels were starting to dwindle from the long hours of grueling dance practice. But when you showed up with food from his take-out place, Jisung’s spirits were instantly boosted.

Your occasional visits during their breaks had become something Jisung cherished greatly. Gathering in a circle with you and the other members on the studio floor, they would munch on the food you brought and chatter about miscellaneous subjects. Being surrounded by people who were like family to him created a warm and comforting atmosphere that Jisung held dear.

As the others were conversing, you couldn’t help but notice Mark fumbling with his chopsticks to get a perilla leaf. Without a second thought, you naturally reached out with your chopsticks to help him out and safely place the vegetable into the male’s bowl.

Jisung watched this interaction unravel before him, his brows furrowing slightly as Mark sent you a grateful smile. The ongoing perilla leaf debate that had been circulating within the community, came to his mind.

“Aw (Y/n), did you really have to help him?” He whined.

You turned in his direction with a confused expression. The other members were quickly amused by the maknae’s displeased state. Then Haechan who was sitting on the opposite side of you started to tease.

“Awww, our Jisungie is jealous,” He sang. Jisung shot his hyung a glare, feeling defensive.

“I am not.”

“Oh really?” The elder asked before leaning over to hug you tightly. The unexpected gesture caused a warm blush to rise to your cheeks. “Then me hugging her shouldn’t be a problem, right?” Haechan challenged.

Jisung’s face also flushed a tinge of crimson, though not due to sudden shyness. “Yah, you can’t do that!”

Chenle, never one to miss an opportunity to mess with Jisung, was the next to join in on the playful banter. “Relax Jisung-ah, it’s not like you own (Y/n) or anything,” He quipped, sticking his tongue out mischievously before enveloping you in a hug as well.

Soon, you became more flustered when the other members couldn’t resist joining in on the teasing of their maknae and formed a joyful group hug around you.

You had to admit it was a little funny to see Jisung’s mildly frustrated reaction, as the member’s laughter filled the air. Also, you didn’t think you’d been hugged by this many people before.

Deciding you had seen enough of your boyfriend’s pouty face, you reached your hand out.

“Come here, Park Jisung,” you coaxed with a gentle smile.

Jisung let out a small sigh, before moving closer to join you in the comforting embrace. He closed his eyes and allowed himself to take in the warmth of the moment. He was reminded of how much you and his hyungs meant to him. No matter how often they got on his nerves.

✎__________________________________________________________

#nct #nct dream #nct dream fluff #nct dream scenarios #nct dream reactions #nct dream imagines #kpop #mark lee #renjun #jeno #jaemin #haechan #chenle #jisung #nct dream x reader #kpop fic #nctzen #czennies

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idiot-cheesehead-archenemy · 7 months ago

Text

Fancy Meeting You Here

Word count: 4629

Warnings: implied parental abuse

Prompt: Danny sneaks into a fancy party that happens to be attended by one Vlad Masters

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

The evening had been going pretty well.

Danny had noticed the mansion while flying in the area a few days ago. He'd come back tonight to see what he could lift - nothing that would be badly missed, of course, maybe some food and cash - and had been pleasantly surprised to find a lawn party in progress. Parties always had the best food, and though he knew he was risking getting caught, he also knew that he was capable of pretending to be a rich socialite for at least a few minutes when necessary. That should get him far enough.

He flew back to the city, taking an appropriately sized suit from a store he knew - it would be returned by the time they opened in the morning - and again to the mansion to scope out the scene.

The lawn itself was not massive, a rectangle about the size of a football field. Still, it gave the few hundred guests plenty of space to mill about without getting in each other’s way. The mansion was probably half a football field in total area, spread across several irregularly shaped wings. Danny didn’t see many people inside; it seemed the guests only went in to use the restrooms. The building made up one edge of the lawn, another edge ran along the parking area and driveway, and the other two butted against the thick forest that covered most of this region. The entire property was surrounded by a barbed-wire fence, no doubt lined with cameras, but Danny had barely given that a thought as he flew invisibly overhead.

He did note the black-clothed security guards walking the perimeter and roving through the sparse crowd. They might be an issue, but there were so many people here that it would take some time before they noticed him. Enough time to grab a few handfuls of hors d'oeuvres, at least.

After walking casually out of a restroom, Danny made a beeline for one of the food tables, smiling and nodding at people as he passed. He found an assortment of tiny sandwiches, fruits, and vegetables. All of it had been artfully arranged at some point, but the effect was less impressive after about half the food was gone.

He picked through the sandwiches, finding various nut butters and thinly-sliced meats with strong scents that didn’t quite appeal to him. He did grab a couple of carrot sticks, though; he had to be the adult and remind himself to eat healthy, now that there was no one else doing it for him.

The next food table was more interesting - a mixture of cooked and raw fish and other seafoods, with a rainbow of toppings and side dishes that reminded Danny, probably intentionally, of a coral reef. This table, too, was at least half-empty, but there was plenty left to choose from.

“I’d pass on the caviar,” said an older woman on the other side of the table. Danny had not been reaching for the caviar, but he pulled his hand back and gave her a grateful look. “Far too salty,” she continued. “But that bluefin -” she nodded toward a plate of pink cubes coated in black sesame seeds - “is perfection.”

“I appreciate the advice, thank you.”

“Waters, Kindra,” she said, as if Danny had been asking for her name. He wasn’t quite sure which name was supposed to be first. “And you are?”

“Andy Benson.” It was his preferred alias; something close enough to his real name that he would turn his head automatically when he heard it.

“It’s a pleasure to make your acquaintance, Andy.”

“Likewise.”

“May I ask whom you’re here with?”

“Oh, he’s …” Danny looked around, as if surprised that his responsible adult wasn’t right next to him. “Actually, if you’ll excuse me,” he said, still turned away. He didn’t really have anywhere to go, though, with the whole party being in a single open space. Maybe he should go back inside and turn invisible so he could continue browsing the food without risking any more awkward conversations.

He got about halfway back to the house before feeling a tap on one shoulder.

A broad man wearing all black and an obvious earpiece stood behind him. His shirt didn’t actually say “security” in a bold white font, but it may as well have.

Well, crap. Danny probably should have given them more credit. He quickly scanned the crowd, wondering what had given him away. Maybe his age; he didn't see any other teenagers in the immediate vicinity.

Turning fully to face the guard, Danny channelled his inner rich asshole. “Do you need something?” he sneered.

“What’s your name?” The security guard’s tone suggested that he had already decided Danny wasn’t supposed to be here, but protocol didn’t allow him to drag the teen away just yet.

“Benson, first name Andrew. I’m on the list.” Danny crossed his arms impatiently.

“Andrew Benson,” the guard said into his earpiece. After a few moments of silence, he said, “You sure the Hell aren’t.”

“Oh, that’s ridiculous. Who is in charge of this list? I want their first and last name. And for that matter -”

“There you are!”

Danny and the security guard both turned toward the voice. A tall man with long silver hair was striding purposefully in their direction.

“Mr. Masters?” The security guard sounded slightly cowed, now that he was faced with an actual rich asshole. “You know this boy?”

“I was just telling them,” Danny started quickly, hoping he’d read the man’s intentions correctly, “they said there’s no Andrew Benson on the list, and I was just saying -” The man, Mr. Masters, held up a hand to silence him.

“What’s this about Andrew not being on the guest list? He’s my plus-one.”

The guard spoke into his earpiece again, looking apologetic. “Does Masters have a plus-one?” After another few moments he said, “I’m sorry sir, you don’t have a plus-one listed. And, if I may be so bold -” Mr. Master’s glare suggested that the guard did not, in fact, have his permission to be so bold, but he continued regardless, “- I checked everyone in personally. I don’t remember seeing this young man with you, or at all.”

“That’s ridiculous. Are you implying that I not only failed to inform Mr. Marra about my guest, but also somehow lost track of said guest before we even got through the gates?”

“I don’t mean to imply anything, sir, I’m just -”

“Just doing your job, I’m sure. Well, then, how about you run and tell your boss that you think a teenager got past your security team, and I can tell him that you were harassing one of his guests, and then he can decide which story he likes better and what to do about it. Does that sound reasonable?”

