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little-miss-dilf-lover · 3 months

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This one is really long, sorry!! Take your time responding to these! Also, I apologize for any mistakes 💺 anon

1) In a previous ask, I mentioned WD's (and Wolf's) loyalty to his wife and how Tan is the same so imagine he finds out both wd's and wolf's (+ shigeru kimura) wives died because of what they do or as a failed assassination attempt and he becomes more protective of us (if that's even possible)

2) Speaking of what he does, because of it I think our wedding is small, maybe a few close friends and omg imagine Lem pronounces us husband and wife??

3) Slow dancing with him?? One of his hand gently holding yours, the other one resting on your back, touching foreheads while slowly moving in the dimly lit room 🫠

4) This has been on my mind for quite a while, comparing hand sizes. We're the one who ask him to hold his hand out for us so we can make the comparison and you can see a faint smile as he sees the differences

5) Do you think he gifts us more rings so we match with him?

6) We talked about how he has tattoos that resembles us, how would he react if we got one that resembles him?

7) Ok now more of him after he shaved hehe !! "I won't be riding your face anymore" we tell him and he just freezes. The following days he'll leave lots of kisses down our stomach, doing anything to make us change our mind (it would honestly be so hot to hear him beg for us sm)

8) I really wish to know how the conversation after breaking the bed would go

9) In the novel this man is obsessed with books, so what do you think he likes to read?

10) Also you are so right about what kind of songs he listens to. I have a playlist of songs that remind me of him but they aren't songs that I picture him listening to. I'm starting to believe he doesn't even listen to music :)

More songs from my playlist: Give Me The Night by George Benson, I Like It by DeBarge, Norton Commander (All We Need) by Men I Trust, Tip Toe by HYBS, Outstanding by The Gap Band, Girl by Men I Trust

(Sorry for all the Men I Trust songs, they're my favorite band. Also, 'Girl' really reminds me of Tan, most of the lyrics are in french but when translated it screams reader and Tan, to me at least :)) + he owns Kill Me Pretty idc

Assassin!reader 1) More sassy reader!! Wearing sunglasses while running from yakuzas with a briefcase in our arms. Being overdramatic with our acting. Adding little comments to mock the assassin we're running away from. Happily walking away after gathering intel. 🍒, after humiliating and breaking down a gang leader: Toodle-oo! :D

2) I don't know why I thought of this because in my mind, Cherry doesn't really fight but Tan giving us brass knuckles? And he teaches us how to punch? That would be hot

3) Facetime while they're on a mission!! I feel like they have a laptop with them so it's easier to communicate with us. Maybe they are staying at a hotel when they call us, they talk about how the mission is going, we tell them what we've been up to, what we cooked. Just chill vibes and laughs. Hanging up would be the hardest part.

4) Listen, we could say the weirdest stuff and they'll still defend us. Ladybug is there like "What? That doesn't make any sense." Tan is quick to throw every insult he knows at him while Lem comes up with an argument on how we are actually correct

5) Imagine if we all shared a playlist, the chaos. You said Tan dabbles in classical music so it's funny to imagine that after a song that us or Lem put on the playlist ended, Caprice No.24 In A Minor by Niccolò Paganini starts playing

6) If we're also an assassin, who's babysitting?

+ some more lem 1) About your post of Tan's house, does Lem also live there?

2) Imagine before we started dating Tan, he gets really close and we jokingly say "Ask me to dinner first" (we're not joking we're dropping hints) and he laughs it off. Lem can feel his eye twitching

3) Ok look, he's very happy for us and Tan but that won't stop him from yelling "Cockblock!" when Tan tries to make a suggestive comment (I'm sorry it sounded funnier in my head)

4) All jokes aside, we talked about how Tan would consider breaking up with us to keep us safe and I honestly don't see Lem allowing it. Let's say we did get hurt and now Tan doesn't know what to do with himself, Lem would be the one to reassure him

5) Also, a random thought, if he takes our phone for whatever reason, he'll leave random photos, silly selfies and video vlogs

6) About his taste in music, I feel like he listens to a lot of different genres but I hc he likes R&B the most Mini playlist: Milestone by Tokyo Critters, Orange Mug by WONK, Rockstar by HYBS, Lust For A Vampyr by I Monster, Dare by Gorillaz (Feel like he picked up some songs from his time in Japan. Also I hc he likes I Monster and Gorillaz)

Also he def starts randomly singing

— Dad!Tan 1) Any name ideas for our second child? I had a classmate who's name was Nectarine (I was kind of jealous because it sounded cool) so maybe that or Clementine?

2) Thoughts on reader not being able to have kids so they adopt instead?

3) A scenerio I wanted to share: Telling Mandy we hope she finds someone like Tan and she accidently tells him!! They're in the kitchen, he's preparing a breakfast to surprise us with, when all of a sudden: "Oh um mommy told me she hopes I find someone like you one day" he turns to look at her, "Oh yeah? Why did mommy say that?" "Well she said it's because you make her happy. You respect her and make her feel safe..." she continues, trying to remember what we told her. He softly stares at her and smiles, his heart melting.

Uncle!Lem 1) He watches Thomas with them, it's a given. Also tries to figure out which train they'll be and gives them a sticker

2) He's still very much protective of them but he's more chill and let's them get away with stuff without us or Tan knowing. Like letting them stay up late, giving them just one more candy, and stuff like that

I say the word imagine way too much in these. But writing these ideas to you did help because now I've started writing more drabbles in my notes! So thank you 💗💗

hii angel!!! hopefully this all makes sense, I haven’t read or checked it 😭😭 hope you’re well 💓💓

1- the poor dude will be stressed as!!! rather than uncle ben dying in every universe, it will be an assassins wife. he would be so paranoid too!!! I do think he would essentially try to erase you and make it like you never existed. he thinks that way it might keep you safe

2- I do think the wedding would be very small and intimate regardless. OMG YES!!! I think lem might bring it up casually like “oh yeah, I can officiate your guyses wedding” and both have no idea that he’s registered to do it bc lem kept it quiet😭😭

3- get out that’s so cute🥲!!!!!!!! he’s actually such a romantic guy, I truly believe that

4- ARFFGHHQHAHHA FERAL. why you gotta say that???? now I won’t be able go think of anything else!!!! I have a hand kink

5- eheheh yes yes yes!! depends if you’re into gold or silver. he will either get a matching gold band for you, or the same in silver. even if not married, he likes the idea of having the same ring. or if you are married, then you have matching ring AND wedding ring🫠

6- he’d actually melt. he’d give a composed “that’s nice that” but would be a pile of melted jelly inside

7- 😭😭😭😭😭 he’d be regretting it even more. UGHHGGGGHHHH😩 I imagine him asking daily if it’s grown back enough. “it enough now?” and he’d have like 5 more hairs than day before. in love with the idea of him being uncharacteristically desperate for us

8- im thinking quite a bit of laughs and “can’t believe you broke the bed” maybe he’d shrug and collect his things to head off to the spare room. maybe we’re like “where you going?” and he’s all casual, getting into the bed in ONE OF THE MANY spare rooms. and maybe we’re like “can we sleep on the sofa tonight?” maybe he gets a bad back on there so he’s hesitant, but he can’t say no to us. as much as I don’t particularly like the trait, I do think he’s quite casual about broken possessions (he has money now so he’s more carefree about things, but hasn’t always been) and so he’s like “we can just get another one” bc now he doesn’t have to worry about money

that took a detour😭 sorry for waffle

9- me too!! I really don think he listens to music, there’s just songs that have his vibe and remind me of him. listened to the songs and love them!!! and he so does own that song (lwk turns me on bc I imagine the scene)😭😭😭

assassin reader

1- AAAHH sassy and I love it

2- would be so so hot???! and he teaches you things you may not know. how to hold a knife, how to punch most effectively, how to (idk what else, but you get the gist)

3- yesss!! and if it different time zones, will be facetiming them while we’re in the kitchen cooking. or if they have a spare few hours we’ll watch a movie together, have laptops facing us while we watch a movie on tv. we sync it so we can watch it down to the second and it’s like the twins are with you. hanging up will be so hard???!

4- yes!!! they actually get so defensive

5- im not too entirely sure if I think that still tbh😭 maybe on occasion, but he gives off old English money vibes so that kinda backs up that hc. omg that would be so funny, maybe lem is like “who the fuck put this on here?” maybe it’s a secret that tan likes that kind of music so we say it’s ours and then the more lem listens the more he likes it

6- they babysit themselves. jkjk. maybe tan doesn’t trust anyone else in his house, so someone on your side of the family???? and they’d be paid very decently

lem

1- oooo okay so. im thinking no, but lem has a room at the house (and it’s decorated and IS his room, not just a spare one he sleeps in) so lem is welcome to sleep over at anytime. in the house I used, I think it’s fairly common for another house to be on the property or to be right on the cusp of it. I think they live right next door, so that way they can be near each other, but still get their own space. I do hc lem as more of a city person and tan as a countryside/ rural person. so maybe lem has another flat in the city

2- 😭😭😭😭 lem gets heart palpitations, and can feel his brain throb bc it’s just getting too frustrating

3- def tries to wind him up about it

4- lem would NEVER allow it!!! “what you thinking mate?” “don’t let her go” “don’t do that” “there’s gotta be another way” “don’t. she’ll never forgive you” “she needs you, you need her” “we’ll figure it out, we always do” “don’t lose her” “I can’t live without her, and you definitely can’t”

5- AAAAAAHHHH😭 just pictures of lampposts, his shoes (bc he thinks they look cool) a blurry picture of a squirrel eating a nut, a kids dropped ice cream (with ‘LOL’ written on the image) and then a picture of him buying the kid a new one, a video of him getting nagged at by tan and he’s mocking him in the video (he’s such a child, I love it) a vlog of what it’s like going shop with tan for you

6- holy shit he is so gorillaz coded!!!!!!!! and you’re so right, he def sings and hums without even realising it

as I finished up writing this a song came on and it kinda give lemon vibes??? banquet - bloc party

dad tan

my beloved🫠

1- that is such a cool name!!? you know what, I really haven’t given it much thought so im not too sure sadly

2- adoption is definitely in the picture !! it won’t go unthought of

3- omgomgomgomg!!!? he wants to be the standard for his daughter so that she knows how she should be treated by men in the future, but he often thinks he messes up parenting, but moments like that definitely make him feel like he’s doing a better job. actually dying, what you said is so cute

uncle lem

1- omg😭😭😭

2- oh for sure !!! fun uncle lem

aaaahh yay im so glad!! thank you for sending me these, I loved it!! I wrote your request a few days ago, and it’s in my drafts. I’ll get it up tonight. BUUT I wrote this at the bottom of your request, but too excited so I’ll tell you now, when I was looking for images on pinterest I found a little girl that is the spitting image of tan as a little girl. brown curls, big blue eyes, so fucking cute so I now hc her as mandy 😭

I’ll add it here bc that’ll just be annoying if not😭 blurred her face out as don’t want to repost a picture of a toddler online, so you’ll just have to trust me

#ask #💺#tangerine #tangerine headcanon #tangerine x reader

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damienthepious · 11 months

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lizard kissin’ lizard kissin’ lizard kissin’ lizard kissin’ but actually. in reality. maybe just some lizard hand holdin’. sortakinda. :3c

The Beast In On His Chain (chapter 14)

[ch 1] [ch 2] [ch 3] [ch 4] [ch 5] [ch 6] [ch 7] [ch 8] [ch 9] [ch 10] [ch 11] [ch 12] [ch 13] [ao3] [???]

Fandom: The Penumbra Podcast

Relationship: Lord Arum/Sir Damien, Sir Damien/Rilla, Lord Arum/Sir Damien/Rilla

Characters: Sir Damien, Lord Arum, Rilla, Sir Absolon

Additional Tags: Second Citadel, Alternate Universe - Different First Meeting, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, prisoner/guard dynamic, Dehumanization, (which feels like a weird word to use for a nonhuman person bUT. it’s what i got.), Despair, Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, (EVENTUALLY!!!! it’ll take a while), Captivity, Suicidal Thoughts, (that will be a theme throughout. inescapable in this particular fic. alas.), Eventual Romance, (Yes the dynamics in this one are fucked. honestly i’m kinda Stretching my limits these days.), (having fun with it. fucking around. it’s fine.), Recovery, (eventually), Self-Reclamation

Chapter Summary: A couple of conversations, from alternating perspectives.

Chapter Notes: Chapter specific warnings for descriptions of Arum's early captivity, implied torture, continuing references to starvation/dehydration, mentions of injury. Take care of yourselves and i love you!

Arum looks... better. A week or so of water and already-

He does not seem healed, exactly. He is still... worryingly thin, still with the echoes of bruises across his arms and his chest and his eye, though the swelling has gone down substantially. It's subtle, really. Damien is unsure if he would have noticed if he hadn't been looking quite so closely. His color-

He looks less... ashen grey, Damien thinks. His scales are colorless, still, washed out, but- paler, now. Almost... clearer? And the scales themselves seem less dry, cracked, brittle. Claws, too. He breathes a little easier.

(Damien's stomach twists and twists and twists and he cannot make himself believe that this is enough, but-)

Arum has been suspicious of him, still, intermittently. Now and again. He hasn't gone so far as to dump any more cups on Damien's head, thankfully, but- the amount of trust he has in Damien's motives seems to vary by the hour, as Damien sits patiently at the edge of Arum's plinth.

Damien asks, now. If Arum would not mind hearing Damien speak, compose, pray. His responses vary, as well, glaring and shaking his head or rolling his eyes into a reluctant nod, by turns. Damien stays quiet when asked, of course. It is difficult, admittedly, but- it seems a cruelty to give Arum a choice and then fail to follow through.

Once, Arum denies Damien's request to compose aloud, but then after a few hours the monster huffs, grimacing when Damien glances back towards him. He wrinkles his snout, the motion almost- cute, in a strange way, and then he looks away. Damien tries to give Arum a bit of grace, then, politely turning back to the front and his own thoughts, but after another heavy few seconds, he feels Arum's knuckles, just barely brushing the edge of Damien's elbow.

He twitches, turning perhaps a bit too quickly in surprise, and Arum pulls back, startled in his own right. The monster flicks his tongue after a moment, still uncomfortable, still flinching, and Damien-

"Did you..." Damien trails off, biting his lower lip for a moment before he tries again. "Did you need something of me?"

Arum's expression sours, and Damien remembers belatedly- pride, of course, and implying that he needs anything from Damien- poor choice of words, politeness seen as an insult, of course-

Arum sags after only a moment, though, something defeated in his eyes, and then he lifts a hand and gestures to the journal of poetry drafts in Damien's hands.

"Ah..." Damien blinks, lifting the journal almost unconsciously to press against his chest. "Wh... what would you... I'm sorry, I'm not sure what you mean."

Arum huffs again, points to the book, and then he flexes his hand oddly before he reaches to tap his own snout, his lips. He rolls his eyes as he does this, as if annoyed with himself, and then he flicks his hand out, waving vaguely towards Damien. It would seem like something of a dismissal, but...

Damien feels his own lips part. He swallows, and then tries, "You... you've changed your mind, about my... speaking?"

Arum frowns, and nods. He gestures to the book again.

Damien feels heat in his cheeks, the rawness of his poetic drafts inherently embarrassing, but...

It seems a cruelty, to give Arum a choice and then fail to follow through.

He lowers the pages from against his chest, takes a slow breath in, and starts to run through a verse that has been giving him particular trouble.

He tries, with difficulty, not to flush at the intensity of Arum's gaze upon him.

Arum does not know what to do with the new... amendments to his captivity.

Not that he has the freedom to do much of anything with it, but regardless. The sentiment stands.

His throat feels less raw than it has in... well. He does not actually know how long. Since the very first time he screamed it raw under the collar, when he raged and roared until the pain rendered him unconscious.

He think that he feels less tired, as well. That could be illusion, perhaps. It could be, instead, that Damien's presence in (what he assumes are) the daytime hours prevents him from fading into half-dreaming malaise, now. Even when the poet- when the knight is quiet, his presence is still a distraction, now that he simply prefers to... sit. On Arum's plinth. Within reach. The entirety of the shift, barring his allotted breaks.

(The knight is becoming oddly smooth, when it comes to rising and snatching up his weapons and pretending that he had been doing nothing whatsoever that he isn't allowed, when the other guards creak the door open to relieve him.)

He comes and sits close enough that Arum can scent the world outside on his skin, on his clothes.

Always, he smells of feathers and paper and ink, and the particular scent of his own hair and skin (which Arum, to his consternation, thinks that he could recognize in his sleep, now). Intermittently he smells of horses, of turned soil. Flowers. The scent of honeysuckle returns now and again, alongside lavender and roses and mint. He must enjoy plums, for how often his hands bear the scent of that delicate, cool flesh. The scent of other humans lingers on him with reasonable frequency, as well, but without their context, that is all Arum knows. Someone who enjoys talking as much as Sir Damien... it isn't particularly surprising that he would require other creatures with which to prattle and fritter away his time.

Once, he comes-

Droplets crowning his hair, again, damp darkening the armor on his shoulders, and when Damien puts his weapons on the stones away from Arum and shakes himself out, the reality of thunderstorm shivers in Arum's bones. He can taste it. The vague hint of a spark on the air, the thick rich scent of the rain. Mud on the knight's boots. And the distant, almost ignorable intermittent rumble Arum can sense through the stone, buzzing against his scales, he recognizes at last as thunder.

Damien had been grimacing as he shook a hand through his hair, but something in Arum's eyes must stop him short, because the poet's steps falter for a beat, and his cheeks darken when he meets Arum's gaze.

"Ah- er, it's just... raining," he says, lamely, and Arum wishes for perhaps the thousandth time that he could simply tell this creature how utterly absurd he is. In all capacities. He settles for a look, and Damien's face scrunches in something of a wince. "I know, I know." He sighs, and then he tilts his head, considering, his eyes up on the ceiling for a long moment. "Hm."

Arum glares. The force of it draws Damien's attention, and after a moment he shakes his head again (the rain-scent redoubling in Arum's snout).

"The thunder," he says, quietly. "I didn't realize... this deep, you can barely even hear it. It could just as well be the middle of a sunny day, or the depths of a snowstorm, or a humid haze, and we would never know the difference, secreted away in this cryp-"

He pauses, inhaling sharply and almost swallowing the word, but- he catches Arum's eye again. Arum knows what word he said. Damien knows he knows. The knight gives a rather mirthless, uncertain smile, and he sighs.

"Well. Regardless. I'm sup-" another pause. "Rather, I thought I should ask... may I take a look at your hand? The one that was injured, I mean," he says when Arum pulls his head back, wary. "I want to see how it has been healing, if that's alright with you."

Arum glances down to the hand in question, then glares back up at Damien. He can see the hand perfectly well, can't he?

Damien's smile takes on a little more warmth, and he takes a step closer. "May I look a bit closer, I mean," he says. "I- I'd like to see if the swelling has gone down. Your eye looks better, but... the hand was rather more unfortunate, and I want to be sure."

Why, Arum thinks, again. For perhaps the thousandth time. Why does the knight care?

He flexes his fingers, far less sore and stiff than they had been, and then he sighs. He settles a little more comfortably (not comfortably, in truth, but- more so) and offers the offending limb out towards the knight.

Damien almost looks surprised, for a heartbeat, and then his smile shifts even wider, and softer, and he leans against the plinth, lifting his own hands to take Arum's.

Arum twitches at the touch. He can't help it. Even his fingertips are hot like coals, and Arum can feel droplets of water from the rain dotting his skin, too, oddly intimate against Arum's scales. Damien makes a noise in the back of his throat, wordless but soothing, and he very carefully turns Arum's hand in his own, his eyes intent and observant.

Arum imagines that his own eyes must bear a similar look, watching Damien in return, trying to focus on anything besides that touch. He flicks his tongue, taking all of it (rain hair orange peel spark of lightning skin rain soil honeysuckle linen rain green growing things rain) in as one sensation. It feels something like hunger, at the core of him. A want so sharp that it hurts. It coalesces oddly: he remembers with a sudden pulse a particular landscape Amaryllis had shown, raindrops on a river, hazy lines in the air to show the falling droplets, ruffling birds taking cover beneath a shrub, and-

(Ridiculous, the idea that he misses her. He does not know her. He knew her only briefly. She does not mean anything. She is not coming back.)

(She is not coming back.)

Arum swallows. Damien releases his hand, leaning back and leaving Arum's scales colder again. Arum curls his hands into fists, pressing them against his stomach as if that might keep the linger of mammal heat a moment longer. As if it isn't already too late.

"Seems that you're healing rather well," Damien says with a light smile, and then a sharpness comes to his eyes. "Now, at least. Do you imagine the water is helping?" he asks, and Arum-

(Rain on his cheek, still weighing his curls down, emphasizing every scent, is the water helping? Helping-)

(He means the canteen.)

Arum shakes his head to clear it, realizes that Damien will likely take that as a negation, and then he huffs. He gives a shrug, tipping his head sideways in what he hopes will read as a so-so gesture. He doesn't know, of course. It feels like, perhaps, it might be. But how would he know?

Damien nods slowly, a thoughtful turn to his lips, and then he allows himself to sit, perching on the lip of Arum's plinth, his usual place.

(His usual place?)

"Would..." the poet's voice slows, and then he hesitantly raises his eyes to meet Arum's. "Would food help, as well, do you think?"

#elle's fanfic #second citadel #rad bouquet #lizard kissin' tuesday #lord arum #sir damien #the beast in on his chain #ough augh hrgh haough #please someone help this lizard (ignores that i control this)

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thequietmanno1 · 1 month

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TheLreads, Vigilantes ch 103, Replies Part 1

1) “So we got McBee McDown, you know what that means, time for some McBullshit! I know, this was supposed to be a return to the main series, but honestly, considering how close we are to ending Vigilantes I’m feeling really tempted to just keep pushing forward until it is finally destroyed.”- Such tenacity, not unlike a certain faceless antagonist, who also wants this fight go all the way to the bitter end.

2) “Shame that Phelps and the rest of the people have no idea, Soga probably knows since Knuckles must’ve told him what McBee could do. Or maybe not, considering how much of an ass Knuckles usually is.”- Turns out Phelps at least took precautions against Nomura’s movement capability with electro-shock handcuffs. Pity that Nomura can side-step that by just morphing his form out of the constraints of a human body into a bio-organic slime. No nerves to paralyse in that state.

3) “I hope you mean like, they give you an electric shock to stun you, and that this is not an implication that this is a quirk-suppressor handcuff, we’re over that dream already O'Clock Tulpa”- Ironically for a Quirk-user whose power mostly manifests as electric discharges around his body, electricity is also Nomura’s fatal weakness. Can’t move fast if you can’t move at all. 4) “But Midnight, if you’re gone, who will watch the watchman?

Also, I was wondering for a while, is your quirk even gonna work on him? Does McBee even has like lungs or something?”- Well, he used to, but likely not in his slime form, unless the bomber cells still carry oxygen to his brain, which is also how Midnight’s quirk can affect him still. 5) “What is it koichi? Do your crawlers ears heard something dangerous approaching? Like a small army of exploding nomus?”- Probably wondering how Pop’s doing, given how close they are to the hospital room and all the commotion- not to mention to flying bullets everywhere – still not over that Phelps A-OK’s a civilian using random fire on a hospital. 6) “Oh okay right, cutting off his hands is an option, he can regrow them later anyway, we know that. Don’t know why he simply didn’t blew them up, I think it’d be faster.��- He’s only got so many explosions in his body mass before it becomes inconvenient for his movement, detonating that much mass he can’t reclaim, so he needs to pick and choose when most effectively to blow up. 7) “McBee I warned you, you shouldn’t be laying down while liquefying your mortal coil, it’s too easy to end up choking on your own bits of flesh”- Not a problem is he doesn’t have lungs or a throat anymore. Only thing Nomura needs is a working brain to operate his freakshow of a body 8) “A what now Phelps?

I mean, sure, he needs oxygen to keep his quirk going or he’s gonna fry his own brain, but what the fuck is a deep breathing technique? You mean like, he breathed in a lot of oxygen? My if only someone gave him a quirk to deal with that.”- It’s a technique divers use when preparing to go underwater for an extended period of time, unsure when they’ll surface again. Basically, by exhaling rapidly just before your head goes under, you free up excess oxygen-deprived air molecules in your lungs and can suck a whole bunch of oxygen-rich molecules into your lungs instead with a final inhalation, allowing you to last underwater for longer. 9) “Now what in the fuck’s name- I don’t know why AfO gave you that quirk, but it is extremely convenient he did so. Wonder if this is a side effect of the regeneration quirk, or if it is the regeneration quirk in action, turning you into a mush so you can rebuild yourself”- More like the unstable bomber cells, being so malleable, basically allow him to shapeshift his features and form however much he wishes. At this point, the only part of him we can safely say is still human is his head, and even that might not last forever if he does something like letting the cells cannibalise his remaining parts for more power. 10) “Oh good thing that this… fucking bullshit… also regenerates your clothes, it would suck for you to have to be defeated with your McBee exposed like that”- Or like Nomura wasn’t wearing any clothes from the start except that long coat. In retrospect, it’s hard to tell how much of his casual attire and hero costume were clothing and how much was his actual body.

(Vigilantes ch 102)

11) “Unfortunately those ones can’t be taken down by aiming at the head. Trust me, we tried in the main series.”-Nomura however, can, and from what we see here, it’s just about the only weakness his body has left.

12) “Alright Thanos, keep acting like a prick like that and you’ll see what your fate is gonna be. Little spoiler, it’s gonna be exactly like that of Thanos.”- Koichi was listening, and immediately followed his advice.

13) “Yeah fine, go and try to use your infinity gauntlet on Phelps, a being protected by the immutable flow of fate, see how that’s gonna work out for you.”- Nomura mocked Phelps for being too slow, but ironically that in turn made him too slow to actually detonate him with Koichi’s faster reflexes in the area.

14) “OH HO HO LOOK AT THAT

I GUESS YOU FORGOT YOU’RE NOT THE ONLY SPEEDSTER HERE McBEE

TIME TO GET McOWNED”- Koichi’s so much faster and more decisive than Nomura, he even has time to set his shots to “stun” rather than the lethal attack- which I think is even faster than these softball shots to boot.

15) “REST ASSURED, KOICHI’S HERE TO ANNOY YOU UNTIL YOU FALL DEAD. THERE’S NO ESCAPING THE CRAWLER”- Koichi’s hidden tactic is revealed: Piss off Nomura until he self-combusts in anger! @thelreads

#my hero academia #bnha #chapter replies #thelreads #bnha vigilantes #vigilantes 103

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grumpygreenwitch · 3 months

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The Witches and Wizards Job 9 - 10 - 11

AO3 Link

Buy me a Ko-fi?

Remember: Tumblr has no algorithm. Reblogs give me life.

1-2 + 3-4 + 5-6 + 7-8 + 9-10-11 + 12-13-14 + 15-16 + 17-18-19 + 20-21-22 + 23-24-25 + 26-27-28 + 29-30 + 31-32-33 + 34-35-36 + 37-38 + 39-40-41-42

NINE

Morning came virulently early. No one had gotten much sleep, and in the end the team decided it wasn't worth the attempt. A few calls got enough food delivered to bury the kitchen bar under a variety of donuts, egg sandwiches, coffee and tea, and they stared at each other, simply because it wouldn't have been polite to stare at their consultant.

Harry Dresden, Professional Wizard, was sitting at one corner of the bar, eating slowly, looking like the victim of a bad suntan booth accident. He didn't look nearly as bad as he had when Nate had dragged him up to the loft, at least. As if the shower had washed away the burns.

As if they hadn't been real.

"Hey, man." Hardison was holding a bag of frozen peas to his head with one hand, and a smoothie with the other. He looked profoundly hungover as he took a seat between Parker and Eliot. The sweatpants Dresden was currently wearing were his; the shirt was Eliot's. "Thanks."

"No problem," the wizard replied, unfazed.

"Harry," Sophie asked as gently as she would've out of any of them if they'd been hurt on the job, "what happened down there?"

Dresden sighed and shifted minutely. Eliot knew that motion; he'd grown out of it himself many years back as a dangerous telltale, but he knew it. It was how you braced yourself to focus on what needed to be done, away from the pain. It went right into the hitter's mental file about the wizard, along with the scarred knuckles, the one bandaged hand, the ready way in which Dresden shifted so his back was nearly always to a wall.

"You found a Burning Witchwell." Nate scoffed minutely, but Dresden didn't seem to mind.

"A Burning… ," Sophie repeated carefully.

"Witch's Well," Dresden enunciated more carefully. "Shorthand, Witchwell."

"Is it still dangerous?" Nate asked.

"Probably. I'll go down in a bit and contain it," Dresden sipped at his cup. "It's a trap, a booby trap."

"Can't you destroy it, dismantle it?" Nate insisted.

"I can try." The wizard glared minutely at the mastermind. "Look, you gotta understand, I was not expecting to find a piece of arcane magic on my first night in Boston. Witchwells are incredibly old magic. I've only ever read of them, I've never even known of someone in the past four hundreds years with the chops to make one."

Sophie threw Nate a quelling look before she turned to Dresden once again. She was both amused and concerned that, at the moment, he looked very much like Parker did: frustrated, restive and angry. The wizard knew there was an enemy before him but he couldn't see it, couldn't target it, couldn't act. There was a great deal of physicality to the man; he was obviously rusty when it came to dealing with people, he'd proved that amply in Chicago, when he'd been about as tongue-tied in front of her as a schoolboy, but he was also used to the world lashing out at him while he had to stand there and take it. Parker was mad that Hardison had gotten hurt and there was no one she could hurt back in retaliation; Harry was just mad that someone had gotten hurt on his watch. "Harry, what exactly is a Burning Witch's Well? How is it a booby trap?"

The wizard sighed deeply. "The first thing you have to understand is that there are laws for me, just as there are for everyone else. There's a lot less for me," he said calmly, "but the penalties are a lot heavier. I can bend a lot of them to help you because you already know there's weirdness going on. I can twist some more because you've been put directly in the line of fire, and because honestly, I don't think anyone's going to be able to look you up for an inquest. But there are still questions I won't be able to answer."

"That's not what we hired you for," Nate protested, knowing it wouldn't matter but still wanting it on record.

Unsurprisingly, Sophie threw him a quelling look before turning back to the wizard. "Go on."

"You've read those fairy tales where someone finds a magic book or a magic cauldron, and read the inscription on it, and it activates?"

"'Speak, friend, and enter'," Hardison murmured.

"It works like that. A normal Witchwell is any item, any thing that's been empowered so you read the command words on it and it activates. It does the one thing it's supposed to do, and it turns off. Very neat, very clean - and very hard to make, because, I mean… Just like any other piece of machinery, anything magical needs power to run. You plug in a coffee maker, you charge a phone, you put batteries in a flashlight; magic's no different. A Witchwell doesn't need any of that. All the power it needs comes from its making, from it being used."

Hardison perked up; this sounded suspiciously like a Rule. He liked Rules; science and technology were full of Rules. Hacking wasn't even breaking the Rules so much as it was applying them in new and exciting ways. To hear that magic had Rules was exactly what he'd been hoping for. "Like a Rolex."

"Say what?"

"There's a rotor, a little pendulum thing, inside most Rolex watches," Hardison explained. "You don't need a battery, you just need to wear the watch to keep it going."

Harry looked surprised at this bit of trivia. "You can do that?"

Nate stepped in. "So this thing downstairs," he declared, trying to shepherd the conversation back in place. "It's going to keep running forever?"

"No," the wizard said forcefully. "It's going to run whenever someone reads what it says on it."

"I didn't read it, I couldn't," Hardison said immediately.

"But you tried," Harry said, not unkindly. "That's where the fernflower comes in."

"I'm very curious about this 'fernflower'," Nate said mildly.

Harry gave the mastermind a suspicious look. Apparently he'd already learned that 'mild', when it came to Nate Ford, meant danger. "For starters, it's not a real plant."

Nate pinned a vaguely murderous look on the wizard.

"Harry," Sophie was trying not to laugh. "You and Hardison didn't get hurt by an imaginary flower."

"The fernflower didn't hurt him, or me." He gestured, trying to ferry his own thoughts back into a semblance of order. "Fernflower's a flower of the Nevernever, the world on the other side, fairies, all th-"

"Fairies are real?!" Parker interrupted him.

Dresden closed his eyes and fought to focus. "Yes, they are, no, they're not nice, no, they don't grant wishes, if you see one, run."

"Why? What would you do if you saw one?" she challenged.

"Run," Dresden replied earnestly without missing a beat. "It's rare even there. It only grows in places of power, places were magic naturally gathers. It's that plant you hear about in fairy tales that gives you magical powers, but only for a little bit. It lets you talk to animals, protects you from curses or," he sighed, looking at Hardison, who immediately realized the cause-and-effect involved.

"It lets you read magic," the hacker said slowly, testing the words even as he spoke them.

"That's the booby part," the wizard admitted.

"Because even if whoever found the cylinder didn't know anything about magic, they'd still activate it." Hardison lowered the bag of peas. "That's nasty, Dresden."

"That's the harmless bit," the wizard told him wryly, "hangover aside. The killer in there was the night's breath."

"Let me guess," Nate pointed out dryly. "Another plant that doesn't exist?"

"Oh, no, you can grow night's breath on this side," Dresden replied in the same tone. "It's just illegal and if you do grow it a man in grey with a big sword's gonna show at your doorstep, torch your garden and cut your head off."

There was a very long beat of silence.

"That brought up so many questions I don't even know where to begin," Sophie declared, stunned. Nate scoffed and worked on refilling his cup.

"I got one," Eliot stepped in. "Dresden, you washed off the burns. You were covered in blisters. Hardison was covered in blisters. They were real."

"They sure hurt like it," Hardison muttered.

"But they still washed off. You're hurt, but you're not hurt as bad as you were."

"He doesn't actually have magic." Dresden pointed at Hardison. "Night's breath burns magic, corrodes it. In his case, it burned off the fernflower, not him."

"And in your case?"

"I sloughed off what it had damaged. A bit like scouring a wound that's gone bad; it's not pleasant, but at least the stuff underneath's healthy. And I'm thinking I can't afford to take my time healing, if you're finding Burning Witchwells just lying around."

The fridge began to rattle.

"Getting hurt doesn't work like that," Eliot protested tightly.

"Stuff from the Nevernever doesn't last on this side," the wizard countered. "It needs a power source, energy, will, same as anything else. For starters, the fernflower. But once that burned off, all it needed was belief. If…" He trailed off, staring at Hardison in sudden befuddlement.

"Alec Hardison." Hardison put aside the smoothie and offered his hand.

"Harry Dresden." Dresden shook it.

"Pleasure to meet you."

"You bet." Neither man missed a beat. "If I could get to Hardison before he realized what the night's breath had done, before it had time to cement itself in his mind, I knew he'd be fine."