The guard looked uncomfortable, but he didn’t back down. Danny had to respect that, even if it was inconvenient for him. “I will have to make a report, Mr. Masters.”

“Please do. If more accurate reports had been kept in the first place, we wouldn’t even be having this discussion. In the meantime, however, I’d ask that you leave myself and young Andrew to enjoy the party in peace, hm?”

The security guard looked to Danny, then Mr. Masters, and finally nodded. “Of course sir; I apologise for the disruption.”

Before walking away, he threw one last narrow-eyed look at Danny, leaving no doubt in Danny’s mind that, whatever this random rich guy had to say about it, security would be keeping a close eye on him from now on. Annoying, but not a disaster. He’d gotten away clean from worse situations than this.

Running through possible escape scenarios, Danny allowed Mr. Masters to lead him to the edge of the treeline. A handful of people followed the duo with their eyes, no doubt having been eavesdropping on their encounter with security.

“I trust you understand what just happened,” Mr. Masters said when they stopped, his voice low but stern. “I’ve vouched for you, which means, from this point forward, your actions reflect on me. Behave yourself, or you will regret it. Is that clear?”

Danny wondered if this guy was a dad. If so, he felt bad for his kids.

Resisting the urge to roll his eyes or do a mock-salute, Danny simply said “Yes, sir.” He figured someone like this probably wouldn’t accept being called much less than “sir” by the likes of him, and now probably wasn’t the best moment to offend him. Later, maybe …

“Good.” He straightened his already-straight, perfectly-pressed suit and scanned the crowd. Idly, almost as if to himself, he asked, “What do you enjoy?”

“... I’m sorry?”

“Enjoy,” he repeated, eyes still on the other guests. “What interests you? Art, mathematics, technology, … video games, I don’t know.” When Danny still didn’t answer after a few seconds, he added, “These sorts of events are about networking as much as anything; everyone will expect me to introduce you to people, especially people who work in fields you may be interested in. I’m trying to figure out who you can talk to without making an ass of yourself.”

“Oh. Uhm …” He could lie, but why bother? It wasn’t like his desire to be an astronaut was some kind of identifying characteristic. And anyway, it would be a lot easier to keep up his cover if he wasn’t also trying to improvise his way through conversations about subjects he didn’t know anything about.

Of course, it would be even easier to just say he had to go to the bathroom and then disappear … But he’d barely even tasted the food, and it could be fun to talk to people who worked in astronautics, assuming anyone here actually did.

“Space travel, and astrophysics, that kind of thing.”

Mr. Masters looked at him then, maybe trying to figure out if he was lying, or maybe just surprised by the answer. His expression was hard to read.

Danny suddenly wondered whether the expensive suit he was wearing was expensive enough, or maybe too expensive. Could rich people tell how much a suit cost just by looking at it? Did Mr. Masters suspect that it was stolen? Come to think of it, why hadn’t he asked any questions? And, for that matter, why hadn’t Danny?

“I don’t mean to sound ungrateful … sir. But why are you covering for me at all?”

Mr. Masters’ gaze had returned to the people milling about the yard - some of whom, Danny noted, were still throwing occasional glances their way. He didn’t turn or otherwise acknowledge Danny’s question, though Danny didn’t doubt he’d heard. He spoke after a moment, still looking away. That seemed to be a habit of his.

“Our host’s name is Edward Marra. He owns the parent company of many of the big names in cobalt mining and processing. This party is to celebrate his recent acquisition of what was previously his biggest rival company in the Asian market. I’ll point him out when I see him. You won’t really be expected to know who anyone else is, but you will be expected to act duly impressed whenever they mention what they do, and to remember names. Can you handle that?”

Acting impressed, probably. Remembering names, probably not.

“Sure.”

“Good. And do wipe the cream cheese off your sleeve.”

Danny frowned as he inspected both sleeves. There was a tiny bit of something white on one of the hems; it must have been from when he was reaching across the table of tiny sandwiches. Danny wiped it off with his finger and then tasted it, confirming that it was, in fact, cream cheese. How had Mr. Masters known that?

The man was already walking away, and Danny hurried to catch up.

No one did work in astronautics, it turned out, but Danny met several people who’s companies had contracts with NASA, and others who simply had a personal interest in space exploration. One woman who couldn’t have been older than thirty spoke with passion about the need to create human-livable environments off-planet, before Earth itself became inhospitable. A man who couldn’t have been older than twenty-five spoke with passion about the vast potential for resource-extraction in asteroids.

Mr. Masters always introduced Danny as Andrew Benson, the son of some old college friends of his. Danny always corrected this with a polite “my friends call me Andy.”

It took what felt like an hour at least, and probably more than fifty introductions, for Danny to learn that Mr. Masters’ first name was Vlad. Though he always addressed people by first name, it seemed few were willing to be so informal in return. Was he much richer than most of the people here then? Or more powerful in some other way? A politician, maybe?

Vlad Masters. It sounded vaguely familiar. Then again, Danny had heard so many names in the last hour that they were all starting to sound alike.

Vlad had just exchanged a few pleasantries with a husband-and-wife duo of scientists - two of the few people in attendance who seemed to have gotten rich off their own work, rather than collecting salaries as executives of profitable companies - when something caught his eye. “Ah, there’s Edward. I wondered where he’d gotten to. If you’ll excuse us …”

Danny was glad for the distraction. Though the two scientists bore no physical resemblance to his parents, they reminded him of them in spirit, and it was not a welcome reminder.

Following Vlad, he tried to remember if he was supposed to know who ‘Edward’ was. Oh, right - the host. He worked in … mining? Diamond mining? No, that wasn’t it. And what was his last name?

The man they were approaching was distinctly middle-aged, but wearing it well. His shortish hair was a mix of blond and grey, and his face bore deep laugh lines. He noticed the pair coming and grinned, throwing his arms out by way of greeting. Danny wondered if he was a hugger.

“Vlad Masters,” he called while they were still several yards away. His voice was loud, projected like an actor’s, and seemed to fill the space despite them being outside. “They told me you were around here somewhere.” When they were close enough, Edward reached out both hands to shake Vlad’s enthusiastically.

“Edward,” Vlad said with a warm smile, “a pleasure as always. And may I be the, oh, three-hundredth, I’m sure, to congratulate you on your masterful acquisition.”

Edward grinned, somehow, even wider. “It means more coming from you than from the other three hundred combined.” Was that because Vlad was a good friend? Danny wondered, or because he was so much more successful than all the others? He kicked himself again for not asking more questions while they had some privacy. Who was this stranger he was following?

Then Edward looked down at Danny and shook his hand with just as much energy. His grip was firm but not hard, and his smile seemed genuine - but you could never be sure with these types.

“And this is our ghost, I presume.”

Danny froze.

He couldn't have guessed, could he? Would he be smiling like that if he had? Would he have taken Danny's hand so carelessly if he thought Danny was a dangerous monster? Surely not. Probably, this man didn't even believe in ghosts. Most people didn't.

But some people did.

Unpleasant memories prickled at the back of Danny's neck, and he worked to keep his attention in the present moment.

“Edward, this is Andrew Benson, the son of some old college friends. Andrew, this is our gracious host, Edward Marra.”

“My friends call me Andy,” Danny recited, not quite managing the smile and friendly laugh that were supposed to accompany the line.

“Andy,” Edward said warmly, like they really were friends. Danny did not think about his parents. “There's no need to be nervous; you're not in trouble. I'm just fascinated that no one seems to remember you coming in, or even have any record of your RSVP. And yet, here you are. Like you've appeared out of thin air.”

“Like a ghost.” Danny managed a small smile at that. Of course he'd meant it metaphorically. Danny dropped his shoulders and noted, pleasantly surprised, that his hands weren’t clenched into fists. He was fine.

“Spooky, isn't it?”

“But no real harm done, in the end,” Vlad added, possibly as a way to get away from the topic. Would Vlad face any consequences if someone found out he was covering for a party crasher? A few whispers and odd looks, maybe. Danny doubted someone like him had much experience with real consequences.

“No, heaven's no, of course not.” Edward waved a hand dismissively. “The important thing is that you're here now and enjoying the party.”

“Very much so, sir.”

“Then I've done my job. So tell me, Andy, what is it you want to do after school?”

“I want to be an astronaut.”

“An astronaut!” Again, Edward’s voice boomed out, probably audible even at the far end of the yard. “Well, there's a lofty goal, eh?” It took Danny a second to realise Edward was making a pun, so his laugh was late. Edward seemed to take no notice of this as he continued without missing a beat. “Shoot for the moon, that's what I always say. It's rare for someone to take that advice so literally.” He laughed at his own joke, and his laughter boomed too. Maybe this was why the party was held outside.

Despite himself, Danny was put at ease by Edward's joyful demeanour. It reminded him - no. It was just nice to talk to someone so unreservedly happy.

“To be completely honest, sir," Danny said with a wry smile, "I think the moon is a bit played out. I'm actually aiming for the stars.”

Edward boomed out another laugh, as Danny had expected he would.

“I think you’ve got a little disrupter on your hands, Vlad.” Edward winked conspiratorially at Danny. “That’s a compliment.”

Danny wasn’t quite sure what to say next, so he was relieved when Vlad took the attention off him again. Vlad and Edward made small talk about stock prices or something for a few minutes before Vlad pulled a “I don’t want to take up too much of your time” to end the conversation.

“Of course, of course, I have plenty more hands to shake. You two enjoy the rest of your evening. But keep an eye on this one, eh?” Edward gestured to Danny. “You never know when he might disappear again.”

“I’ll be sure to do that.” Though Vlad said this with a laugh, Danny sensed a conviction behind the words. It sounded a little like walking into a room and then hearing the door lock behind you.

This time when they walked away, Vlad didn’t lead Danny to yet another group of people, but instead was heading toward a nearly-empty food table with no one around it.

“He seemed pleasant,” Danny volunteered, keeping his tone light. He'd just ask to go to the restroom now. Vlad couldn't exactly say no to that, could he?

Vlad responded, predictably, without looking at him. “He would destroy you and everyone you’ve ever loved to save himself a penny.” He said it casually, like this fact was as interesting as the man’s birthday or shoe size. “And, just in case it wasn't clear, he absolutely knows you aren’t supposed to be here.”

What Danny heard was, ‘I am currently the only thing standing between you and the man you’ve slighted who has no qualms with murder.’

Though it sounded like a figure of speech, Danny suspected the description of Edward's character was more or less accurate. Danny remembered one of Sam’s rants about the diamond industry, and then reminded himself not to think about Sam. The point was, if Edward Marra ran a diamond mine or something close to that, he probably had, indeed, sacrificed lives for his fortune.

Was Vlad threatening him, then? Implying that, if Danny didn’t behave as he wished, he’d turn him over to Edward? Or suggesting that Danny owed him something now, since he had stepped in and put himself at risk to protect Danny?

Except, of course, Vlad didn’t seem remotely concerned for himself. All evidence suggested that, whatever Edward Marra might be capable of, Vlad Masters had nothing to fear from him.

“Who are you?”

Vlad finally turned toward Danny, wearing a hurt expression. “You mean you haven’t heard of me? Vlad Masters? Owner of Mastersoft?”

Danny couldn’t keep the dawning realisation off his face, though he schooled his expression as soon as he saw Vlad’s satisfied smile.

Vlad wasn’t just a rich guy. He wasn't even just a billionaire. He was one of the richest people in the world.

“What are you doing here?” Danny wasn’t exactly knowledgeable about the financial elite, but he didn’t think anyone else at this party was a multi-billionaire.

“Networking, as I said.”

“Why would you need to network?”

“Everyone needs to network,” Vlad said with a solemnity that suggested either a deeply-held belief or a very dry joke.

“Right,” Danny muttered. “Well … Thank you for helping me tonight. I think I’m pretty much partied-out, so I’ll probably just hit the restroom and then take off.”

Vlad nodded. “Indeed, I think I’ve had about all the small talk I can handle for the month. Shall we peruse the dessert table before we go?”

Vlad turned so they were side-by-side and simultaneously reached a hand behind Danny's back, like he was going to physically push him in his intended direction. Danny stepped away and turned so he was facing Vlad again. Unfazed, Vlad smoothly moved his hands behind his own back, striking a pose that should have seemed silly but looked natural for him.

“I didn’t mean that you had to leave just because I am,” Danny clarified.

“What, am I to stay and mingle without you? What would people say? ‘Where’s that charming young man that was with you earlier? Lost track of him again, have you?’ I’d have no answer.”

No, Danny supposed that would be kind of a bad look. Not that that was his problem. “Okay. I’ll go to the restroom while you say your goodbyes, then we’ll meet at the gate.”

“So you can disappear on me? I think not.”

Well, he wasn't stupid; Danny had to give him that.

“Where would I go? There are security guards and a huge fence.”

“Just as there were when you came in.”

Danny huffed, slightly frustrated with himself. It would have been simpler to leave as soon as security had clocked him.

“Fine. We walk out together, then go our own ways. If you think I’m getting in a car with you, you’re nuttier than a can of snakes.” Vlad raised an eyebrow but didn’t ask.

“It will be a bit difficult to explain why I’m getting into the car without you.”

“I leave it to your vastly superior intellect to think of something.”

Vlad inclined his head, allowing that.

They did, in fact, hit the dessert table before they left. It was hard for Danny to limit himself to one plate, but without a more stable container, and knowing he’d be flying soon, he didn’t have much choice. He did, however, stack and interlock as much as he possibly could, grateful that the plates were sturdy ceramic instead of paper. He didn’t expect anyone to stop him from walking out with one of the plates - though he certainly wasn’t supposed to, he was also with Vlad Masters - and no one did.

When Vlad’s driver arrived in a twelve-foot long limo, Vlad explained that he’d decided to enjoy the night air for a little bit longer, telling the driver to wait a mile or so up the road.

“Very good sir,” the driver said, like he was trying to sound like every stereotypical butler in every movie, except that his accent was less British and more New Jersey. Vlad didn't acknowledge the random teenager beside him, and the driver followed suit.

“I see you went with one of your more modest limos,” Danny deadpanned as they started down the long driveway.

“Naturally, I didn't want to upstage the host.”

They walked along the side of the road that bordered the Marra property, marked by the tall fence that ran as far as Danny could see from his current vantage. The other side of the road was the edge of the forest. Danny only needed to go a few yards in to be confident he was hidden, and then he’d be free to go ghost and fly back to his temporary home.

“You know,” Vlad began, interrupting Danny considering whether to split off now or wait until Vlad and his driver were gone, “I’m not actually planning to kidnap you. If there’s somewhere you’d like a ride to …”

“Thanks, but no thanks. I found my way here; I can find my way back.”

“And how did you find your way here? You obviously didn't drive. We’re really not within walking distance of anything, or even reasonable cycling distance."

Shoot, had he given away too much? No, Vlad would have been wondering that anyway; at worst Danny had called attention to what was already a suspicious detail. And anyway, there were plenty of non-ghost-related possibilities.

He shrugged. “I have my ways.”

Vlad smiled slightly and nodded, probably having expected a response like that. Why would Danny answer honestly, after all? Most likely, Vlad had only asked to let Danny know that he was suspicious. Maybe it was another subtle threat, implying that he was curious about Danny and would be looking for answers. Or maybe Danny was being paranoid. Or maybe one of the most powerful people in the world - someone who could probably get some security camera footage and access to a police database if he really wanted to - had taken an undue interest in Danny, and Danny should get as far away from him as he could as soon as possible.

“I’m going to leave now,” Danny said, not seeing much point in tact. “I’m going to cross the street and walk into the forest and you’re not going to see me again after that.”

“Watch out for wolves,” was all Vlad said in reply. So Danny crossed the street, glancing behind him constantly. Vlad never broke his stride and showed no sign of even remembering that Danny was there.