Hardison started laughing a bit. "You had to catch me before it got compiled." He looked terribly pleased. Despite his words to Parker or Nate, Hardison had expected a hoax and a riddle in equal parts. What he had never, in his wildest imaginings, had expected, was that he (and Arthur C. Clarke) had been right. But he was, they were. In his own way, the partially singed Chicago beanpole was just a different sort of hacker, with a different language, with different tools. Just like Hardison was a master of his own science, so was Dresden. Dresden's tech was just incompatible with everything else.

The big ol' monolith was indeed just a different breed of computer.

"I think I'd like to know what's going on now, if it's not too much trouble," the wizard said evenly, looking at Sophie and Nate.

Surprisingly, it was the mastermind who replied to the request. "You go lock that canister down," he told Dresden. "By the time you get back hopefully we'll have hard copies of everything so we don't have any more screen mishaps -"

The coffee-maker chose that moment to chirp sadly and shut down.

"Yup." Dresden hopped to his feet.

"Eliot, go with him," Nate directed.

"Alright."

"Can I come?" Parker asked hopefully.

"Are you good at following directions in a hurry?"

"The sort of directions people give in a hurry, yes."

A smile twitched along the wizard's mouth, making him look younger and handsome for the briefest of moments. "Can't argue with that condition. Come on."

TEN

If Parker and Eliot had been expecting to see some magnificent display of magical fireworks as their contractor dealt with the canister, they were sorely disappointed. Dresden stepped warily enough into the room, and examined everything else: the table, the camera, the rumpled tablecloth on which the canister rested - everything but the canister itself.

"You got any duct tape?" he asked Eliot, further confusing both thief and hitter. Then, with utmost care, he taped a piece of cardboard from a box of straws on top of the inscription of the canister.

"That's it?" Eliot asked in disbelief.

"Yeah," the wizard shrugged. "Can't read it, it can't activate." He shook the canister slightly; they all heard something sloshing in there, and Dresden grimaced. "I don't like that sound, though." He wrapped the canister in the tablecloth, duct-taped that down as well, set it back down on the table and dragged a sharpie out of a pocket in his weather-beaten duster. He drew a long, deep breath.

Then he sketched a near perfect circle on the table and began to sketch swift, unrecognizable scribbles around the perimeter.

Parker brightened up. "What are you doing?"

"Making it so the owner can't track this thing to here," Dresden replied distractedly. "At least not without warning me that they're doing so. It's a warding circle." He gave them both a very level look. "Whoever did is very, very powerful. Powerful enough that just their image, not even their presence, is messing with your equipment. I doubt I can stop them if they really want their little death bottle back, but I can at least be here to get a good look when they come for it." The fingers of Dresden's bandaged hand twitched restlessly.

With Eliot carrying the camera, they headed back up to the loft. Rather than gathering before the bank of screens, they surrounded the kitchen bar once again, cleared of food and buried instead in any number of documents, printouts and paperwork.

Dresden picked up a chair and slid it back and away a whole two feet when Eliot put the camera down on the table. Nate shot the wizard a pointed look. "All done?"

"As much as it can be without my workshop," Dresden admitted.

"What do you need from your workshop?" Nate asked distractedly as he read from a very official-looking folder.

"The list is endless… Is that… Is that a police report?"

"No." Nate tipped his chin vaguely at the bar. "That's the police report. This is the insurance investigation report."

Dresden's mouth worked emptily for a moment.

"Harry," Sophie said mildly. "I think it's time we told you what we know."

"That'd be nice," he admitted, not quite managing to keep the doubt out of his tone or his expression. It quickly changed to disbelief as Hardison began speaking, even though every now and again the hacker got sidetracked into grumbling while he dug through the mountain of paperwork to find some tidbit or another.

"Is it magic?" Sophie asked into a brief silence when Hardison finished speaking.

"What? Yes." Dresden shook himself. "Yeah, of course it is. I knew that the moment I realized you'd found a Witchwell. Of course there's magic involved."

"You look so unconvinced, it's all," she pointed out.

"I'm not unconvinced, I'm -" He hesitated visibly, and then smiled wryly. "The people who hire me rarely tell me everything they know. Or anything at all."

Nate set a hand on the papers, looking deeply thoughtful. "Honesty, mister Dresden. I believe I mentioned that before."

"You did." Dresden said nothing else. He could feel the mood around the table sharpening, every eye coming to rest on Ford.

"You know what bothers me?" the mastermind said at last.

"That people nearly died?" Sophie suggested.

Nate flapped a hand at her. "That doesn't bother me, that upsets me. Very different."

"That they could have ruined the artwork?" Dresden suggested meekly.

"Argonite systems are designed to be completely safe to the art," the mastermind told him distractedly, picking up and tossing two stapled pages on the center of the table. "The Tetryakov Gallery is delighted, actually, that the Gardner Museum was willing to kill in order to protect the collection."

"Is that… Is that normal?"

"They're Russians, Harry," Sophie explained, leaning closer. "If you really want to see cutthroat, you should try to get an art loan from the Egyptians. Or the Japanese."

"What bothers me," Nate said firmly, "is that we found the cylinder at all." Silence fell around the bar. "Nothing else was this sloppy, not even the ones that could've gotten away with it."

"Rush job," Eliot murmured.

"Why?" Sophie asked. "What changed, what was different?"

"We were there," Parker pointed out.

"We aren't the target." Nate shot that one down. "We hadn't even taken the job at that point."

"Fedorov was there." Eliot picked up their dossier on the Russian enforcer and threw it atop everything else. "He did say this has been targeting people from their side."

Nate paused to consider that.

"I have been meaning to make time for the Sokolov collection, but I am a busy man, mister Ford."

"Fedorov might be a target, but this wasn't for him. He'd planned this visit ahead of time; they would have known he was coming, it wouldn't have been sloppy."

"The woman," Sophie murmured. "Baba Yaga."

Nate grimaced openly, then visibly braced himself. "Dresden, you're up. What can you tell us about Baba Yaga that we don't already know?"

"That I hope it's not her? If she is, there's next to nothing I can do to help you. You could call in a dozen wizards and they still wouldn't be able to help you." Suddenly aware that he had the team's attention, the wizard exhaled resignedly. "Stories and fairy tales aside, Baba Yaga is… a single step down and sideways from a god. Just like prayer and belief, and time, and a bunch of other variables empower a god, she's the same way. She depends on people to empower her, yes, but she's also been around so long that she has gained other sorts of power, magic, knowledge, alchemy, favors. She used to be a kind of litmus test for royalty, not just Russian, but most of the Slavic bloodlines. The Royal had to either trick her or survive her to prove they were worthy of the throne."

"And if they didn't?"

"She ate them," Parker replied before Dresden could.

The wizard, looking sheepish, had to agree. "She ate them."

"She ate p- like, for real she ate people?" Hardison demanded confirmation.

"You'd be surprised how many things out there think we're just convenient little walking snacks," Dresden said, voice tight. "But. It's entirely possible that she also just ate them metaphorically, like… eating their magic, eating their mind, their luck, their knowledge, eating half a dozen things that could, would, leave them alive. Just not in a way they'd appreciate."

"Better to just get eaten," Eliot muttered, daunted.

"Do we agree, then, that she's the target?" Sophie asked.

"No, we agree on nothing just yet, "Nate protested. "Only that she was there, unexpectedly. Someone saw a shot and they took it. So why was she there to begin with?"

"The portrait." Parker rummaged through the mound of paper until she found the printout of Nate's photograph, and frowned minutely at it. "She really does look upset."

"Can I see that?" Dresden asked politely, and Parker surrendered the printout. He squinted at it. "Do you have a bigger one?"

"Sure, the one hanging on a wall at the Gardner Museum, why?" Nate told him flippantly.

"This." Dresden stood up to move closer to the table, then hesitated. Hardison picked up the camera and put it aside, and the wizard set the paper down, pointing at the barely visible flash of green under the man in black's coat. "This is magic."

"How can you tell?" Sophie moved closer.

"I can't, that's why I want a closer look. But the setting around it, that silver, diamonds, whatever it might be? They just saw me draw something like it downstairs. A warding circle."

"Who's the man?" Eliot asked. "Did we figure that out?

Nate stared at the printout. "He was there, too."

"You saw him?" Sophie turned to look at him.

"I'm… not sure." The mastermind closed his eyes, trying to remember that moment. Motes of dust in the golden sunlight, barely stirring. The quiet murmur of a dozen admiring conversations. The portraits all around. Sophie nearby. Parker. Fedorov. The old woman.

The man, passing by the open doorway before the shutters slammed down.

Nate opened his eyes and shook his head. "I saw someone that looked like him, but it was just a quick glimpse. It could have been anything."

"Harry, who is he?"

"He could be anyone, a Royal, a pupil. It's said she took on apprentices every now and again."

"An asshole. That's what Fedorov said." Parker cocked her head. "I kinda agree."

"Hardison, did you get a chance to go through the security camera footage?" Nate shuffled through the paperwork.

"No, because every time I tried, my failsafes started beeping. How do you- is there any technology you can use?" the hacker demanded of Dresden.

"I've got a landline, and a VW Beetle," the wizard was trying not to sound amused at Hardison's plaintive demand. "Anything old. The older the better. Pre-WWII is pretty much guaranteed to work fine."

"Oh, my god, you want me using…" Hardison sighed in exasperation, hanging his head for a moment. "Fine. Fine, I guess backwards-compatible means we have to go way back." He looked at Nate. "I gotta go shopping, but I can have something set up by lunch."

"Parker and I could take Harry to the museum," Sophie suggested.

"Why? The painting's not there anymore." When everyone looked at her, Parker shrugged. "The MET demanded we move the collection to secure storage, and the Gardner doesn't have the vault space. It's in the MFA vaults now."

"How long would it take you to get in there?" Nate asked without hesitation.

"I can be in and out with it by lunchtime, too."

"No, I don't want you to steal the painting, Parker. You and your friend worked too hard to get this loan set up. How long would it take you to get yourself and Dresden into the vault?"

"Oh." She turned to look at him. "Can you make yourself invisible?"

"Uh, no. That's a little involved, and I don't have my workshop."

She huffed. "Magic's not very fun, is it?"

"Parker, how long would it take you to break into the vault if there were no other security concerns?" It was Sophie's turn to look like she was thinking hard.

The thief thought on it and shrugged. "Nine minutes from the front door to the vault. It's a Milwaukee 2300, they're a little temperamental sometimes."

Sophie turned to look at Nate. "We don't need anything from the vault. We just need Harry to get in, have a look and get out."

Nate paused to digest that. "The Mona Lisa?" he suggested. Sophie's smile told him he'd guessed right.

"Mix in a little Golden Fiddle, and we could probably go as long as twenty minutes before the police are even called."

"Hardison, how many decent fakes can you give me in," Nate checked his watch, "five hours?"

The hacker looked delighted. "Give me six and you can have a hundred solid."

"Lunchtime, then." Nate nodded and moved to the door, where Sophie was already waiting for him. "Dresden, make your list."

"My list?"

"You keep saying you need your workshop, which is fair, but I need you working at full efficiency. Make your list. I doubt it's endless but hey, we like challenges around here." The mastermind pointed. "Parker's going to run you through a little escapade -"

"Are we breaking into a museum vault?!" The wizard sounded a little indignant, and a lot full of disbelief.

"Well, yes," Nate admitted cheerfully, "but we're not stealing anything," he added, as if that made everything better, and walked out of the loft.

ELEVEN

The con went off just after lunch. It gave the team time to set up a few failsafes, and gave their hired wizard a chance to stuff his pockets with a variety of very strange things.

Around 3 PM, with the wind rushing down Huntington Avenue and the trains of the Green Line clattering back and forth, the nondescript white van finally found a parking spot a little bit away from the entrance to the museum. There was a sparse crowd hanging around, mostly art students waiting for the brief period when admittance was free. A great many of them had sketch pads and were busily putting down, in broad charcoal strokes or distracted color lines, the ephemera of the people passing them by. The rear doors of the van swung open. "Ladies and gentlemen!" A powerfully built man in faded jeans, heavy steel-toed boots and a comfortable jacket sat on the edge of the van's bed, his voice pitched to carry and catch the attention of those around him, his good looks and the peaceable, charming half-smile he wore like sunlight set to keep it. "How about we engage in some mischief!"

He gestured to the back of the van, where canvases sat in neat, orderly rows, hanging from a specialty shelf. "I have one hundred and twenty pieces of art here. Twenty bucks a pop, only one per customer, no refunds, no returns, no buyer's remorse." The man reached into the rack, gently dislodged one of the smaller canvases, and set it on his lap.

A sigh went up from the crowd. Renoir's 'Madeleine', one of the artist's smallest portraits, well known to be in a private Louisiana collection, gazed soulfully at them. "At least one of them," the man told the crowd while he had their attention, "is the real deal."

Gasps followed that proclamation. "Yeah, right!" Someone yelled. A crowd was beginning to gather around the back of the van.

Eliot grinned merrily. "You don't gotta believe me, man." He set the Renoir aside, reached for a larger canvas. The crowd cried out in disbelief. Titian's 'Salome' stared them all down haughtily. "It's your buck against my bang. You can just walk away."

"How much for the 'Salome'?" a woman's voice shouted from the crowd.

"Twenty bucks for each of the nine."

"Can I buy four?"

"One a pop."

"I'll give you fifty each for four of them," another man exclaimed, rushing up to the van.

"Nope, twenty each, one per customer."

"I can just come back," the man protested.

"My man, you're gonna what, take it off the frame and roll it up to hide it in your shirt? Titian's 'Salome'?" Eliot pinned a level gaze on the man, who caved pretty much immediately. He still passed out a twenty, and Eliot readily surrendered the canvas. "Pleasure doing business with you."

The crowd began to close in. Seemingly at random, Eliot grabbed another canvas and brought it forth.

Every voice went profoundly silent. The hitter peeked around at the painting. A masterpiece, missing since World War II, stared back at him. "Oh, that one." His grin was pleasant, his blue eyes full of cheer. "Got four of those."

"Twenty, I got a twenty!" A young woman surged breathlessly forward.

"You got it, sweetheart. Wanna wipe your fingers before you grab it, though," he pointed out, offering her a tissue so she could scrub charcoal dust off her hands.

The crowd detonated. People rushed forward, chatting, exclaiming, questioning. It was a lottery, yes, but at 100-to-1 odds it was brutally effective as bait. Word went out. Passersby detoured. Not everyone was buying, not everyone was convinced that any of the paintings were real, rather than merely exceptional copies. Arguments exploded discussing brushstrokes, pigments, styles.

Jessamine Lochlin fought her way to the front of the crowd. "One 'Salome'," she demanded breathlessly. "And I'll have you know this is just the worst -"

"One 'Salome' for the gorgeous young lady." Eliot turned the full force of his charm onto the young curator. "Picked it special just for you."

Lochlin went pink to the roots of her hair, her righteous indignation choking out with a squeak. By the time she recovered she was short a twenty, richer by a highly suspicious canvas, and the horrible man peddling a potential masterwork out of the back of a van had moved on to argue with two people who each wanted a copy of 'Madeleine' - except they wanted the same copy.

She huffed angrily, and pressed her mouth into a thin, undecided line. Some part of her still wanted to tell the man fifty different kinds of whatfor. A tiny part of her wanted another one of those gorgeous grins, but she stepped on that part with angry determination.

Most of her, however, was whispering very loudly. What if it's true?

That was the part that won, eventually. It would have won in any of the people there, most of whom loved art in one form or another. She turned and fought her way through the crowd, half-running, half-speedwalking to the entrance to Boston's Museum of Fine Arts, rushing through the afternoon crowds and the beautiful displays without seeing either.

"Jessamine!" A familiar voice, a soft Russian burr, called out to her, and the curator turned in both surprise and exasperation. It was the Russian woman, Iggy's friend, the curator, apparently admiring the Japanese exhibit. "Hello, what a pleasant surprise."

"Oh, hi!" Lochlin beamed at the woman, paused exactly three seconds, not even listening to what she was saying. "Bye!" She ran on, leaving the other curator open-mouthed and puzzled. She burst into the main laboratory. "Michael, I need your Titian database!"

There were two men currently in the room, a vast, airy, sealed space full of sedately humming, dormant machinery under blue halogen lights. One was an older man, lanky and silver-haired, the unruly mane braided at his back. He had an indecent amount of stubble and a lab coat over a tee telling the world that finger-painting was an acceptable form of art, the writing surrounded by prehistoric hand stencils. The other was a short, stocky man with little hair on top of his head, but an impeccably groomed silver beard and moustache, a fine button-down shirt and slacks under his own coat. He sputtered in surprise at the invasion. "Jess, what on Earth -"

She hefted 'Salome' and while she didn't quite slam it on the work table between the two men, it was a close thing.

They gaped at it, speechless.

"There is a man out there selling these out of the back of a van. He's promised one's the real deal, I bought a 'Salome', and I need your Titian database, and then I need your Raphael database because he has a 'Portrait'."

"A portrait?" The lanky man straightened up. "The 'Portrait'?!"

Lochlin nodded intently.

"Fakes. All fakes. A conman's game, Eli, don't you dare, Elijah!" The other man was already running out. Michael Erlkist, one of the MFA's most seasoned curators and its Egyptian and Fertile Crescent expert, scoffed. "They're all fakes, they have to be," he protested at Lochlin.

"Michael!" she all but shrieked at him.

"Alright, alright!" The man moved over to one of the computers. "Mel isn't here, though, Jess. She's the Titian specialist, none of us are near as good."

The young curator paused, struck by the truth of that. As much science as one could apply to telling the difference between an original and its replicas, verifying artwork, particularly paintings, was still a matter of skill, of finesse, of expertise acquired on the field. "We're plenty good, you and I."