What had the past hour and a half been to him? A brief distraction from the monotony of yet another boring “party”? A good deed for a clearly troubled youth? Or the beginnings of a puzzle he intended to solve?

A few times in his life, Danny had been truly lost, with no idea how to even begin searching for familiar territory. When it happened, he never felt himself becoming lost; he firmly believed that the way back was clear, until he tried to take it. Then he would realise that he had, in fact, been going the wrong way for hours.

Danny had a sense like that now - looking back on the evening, trying to figure out exactly where he had turned right when he should have turned left. Should he have run from the security guard? Should he have just stayed invisible from the start? At what point had this outcome become inevitable?

Granted, Vlad had given no real sign that he cared one way or another where Danny had come from or where he was going. Maybe there really was nothing to worry about. Still, as he watched Vlad Masters stroll casually away, Danny couldn't shake the feeling that he hadn't seen the last of him.

#danny phantom #phic phight #phic phight 2024 #badger cereal #vlad masters #danny fenton #my writing #fanfic #not really badger cereal tbh #it would become badger cereal if i continued it but i have no current plans to do that #this is edited somewhat from what i submitted for points fwiw

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sarahreesbrennan · 10 months ago

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Hello! If IOL were to get adapted into a TV show (or film I suppose), what are some things you'd be excited for, or things you'd want revealed that we don't get from Elliot's POV?

(also fun fact: my name is Elliot too! It may or may not have been very helpful in getting me to read the book three years ago)

Hi Elliot! A fine name. :)

The silver screen by its nature allows us into more points of view - it’s why my TV tie-ins always had more and briefer PoVs than I usually write, to give the same effect as a moving camera. And In Other Lands is a very limited third by design, since we really have to feel Elliot’s feelings to be in it with him. So immediately a visual, more-on-the-surface medium would open the story up to more reveals - there’s a lot to be done with Serene and Luke, and (for my money) with Captain Woodsinger, Golden, Adara and Myra.

The question also arises what the director’s or showrunner’s vision is, because the showrunner would not be me. There are so many different ways to tell a tale.

If they’re going gritty child soldiers, there’s more to be done with the wars between the different peoples, with dryads and dwarves, and with Delia Winterchild and her lost twin. If they’re going, say, romcom like a fantasy Heartstopper, we’re probably putting Wings In the Morning and In Other Lands in a blender and starting with the characters 15 and up. If they’re doing children’s adventure a la (gayer, weirder) Percy Jackson, we might meet the key three waking up in their respective settings on the day they head off to the Border camp - Serene exiting in a rebellious huff after blazing row with her mother, Luke worried under the weight of loving expectation, Elliot totally clueless and friendless in another world - are these children going to meet? What will hap— Holy SHIT the redhead is being rude! But we’d get it, because we saw where he came from.

The mood of a story is often dictated by what information you parcel out when.

And TV throws curveballs. (Movies less often.) What if the Elliot and Adara actors had lightning-in-a-bottle chemistry? What if Luke and Dale did? I hardly dare imagine. But then again, if it was a She-Ra-style animated series, that would be far less likely. So it’s hard to say what I’d be excited for, as I wouldn’t know what to expect!

I’d be really excited if they did any kind of series, because that’s such a show of faith in my work. And it would mean more job security, and new covers, and more chances for me to get more readers and perhaps most important of all to write more in the In Other Lands world… which (more on this later) I would love to do.

A show is always a wild shot - I’d always try to think of the books as my first concern, as they might do something totally bonkers with an adaptation. (Me, if Luke and Serene fell in romantic love while Elliot died a cowardly weasel’s death: What Show? I Cannot Perceive the Moving Pictures, I Just Do Not Know.) Buuuut, if it ever did happen, I would love to see more of the interdynamics at the Border camp, stuff that flew totally over Elliot’s head. I’d love to have Golden introduced earlier. I’d love to have the harpies in sooner, but as a sinister presence until the big reveal. And of course, channeling my inner Elliot, I’d love to see the mermaids. Throw the whole budget at mermaids!

Thanks for asking, and dreaming with me. 💜

#in other lands #sarah rees brennan #books books books #book adaptation #pjo tv adaptation #heartstopper #she ra

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heartub · 1 year ago

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my ideal bit-based d20 season would be as follows

the dm: brennan lee mulligan (this is crucial due to the required party to real life table dynamic)

the pcs:

emily axford: elf sorcerer

lou wilson: tiefling warlock

brian murphy: some fucked up little druid guy

siobhan thompson: fae wizard

aabria iyengar: human wizard

zac oyama: human fighter

trust me on this

the setting is modern fantasy where all the pcs work for the same magic company but they start to notice that things are a little bit

funky

so they all band together to investigate. siobhan & lou have the most power in the company of the party, but it's importsnt to note that siobhan is slightly less competent that aabria.

this drives aabria bananas ofc, so we get silly moments very akin to "anyone can cast fireball," she's always complaining to whoever will listen so it's silly fun time

murph & emily are both interns, emily was given the position via nepotism so she feels perfectly comfortable doing shenanigans to get to the bottom of this. murph did not get here via nepotism so he's sweating the whole time about how emily will 100% get them fired

lou is having the time of his life he's working with a bunch of goofy guys and he gets to finally climb the corporate ladder like he deserves to after all these years, he's there to stir the pot a little while everyone else is going buck wild

you might be wondering why is zac oyama a human fighter? this is because a) he's the underpaid and exasperated head of security. the mages are so convinced that nothing but magic can stop them, but he knows better. b) so aabria can look at him like he's a camera from the office and be like look at all these non-human freaks. and c) to bring a little bit of colin provolone's just a guy energy to the table

the party at some point experiences goofy infighting so it becomes a silly argument where the sides are aabria & emily and siobhan & murph over the morality and effectiveness of magic use and they spend a good 10-15 minutes trying to get lou and zac to pick a side. they do not.

most of the campaign is just silly bickering

the bbeg is of course, capitalism

#dimension 20 #d20 #brennan lee mulligan #zac oyama #emily axford #lou wilson #brian murphy #aabria iyengar #siobhan thompson

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kitashousewife · 2 years ago

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you & me

an: i feel like gojo needs a break every now and then!! the chance to relax and i feel like he should get spoiled too!!!

pairings: gojo x fem!reader

warnings: angst from gojo, stress, anxiety, sorcerer au but everyone is happy and alive, alcohol mention and consumption, food mention, suggestive content

gojo's head hangs over the back of his desk chair as he lets out a long, exhaustion-filled sigh. he sways back and forth slightly, eyes shut, trying to relax for a few minutes. if he's not teaching, he's somewhere around the world on a mission. if he's not doing either of those, he's lying awake in bed with a drumming heart and a hyperactive mind.

with you by his side, of course.

being the strongest has its perks, for sure. challenges that help him grow and improve, opportunities to see the world, as well as more than enough financial stability. it's quite nice to be at the top.

it's pretty lonely as well.

the demand of it all has begun to take a toll on gojo, both mentally and physically. his bones ache, and his muscles strain more than they have before. just this morning during his training with the second years, he allowed himself to get pinned rather quickly by maki in 30 seconds. his fingers shake no matter how much he eats or drinks. even in his late twenties, gojo feels almost triple that.

the mental effects are a whole other story. at this point, he hasn't slept in almost four days, not that he hasn't tried. gojo's usually sharp mind is exhausted during fights, hyper-focused, and completely used up by the end of the day. and, for the first time in his life, he feels anxious. constantly looking behind himself, checking the school cameras, and even begging to install stricter security on your shared home than you already have.

he exhales, opening his eyes. he just wants a vacation.

"i'm really sorry, but nobody else is available," principal yaga sympathizes over the phone. the end of your pen taps on your notebook while you think.

"nobody from kyoto? what about a team? i know it's important, but satoru is tired and-"

"i know he is," yaga agrees. "but i told you, i can't find anyone else. i'm afraid that this mission needs someone of gojo's caliber. unless a miracle happens, i can't guarantee any time off. i'm sorry, i really am."

you rub your eyes, nodding as you cross off yet another failed idea.

"no worries. thank you for trying though."

you hang up and groan. this is the fifth idea that you've come up with today. valentine's is only a couple away, and you want to plan something special for your boyfriend. he's clearly overworked, yet he never fails to spoil you. it's your turn.

if something could work, of course.

you think for a few more minutes before giving up. you rise from your spot at the kitchen table, shuffling towards the fridge. at least you could make some dinner before he gets home.

"hey sweetheart," gojo's very tired frame comes through the garage door.

dinner will have to wait.

"hi! i'm so happy to see you." you give him a large hug, and notice that he leans into you a bit more than normal. he's already out of his blindfold and uniform jacket, both thrown on the floor near his shoes.

"i'm happier to see you. how about we order pizza or something? don't worry about cooking anything tonight."

you smile. even with his fatigue, he just wants to make you happy.

"whatever you want, 'toru."

the evening feels short. after eating dinner together and watching a couple episodes of a show that neither of you really notices, gojo heads to take a shower. you hope to figure out more of the valentine's festivities before he comes out.

you think about surprising him at work. going there early, setting up some decorations and his favorite treats all nice before he arrives. it's a great plan, except he would notice you were gone.

you consider seeing a movie, maybe even the nice theater that opened up. much to your dismay, every show time is sold out.

you're about to try another theater when your phone rings.

"i'm so sorry for calling this late. do you have a few minutes?" it's yaga again. he only calls you if he can't get ahold of gojo himself. your stomach turns.

"don't apologize. and sure, is everything okay?"

he chuckles. "actually, yes. turns out the kyoto branch wants to handle it. they have a team that i'm fairly confident will be able to get the job done, and then some."

your turning changes to butterflies. "what are you saying?"

the smile in your voice must be evident, as he laughs again.

"i'm saying that you're clear. gojo won't have any missions for at least a couple weeks, so he's all yours."

you jump up and down a couple times. "oh, my gosh. thank you, so much. i can't thank you enough."

"don't mention it. he deserves it."

you end the call, running over to your laptop. you might be able to pull this off.

"what's got you so excited?"

"satoru!"

he grins from behind you. he knows how much you hate when he sneaks up on you.

"really though, everything okay?"

"yeah. everything is perfect."

you shuffle by him towards your shared bedroom. he raises an eyebrow. his lithe frame leans against the wall while you grab pajamas.

"you're hiding something."

"six-eyes tell you that?"

he snorts. "no, i just know you. tell me, pretty girl. what's going on?"

"you'll find out in a couple days!" you peck him on the lips and get into bed. he joins you with a shake of his head. for the first time in a while, gojo gets a few hours of sleep.

if someone was to win the world's most impatient award, it would be gojo satoru. you're happy that today is the day to finally spoil your boyfriend, but a large part of you is happy to be done with his prying.

you complete the finishing touches on your look, finalizing the plan in your head. thanks to some friends, you were able to get a table at one of the nicest restaurants in tokyo. five courses, dessert, everything is perfect. you will finish the night in a hotel, one that overlooks the city and is luxurious in every sense of the word.

"how do i look?"

you look at your reflection and see your boyfriend staring back at you. black glasses rest on the tip of his nose, and white hair falls around his face. he's in a simple black suit, and shiny dress shoes, complete with a pricey-looking watch.

"you look amazing, as usual. are you ready?"

a low whistle sneaks through his lips as you walk by him. blue eyes drag up your figure and gojo can't help himself. he grabs you by the wrist, pulling you into his chest with a coy smile.

"i'm sure we could spare a few minutes," he smiles wide now, keeping one hand on your waist as the other sneaks up to the zipper of your dress. you put a hand on his chest to push him back, and he pouts.

"we do not, 'toru. we need to go or you'll ruin the surprise. you sure you want that?"

he trails behind you with a whine. "i'm okay with the idea of it," he jokes, raising his eyebrows at you, but you shake your head.

"i'm serious, it's time to go!"

gojo's fingers pull at the drivers seat, but you wave him off quickly.

"what! at least let me drive," he pouts once again, and you giggle.

"you don't even know where you're going! it's not a far drive anyway, get in please!"

he gives up, finally letting you spoil him. he would never admit it, but he feels terrible he didn't plan something for valentine's day first. every year he's done something elaborate. trips, jewelry, booking entire restaurants, renting out entire beaches, anything flashy and loud to scream to the world that you're his. he can't help but feel a little down, though. gojo is nothing if not showy, especially when it comes to you.

the drive is relatively short. traffic in the city gives the two of you time to catch up. gojo shares about his students, marveling at their rapid growth and mastery of their own techniques. the way he lights up when sharing stories of their success warms your heart.

this is the gojo that you know. the man who would do anything for those he loves. the man who would drop everything he's doing to go do something absolutely mundane with you. the man who sacrifices everything to make sure everyone important to him is safe.

"we're here," you announce quietly, voice trailing off with the nerves. you pull the car up to the valet, and gojo is quick to leap out of the car as soon as you park. he opens the door for you with a grin, helping you out and sliding his arm around your waist.

"wow baby," he eyes the restaurant. he's never told you, but he's spent about six months on the waitlist for this place. 'how'd you score this?"

"i have my ways," you smirk. if he's impressed now, you can't wait for him to see what's in store.

gojo watches as you whisper with the hostess, quirking a brow as they scurry back quickly. he's even more surprised when what looks like the owner of the restaurant gives you a hug. soon, you motion him over with a big smile. he points at himself, mouthing a cheeky me? to which you roll your eyes.

gojo follows you, holding your hand as the two of you are led throughout the entire restaurant. dozens of couples dine together, laughing and carrying on with looks of love and adoration. it only makes gojo more excited, especially since the two of you are going further and further away from the crowd.

"here we are," your friend motions towards a small round table, adorned with champagne flutes, plates, and a bottle ready on ice. gojo pulls your chair out for you, kissing your cheek before sitting down. what's even better, is that this table is the only one in the room. "the first course should be out in about fifteen minutes or so. until then, enjoy yourselves."

you nod to your friend as they exit, before turning to your lover.

"oh my god baby," gojo looks around the room, eyes sparkling from the light of the candles that surround you. "what, i mean, how?"

your cheeks heat up, and he takes your hand in his.

"i know how busy you've been, how hard you're working, and i wanted to make this special. besides, you're always doing something for others, especially me," you squeeze his hand. "it's time i take care of you for once."

maybe it's the lighting, the way that you look tonight, or the overwhelming feeling of being taken cared of and loved, but gojo can't help but feel emotional. he looks at you, eyes full of adoration, and he laughs to himself.

"i love you. so much. i don't deserve you."

you shake your head at that.

"you deserve everything good, satoru. i mean that, with my whole heart."

he kisses your knuckles. "i love you more, my perfect girl."

he stands up and checks his watch before walking towards you. he knees to your height, kissing you softly on the lips. your lips move with his, gasping when his hand smooths over your thigh and tongue swipes at your lips.

"we have about ten minutes left," he breathes on your lips and your breathing quickens. his other hand moves up your calf, under your dress before sliding up your thigh.

"how about i show you just how much i love you, my angel?"

#heidslovesickevent #gojo x reader #gojo satoru x reader #gojo fluff #gojo satoru fluff #gojo x reader fluff #gojo x reader imagine #gojo satoru #satoru gojo fluff #jjk fluff #jjk imagine #jjk x reader #gojo x female reader #gojo satoru x female reader

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riaaanna · 9 months ago

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Freddie Mercury’s London Residence Lists at £30 Million

Garden Lodge, the spectacular Kensington home of the rock music legend, has been in the care of his friend Mary Austin for 30 years. She’s now selling it.

Garden Lodge is listed for £30 million ($38 million). Source: Knight Frank

By Sarah Rappaport.

Mary Austin remembers the first time she saw Garden Lodge. She was accompanying her friend Freddie Mercury as he was house-hunting in London in 1980.

“It was a summer day, children were playing in the garden, and I was behind Freddie as we came in. It was so quiet and so peaceful, and that continued through the house,” Austin says, speaking exclusively to Bloomberg News from inside the Kensington property. She says he decided to buy the home that same day.