"I like mummies and you do watercolors." His tone was dry and deadpan. "And you bought this out of the back of a van."

"Michael, he has a 'Portrait'."

"Everyone always has a 'Portrait'."

"Are you willing to take that chance? The one in a million chance that it's the real 'Portrait'? That this is the real 'Salome'? He has nine 'Madeleine's!"

"'Madeleine' is in a private collection in Louisiana," he retorted primly.

"Is it? Would they have said anything if they'd lost it, if it got stolen?"

"Jess, what do you want?" He demanded impatiently.

"I want to know if this is the real 'Salome'!"

"What if it is?" Without letting her answer, he asked, "What if it isn't?"

"If it isn't that means another chance that one of the 'Portrait's is real," she told him with hyperbolic focus.

That shut him up. He turned and typed furiously on the computer. "This isn't going to work, you know. We know the theory, the basics. Never mind that no one can authenticate a painting without taking at least a few hours to do so. You need someone with more expertise, who's actually worked with other collections."

She huffed angrily at him, but couldn't dispute that point. Chewing on her lip, a sudden idea occurred to Lochlin. "Get started with the analysis, I'll be right back."

"Oh, what now," he moaned.

She was already gone, sprinting past the late afternoon crowds and looking about desperately. She nearly ran down a woman and her two kids as she closed in on her target. "Hey! Hi. Hello. Ekaterina, right?"

Ekaterina Yegorov turned and smiled her calm, steady smile at the younger curator. "Please, Jessamine, Kate is fine. Ekaterina is for formal occasions and for customers, you do not need to -"

"That's nice. Have you ever curated Titian?"

"Oh, another personal favorite we share, is it?" The Russian brightened up at once. "The detail work on 'Flora' is just so exquisite -"

"Good. Come with me."

Ekaterina found herself all but hauled along, her sensible heels clacking a harried staccato on the marble floors, her confusion warring with her implacably calm demeanor. Lochlin dragged her past several guards and security locks and very nearly shoved her into the lab.

"Jessamine Esther Lochlin, you do not bring strangers into my lab!" Erlkist cried out.

"She's not a stranger! She's an independent curator. She's good, too, I should know, I've spoken to her before! And she knows Titian."

Both curators turned to look at Ekaterina, who shrugged delicately. "My work is discreet, but not secret," she declared, flicking her fingers to the computer. "You can find it if you search for it."

"Let me just do that, if you don't mind," Erlkist replied with stiff, frantic courtesy, turning back to the computer and tripping over his own fingers.

"Between the three of us, we can surely tell -" Lochlin hissed impatiently at him.

"Ah-buph-buph-buph," he shushed her. "You brought a stranger into my lab, Jessamine Lochlin," he accused her irately, but equally sotto-vocce.

"We need more eyes on this," she snapped. The screen suddenly began to load a vast list of responses to Erlking's query. "Besides, she's obviously not a stranger," she declared, gesturing sharply.

They stared; they read. Ekaterina Yegorov was, as she'd pointed out, discreet but not a secret. Her work was there to be found, everywhere, from small private collections to some names that made both the curators glance nervously at her over their shoulders.

It didn't matter if they were being subtle enough or not, she wouldn't have caught them: Yegorov was curiously examining the 'Salome' Lochlin had left on the table. Lochlin elbowed Erlking minutely, and they both turned as covertly as they could to watch as idle curiosity became radiant focus.

Yegorov began to mutter in Russian. She wouldn't touch the painting, obviously, but she paced back and forth along three sides of the table, leaning close and squinting fiercely at it from each side she could reach. "Bozhe moi," she breathed after a moment, her expression stunned and her voice strangled, "is this 'Salome'? I thought we had lost it to some, some," she sought angrily for a foul enough word, "selfish private collector."

Lochlin gave Erlking a triumphant look.

"That is not proof!" he protested. "That is one opinion out of three -"

Elijah Randall burst into the lab, wheezing, his face red, carrying a canvas. "Oh, my god, I just bought the 'Madeleine' for twenty bucks out of the back of a van." He laid the canvas down on the table next to 'Salome' and leaned down, his cheek nearly on the table, making frantic little noises.

"It's a fake! Elijah, you know this con! We all know this con! This is Brooklyn all over again!"

"Wasn't one of those real?" Yegorov pointed out meekly.

"I know Renoir, Michael!" the lanky man fired back. "Oh, my god, I touched it, where are the glov - Sorry about the 'Salome', Jess.

"But," Lochlin blinked at him. "'Salome''s real."

Everyone in the lab came to a dead stop. He sputtered a question he couldn't finish. Lochlin gestured at Yegorov.

"Obviously I would need to go into more detail," the Russian woman admitted. "But I would readily offer my word that this is the real 'Salome'.

Eli and Jess crossed a look. "He's got multiple originals," she breathed.

"He's got a 'Portrait'," he choked.

"Who's got a portrait?" Yegorov asked in confusion.

"Everyone always has a 'Portrait'!" Erlking yelled. "It's the most counterfeited painting in the history of painting! Everyone wants to be the one who finds it, undamaged, safe, famous!"

"Wait, the 'Portrait'?" The Russian woman's attention sharpened all at once. "'Portrait of a Young Man'?" she asked Randall.

He nodded breathlessly.

"They're fakes! They're all fakes!"

Yegorov looked at 'Salome'.

They all looked at 'Salome'.

Yegorov looked at 'Madeleine'.

They all looked at 'Madeleine'.

"Um, I think, if you do not mind, I will go -" she said most politely, inching for the door.

Randall and Lochlin sprinted past her and raced out.

"No, don't -!" Erlking was too polite a creature to swear openly, but his face was blotchy and his expression was angry. "Stay right there!" he yelled at Yegorov, for lack of any other target to take the brunt of his mood. She jumped and nodded warily. He snatched for his coat and ran after his peers.

The lab was silent, only the quiet whisper of technology surrounding the lone woman.

Sophie gave the curators ninety seconds to get out and succumb to the mob mentality Eliot had provoked outside before she opened the door and peeked out, just in time to see Parker and Dresden coming up to her. "You are going to wreck this place," he told the wizard almost gleefully.

"I'm already breaking into a museum full of priceless art," Dresden shot back dryly. "Destruction of property is low on the list of crimes I'm committing today."

"Oh, you'll be fine, Harry," she grinned wickedly at him, holding the door open for them. While Parker could have breached the security defenses of the MFA, Sophie infiltrating instead had shaved nearly three minutes off their timeline. "It's just computers, machines."

Harry was staring all around him with a little grimace, trying to stay dead center of the room and as far away from anything digital-looking as possible. "The computers aren't important?"

"Not as much as the art. They can replace a spectrograph." Sophie put on gloves while Parker moved to the far end of the lab, where a door stood discreetly to one side, a lock blinking sedately at them all. "'Salome' can never be replaced," the grifter murmured, picking up the canvas with utmost care and setting it aside, safely out of the way.

Dresden blinked at her. "You m- You mean it's real?!"

"Yes, of course. The Golden Fiddle only works if some part of what you offer is real, Harry. Normally you have a fiddle, but sometimes you have to get a little creative."

"So this is the one real painting you had in there?"

"God, no," Sophie took off the gloves and pocketed them. "This con was geared toward people who know their art, Harry. One real work wouldn't have fooled them." The lock, under Parker's ministrations, beeped cheerily and the door hissed open to a tiny room that looked very much like an airlock, since it actually was one. "There's seven originals," Sophie explained.

"What is it you guys do again?" Dresden croaked hoarsely.

"We're past the lab," Parker said mildly.

From his spot in the service parking lot behind the museum, Hardison stared at the screen and the chatter he was getting from the earbuds of the team. There was an almighty amount of feedback trying to whistle into the collective channel from Sophie's line, which he took to mean she was the one currently closest to Dresden. Giving the wizard an earbud had nearly blown the other five; Hardison was sensible enough not to try a second time, but everything in him itched to know one of his teammates, however temporary, was in there without communications, without support. It made him twice as aware of anything else that might clue him as to Dresden's location and general state of being. When Parker spoke, he was ready. "Nate?"

"Internal power's off." Their mastermind had never been the sort to shy away from getting his hands dirty - literally, in this case, when he'd had to hunt down the immense generators that supplied power to the security systems of the museum and do mean things to them. He rubbed grease off his hands and scowled minutely. So much effort wasted for a hunch of 'magic'. "Eliot, how're you holding up?"

"Oh, we're fine, Nate." Normally a Gold Rush would have run with two people, but Jessamine Lochlin already knew three of the team's members, and Hardison had been needed elsewhere. Eliot, shuffling into the van to reach canvases further back, was having a blast with his current partner. "Dresden's security's working like a charm. Right, Mouse?" The immense Temple dog, sitting shotgun in the van, whuffled; after those gigantic jaws had caught and delicately held onto the hand of someone trying to break into the van, no one else had tried.

Hardison shut off the external power feeding into the lab area. Nothing much seemed to change for two of the three people stepping out of the airlock into a dimly lit hallway. For Parker, it was as if an incredibly loud world had gone abruptly silent. Chem-detectors, bubbling microscopically to themselves, went quiet. The delicate subsonic zap of the laser grid faded. The heat sensor began to cool with inaudible pings. Only the lights that dotted the hallway beyond the airlock, which ran on their own dedicated batteries, remained.

She led the way at a quick trot, Sophie a step behind, Dresden three. One of the lights above them crackled and fizzled out, and both women turned to glare at the wizard, who shrugged awkwardly. "Are you seriously going to crack a museum vault in nine minutes?"

Parker grinned at him. "I could do it in four, but I'm not gonna." She lifted a keycard with a picture of a stocky, older man, balding, with a neat beard and moustache. "Hardison, we're here."

"Restoring power now," Hardison replied. The lights brightened. The lock next to the door blinked back to life. Parker ran the card through it and the immense vault door clicked and clanked loudly as several bolts slid open.

"Sophie, tell Dresden to move away from you," Hardison said suddenly into the line. "The feedback's getting bad."

"He is away from us," she replied as Parker dragged the immense door open, glancing at the wizard, who was five steps away and looking decidedly uncomfortable with the proceedings.

Hardison chewed on his lip. "He might be affecting the intranet system I'm piggybacking for our communications." The buds would have never been powerful enough to get a signal past the tremendous amount of steel and concrete currently between the outside world and the three interlopers, but the museum had run its own communication network into the vaults. Unfortunately, as with most technology trapped in direct proximity to a wizard, it was becoming increasingly unhappy. "Hurry."

The door swung open on soundless hydraulic systems. "Harry, we're about to lose comms," Sophie told him tersely. "In, out, now."

He charged past them, his coat flaring behind him. They followed him into the vault. It was a cold, dark space, lighted only as much as necessary. Racks, easels and pedestals stood at regular intervals, granting no space for observation, merely for each piece in storage not to touch its neighbors.

"We need light," Sophie murmured. Both her and Parker reached for their phones.

A warm, silvery radiance filled the space, spilled all around them, touched the shadows and sent them scurrying away. Both of them stared. Dresden had lifted up the plain pendant he carried tucked under his shirt and it glowed like starlight between his fingers. Sophie could only gape; as magic went it was nothing, a tiny trick, likely easily replicated with tech. But it was there, before her, real. She'd thought herself willing to believe; she hadn't realized how far she'd been from taking the actual leap of faith until that moment.

Parker grinned triumphantly at the sight. Finally, some proper magic.

"Where is it?"

"Here." The thief led the way to the largest frame in the vault, Sokolov's double portrait. Harry followed after her -

The buds screeched feedback. Wherever they were, all of the team winced.

"Dresden!" Hardison yelled.

"Sorry, sorry!" Though Harry couldn't hear the hacker, he could readily figure out why the two women with him had jerked violently and slapped a hand to their ears, and stepped immediately back.

"No, Harry, you step forward, we step back," Sophie told him sternly, giving him a little shove, Parker and her moving further into the vault. Just like that, the wizard was before Sokolov's portrait.

Almost immediately he was frowning. "Stay behind me," he told them distractedly. "Can I touch it?"

"No," both women replied tartly.

Dresden lifted his free hand and ran it just shy of the portrait's surface. "Ok, this is -" He grimaced minutely. "This better not be another trap," he muttered and flicked his fingers.

There was a flash of deep, rich green light, brighter than what he'd conjured. On the portrait, the half-hidden emerald brooch shone like a star, as if someone had kindled a light behind it to show it off as one of the most striking jewels in the world.

"What is it?" Parker asked while Sophie stared, open-mouthed.

"A lock," the wizard replied without turning. "A literal lock." He took a full step back and threw his arms open. The entire frame, ancient gilt and carved wood, began to glow. "This isn't just a portrait, it's a door." He went very still. "It's a gate."

"Good or bad?" Nate asked on the line. Sophie repeated the question.

"Well, odds are it opens to the Nevernever," Dresden replied, then seemed to hear his own words. "So bad. Very bad. Except it's, you know, locked."

"Bad enough that we should take it?"

"No," Nate refuted at once. The line crackled over the one negative.

"Parker, no," Sophie gasped.

"I'm not leaving another death bottle lying around," the thief declared sharply. "Particularly around Jess. Harry?"

Dresden dropped his arms and his head and turned very slowly. "You… have a point," he admitted unhappily, then rubbed at his forehead. "You both saw it. It took nothing to activate the lock. Obviously without the key it's not doing anything, but if the key does show up…" He trailed off. "Almost nothing in the Nevernever's friendly. Neutral at best. Hungry, almost always."

Sophie gritted her teeth and made the only decision she felt she could make. "Everything we need to safely move it should be back at the lab."

Nate huffed, rushing out and hopping on the driver's seat of Hardison's van. "Eliot, start a few arguments. They'll need a little more time. Sophie -"

The line squealed feedback, fired off a few angry popping sounds, and Hardison hissed. "I lost the communication intranet. It burned out."

Nate exhaled sharply, turning to look at the museum.

The three people inside rushed out of the vault, Sophie giving out terse directions. "Harry, will taking the frame apart affect th-" They came out of the vault, around the immense door, and face to face with six people clad in black from head to toe.

Everyone came to a stunned halt.

One of the black-clad figures snarled something in Russian.

The three didn't hesitate: they stepped right back into the vault.

#leverage #nathan ford #parker #sophie devereaux #eliot spencer #alec hardison #the dresden files #harry dresden #fanfiction #my writing #urban fantasy #crossover

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night-market-if · 2 years

Text

Paper Lanterns Part 25

Paper Lanterns is a community based IF game here on Tumblr. I need something to fuel the creative fires while I chip away at The Night Market demo, and I want to give you all a little something in the meantime. Here’s how it will work.

I will post a snipped under the cut every few days. At the end of the post will be three options. Comment below or send me an ask if you would rather be anonymous, over which route you would like to see. I will tally them up and write the majority option and post it in the following days. From there, we repeat the process until we, as a community, have crafted our story.

Please reblog and share this with others. The more people we have participating, the more fun I think this can be for us.

Winner of the last vote: Let Malcolm take care of you.

You felt yourself relax against the pillows, your own hand coming up to ensure that he kept his placed on your cheek. “I mean,” you grin, “It was pretty impressive. The way I handled myself in there.”

Malcolm snorted. “Oh, I’m sure. Heroic, even. Rushing in there with absolutely no plan and, I would like to add, no money even if they did have a bail set for her.” Sighing, Malcolm pulled away, but just as you were about to protest at the lack of contact, he picked up your hand and pressed your knuckles to his lips. “Seriously, what did you hope for with that?”

“That my natural charm would see me through.”

“I’ve known you for quite a few years, Button. You’re not as charming as you think you are.”

You grin at the light jab. It was something he used to tell you all the time. Back in the early days before you two were together. Back when he still thought you had no interest in him and was trying his hardest to play it cool. Malcolm had been less confident then. Still trapped in a body that he didn’t claim as his own. Still dealing with a mother who never wanted a son.

“Is Hazel really okay?” you ask after a moment. You didn’t think the image of her being led out of the shop by the Velvet Guards was one you would ever forget. The fear in her eyes had been potent. It reminded you too heavily of the night her mother died.

He nodded. “She is. A little rattled, I think, but dealing. I told her to stay here for a bit. Everything is sorted and Tandri shouldn’t be a problem, nor the Velvet Guard but…” he shrugged.

“How did you do it? Honestly.”

Something flickered across Malcolm’s eyes. It was a spark you had seen a few times before. One that always let you know you were getting too close. Usually, you pressed. You pressed and pressed until a fight broke out between you two, and it left both of you as nothing more than a festering ball of anger. It was the initial response you had in the moment but maybe you were too tired for the fight. Or maybe everything else finally won out, and you just wanted to pretend for a while.

Holding your hand tightly, he looked down at you. “I love you.’

You startled a little at the admission. Not because you thought he no longer did, but because it felt heavier this time. As if he needed you to know. That it was more important than anything.

“What did you do?” your eyes narrow.

Sighing, Malcolm tapped your hip and helped you scoot over in the cramped bed. So many nights had been spent practically on top of each other, snoring in each other's ear because he didn’t want to spend the money on something bigger. That, and neither of you could figure out how to haul a larger mattress through the tiny front door.

Settling in beside you, Malcolm wraps one arm around your shoulder, curling your sore body into his until your head rests just below his chin. His sweater was soft as you tug at it idly. Hazel must have whipped something up for you to take because you knew you should be in a bit more pain than you were, given that you were stabbed. But here, lying in his arms, you couldn’t imagine why you would even complain.

“What happened to the guy?” you ask. There was no need to reference which one. You wondered if Malcolm had seen the guard stab you or had just found your body crumpled on the floor.

Carding his fingers through your hair, Malcolm turned his lips towards you, pressing them against your temple and holding you tight. “Did I ever tell you why I fell in love with you?” You couldn’t help notice how he hadn’t answered. You didn’t care either.

“No,” you whisper.

“It was stupid,” he said, his chest rumbling with laughter. “It was when you were trying to quit smoking. I think it was day three or four and you were pacing the back halls of that shitty little tavern you like. The Terrible Clam?”

“Pathetic Clam,” you correct. Though saying it out loud you realized how not better that was.

“Right,” he snickered. “Anyway, you were pacing the back halls, running a hole in the damn floor. I remember wandering back there, and you were mumbling to yourself, pulling at your hair and tapping your lips. And I just stood there. Watching you. And I realized, I love this idiot. You looked crazed, but you were trying so damn hard not to walk out and take the cigarette some random guy offered you, and I just felt so fucking proud of you for holding out. You looked beautiful in that moment.”

Turning, you lift your eyes to him, watching as his own gaze was far off. Lost in a memory of a much younger you, going through a smoke withdrawal that would haunt you to this day. “If I remember correctly, later that night you got pissed at me, took a cigarette and threw it at my feet and told me to fucking blacken my lungs.”

Malcolm smirked. “You can get rather annoying when you’re in the throes of one of your dramas. And I more than made up for it later.”

“Only because you felt bad that Hazel’s fucking cat had shredded the shit out of my leg.”

Flopping your head back onto his chest, you settle against him. The setting sun came in from the large windows, drifting across the two of you in amber light. The rich smell of kafe drifted from his kitchens and somewhere, you could hear the familiar sounds of Hazel humming. It was perfect. Absolutely perfect. And sent a lump careening up your throat.

“Malcolm, I’m in over my head,” you choke out, feeling what you knew was on the horizon began to shake through you.

“I know.”

“What am I going to do?”

He held you impossibly tighter. “What we always do in these situations. Survive.”

“I didn’t get the key. The Baron is going to…” he kisses you then. Twisting around, he kisses you, pressing you back into the pillows and pinning you to the bed. Desperately, you reached out for him, tugging him close and feeling the way his hips slot against your own. It was messy, full of teeth and tears you hadn’t realized you had been crying and every inch of you aches with fear and uncertainty and the overwhelming need to just beg him to be in your life again. Beg yourself to let it all happen.

When he pulls away, he cupped your face between his palms. “We are going to get through this,” he whispers. “I’m not letting you do this alone anymore.”

“What does that mean?”

“It means that for tonight, I want you here. I want you in my bed. I want to have dinner with Hazel and I want us to be a family again. And then I want to send her to the the guest room, pin you to the nearest surface, and worship every damn inch of your body because I’ve missed it more than anything else in this world. I’m done with this, Button. I let you go once and I don’t want to do it again.”

Voting closed! Part 26 here

Yes. Yes to all of it.

Gently tell him no. You need to go fix things with the Baron of the Mists.

Tell him there will be plenty of time for that. Both of you need to go deal with the key and the Baron of the Mists.

If you haven't seen, Chapter Two of the Night Market is now out! It is linked below if you're interested. Reblogs and feedback are also love! Also, there is a Paper Lanterns discord now. Click the link below to join.

Patreon || Ko-fi || Demo || Discord

#paper lanterns #if wip #community fun #community if #interactive fiction #hazel albright #malcolm albright #:)

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caffeine-clouds · 1 year

Note

Bit of an oddball, but how about SilvAmy

3 & 7

Would also be remiss if I didn’t do my personal fave Sonknux!

1 & 10

Oooooo, interesting - let's start with Silvamy I like this ship! - In your eyes, are they a "We make each other better" relationship or a "We make each other worse" relationship? I'm not a massive shipper of these two, let me be clear - but I do see it as totally plausible and very, very potentially adorable. I think I'd class them as "We make each other better type of couple" - purely because I consider both of these characters to be the most open about their feelings and emotions. They're both optimists, both expressive, and can be naive and tend to romanticize things. I personally think Amy would appreciate a partner who actually spoke about feelings - any feelings, hers or his - and frankly, that's not the type of dish Sonic is serving - you get me? Silvamy can be very open and as sappy as they want to be with each other - so it's one of those ships where they satisfy each other's needs so I think they could be really good together! It's just a happy sunshine couple, who doesn't love that? I like this ship! - What are some unique/unpopular takes you have surrounding this ship? Again, with this ship specfically? I can't say my opinions are strong on it. However, I guess I'll say (And this goes for ANY ship involving Amy) - I really fucking love and appreciate when first and foremost - writers can achknowledge the fact that Amy has feelings for Sonic. Those feelings have been such a big part of her character over the years so I appreciate when writers don't just cop out and act like those feelings never existed so it's more convenient for their ship to happen. By all means that's *fine*, there's nothing wrong with that - but I have a huge respect for fan writers who can at first achknowledge the elephant in the room and deal with it respectfully. If you're going to achknowledge Sonic and Amy's feelings for each other - I have no time for you demonizing Amy or Sonic. But those that can incorporate a little juicy character beat of Amy learning to let go of her feelings for Sonic before having her focus on the next love interest - in this case Silver - I fucking love that. Huge respect - I want to read that. Now, onto Sonknux - MY BOYSSSS I like this ship! - What made you first begin to ship it? Gotta give credit where credit is due - the fandom, the fanart and the fanfics! The more I looked at this ship, the more it felt Knuxouge with a different colour pallette. Like - a lot of the same dynamics are present in both of the ships - but they are different enough in their own ways. Sonknux is a wholesome fucking bromance ship, and I stan a good bromance. The release of the second movie and Frontiers have only helped to solidify my love of the ship further. They're just- ugh, so GOOD. I like this ship! - Would you be happy to see them actually become canon? Or do you prefer them as a fanon thing? Well - personally I don't actually really want to see any ship become canon in the franchise (aside from Whispangle, I do root for those two) purely because I just don't think it fits the vibe of the series as a whole. However, if SEGA turns around and makes Sonic and Knuckles gay icons in a future game - I'd honestly fucking live for it. I'd be so down for a romance between those two - it's funny, cute, and ALSO has angst potential? Sign me tf up. And the inevitable uproar on Twitter that'll start as a result of video game icon/mascot Sonic the Hedgehog being confirmed gay for his homie Knux? Can't fucking wait, I'll be there with my popcorn. I'd- I'd surprisingly be pretty happy if they became canon lmao.

#silvamy #sonknux #sonic the hedgehog

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elysianslove · 3 years

Text

haikyuu boys that ━━

━━ would absolutely, definitely, 100% get nauseous, dizzy, possibly might faint, while their s/o is in labor. one peak and they’re doubling over the hospital bed, inhaling deeply and exhaling sharply, steeling themselves. some are surprising, some are expected. all are stupid.

iwaizumi hajime; he just cannot. he cannot fathom what is happening. there is no way you’re going through that and surviving. no wonder you’re screaming in pain. of course you’re screaming in pain. he takes one look at what’s going on and just immediately takes a step back, eyebrows raised and hand pressed to his chest like “my god.” he’s an 8/10 though because he is incredibly supportive and those arms are great to grab onto. will not complain for a second (is strangely way too quiet), but he’s worryingly pale. maybe he’s quiet cause if he speaks he’ll throw up.

miya atsumu; he’s this close to screaming. or crying. possibly both. he can’t tell if he’s scared in general or scared for you or if he’s hurting seeing you hurting. in fact, no one can tell. he just looks like he’s watching an alien abduction happen right before his eyes. like a 6/10 because he probably does actually faint. it’s almost as if he’s the one in labor. and he’s the annoying kind of supportive that makes you want to smack him like shut the fuck up i’m pushing a whole child out of me right now. but his reactions are extremely endearing and hilarious to watch back because he most definitely insisted on filming.

akaashi keiji; the silent struggler. really doesn’t wanna make it obvious at all. like he really, really, really doesn’t want you knowing that he’s uncomfortable in any way, but he’s like, sweating from how nauseous he is. a big part of it is hating seeing you in pain; he cringes every time you so much as groan or pant. 7/10 because he’s incredibly supportive but his hands are way too clammy :/ like fr get a grip keiji. again, supportive, but his voice is shaky so it’s like, really ineffective. he cries when he sees his baby and it automatically makes him an 11/10.

sakusa kiyoomi; absolute coward. pussy. it’s not about hygiene, he’s just genuinely mortified. keeps asking you’re okay like,,, what do you think, sir? he keeps looking even though every time he does it doesn’t get any better? question mark? you can see him visibly gulping cause he’s in so much shock. like a 5/10 because he forgets to hold your hand. just stands there. eyes wide and mouth parted like a dumb fish. chokes back on his sobs when he hears his baby’s cries and it’s adorable how he brings his hand up to silence himself so maybe he’s a 7/10.

goshiki tsutomu; please he probably has a panic attack mid labor. definitely screams with you and all the nurses and the doctor are like ???? holds your hand tighter than you’re holding his. apologizes the whole time. the whole time. like the doctor asked him if he wants to see what’s happening, which idk why they would consider that a smart idea, and he just wailed like, “baby i’m so sorry, i’m so sorry, can we just adopt?” a 3/10. he’s so cute but. bring someone else if you don’t want to rip your hair out and his.

kageyama tobio; he absolutely tries to pretend that he’s okay but he just gets really, really quiet once you start delivering and his lips are chapped and his pupils are blown and his face is so pale. he looks like he just got off of a really bad rollercoaster. he’s not even holding your hand you’re just hanging onto an unmoving, lifeless limb. maybe 6/10, cause he could be better in the supportive department but, at least he was quietly panicking. he does have a mini panic attack once his baby is in his arms though. like just starts hyperventilating. it’s okay though! it’s actually kind of cute <3

lev haiba; actually faints. not probably. he actually faints. like all 6′5 of him just drops onto the floor by your bed and you’re like ,,, damn, guess i’m doing this alone then. he wakes up and the first thing he sees is your baby crowning and he just faints again pls. someone has to be there with you, just like to help him to you. he cannot stand straight at all, he’s leaning on the bed the whole time. 5/10 because it genuinely makes you laugh it kind of makes the pain bearable. they have to get a chair in case he just falls back cause he’s just so dizzy pls.

━━ would be so fucking annoying. who the hell let them in this room? why did you agree to this? how are you going to raise a child with them? regrets. so many regrets.

tanaka ryūnosuke; he’s like annoyingly scared. shut up and calm down for a minute i’m trying to birth your child here. swears so much like “holy shit holy shit that’s a big baby.” like pls you’re trying to push it out of you and he has the audacity to say shit like that? treats it like it’s some sort of volleyball match like he cheers whenever the doctor praises you. maybe a 5/10 cause he’s just annoying, but it’s motivating in a way. accepts any insult you throw at him too, like he’s so on board with it. “yes, i’m absolutely a piece of shit— what do you mean you’re not getting anywhere near my dick babe wait.”

bokuto kōtarō; listen :( you don’t want to think he’s annoying but he lowkey is. he’s trying his hardest to make this an easier experience for you but you just need him to be a little quieter. like this hurts bo, calm down please. you want to match his energy but it’s literally physically impossible. he’s an 8/10 though because you doubt it’d have been possible to go through it without him. bokuto’s incredibly ripped too so he lets you hang onto him and he holds you tightly too, like grips your hands and legs so strong that it’s v physically supportive too.

kozume kenma; he’s so. quiet. like say something kozume. say anything. he’s just wincing and cringing. 4/10 cause where’s the emotion. lets you hold his hand, like wow you should be honored. insults you back if you insult him???? like what’s that about???? when he sees his baby he does like, sharply intake a breath or whatever cause he doesn’t want to cry but he’s really struggling not to, which is kind of cute you guess. films the whole thing and does like a peace sign with a very nonchalant face but he has a filter on and the filter scans your face too except you’re like screaming. actually a 3/10.

sugawara kōshi; he’s incredibly supportive yes, but mans will be laughing at you. laughing. at you. probably films you and is like properly giggling and laughing boisterously. is so unfazed by anything and everything he sees. he would so easily be a 10/10 but he becomes a -1/10 just cause he’s an ass. definitely like is breathless and is so mind-blown when he sees his baby. just in awe and in shock that he laughs like, “we made that holy crap.” good to have in the delivery room because he does make the atmosphere easier and more lighthearted, but,,, at what cost? your sanity’s.

suna rintarō; the amount of times you wanted to punch him you cannot count on your ten fingers. makes some sex joke about how you’re so stretched out. you literally want to deck him. films the birthing process and makes you watch the video when you’re not even done delivering the baby? cause he’s insane i guess? justifies it as “this is a reminder of how strong you are,” like shut up with your bullshit. it’s kinda smart tho cause you can pull this on your kid later but still. he’s so fucking annoying. if you hold his hand too hard he’ll be like “it can’t be that bad stop being such a baby,” and the baby is delivered like an hour early out of spite. a 6/10 tho cause somehow you love him and decided to have a baby with him.

ushijima wakatoshi; pt.2 to say fucking something??? he’s mostly quiet cause he doesn’t really know what to say, and cause he’s never seen you in this much pain and it’s kind of shocking him. he’s not scared though, cause it’s like, a natural process of human life and the life cycle and all that stuff, he’s just like. taking time to process it. lets you hold his hand though. also if you wanna like give up halfway through he’s annoyingly angry with you like “no. you can’t just give up halfway. stop being a coward.” like why don’t you give it a try toshi??? a 5/10. could do better.

terushima yuuji; so hyperactive that it’s infuriating. doesn’t even hold your hand, he just stands back and observes and like cheers. literally will jump every time you push, like what the fuck, my love? makes really weird comments like “what does it feel like? does it feel like you’re pooping?” like???? it feels like i’m being torn in half yu :D a 4/10 only cause when you ask if you can slap him he wholeheartedly agrees and the doctor cannot hold their laugh back. also definitely plays like the chika dance and makes the nurses do it with him. probably films a tiktok too. you’re going to kill him after.

oikawa tōru; he’s trying so hard to be supportive and your backbone but he’s just so jittery and nervous. he’s not going to faint or get nauseous, but he literally cannot stay still. he’s so anxious it’s making you anxious. his hands are shaking when they grip yours, but honestly, completely unbiased of course, an 8/10, cause it really is so endearing. like he’s breathlessly and exasperatingly praising you and you can tell he’s near tears just gasping back sobs so ,,, maybe he’s not that annoying. but he is. he is annoying. a little.

━━ would be the best of the best. perfectly supportive. a lovely anchor. not too quiet, not too chatty. is so soft and gentle with you. you fall in love with them all over again.

miya osamu; definitely a 10/10. husband material. he has a cloth that’s just patting away at your sweat. kisses your hand and knuckles. soothingly rubs at your thighs. tells you you’re doing great, that it’ll all be worth it. kisses your forehead. grins at you halfway through when you need that extra motivation. literally all the nurses and the doctor are swooning over him. he’s very nervous deep down but he won’t show it, not for a moment, for your sake. 10/10. can’t stress this enough.

kita shinsuke; another king! so soft with you when you feel like giving up. just speaks to you in hushed tones like, “you’ve come this far, lovely. you can’t back out now. think of all the happy moments we’ll get to share just a few hours from now.” and you’re like “alright i’m sold.” completely unfazed by anything he sees. okay maybe a little fazed but he just kisses your forehead after sneaking a peak and tells you you’re doing wonderfully. 100000/10. imagine him as the father of your children???? like literally who else would you want????

aran ojiro; wow another inarizaki i sense a trend. except atsumu he’s a pussy. cheers you on quietly, holds onto your legs, breathes with you, smooths your hair back, literally just an angel. if you take a small break he just spends it quietly talking with you to get your mind off the pain. his knuckles are just caressing your jaw and cheek softly till you’ve calmed down. 10/10 obviously. he’s just the right amount of loud supportive and quiet supportive. kisses you full on the mouth when he first hears his baby’s cries and can’t stop thanking you. literally wtf he’s so cute.

kuroo tetsurō; he’s actually surprisingly very serious when you’re delivering the baby. he’s cracking jokes and all before to try and get you less nervous but it’s actually because he’s freaking out. he’s mostly quiet, just holding onto your hand as tightly as you’re gripping his. he holds his breath every time you push. keeps whispering i love you and pressing kisses to your temple. a 9/10 cause he’s so quiet it’s a little scary but he cannot hold back his tears when he sees his baby. kisses you all over your face after.

satori tendō; very emotional. like so emotional. he’s teary eyed the whole time, just thanking you even if you hadn’t given birth yet. it makes the nurses cry too cause it’s so lovely to see him get so visibly affected by this. he’s just whispering thank you’s and i promise not to let you down ever and i promise to love you forever and you’re pretty sure he’s speaking to the baby you’re birthing at this point. 9/10 cause he made you cry :( no but really he’s a 10/10. super loving, keeps asking you if you’re okay, if you need water, need to hold his hand, anything. angel, fr.

matsukawa issei; relatively surprising as well because you expected him to be more than just annoying, but he’s just. in awe. he’s so amazed by how much you’re going through, and he just stores it in the back of his brain. literally thanks you for the next 50 years to come. laughs endearingly with you to lighten the mood. 9/10. a point is deducted because he jokingly said that now you’ll be able to take his dick really easily. a nurse choked in shock pls. gets real close after to whisper i love you so that only you can hear. he’s just a dream <3

━━ would not let you move an inch after giving birth. all the work is on them for the next 5 years.

all of them. not a single one is left out in this one. they’re annoying but ,,, they all love very strongly <3

end note; listen idk what this is. i had a vision where iwaizumi could not handle his s/o giving birth and the thought was actually so sweet to me, just the nurses laughing at him and he’s just breathing deeply to try and not throw up and then. this happened. anyways. this helped put me in a better mood so i hope it does/did for anyone else too!