“Freddie went outside and said, ‘Tell them to take it off the market. I’ll give them the asking price now,’” she says.

The double doors lead inside to a living space that Mercury called the Japanese room. Photographer: Barney Hindle

Austin says Mercury was looking for an escape in London, a place where he could create and work on his music in peace without being hounded by the media—and Garden Lodge was it for him. “The press had been pursuing him to come out, and he wouldn’t, and why should he? And this gave him the wonderful feeling that he could create and live and be private here,” she says.

Austin inherited the property from Mercury upon his death in 1991 and has been living here ever since. She says at first she wasn’t sure if it’d be healthy for her to live in the home amid her grief from his untimely passing. But she realized that she could make a life at Garden Lodge and that she didn’t need to let go “for quite some years.”

“It was really only ever my house in name only,” says Austin, her voice full of emotion. “I had worked on the house with him and for him, and it will always be his. It was his dream, it was his vision.”

Austin, 72, has decided to list the property with Knight Frank for £30 million ($38 million). This follows a massively successful Sotheby’s auction this past September in which more than $50 million was raised selling Mercury’s belongings, with a portion of the proceeds benefiting the Mercury Phoenix Trust and the Elton John AIDS Foundation.

The house, when I saw it in mid-February, was mostly empty. But the design and details, such as citrus-yellow paint on the walls and spectacular art deco mirrors in the rock star’s dressing room, are the way Mercury left them. It stands as a tribute to Mercury’s own taste.

The dining room, with pink and green cornice detailing, photographed prior to the Sotheby’s sale. The French gilt-and-bronze clock from the 1870s sold for £30,480. Photographer: Barney Hindle

The plan was to do the auction and then think about selling the house, Austin says. “The auction was enormous. And I wasn’t sure how I would feel at this moment. But I realized that the time had come.” Austin says she’s alone in the house now, her kids are grown up and live elsewhere, and she feels like it’s time to start a new chapter in her life and move on. After a whirlwind year, she says this will be her last interview.

Touring the House

Garden Lodge is just past Cromwell Road in the heart of upscale Kensington, but it’s completely private, set back from the quiet residential road and protected by an 8-foot Edwardian brick security wall topped by an even higher spiked fence, with cameras around it. The wall’s famous green door, which acted as a shrine for Mercury fans who scribbled messages on it, sold in the Sotheby’s auction for £412,750. There’s another door there now protected by clear casing.

The house is set back from the road by a large garden. Photographer: Barney Hindle

Just through the door lies a Japanese-inspired garden with blooming magnolia trees, a wooden pergola and a carp pond. The whole effect once inside the gated walls feels like a country retreat, with the high walls blocking out the noise of the streets. You wouldn’t feel like you’re just a 10-minute walk from the popular Kensington High Street, in the middle of prime central London.

“Freddie had an absolute vision for the garden. Kyoto Gardens was what came to mind—he wanted to re-create that tranquil environment,” says Austin, recalling some “very special memories” of having lunch with Mercury outside on sunny days by the pond.

The property offers eight bedrooms, and Mercury’s studio-house has an impressive brick exterior. Once inside the main entrance, to the left is what the singer called the Japanese room, one of two main living spaces. It has double doors that lead out to the garden and was his personal reflection space, says Austin. “We knew not to disturb him when he was in there.”

The ground floor also has a dining room where Mercury used to throw dinner parties, with planned menus and handwritten seating plans, including a space for his cat Oscar. Mercury was incredibly involved in the design of the room; he even painted the designs on the wall himself.

A mustache-less Mercury painting the cornice. Source: Knight Frank

Mercury’s dining room designs, which you can see him painting in the photo above. Source: Knight Frank

“He couldn’t get the decorator to match the ideas that he had in his head, so he had to do it himself,” says Austin, adding that Mercury did a design with pinks, greens and yellows on the wall.

Taking up the largest amount of the ground floor is the studio drawing room, with its wooden floors, yellow walls and ornate stone fireplace. This room was home to Mercury’s Yamaha baby grand piano, on which he wrote Bohemian Rhapsody; it sold for £1.7 million at Sotheby’s. Austin remembers pushing the piano to different spots around the room with Mercury, trying to find the ideal placement upon his move-in.

Here was the main room for entertaining, and there’s a staircase at the edge of the room that leads to an upstairs bar area, where someone getting a drink could observe the party going on below. Its two-story windows fill the room with light and look onto the expansive garden and its host of topiary trees.

Austin says she didn’t go to all of his parties but remembers a hat party that was in her words “a little full-on.”

“He designed a hat for everybody and had them all made,” she says. “He’d give you a hat, or you’d have a choice of two or three depending on how he felt about you that day.”

Along with the generous entertainment spaces, the ground floor has a cloakroom and a kitchen—with modern appliances—set back from the dining room. There’s a discreet utility room to the side that has served as a delivery area, and when I saw it, a place for Austin’s cats to sleep.

Upstairs, Mercury’s four-part primary suite lies at the end of a hallway carpeted in thick cream pile. Once you enter, you’re surrounded by floor-to-ceiling mirrors in an art deco dressing room. The mirrored doors artfully hide cabinets where he stored his clothes, including his famous stage outfits. On the side of the dressing room are two full en suite bathrooms, one of which has FM engraved in the marble. Just ahead, sliding mirrored doors open to the bedroom space, with a terrace that overlooks the garden and into the tranquil spaces of Kensington beyond.

Mercury’s Martin D35 acoustic guitar, photographed in the mirrored dressing room. Photographer: Barney Hindle

There’s a strong sense of personality and sense of time throughout the house, such as the light pink marble and green tub in a guest bathroom or the theatrical flair of the drawing room. It’s not a blank canvas, and that’s part of what makes it so special.

Before Freddie

Queen’s Mercury was the most famous occupant of Garden Lodge but wasn’t the only creative person to live there. The Neo-Georgian property was built at the turn of the 20th century as a combined home and studio for painter Cecil Rea and sculptor Constance Halford.

Other owners included Peter Wilson, a former chairman of Sotheby’s auction house, and British intelligence operative-turned-art-dealer Tomás Harris. It’s easy to imagine his own parties at Garden Lodge, with artists and spies mingling around the studio drawing room and the celebrations spilling out in the garden.

When Mercury bought the home, it was owned by a member of the prestigious Hoare banking family. Before its citrus-yellow makeover, the dining room was where they kept their safe.

“Mr. Hoare was taking us around, and I was just fascinated,” Austin says. “He said, ‘Oh, this is the safe. My father always sleeps at the bank, and when he can’t sleep at the bank, he brings all the money here.’”

The dining room as Mercury might have kept it. “He loved a dinner party,” says Austin. Photographer: Barney Hindle

Now that the property has been emptied of most of Mercury’s possessions, being in the house reminds Austin of how it was in the mid-’80s when Mercury was working with architect and designer Robin Moore Ede to make the home his own.

“We’ve actually revitalized the place to almost what it was before he moved his piano and belongings here. It was finished for at least a year before he moved in,” Austin says. “I would come here to work, I would come here to supervise, I would be here most of the time. And I suddenly find myself back to 1985.”

The Future of Garden Lodge

Austin first went to Knight Frank and explored selling the house 25 years ago, though she wasn’t quite ready to part with it then and, she says, appreciated that the agent she spoke to made sure to ask her if she was sure about a sale. She is now, she says, and is coming to terms with the fact that a future buyer will likely make changes to the property.

“The last thing you want is for someone to say, ‘Yes, I’ll buy it,’ and exploit it, and demolish it,” she says. “This is unique and has its beauty, and I know it has a purpose for someone—it did for Freddie.”

Prospective buyers should contact Paddy Dring or James Pace at Knight Frank for exact details of the property. Layouts, square footage and the size of the lot were not shared by the agency and are not being made available to the public for privacy reasons, they say. The listing itself is not being put online.