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absolutebl · 2 years

Text

This Week in BL - It’s Getting Messy

April 2022 Wk 3

Being a highly subjective assessment of one tiny corner of the interwebs. Organized by which ones (in each category) I’m enjoying the most. Although I’m liking a lot of them right now.

Ongoing Series - Thai

La Cuisine (GaGa Sat) Ep 7 - Ram taking a photo of Chup being happy because everybody likes his dumplings is the cutest thing ever. Also gnawing-on-knuckles adorable confession scene. I love this show.

Cutie Pie (YouTube Sat) Ep 9 - not a whole lot happened but what did was pretty sexy. More pretty thn sexy, tho. Frankly, I’m a little bored with Lian & Kuea, I’d like to see more of the other couples.

Star in My Mind (Fri YouTube) Ep 3 - it’s dangerous to give Mek a guest appearance, he’s so damn charismatic, we just pay attention to him. (Please don’t ask me why Dao isn’t using phi or P’Fah as direct address with his older brother, I’ve no idea. Speculation: they lived in Germany, so westernized family dynamic or a European parent?) Anygay, add in drunk boys all crushing on and flirting with each other + an epic a jealousy cuddle and suddenly I’m loving this show. It doens’t take much with me, okay?

KinnPorsche (iQIYI Sat) Ep 3 - Finally, I’m starting to jive with this one. I like it when we get to see Porsche as a capable bodyguard, and I prefer it when it’s more serious (and messy gay) and less slapstick. So for me, the 2nd half of this ep was actually good. Great kiss, although it came out of nowhere. Still, I’m warming up to KP. I think it helps that Jeff finally showed up, if only in silhouette.

What Zabb Man! (YouTube Sat) Ep 3 - in classic Star Hunter style this is a delightful hot mess, but in this case emphasis on delightful and hot. Oh it’s also messy af but I’m digging it and digging in.

Meow Ears Up (GaGa Tue) Ep 2 - I am getting very “indulgent daddy” vibes from Mr. DD, and I’m not mad about it. Of course, I know we are in the kitty play arena (yes, it’s an actual kink) but still this daddy is awful fond. It’s great.

Dear Doctor, I'm Coming for Soul (iQIYI Weds) Ep 5 - The slow burn romance in this series is really well done. Not to mention all of the external tension with the doctors in competition and their various cases, it is great. This is a solid little show, a doubt it’ll end happy tho.

Triage (AISplay Mon) Ep 1 - Tin, a doctor, gets stuck in a time loop where he must stop a drunk college kid from dying in order to escape the loop. (I feel like I saw this Kdrama a few years ago and didn’t like it.) I am NOT a fan of time-loop narratives (I think I’m the only person on the planet who actively hates Groundhog Day) but I DO like a strong premise and this cast is killer - so I’m sticking with it (if possible). I don’t see how they will stretch the premise to 10 episode but I’m game to watch them try, and I hope it gets better distribution because I think this has broad appeal and is very well done.

Cupid's Last Wish (YouTube Sun) Ep 4 - I guess I liked the “boy deals with a period” bit, glad they depicted that part of bodyswap, but still I’m not vibing with this show.

Miracle of the Teddy Bear - ON HOLD, waiting for YT distribution

The Tuxedo (GaGa Sat) Ep 8fin - GMMTV: watch us regularly squander glorious chemistry on terrible scripts. The Tuxedo: hold my beer. I’m not gonna bother to review this because it MADE NO SENSE and I refuse to give it any bandwidth, but I really hope we see these boys again in something better and more worthy of them. 3/10 NOT RECOMMENDED

Ongoing Series - Not Thai

Plus and Minus (Taiwan Viki Fri) Ep 3 - gosh it’s just GREAT. How nice to have Taiwan back in the game. Honestly, I love their style. Is “ classy queer” a thing, like the opposite of camp? This is it. Kinda the antidote to SCOY, should you need such a thing. Which I DO.

Fukou-kun wa Kiss Suru Shikanai! AKA Mr Unlucky Has No Choice But to Kiss! (Japan Viki Fri) Ep 1 - honestly it’s JAPAN and they kissed in the first episode? What freaky alt-reality have I entered into? I LIKE it here. But, are they crossbreeding with Taiwan again? *settles back* Let’s just enjoy the ride on this one, I think it’s gonna be ADORABLE. But, never forget, Japan’s attitude is ALWAYS “here, hold my beer.”

The Promise (Vietnam YouTube) Ep 1 - stepbrothers trope, enemies to lovers, high school, reunion romance. Narrative has a “memoir” framework. Sort of Cherry Blossoms After Winter if they were enemies and a grumpy/tsundere pairing. Okay so maybe not CBAW at all. Seems like it could end up being sad, but production values are pretty high for a VBL so I’m gonna watch it.

Gossip

New Thai BL Ai Long Nhai has started filming (based on y-novel of the same name by Nathakorn). Familiar faces include Porsch (Bright in Together With Me), Meen (Tul in LBC2), Yacht (everything), Gun & Pak (Valen & Kaitoon in Love Area) Jom (Jin in Nitman) Nice (Arthur in Second Chance). I’m excited, this is obviously a pulp, but that cast is really GOOD.

Thai BL Ghost Host, Ghost House has also started filming, stars Tod (Peat from Love Area).

KBL Love Class starring Kim Tae Hwan and Han Hyeon Jun, drops May 13th on Bilibili to the Asian market, no word on international distribution.

Idol Romance's KBL The Circumstances Of Pungdeok Villa Room 304 (based on a novel by Blue Code) will star Yoon Seobin & Kim Jiwoong (8 eps, 25min ea). That’s the same couple from Kissable Lips and I think this is Korea first instance of a repeat pair. Interesting. I thought they had great chemistry (although I didn’t like KL) so I’m happy about the casting. Plot: Happy-go-lucky third-generation chaebol kicked out by his father and told to man tf up. Ends up accidentally cohabitating with coworker of his dreams. Or something like that.

Kpop group DKZ’s prior album first week’s sales? 1,482. Latest comeback? 107,965. Why do we care, BL universe? Because the reason for that 100x increase? Most likely Park Jae Chan’s appearance as SongWoo in Semantic Error (and companion promo activities). Apparently he had to convince his company to let him do it. Do you feel drunk with power? I do. (source KPOP Junkee)

In Case You Missed it

First ep of new VBL The Promise (Biển Lặng) dropped out of nowhere. It’s from director Oril ‘Domesticity4all’ Nguyen (My Monster in Law 2, Follow My Sunshine). Stepbrothers trope, high school, reunion romance. This one, I added it into my rotation.

AisPlay has made the Thai BL adaptation of Love Stage!! available on YouTube with ENGSUB!

Sing in Love AKA Koi Kogare Utae (adapted from the manga of the same name) got a trailer. It’s about sexual assault survival and looks dark. I intend to wait and see what those braver than me have to say after it ends. Thus I’m not going to bother trying to track the darn thing down. You’re on your own, let me know how it goes.

Saneha Stories 4 - I’m watching it but it’s not BL, so I’m not covering it in the normal reviews. This is more like a very queer Friend Zone 2. Main character Nicky is an unlikeable hot bisexual (or just gay? whatever) mess. The usual “everyone wants him for no good reason.” And he’s being a chaos asshole about his identity crisis with lots of collateral damage. But hoe boy howdy is it GREAT to see Pulster again. Will SOMEONE please give this beautiful boy the lead in a BL? PLEASE.

Frankly, I think we have all waited long enough. Some of us since My Dear Loser. Thailand, it’s time.

Next Week Looks Like This:

On Tusday KBL Ocean Likes Me premiers on Viki aldo KimCop + Star Hunter’s latest That’s My Candy (also on Viki). My Secret Love (formerly Secret Admirer) was maybe supposed to start this week but I haven’t heard a peep in ages so maybe not.

This week’s best moments?

Yes, thank you KinnPorsche, THIS is what I signed up for with this show. Please.

We stan the confident king.

Hi Mek. I had money on you never doing a BL. I guess all rocks crack under sufficient pressure.

Except, yeah, it actually WAS.

SUCH a manga shot, this one. Look @heretherebedork: the hip-cock!

SCOY is doing it again.

I love them BOTH unreasonably already.

I did a Takumi-kun on GaGa rewatch this week and caught this bit for the first time, pursuant to our gay marriage rep in BL convo... interesting that it’s in one of the very first and most iconic BLs ever, no?

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savoies · 3 years

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rating things my boyfriend has said during sex - nolan patrick.

summary: rating things nolan has told you during sex.

word count: 1k.

warnings: borderline smut, mentions of smut, bad words, mentions of alcohol.(remember protection and consent)

a/n: here it is, thank you to everyone who voted! hope you guys like it.

taglist: (click link or send in ask) @nhlpetey @mitch-slap @frostythegoalman @ryanssuzuki @aria253264 @josty @kaitieskidmore1 @kiedhara @laurenairay @teenagekook @alxvlasic @hockeyallthetime @barzy-baby @bowenbyram @mems06 @joshsandersons @connormcdavo @maattamatthews @pierreslucdubois @selenophileangel @boqvistsbabe @ana-maa @stars-canucks @quinnhughxs @sidscrosbyy

tagging some buds: @npatrickz @beauvibaby @heybarzy @tkachuk-yeah @cozycozzy @2manytabsopen

(*credit to gif owner*)

1. That's my girl.

9/10.

Made me feel good.

Lowkey made me feel like a dog for a sec but we overlooked that.

Nolan had just gotten home from a game, a winning game for that matter. One in which he made the overtime goal in. Meaning only one thing. Rewarding him for his goal. It wasn't a written rule you guys had just something that casually reoccurred over time. Just him coming back from a winning high and one thing always led to another.

Your moans filled the small Philadelphia apartment as Nolan thrusted into you. Both of you quickly about to reach your high.

"Nolan im about to..." You said as kept on riding him.

"Let go baby." He said as he looked at you and the current view in front of him.

You finally reaching your orgasm and letting go as the feeling of your high overtook you.

"That's my girl." Nolan said as both of you laid next to each other both slowly drifting off to sleep.

2. Did you put bread on the grocery list?

3/10.

Ruined the mood.

Did remind me about the bread though.

You and Nolan were very handsy all day. Much preferring to stay in then go out but Travis had invited you over for lunch with him and Karly so instead of taking care of how you were feeling you had to result to waiting which you and Nolan did not much prefer.

~~~~

Quickly getting home and kissing once you got into your living room. Dropping articles of clothing as both of you went to the bedroom.

You kissing Nolan and tugging at his hair as grunts and moans filled your bedroom.

You quickly trying to remove his pants.

"Wait." Nolan said through heavy breaths.

"What." You dragged out kind of getting desperate.

"Did you put bread on the grocery list?" He asked as he stopped kissing you.

"Wait, are you serious? You stopped this for that?" You questioned as you got up and put your shirt on.

"Where are you going?" He asked as you stepped out of the room."

"I'm going to add bread to the grocery list."

"Ok good cause i need my ham and cheese sandwiches." He said as you rolled your eyes at his comment.

3. I swear im gonna marry you one day.

10/10

Filled my stomach in butterflies.

If he keeps on saying it i'm gonna give this man anything and everything.

You and Nolan had just gotten back from your friend's wedding. Both having to wear stuffy outfits and quickly trying to get out of them as fast as possible.

"You know i think it'll be more fun if i take off your dress." He said as he stood across the room and looked at you with a smirk.

"Oh really." You said as you walked over to him. Him quickly but softly pushing you against the bed.

Him teasing you as he removed your dress slowly.

"God, I swear I'm gonna marry you one day." He said as he looked at you admiring you.

Placing a condom on his length as he entered you and you buried your face into his neck.

That day the sex was soft and loving, Nolan picturing what it would be like for you to walk down the aisle to him.

4. Only I get to make you feel this way.

100/10

Woowee.

Made me wet

You and Nolan had just gotten back from celebrating a win with the boys. Them deciding that it was a good idea to go to the bar a few minutes away from the wells fargo center.

You sat on one of the bar stools as you talked to Sophie (Phil's girlfriend) and Nolan and the others stood on the far side of the bar.

When some random dude approached you as she left to go to the bathroom.

"What is a pretty lady like you doing at the bar all alone." He asked with a slight slur to his words.

"What thats the best flirting skill you got up your sleeve?" You asked, letting out a small laugh at his attempt to get in your pants.

Nolan quickly watching the situation go down. He wasn't quite happy that there was a guy making you laugh and that he was so close to you. As soon as the guy placed his calloused hand on your thigh Nolan walked over.

"Come on Y/N we're heading home." He said.

"Aww come on dude let her have some fun."

"My girlfriend doesn't want to have fun with you." He said as he sized up to him and you grabbed his hand and walked out. You knew you were in for it when you got home seeing the way his knuckles turned white as he held down on the steering wheel.

Quickly getting home as he walked into your guys room expecting you to follow.

~~~~~

Quickly and roughly removing your clothes.

As he looked at you and said "only i get to make you feel this way." He said as he lined up at your entrance and thrusted into you. You knew you were definitely going to be sore tomorrow morning.

5. boobies *blows raspberries*

7/10

Kinda odd but fun.

Hey if he's a boob guy he's a boob guy.

Nolan and you had just gotten back from a date. Having had a few drinks and being a bit tipsy. Both being quite funny people after two or three drinks.

Walking hand in hand back to your apartment just enjoying each other's presence.

"Babe can we make out?" Nolan asked as he sat on the couch.

"Sure why not." You said loving the feeling of his warm lips on yours.

Both kissing softly as he worked his way down to nip at your neck. He removed your shirt as his cold skin raised goosebumps on yours.

"Boobies." He said as he blew raspberries into your boobs.

You laughed as he then looked up at you and placed one more kiss on your lips.

"You are so weird you know that."

"Yeah but you love it." And honestly yeah you did. You loved Nolan and your events in the bedroom because it was always different, and fun, and exciting.

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supernovafics · 3 years

Text

𝐀 𝐍𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓 𝐓𝐎 𝐑𝐄𝐌𝐄𝐌𝐁𝐄𝐑

pairing: andy barber x fem!reader

summary: in which the night was supposed to be special. however, it seems as if something is always going wrong. on this specific night, you and andy have convinced yourselves that everything will finally go according to plan, but it isn’t long until things go awry. you’re not ready to call it quits on it just yet, though.

warnings: defending jacob au (no mentions of laurie or jacob), fluff, slight angst, explicit language

word count: 2.3k words

author’s note: first andy imagine! hope you guys enjoy<333

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

“Whatever excuse you’re about to say, save it,” You said when you answered Andy’s call, and it connected to your car’s Bluetooth. “We are going to this restaurant, Barber. We’ve rescheduled so many times that I’m pretty sure at least two of the hostesses know my number by heart at this point.”

Your statement was a thousand percent true, and you were actually surprised that the restaurant hadn’t blocked your number and banned both you and Andy from coming yet because of how much you had called to reschedule. The last time was only three days ago when you and Andy were completely exhausted from the days you had at work and couldn’t bear to do anything more than deliver a pizza to your home and eat it in bed. The number of crumbs that you noticed in the bed in the morning was horrible, but overall it was worth it.

This night was different, though, at least it was supposed to be. That morning before you headed to the environmental law firm you worked at and Andy went to the DA’s office, you said that you would be done earlier than usual because you would only be doing the beginning preparations for a new case you had. Andy told you that he would be done at his office by seven, giving you both enough time to get to your eight o’clock reservation at the restaurant.

When you left your office not even fifteen minutes ago and hadn’t received any calls from Andy, you actually believed that things were finally going to go exactly how you both planned it. But, of course, you could only get but so lucky.

“I’m really sorry, honey,” Andy told you, and you could hear how sincere those words were. “This Jefferson case has been kicking my ass these past couple of days, and I can just tell I’m finally close to a breakthrough with it.”

You didn’t want to smile; you were supposed to feel at least a little bit mad that this dinner was once again on its way to getting canceled. But, you couldn’t muster up even a hint of a frown; instead, you genuinely felt happy for Andy. You didn’t know much about the case, but you did know how much of a pain it had been for him thus far, so you knew that you couldn’t make him stop working on it right then when things were finally about to turn around. Especially because you knew that if the tables were turned, he wouldn’t make you stop, and you wouldn’t want him to.

These heavily work-oriented sides of the both of you were what caused you two to meet in the first place. You were both in the local bar that pretty much all of the lawyers in Boston would frequent, celebrating wins on your recent cases. You chalked it up to the alcohol running through your veins and the pure happiness you were feeling, because that case was such a big win for you, as the reason why you so easily fell for Andy that night. Because you had always sworn to yourself that you would never get romantically involved with another lawyer. But Andy was different.

“How much longer do you need?” You asked him, already thinking of ways that you could rearrange things so that maybe, hopefully, the night wouldn’t be a total flop.

It was quiet on Andy’s end for a moment, and you could tell that he was really thinking about his response. “No more than an hour. I promise.”

You glanced at the time displayed in your car; 7:14 pm. “Okay, I’ll call the restaurant and see if they can push our eight o’clock reservation to nine. And I’m on my way to your office now, so I can make sure that your hour is actually an hour.”

Most of the time, actually all of the time, an hour was never really an hour; it was always, always more. And you knew that for a fact because you were guilty of it too. Your respective workaholic natures were something that you both simultaneously loved and hated about each other.

“I love you,” Andy’s voice was soft and comforting.

Although those three words were pretty much second nature to hear after seven years of knowing Andy and five years of marriage, they never, ever failed to make your heart warm.