Dring says the property itself is a piece of cultural history, but it would be notable even without its famous owner. It’s incredibly rare to see such a large unmodernized home in central London with a mature garden area, he says. “It’s unbelievably special and a complete one-off.”

More of Mercury’s designs for the dining room cornice. Source: Knight Frank

Kensington is sought-after, too. After Mayfair, it was the London area with the most sales priced above £10 million in 2023, according to Knight Frank. The average sale price for a Kensington detached home in the past year was about £18 million, according to Rightmove data. Comparable recent property sales near the £30 million asking price include ones with the same amount of bedrooms in nearby Holland Park—both updated recently and with swimming pools—but without any rock legend imprimatur.

As to whom Austin sees buying the house, she has a feeling that it’ll be another artist. “If it’s not another creative, it should be because it is, it has that atmosphere,” she says. “There might be a buyer with a similar modus operandi to Freddie.”

But, she continues, gesturing around the grand, now piano-less drawing room, “Once you’ve sold, you’ve sold. You can’t hold on to the past forever, I suppose. I’ll be leaving with it very warm in my heart.”

#queen band #freddie mercury #auction

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bonny-kookoo · 1 year ago

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has tongue tied!Mc ever been sick while staying with the boys?

"I can't believe that.. you know." Hoseok sighs as Taehyung lays down on his back. "I mean, I honestly haven't thought about it at all to be fair- but still. I never knew how bad those side effects could get." He mumbles concerned.

"We'll just have to be there for her as a pack." He shrugs, holding you where you're sprawled out almost on top of him, limbs trying to hold onto him as his hand runs up and down your back. "She seems most calm when most of us are around." He explains.

"Well, good thing we've got some time off anyways." Jimin says, placing a puzzle piece down where it belongs. "Amd I think it's good the world gets to see this too. I think most forget what we have to regularly go through as hybrids." He explains, as Jungkook nods.

They're all sure this conversation will most likely get cut out the final episode. But they've long stopped caring- that fact having showed itself especially when Jungkook had put his foot down and told the company he'd not join the project if you weren't allowed to tag along.

And at first, it was all great- the first week of filming good enough for the camera directors it seemed like, and fans really enjoyed the more personal and domestic side of everyone- including you. But then you'd suddenly gotten sick when you went home for a few days with the guys- a private checkup confirming that you weren't necessarily sick, but simply going through your quarterly cycle as a hybrid-

Or your 'heat' as it's commonly referred to.

The only reason you're so quiet and dependant however is to be blamed on the company's decision to use a hormonal shot for you- medication used to eliminate and conquer any natural effects of your cycle, and 'calm you down', according to advertisers and pharmaceutical companies.

'Calming you down' just being a different term for making you emotionally and physically miserable.

You're tired, without any energy to do much, uninterested in anything really. Your mood is rather gloomy and unsure, nothing really able to cause you any positive excitement due to your hormones being all messed up. You cling to any member that accepts it, desperate for any form of security it seems like, constantly worried of things you can't voice out.

Because by now, you've gone completely entirely silent, rarely ever making a sound.

"Things like that shouldn't be legal." Jungkook mumbles almost angrily to himself as he searches for a correct puzzle piece. "Like, it shouldn't be legal for anyone to be able to decide things like this for someone who's able to make these decisions themselves." He quietly argues, and a cameraman coughs- as if to remind him he's still there.

Well, that'll certainly get cut for sure.

"Her fever isn't nearly as high as it was though." Yoongi offers, sitting down on the floor after checking your head silently for your temperature. "She'll hopefully nap it off soon." He softly says, watching you nuzzle into Taehyung's chest.

"Hopefully." Jungkook grumbles, still mad at the whole situation. You don't deserve this. He hates knowing you don't feel well- and that he can't do anything about it.

But that's how it'll be sometimes.

And as long as he's there together with everyone else to hold you during times like these, it might just be okay.

#bts imagine #bts fanfic #bts fic #hybrid imagine #jungkook imagine #yoongi imagine #jimin imagine #taehyung imagine #hoseok imagine #ot7 hybrid fanfic #ot7 hybrid imagine #ot7 fic #ot7 x reader #ot7 imagine

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ammg-old2 · 1 year ago

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The Wagner Group mercenaries marched 800 kilometers across Russia, shot down planes and helicopters, took over a regional military command, provoked a panic in Moscow—troops dug trenches, the mayor told everyone to stay home—and then stood down. Yet in a way, the strangest aspect of Saturday’s aborted coup was the reaction of the people of Rostov-on-Don, including the city’s military leaders, to the soldiers who arrived and declared themselves to be their new rulers.

The Wagner mercenaries showed up in the city early Saturday morning. They met no resistance. Nobody shot at them. One photograph, published by The New York Times, shows them walking at a leisurely pace across a street, one of their tanks in the background, holding yellow coffee cups.

Yevgeny Prigozhin, Wagner’s violent ex-con leader, posted videos of himself chatting with the local commanders in the courtyard of the headquarters of Russia’s Southern Military District. Nobody seemed to mind his being there.

Outside, street sweepers continued their work. Early in the morning, a few people came to gawk, but not many. After Russian President Vladimir Putin gave a panicked speech on television, comparing the situation to 1917 and evoking the ghost of civil war, one man pushing a bicycle was filmed berating the Wagnerites and telling them to go home. The troops laughed him off. But later in the day, more people showed up, and the atmosphere grew warmer.

People shook their hands, brought them food, took selfies. “People are bringing pirozhki, apples, chips. Everything there in the store has been bought to give to the soldiers,” one woman said on camera. In the evening, after Prigozhin had decided to stand down and go home (wherever home turns out to be), he drove away in an SUV with crowds filming him on their cellphones and cheering him on, as if he were a celebrity leaving a movie premiere or a gallery opening. Some chanted “Wagner! Wagner!” as the troops emerged into the street. This was the most remarkable aspect of the whole day: Nobody seemed to mind, particularly, that a brutal new warlord had arrived to replace the existing regime—not the security services, not the army, and not the general public. On the contrary, many seemed sorry to see him go.

The response is hard to understand without reckoning with the power of apathy, a much undervalued political tool. Democratic politicians spend a lot of time thinking about how to engage people and persuade them to vote. But a certain kind of autocrat, of whom Putin is the outstanding example, seeks to convince people of the opposite: not to participate, not to care, and not to follow politics at all. The propaganda used in Putin’s Russia has been designed in part for this purpose. The constant provision of absurd, conflicting explanations and ridiculous lies—the famous “firehose of falsehoods”— encourages many people to believe that there is no truth at all. The result is widespread cynicism. If you don’t know what’s true, after all, then there isn’t anything you can do about it. Protest is pointless. Engagement is useless.

But the side effect of apathy was on display yesterday as well. For if no one cares about anything, that means they don’t care about their supreme leader, his ideology, or his war. Russians haven’t flocked to sign up to fight in Ukraine. They haven’t rallied around the troops in Ukraine or held emotive ceremonies marking either their successes or their deaths. Of course they haven’t organized to oppose the war, but they haven’t organized to support it either.

Because they are afraid, or because they don’t know of any alternative, or because they think it’s what they are supposed to say, they tell pollsters that they support Putin. And yet, nobody tried to stop the Wagner group in Rostov-on-Don, and hardly anybody blocked the Wagner convoy on its way to Moscow. The security services melted away, made no move and no comment. The military dug some trenches around Moscow and sent some helicopters; somebody appears to have sent bulldozers to dig up the highways, but that was all we could see. Who will respond if a more serious challenge to Putin ever emerges? Certainly the military will think twice: Perhaps a dozen Russian servicemen, mostly pilots, died at the hands of the Wagner mutineers, more than died during the failed coup of 1991. Nobody seems particularly bothered about them.

One day after this aborted coup, it is too early to speculate about Prigozhin’s true motives, about what he was really given in exchange for standing down, about where Putin really spent the day on Saturday—some say St. Petersburg, some say a dacha in Novgorod—or about anything else, really. But the flimsiness of this regime’s ideology and the softness of its support have been suddenly laid bare. Expect more repression as Putin tries to stay in charge, more chaos, or both.