“Love you too,” You said and smiled to no one but yourself. “I should be there in twenty.”

• • •

The drive to Andy’s office was shorter than expected, which you were surprised about. However, you were unsurprised to only see Andy’s car in the parking lot when you pulled in; you swore that no one at that office worked harder than he did.

“Hi,” You said as you lightly rapped your knuckles against the open door of Andy’s office to grab his attention. His gaze was solely focused on his computer, and his eyebrows were knit together in a concentrated look that you had always found endearing.

When his blue eyes pulled away from his computer and landed on you, a smile found its way on his face. “Hi.”

You walked over to him, and he stood up from his desk, opening his arms which you wasted no time going into. As you wrapped your arms around Andy, the flooding sense of comfort that you felt made you sigh in contentment. Being in his arms always felt like being home.

“The reservation has been changed to nine,” You said, your words slightly muffled due to the way your face was pressed into his chest, but Andy still heard you.

“I’ll be done soon,” He told you, his voice getting lost in your hair.

When you pulled away from the embrace– it was reluctant at first, but then you remembered that there were actually things that needed to get done– you went to sit at the chair that was on the other side of the desk, shrugging your jacket off and placing it on the back of the chair. You nodded your head at Andy’s previous words, knowing that the definition of “soon” that you two had become accustomed to was different than what most people perceived it as.

As Andy went back to working on the case and you mindlessly watched him, a sudden wave of tiredness washed over you. Although your own day at work hadn’t been too chaotic, it was still pretty exhausting. A small yawn escaped your lips, and your eyes settled on the small-sized couch in the corner.

Your gaze was still trained on the grey couch when you heard the sound of a drawer opening, and when you looked at Andy, you saw that he was holding out a folded-up throw blanket for you to take. You grabbed it, and the familiar forest green color and softness stood out to you; it was the one you would usually keep in you guys’ living room.

“When did you start keeping this here?” You were already letting the blanket unfold and wrapping it around yourself.

“After the last time you came here and slept on the couch, and my suit jacket was horrible at keeping you warm.”

You smiled at the thoughtfulness behind the gesture. “Goddamnit, I love you.”

“And I love you,” Andy smiled back. “Now go take a quick nap, and I’ll wake you up in fifty minutes when I’m done with this, and we can finally make it to the reservation.”

You easily found comfort on the couch as you had done a few times before when you decided to join Andy during his late work nights. The couch was weirdly cozy, and you never knew if it was because of how tired you were that made it feel so nice or if it genuinely felt that way. Unsurprisingly, it didn’t take long for you to drift off to sleep.

• • •

“Hey,” A soft voice slowly pulled you from the unconscious state you were in. “Honey, wake up.”

You mumbled a slight protest, pulling the blanket draped over you higher so that it shielded your face. Then, you remembered where you were.

You pulled the blanket back down, and when you opened your eyes, you saw Andy’s face; he was kneeling down next to you.

“What time is it?”

He evaded the question and instead said, “I’m sorry.”

“Andy,” You sighed as you sat up from the couch. You felt around for your phone and grabbed it, almost immediately checking the time; 10:03 pm. “Andy.”

“I fucked up,” His voice was quiet, and you pulled your eyes away from your phone and looked at him.

“What happened?” You asked as you tried to rub the remaining sleepiness out of your eyes. Even though you had apparently taken an almost two-hour nap, you still felt extremely tired.

“It was eight, and I wasn’t finished with what I needed for the case, but at that point, I didn’t even care and just wanted to go to dinner with you,” Andy took a seat down next to you on the small couch as he began to launch into his explanation. You watched him with intent eyes. “But, then I saw you sleeping, and you looked so peaceful and tired, and I didn’t wanna wake you. So, I kept working, and I was gonna wake you by eight-thirty, but the time got away from me, and the next thing I knew, it was nine.”

You didn’t say anything in response at first. Instead, you leaned back against the couch, closing your eyes and once again pulling the blanket over your head because there was nothing else you really wanted to do.

“I’m sorry. I know that you really wanted to go to the restaurant tonight.”

You finally decided to say something. “It’s okay.”

You felt the blanket shift, and you opened your eyes to see Andy coming underneath it and pulling some over him– luckily, it was long enough– so that the two of you were cocooned inside of it. “It’s not. You deserve to be mad.”

You considered his words and knew he was right, but you weren’t mad. Honestly, if you were a thousand percent truthful with yourself, you didn’t give a fuck about the dinner and the restaurant. More so, you cared about what it represented, or at least what your mind had warped it into representing.

It had been so long since you and Andy had spent a night together that was solely romantic and didn’t involve the two of you lounging about in your home eating takeout or being completely exhausted from work. You had desperately wanted something that resembled how it used to be between you two before things became so domesticated. For reasons you couldn’t decipher, you wanted a glimpse back into the beginning, almost honeymoon-like, stages of your relationship with him. And it seemed as if it was something that was entirely out of reach at this point.

“But, the night’s not a complete bust.” Andy’s words pulled you out of your scattered thoughts. However, they did nothing but confuse you.

Before you could ask him what he meant by his statement, he pulled off the blanket that was draped over you both, and it was then that you noticed the set up of Chinese food takeout on Andy’s desk. The food was plated nicely on disposable plates that you were sure were from the office’s break room, and there was even a lit candle in the middle of the desk. You noticed that the candle was the one you had gotten Andy for Christmas with the sole purpose of him having it in his office; apparently, the scent was supposed to be very calming.

Looking at the setup made you finally fully realize that the restaurant and dinner did not matter. In fact, this was far better than being in a fancy restaurant surrounded by other people and trying new food that you probably wouldn’t like anyway. This was much more romantic, and you loved every aspect of it.

It made you feel slightly frustrated at yourself that you had been making such a big deal out of it all in the first place. It wasn’t the restaurant that would make you feel reminded of the early aspects of your relationship. It was simply being with Andy that would, and always did, make you feel that way and more.

You did not know why you were on the verge of tears, but you did know that they were nothing but joyous. You looked over at Andy and noticed that he was staring at you so that he could gauge your reaction to everything. You smiled at him and wrapped your arms around his neck. “This is great. So great. Fuck, I can barely even form words right now.”

A breath of a laugh fell from your lips, and when you pulled back from the embrace, you placed a kiss on his cheek, his beard grazing your chin in a way that you had always loved.

“I’m glad and relieved,” Andy said as the two of you made your way over to his desk. “It’s definitely not high-end restaurant quality, but it is from our favorite place on Bleeker Street.”

You settled in your chair, your mouth watering at the food in front of you. You hadn’t realized how hungry you were until then. “Maybe we’re not meant to go to fancy restaurants anymore. We’re just takeout people now. And I think I’m okay with that.”

Andy’s lips upturned in a small smile. “Me too.”

“Now tell me everything about this godforsaken case,” You said and then took a bite from your egg roll. You always enjoyed hearing about his cases; it was a contrast from the work that you did that you always found refreshing, although most of the cases were more bleak if anything.

As Andy launched into an in-depth telling about what the case was about and the issues arising with it, you looked at him adoringly and listened intently as you both ate your food.

There was no grand dinner, but everything was still romantic, actually even more so. To you and him both, it was still a night to remember.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

let me know your thoughts<3

#andy barber imagine #andy barber x reader #andy barber x female reader #andy barber x fem!reader #andy barber x y/n #andy barber x oc #andy barber x wife reader #andy barber fluff #andy barber angst

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joonie-beanie · 4 years

Text

Helping Hands

Pairing: Barbatos x Reader

Word Count: 5,526

Preview: The royal butler decides to pay you a visit when he hears that your back is acting up.

However, when he offers to give you a massage, things get a little out of hand.

** Please note that this is a cross-posting **

This chapter is also being posted on 7/10/2020 as a part of my “Devil Doms” series on AO3.

Obviously, you’re not as close to the residents of the Demon King’s Palace, or the other exchange students, as you are with the demon brothers. That’s to be expected, considering you literally live with the seven demons, and are pretty much around them at all times.

However, your relationships with the others are far from distant.

In fact, for the last two months, Diavolo and Barbatos have been inviting you over for tea every Sunday evening.

At first, you’d found it a bit strange to partake in a tea party so late in the day, and on a Sunday no less, but you’ve grown quite fond of your quiet evenings with the Devildom Prince and his faithful butler. Usually conversation is pleasant. Diavolo loves to ask you about your experiences in the human world, and never gets enough of your stories—even if it’s just you retelling simple parts of your day.

It has also been a good opportunity to get to know Diavolo and Barbatos more. Diavolo is very forthcoming with any information you’d like to know, but still tends to have this…front about him. Like he’s willing to let you in, but just not too deep. After all, he is the ruler of the Devildom, so you don’t blame him for keeping certain things to himself.

Barbatos…also feels like a puzzle, but a puzzle that with time, he will gladly let you put together. In the past month, you’ve managed to learn an array of information about him—his favorite foods, what he likes to drink, what he does when he’s not tending to Diavolo, etc.

Apparently, he enjoys baking, reading, and taking long, hot baths. He’s always formal out of habit, but ever so slowly has begun to shed such formality with you—making little remarks that would have seemed out of character in the past, but are becoming much more frequent nowadays.

In fact, last week when you’d showed up exhausted, he’d quipped about whether you were having any “late nights” with the brothers. The twinkle in his eye had confirmed that yes, he was implying it in a sexual manner, and Diavolo’s full belly laugh when he’d seen the shock and embarrassment on your face had echoed throughout the entire castle.

So, least to say, you and Barbatos are starting to get along quite well.

Unfortunately…you’re not sure that you’ll be able to make your weekly tea tonight—on account of the fact that you can barely walk.

Hand pressed against your lower back, you openly groan in pain as you press to your feet. You need to get to your DDD to let the two know of your predicament, but of course you’d managed to leave your phone on the other side of the room.

With your body curved at a horribly awkward angle, you stagger your way across the wooden floor. You think the source of your problem is a kink in your neck, that is throwing your entire body out of alignment, but you can’t say for sure considering everything hurts.

Sighing, you unlock your DDD and open up the messaging app. You click into your chat with the royals.

You: Hi there. I’m not sure I’ll be able to make it tonight. I’m not feeling too well…

It only takes a few seconds before Diavolo responds.

Diavolo: I was actually just about to text you. Something quite urgent came up, so I’m unavailable this evening.

Diavolo: Also, I’m so sorry to hear you’re not feeling well! Please, be sure to get rest and take care of yourself!

Smiling at his kind words, you respond with your gratitude. A moment later, you see ellipses pop up at the bottom of the chat, but they soon disappear. No message comes through, and you frown a little. However, after another few seconds, you receive a new notification.

A text from Barbatos, but outside of the group chat the two of you share with Diavolo.

Barbatos: May I ask what’s the matter? I was intending to still invite you over for tea since I enjoy your company regardless.

Barbatos: If you’re ill, however, I’d like to know if there’s anything I can do to help.

You’d be lying if you said a small part of you didn’t swoon at his concern, and the declaration of the fact that he enjoys having you around.

You: I have a kink in my back, and it’s honestly affecting my ability to do…anything, at the moment. I would have loved to have tea with you, though.

Barbatos responds right away.

Barbatos: If it’s alright with you, I’d be more than happy to bring the tea to you instead. Lord Diavolo has already departed for the evening, and I have nothing else to do.

Barbatos: Plus, I’ve heard that I’m a pretty skilled masseuse, as well. I may be able to assist with your current ailment.

Your heart flutters a bit at the idea of letting Barbatos massage you, since you’ve yet to be physical with the butler beyond hugs, but you can’t deny how appealing a massage sounds right about now. Your muscles are oh so sore, and at this point, you should be accepting any type of help you can get.

You: I don’t want to impose, but that sounds wonderful…

Barbatos: Think nothing of it. I will be over shortly. Do not feel the need to come and greet me, I shall ask Lucifer to guide me to your room.

You text back your confirmation before stumbling back to your bed—rolling onto the messy sheets with a pained hiss as you wait for Barbatos to arrive.

Only 20 or so minutes later, you hear the sound of knuckles wrapping against your bedroom door.

“Y/N?” It’s Lucifer’s voice. “Barbatos is here to see you.”

“Come in,” you call, knowing full well that you probably look a mess—laying belly down on your mattress with one leg hiked high, and one arm hanging low. It’s the comfiest position you could find, though.

Lucifer turns the knob and steps into the room first, a frown tugging at his lips when he notes how you’re positioned on your bed. Barbatos follows him in, worry in his eyes as well, but he still manages to smile.

“My, you weren’t kidding when you mentioned having a kink in your back.”

“I think death is approaching,” you respond, overly dramatic, and your words have both Barbatos and Lucifer chuckling.

“I shall leave you two to enjoy your tea. Please contact me if you need anything.”

“Thank you, Lucifer.”

With that, the Avatar of Pride makes his way from your room—closing the door behind him. Now, it’s just you and Barbatos.

“I think the tea may have to wait,” he comments, moving to set the basket he’d brought with him on the table at the far side of your room. You note that it’s woven wood—practically a picnic basket, and smile a little. How cute.

Forgetting about your pain for a moment, you watch as the butler opens the basket up and reaches inside. You expect him to produce some tea cups, or saucers, but instead he pulls out what looks to be a bottle of oil.

Realization strikes you, and your cheeks begin to heat up.

“You know, Barbatos, you really don’t need to give me a massage…,” you tell him quietly, mumbling the words as you watch him begin to roll up his sleeves. He’s dressed more casually than usual—his overcoat and tie nowhere to be found. Instead, he’s simply donning his green button up shirt, and a pair of black slacks.

It’s…a good look on him. Especially with the sleeves folded neatly up to his elbows. And when he slowly plucks off his white gloves, revealing fingernails painted the same color as the highlights in his hair, you feel your heart skip a beat.

“It’s clear that you’re in desperate need of one, and I already reassured you that you’re not imposing,” he tells you, making his way to your side with the bottle of oil in his hands. Per usual, there’s a pleasant smile on his face as he surveys you.

You hope that you’re not blushing brightly enough for him to notice.

“It’s just that…I’ve never had a massage before, so…,” you trail off, and it’s not a lie. Massages have always seemed like a luxury to you, so you’ve never gone out of your way to get one, despite how much you’ve heard about their wonders.

“Ah,” Barbatos hums, a look of understanding in his eyes. “Well, we can always stop if it has an adverse effect on the situation. And I of course want you to feel comfortable.”

His words put your mind at ease. He’s always so kind, no matter who he’s talking to, or who is watching.

“So…how do we…start?” you ask, feeling far too awkward. You already have a suspicion that you know what he’s going to say, and yet—

“Are you mobile enough to take your shirt off?”

Ah, yep, there it is.

If there was any hope of hiding your blush before, there’s certainly none now. And yes, you’re aware that Barbatos is only offering to do this because you’re friends, and because you’re in pain. There should be no reason to be embarrassed by the situation, and yet you are.

You take a second to try and calm your mind.

“I…I think I can--,” you eventually say, attempting to sit up. However, as soon as you place your palms on the mattress and try to push yourself up, a bolt of pain shoots straight down your spine, and a high-pitched cry falls from your lips.

Barbatos’ hand is immediately on your back—a gesture of comfort. The warmth from his palm soaks through your t-shirt, and a small part of you wishes that he’d make a point of touching you more often.

“Well, I will take that as a resounding no.”

There’s a perplexed frown on his face as he looks at you—his worry deepening by the second.

“Can you lift your arms, at the very least?”

You grunt, miraculously managing to lift both of your arms above your head. Barbatos breathes a laugh, the position a little amusing. You’re beginning to look like a horrible contortionist.

“Would you be opposed to me undressing you?” Your brain short circuits for a moment. “Since you were able to lift your arms, it’s likely the easiest option at this point.”

“Sure,” you respond without hesitation. You’re desperately trying to keep your wits about you, and yet, you can’t help the way your body jolts when you feel Barbatos’ fingers grip the hem of your shirt.

He pauses for a moment.

“Did I startle you?”

“No…,” you grumble, causing him to laugh. He drags his hands upwards—the t-shirt slowly peeling up your back. When he gets near your breasts, you manage to inch your body off the mattress so it doesn’t get…well, caught.

Of course, as Barbatos pulls the fabric past your chest, you also realize that you hadn’t bothered to put on a bra today—entirely due to the fact that 1. Your body was too stiff to attempt even putting one on, and 2. Bras suck.

So now here you are—Barbatos finally ridding you of your shirt—which means you’re entirely bare from the waist up. Oh, and the only thing saving you from being completely naked in front of the royal butler is the pair of shorts you’re wearing, which suddenly feel far too short, and far too tight for comfort.

“Are you alright?” he questions. His hand settles between your shoulder blades, and you feel goosebumps rise on your flesh. You’re so used to the sensation of his soft gloves, that the skin on skin contact is making you react in ways you hadn’t expected…

“I’m okay,” you respond, nodding a little. You move your arms so they’re folded beneath your cheek, and you carefully turn your head—facing yourself away from Barbatos. The last thing you want is him seeing how red you’ve become.

“If so, then I’ll begin,” he says. You hear him pop open the cap on the bottle, and you take a quiet breath—trying to prepare yourself. “If you ever feel uncomfortable, please let me know.”

“Will do, Barb.”

You mumble the words without thinking, and it takes your brain a second to realize what you’ve said.

“I-I mean--,” your words cut off, breath hitching as Barbatos grips your sides. He moves his hands gently against your back, spreading the oil on his palms across your soft skin.

“Barb?” he echoes, chuckling to himself. “That’s a first.”

“I--,” you shiver as he continues rubbing his hands up and down your spine. Apparently, you’re much more sensitive to touch than you’d realized. Just great. “—just…I mean. Slip of the tongue?”