#current events #politics #russian politics #psychology #sociology #russo-ukrainian war #2022 russian invasion of ukraine #russia #yevgeny prigozhin #vladimir putin #wagner group

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steadfastpetrel · 1 year ago

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Worth Existing (or, Frank Webster Gives Keegan An Existential Crisis)

been busy this semester, but have a reflection comic I got away with making for an information history class! it's rambling, but i had some fun digesting my thoughts.

image descriptions from alt: The title page contains the title “Worth Existing, or: Frank Webster gives Keegan an existential crisis.” In front of a mirror, Keegan stands with their back facing the viewer as a reflection of them as a librarian looks back worriedly.

Page 1 features a sequential cartoonish sequence of Keegan’s head rolling and landing on his shoulders. He says: “Finding out how we’ve come to view our information society has been a ride. My pea brain can only fit so much, ideas only roll vaguely when I try to talk about what I’ve learned, but I’m at least seeing things from new eyes. More specifically…”

Dialogue continues on Page 2, 3 panels sequentially zoom in on a horrified Keegan. She says, “I’m seeing how much Frank Webster hates libraries.” The quote from the book she’s reading is as follows: “Moreover, library staff have benefited disproportionately from the establishment of these services, being provided with secure and pleasant (if not lavishly remunerated) employment. Why, one might ask, does the public purse need to support the likes of Agatha Christie and Jeremy Clarkson when their books are readily available for cheap purchase and their literary merit, still more their intellectual and uplifting qualities, are at best of minor significance. Such observations raise questions regarding the efficacy with which public libraries actually operate. It follows that a driving force behind their establishment and continued state support, the appeal to mitigate the inequalities of capitalism in the informational domain, seems to have been less than fully effective.” End quote.

Page 3 has Keegan looking with hands clasped, paused. They then look at the camera, asking “Did the dude just insult Agatha Christie?” The bottom has them lying on their bed, looking up at the ceiling in thought, saying “There’s something that just bugged me ever since I read that chapter. I never really understood the theory we talked about in class, it’s a skill I’m working on, but the weird beef he has with libraries at least gave me a vibe on ‘Hayekian Neoliberalism.’ And also how weird it is that capitalism got so far into deciding what’s worth existing. If the thing I wanna do with my life is worth existing.”

On Page 4, Keegan walks with his crutches as the dialogue continues. “I could go on for hours about all that sucks with Webster’s opinions! Of course I want the staff to ‘disproportionately’ benefit from their work. Unlike books, people have to eat! What’s ironic about Webster’s whole spiel about the efficacy of libraries is that he provides several examples of figures from his area heavily aided by libraries. Panels feature novelist John Banville, author Jeannette Winterson, and sociologist Richard Hoggart. Keegan continues and says, “And yet he goes on to be like…”

Page 5, a sock puppet speaks angrily: “People are getting free books and are hurting the poor bookseller! Libraries are stupid because it doesn’t miraculously fix the inequalities of capitalism!” To the side, the text says “Artist’s exaggeration. Don’t take this seriously.” Bottom panel contains Keegan pointing with her thumb at Frank Webster’s Wikipedia page. She says, “I wouldn’t be so hung up if this was some random guy, but considering this guy is so largely quoted and touted in my field of information sciences? Ouch obviously doesn’t cut how much all that stung.”

Page 6 contains an Asian man with a bun protesting banned books. The next panel contains a white woman with a turtleneck reading in a library as a winter storm brews outside. Keegan off-screen says, “While Webster calls libraries ‘censors of society,’ librarians are fighting vehemently against book bannings! And the way he says that public libraries are ‘captured by the better-off section of society?’ Like what, you’re going to ignore how libraries act as comfortable spaces for folks without housing during harsher months?”

On Page 7 a gavel bangs on a panel. “As if that’s not enough, publishers are suing libraries for distributing e-books, calling them ‘direct economic competitors’ when, if anything, they often support these publishers and their authors by buying multiple copies, hosting events and collaborating with local businesses.” As an example, the comic features a scene of a Black woman in a cardigan talking to a white cashier with a shaved head. She says to them, “I just read this at my library earlier and just needed to get my own copy! Can’t believe it took me this long to discover this author!” A panel below, a pair of hands scoops sand and watches it flow from their fingers. Keegan says, “I don’t know. Even in good company, it sometimes feels like the future is slipping through my fingers.”

Page 8 is a pillar of falling sand. Embedded in it is an Apple pencil, a floating feather, and a book. Keegan narrates, “As an artist and a writer, it’s wondering if I’ll be prioritized over a generative AI that doesn’t have to eat or sleep. As a birder, it’s wondering if the backyard visitors I always see at my feeder will end up as myths and taxidermied specimens. As a librarian, it’s wondering if the institutions I often called home will be felled by the swift axe that the invisible hand holds. It’s a weird feeling of perpetual free fall for a drop that is light years away.”

Page 9, Keegan is holding a book to the sky as they read it. They narrate “Learning is a language I’ve always used to make sense of the thoughts I’ve had swirling in my brain. Finding out ‘information capitalism’ was a thing was like learning about the leash that has pulled at my throat since I entered the schooling system. I am learning because I am not a person, but a tool to be put to a trade. The world around me whispers in my ear…”

“Feel wonder if you must, but don’t linger long enough to turn in something too late.” On page 10, Keegan lies on a grassy field looking up with the book on his chest. He narrates, “I can’t deny that’s a message hard to unhear. As of now, I don’t think I remember much before 2022 other than the grades I got.”

On page 11, a hand wipes a bathroom wall with a sponge. The bottom of the page is filled with floating bubbles. Keegan narrates, “This sounds silly, but I was in tears when I heard about the concept of degrowth this past week. It could’ve been the clorox I was using to clean my bathroom, but the toil of my body and mind must’ve come to some crashing conclusion when I listened past what we were assigned.” The quote goes, They’re essentially making the argument that if we stay on this growth path, the only end to that is, you know, our own extinction. They are not just saying it’s not possible. They’re also saying it’s not desirable. It’s the kind of life that you and I ultimately do not want. We don’t want to drown in just stuff. We want to have a life. We want to have time for each other. We want to have time for creative thinking and art and love and kindness.” The quote ends. It comes from Vox’s Blame Capitalism: Degrowing Pains and is spoken by Dirk Phillipsen.

On page 12, Keegan sits in the bathtub with a few tears. Narration goes, “It was just nice that someone smarter than me in this topic wants the same things I do. Time to live and space to breathe. I know it’s not a perfect solution, but it’s one of those moments that culminate to tears when you’re having a rough week. This time, it was the reminder that this doesn’t have to be all there is to it. That there were people echoing my heartfelt belief that the system that tears down those I love doesn’t have to stay.

Page 13. A frog and toad book. “One-sided beef with Frank Webster aside, this unit has bolstered my love for librarianship. As hastily made and rambling this comic went, I realize I feel this strongly because I love this field so much. Against all odds, even as the internet grew to commodify knowledge, libraries adapted to the best of their abilities for their patrons. Why should some British dude make me wonder if libraries will continue to exist? As depressing as learning about capitalism gets, it’s helpful to understand the hand that takes from you. To understand why and how I’ve always been hurt by the systems that be and make sure I can lighten the blow for those who come after. I’ve learned there’s a lot that can come out of being so sad and scared about the future. Sometimes drawing it out (even if you turn in a late assignment) reminds you that there’s still so much ahead. That, and the fact I should probably read Frog and Toad sometime. So, uh, I’m gonna do that now. Bye!"

The references page lists several sources: Frank Webster’s “Theories of the Information Society.” An article by Brewster Kahle called, “The US library system, once the best in the world, faces death by a thousand cuts.” An article by Rachel Kramer Bussel called, “How Libraries Help Authors Boost Book Sales.” And a podcast episode from Vox’s Today Explained hosted by Noel King, titled “Blame Capitalism: Degrowing Pains.” end descriptions.

#art #artists on tumblr #comic #information science #academia #studyblr #library #libraries #library science #image described #image description in alt #accessible art #long post

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