“You may call me “Barb” if you so wish,” he responds, and you can hear the amusement lining his tone. The demon drags his hands back up to your shoulders, his thumbs kneading at the tense muscles near your neck, and whine leaves your lips.

“Good or bad?” he questions, and as another shiver rakes up your spine, you realize just how fucked you are. Your body, of course, aches beneath the surface, but your skin is just so sensitive. It takes all of your willpower to keep from writhing against the sheets as he continues his ministrations—rubbing circles between your shoulder blades.

“Um…a little of both?”

He hums considerately at your comment, his eyes surveying you closely. Even as you attempt to stifle the instinctive reactions of your body, there’s a subtle twitch of your muscles—a small intake of breath, or a flex of your toes.

When he reaches your mid-back—his fingers curling around your sides as he presses his thumbs into the muscles near your spine—he hears you gasp. Your body stiffens, fingers digging into the sheets near your head. Barbatos debates stopping, but…he gets the feeling that you’re not in pain.

As the thought occurs to him, a little bit of heat rise to his face. Until now, he hadn’t thought twice about your current position, or the fact that he’s touching you so intimately, but…

Barbatos swallows, yet his hands continue on their journey down the length of your back. He works slowly, doing his best to thoroughly rub every inch of skin—hoping to soothe the tight muscles that lay beneath. Perhaps if he focuses on the task at hand, he’ll forget about the little whines that spill from your lips, or the way your body shivers beneath his fingers.

As Barbatos faces his own dilemma, you find yourself rapidly descending into insanity. Each second that ticks by with the demon butler’s hands roaming your body has tendrils of heat snaking through your limbs. As much as you attempt to ignore the way his touches are making you feel, it’s nearly impossible.

Quicker than you had expected, you feel arousal beginning to pool between your legs. You’d hadn’t intended to get turned on by the massage, but here you are—desperately trying to smother the array of embarrassing sounds that have built in your chest.

However, the instant Barbatos’ hands move to your lower back—thumbs pressing into the muscles near your spine—your lips part.

“Fuck,” you moan, your body curving into the mattress. Your toes curl, knees bending as your calves lift from the sheets.

Barbatos’ hands still. You go stiff, all of the blood in your body rushing to your face.

“I…Barbatos, I am so sorry, I—”

“I’ve never witnessed anyone react to a massage so…vocally,” he says, picking his words carefully. His fingers coast up your sides, once against making you shiver, and you bite your lip to keep from gasping when you feel his hair tickle your cheek.

“Would you prefer if I stopped now?” The words are whispered into your ear. You can feel his hot breath on your skin—the curl of his fingers around your ribcage as he holds you—and your heartbeat quickens.

“I…I don’t want you to stop,” you respond honestly, voice quiet. “But I’m not sure I can stop myself either…”

“I never could have imagined that you would be so affected by a simple massage,” he chuckles, his fingers giving you a little squeeze as he leans back, retaking his standing position beside you. You release a breath you hadn’t realized you’d been holding.

“I didn’t realize I would be either…I don’t blame you if you want to stop.”

“As long as you’re alright, I would like to keep going,” he informs you, his palms coasting down either side of your spine until his grip is once again settled near the sensitive spot on your tailbone. You keen as his hands cup either side of your ass, thumbs working into the tense muscles at the center of your back.

“Hah…,” your fingers once again grip the sheets. Now that Barbatos has addressed your reactions to his touches, you feel a bit more playful. “Are you actually enjoying my reactions?”

He chuckles. “Would it be inappropriate if I said yes?”

The gears in your head grind to a halt. Your tongue pokes out to wet your lips. That’s not what you had expected.

“…Really?”

“Perhaps it is a bit disgraceful for me to admit, but…,” his movements still, his fingers flexing and giving your ass the lightest of squeezes. “…I would very much enjoy it if we could continue.”

You’re surprised to hear such words from him, but you’d be lying if you said they didn’t excite you.

You nod your consent. “Go ahead.”

Barbatos reaches for the bottle of oil at his feet, pouring a little more into his hands. You jolt when his palms encase one of your thighs—his touch dragging down your leg until he gets to your ankle. He then repeats the action on your other leg, a smile tugging at his lips as he notes your body’s instinctual response to his touches.

However, he doesn’t make comment. Instead, he focuses on working at the muscles in your thighs—his thumbs carving a path down the center of the supple flesh. As he does so, you become acutely aware of how close his fingers are to your clothed womanhood.

The realization causes more wetness to pool between your legs, and you bite your lip, wondering exactly how much longer you’ll be able to withstand the massage before you finally crack.

You want to say that your current affliction is entirely your fault—that it’s solely a product of your oversensitive body’s reaction to the massage—but you know it’s not. Barbatos is obviously getting something out of this situation as well, and that something definitely bridges beyond the pride of being a good masseuse.

Your toes curl as he works at the muscles in your calves—a sigh heavy with need passing through your parted lips.

You want him to touch you more. Where you’re aching to be touched.

“Barb--,” you start, mentally preparing yourself for the embarrassing question you’re about to ask, but you never get there. Barbatos presses his fingers into the back of your knee, and a moan tears from your throat.

The butler pauses, his gaze turning to your face. Until now, you’ve spent the massage facing away from him, but when he glances up, he finds that you’re returning his stare. Your entire face is red, bottom lip tugged between your teeth as a clear sign of your embarrassment. However, he can tell by the look in your eyes—your pupils blown wide—that you’re aroused.

His heart thumps painfully against his ribs.

“Barb, I--,” you don’t know what to say, entirely out of sorts. You’re ashamed, and horny, and a part of you wants to run away, but another part wants him to continue forever.

“Y/N,” he drags you out of your inner turmoil by speaking your name. One of his hands reaches forward, cupping your cheek. He leans in, your faces mere inches apart, and you finally notice the blush on his cheeks. It’s subtle, but there.

His gaze falls to your lips.

“May I kiss you?”

“Yes,” you breathe immediately, and he closes the gap without second thought.

The kiss is tender—a little hesitant, but full of need, and not just from you. Sighing pleasantly, you mold your lips with his once more, and then again, but before you can turn the kisses into a full out make out session, you feel Barbatos’ palm on your ass.

His hand moves downward, sneaking between your snug thighs. When he presses his digits against your clothed sex, you can’t help the lewd gasp that leaves you. Your hips instinctively grind against him, seeking more friction, and you feel him smile.

“Shall I stop?” he whispers.

“No, don’t,” you shake your head, and Barbatos leans in, pressing a soft kiss to your cheek. He’s pleased to hear those words.

Sitting back, Barbatos surveys you—watching you closely as he drags two of his fingers down the seam of your shorts. He hadn’t noticed before, but your arousal is already soaked into the dark fabric—a clear sign that you’d been enjoying his touches up until now.

When he finds that special bundle of nerves, drawing out another quiet cry falling from your lips, he chuckles. You bury your head in your folded arms, hips rocking back against his fingers.

“Ah, shit,” you breathe, unable to help yourself. You’re already so stupidly pent up from the massage—even him touching you through your shorts feels delicious. And Barbatos can’t help but get hard at the sight of you—your almost naked body curving against the mattress as you lift your hips and rock your pussy back and forth on his digits.

Reaching his free hand down, the demon butler gently squeezes your ass, relishing the little moan it draws from you. He helplessly craves to hear more of your sounds.

His fingers leave your clit, but before you can think to whine at the lost, you feel his digits curl around the crotch of your shorts. You freeze, heart hammering against your ribs, but don’t indicate for him to stop. While you’re nervous, you want this.

And Barbatos makes note of your reaction, giving you a few ample seconds to express any discontent. However, you do not, and so the butler tugs your shorts to the side, revealing your womanhood. You bite your lip, wriggling as his other hand slips beneath your shorts—once again taking hold of your ass without the fabric barrier.

As he holds you steady, two of his digits once more slide between your slick folds, gathering your arousal. You expect him to go back to rubbing your clit, but instead he curls his fingers into your pussy, and a gasp falls from your lips.

“Oh, fuck, Barb.” You groan. Your fingers take hold of the bed sheets, lip tugging between your teeth as you feel him experimentally pump his fingers in and out of you—stretching out your wet walls.

He moves slowly—testing the waters, and you clench around him—enjoying the girth of his fingers. Barbatos can’t take his eyes off of you.

“Is this alright?” he questions, curling his digits. The action has you moaning, and you nod your head.

“More, please.”

Barbatos breathes out through his nose at that, a little amused at the sound of your need.

Kneeling against the edge of the mattress to get a better angle, Barbatos begins picking up his pace. His fingers curl against your walls, and he smiles when he finds your sensitive spot—a surprised gasp escaping you. Immediately your stomach is curving into the mattress—hips pressing back as you attempt to take him deeper.

Barbatos gives your ass a squeeze, eyes sparkling. He debates asking if you’re feeling good, but he already knows the answer.

With his finger still fucking into you—your hips now rocking back ever so slightly to meet him—Barbatos moves his other hand between your legs. His thumb rests against your clit, drawing languid circles, and your breath catches.

“Fuck,” you bite the word out, muscles tensing. The demon butler feels your pussy clench around his fingers—orgasm quickly rising to the surface.

“Barb, please,” you whine, tugging at the sheets. Your heart is racing, breathless pants falling from your lips. Always one to please, Barbatos is more than happy to oblige. He presses against your clit harder, rubbing quicker, and in less than a minute, you’re coming undone for him.

Moan slipping past your lips, you tumble into your orgasm. Your pussy contracts around his still moving fingers, waves of pleasure rolling throughout your body. The butler doesn’t pull his digits from inside of you until he sees your body go slack against the sheets.

“You’re certainly one hell of a masseuse,” you mumble once you’ve regained your bearings, causing him to chuckle.

“I can assure you most of my clients don’t end up with my fingers inside of them.”

“No?” you question, a playful post-orgasm glow on your face as you turn to look at him. He smiles fondly at the sight of your pleasantly flushed cheeks.

“No,” he reassures, eyes creasing as he seats himself on the mattress beside you. For a moment, the two of you simply stare at each other, a sense of peace settling over the two of you. Then, your gaze falls to his lap. The tent against his slacks is quite obvious.

Noting where your eyes have strayed, Barbatos has the humility to blush.

“I apologize for my…reaction,” he quickly excuses himself, glancing away. “I assure you I didn’t intend to take advantage of you.”

Instead of responding, you press onto your hands and knees and turn to face him. With your face dangerously close to his crotch, you bat your eyelashes up at him innocently.

“If you don’t mind, I’d be perfectly alright with helping you in return, Barbatos.”

The butler looks shocked at the offer, but after a few seconds, he lifts a hand and gently cards it through your hair—a soft look of hunger in his eyes.

“Only if you wish.”

Smiling, you immediately prop onto your elbows—knees folding on the bed beneath you—and reach out to fiddle with his pants. Within seconds, you’ve managed to free his length. Your hand immediately wraps around the base of his shaft, and Barbatos closes his eyes at the sensation, taking a deep breath.

You smile at his pleased reaction, your mouth moving to press a kiss against his slit before you stick out your tongue and roll it around the head of his cock. And when you take him into your mouth—your hand still fisted around the lower half of his length, stroking languidly—his breath catches. The fingers in your hair grip a bit tighter.

You giggle around his cock.

“Good?” you question, pulling off. Your hand moves in bolder strokes against him, making up for the absence of your mouth as you turn to stare up at the demon. There’s a blush dusting his cheeks.

“I believe you’re asking a question you already know the answer to,” he responds, tongue darting out to wet his lips. You smile cheekily at his words, fingers tightening ever-so-slightly around his length. You see his jaw clench.

“Good.”

Turning, you once more take the tip of his cock between your lips. You focus yourself on pleasing Barbatos—alternating between trailing your tongue against him, and sucking him into your mouth. The combination of your hand pumping his shaft, and your mouth concentrating on his head is quite honestly devastating, and within minutes the demon butler finds himself nearing his release.

“Y/N,” he warns, his voice slightly strained. He gives your roots a little tug, and you release him from your mouth with an audible pop. You’re seriously going to drive him crazy.

“Yes?” you question, your hand continuing to stroke him. You feel his cock jump in your grip.

“Stay like this,” he says, keeping his hold on your hair. You take that as a sign to get him off with just your hand, and you don’t complain. If that’s his preference, then you’re more than happy to go with it.

Aware of his impending orgasm, you simply continue your ministrations—your fist pumping his shaft until he finally reaches his breaking point. With a shaky breath, Barbatos spills his seed into your hand. His chest rises and falls quickly as you pump him through his orgasm without missing a beat.

You only stop when he’s milked dry—his length beginning to go soft in your grasp.

“Is that fair payment for the massage?” you ask, looking up at him with a smile. He loosens his grip on your hair—his hand moving to cup your cheek as he stares at you. You can see the post-orgasm satisfaction swimming in his green eyes.

“No payment was required,” he tells you honestly. “But yes, that was very much enjoyable.”

A warm feeling of contentment settling in your chest, you move to sit up, but pause when you realize that you’re still topless. Eyes going wide, you cross your arms over your chest, face heating up, and Barbatos chuckles.

“After all we’ve experienced together tonight, you’re suddenly coy about me seeing your breasts?”

“You hush,” you tell him, swinging your legs off the side of the bed. You reach down to fetch your discarded t-shirt, and when you stand straight, an arm wraps around your waist from behind.

“You’re covered in oil, so I would suggest showering,” Barbatos tells you, pressing a soft kiss to your hair. The contact is only for a brief moment—his touch disappearing as he separates himself, taking a step back—and yet your heart flutters. “I’ll prepare the tea while you clean up.”

“Okay…,” you agree, glancing over your shoulder at him. He’s smiling pleasantly, looking far too put together for someone that just came a minute before. There’s not a hair out of place on his head—or even a stain on his trousers.

How unfair.

Turning, you head into your bathroom to rinse off, and Barbatos immediately busies himself with readying your beverages for the evening.

By the time you return from your shower—t-shirt back in place, and a towel atop your damp hair, the room is set up for a tea party. Barbatos is seated on one side of the table, casually surveying a book that you’d left on your desk. One you’d borrowed from Satan.

“I hope you don’t mind me taking up so much of your evening,” he says when he spots you, setting down the reading material.

“Not at all,” you say, moving to join him. Despite the newly shared intimacy between the two of you, the atmosphere feels comfortable, and you’re grateful for that.

Standing, Barbatos pours you both a cup of tea, and things fall into place as usual. You spend a long while chatting—catching up on events of the previous week, and talking about whatever topics cross your mind. By the time the snacks are gone, and the tea has gone cold, it’s quite late.

“I apologize for staying until such an hour,” he says as you help him clean the table. The screen of your DDD indicates that it’s already past 11. You shake your head.

“Seriously, Barb, it’s no big deal. I lost track of time too.”

He can’t help but chuckle at your nickname for him. It’s a nickname that will be solely reserved for you to say.

“Still, it is a school night. I’d best not stay any longer, or I fear Lucifer will have my head.”

“Well, I can’t exactly disagree with that,” you respond with a laugh, holding your arms in front of you. Your eyes trail on him as he finishes packing the basket he’d arrived with. He then picks it up, and starts for your door. You quietly follow after him.

“I’ll see you tomorrow?” you ask, although you already know you will. Of course you will—Barbatos is always at RAD during the week.

Nonetheless, the demon butler smiles at you.

“Yes, I look forward to seeing you.”

With that, he grasps the doorknob and pulls your door open. However, he makes it only one step into the hall before he pauses, turning back to face you.

“Oh, and Y/N?”

You blink. “Hmm?”

“If you’d ever like another massage, please don’t hesitate to let me know. It seems to have worked wonders for you.”

A playful grin pulls at his lips, and he’s gone before you are able to fully digest his words. It takes you a good few seconds to realize what he means—your eyes looking down at yourself, and registering that you’re standing and walking without a sliver of pain.

“Ah!” you say, shocked, and you swear you hear him laugh from up the hall.

#om!#obey me #barbatos #barbatos fic #barbatos smut #om! smut #obey me smut #obey me fic #om! fic

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letters-from-eros · 4 years

Note

I know you don't have rules for that already but can I ask for relationship hc's for Chuuya and Dazai with a fem or gender neutral s/o?😳❤

A/N: Am I foaming from the mouth for my first BSD request? Maybe. I hope this is good though. I added in a short part on how they asked you out cause I wanted this to be different and unique from most dating HCs.

Pairing(s): Dazai Osamu, Chuuya Nakahara x GN!Reader

Warnings: Slight mention of suicide in Dazai's, cursing

Form: Headcanon

Also: These ran super duper long I'm so sorry

You managed to cuff the suicidal maniac, huh?

Well done, my friend, well done

It took him so long to ask you out, and even when he did it wasn't planned. In all honesty, he never planned to tell you about his feelings. The excruciating part for him is that he did fall pretty fast, and realized he was falling even faster.

He didn't deny them, that wouldn't make it go away. He knew that. He sat and let it festered, hoping it would just disappear at some point.

Had the mindset of anything he loved he'd lose, y'know? Sad but so.

The way I'd imagine it happening is that you both are either working late at the ADA (with just the two of you there) or just at his place hanging out into all hours of the night.

Both of you are laughing at some dumb joke Dazai made and as the laughter dies out he feels.. Bittersweet. You make him feel genuinely happy, like there's no need to put on any mask or facade. That was not a feeling he had with anyone else.

Once silence fully overtakes you both it slips out of his mouth, purely on accident.

"I love you"

"More than suicide?"

"Y/n I'm serious!"

From that night forward you had the pleasure of being the partner of Dazai Osamu, with his feelings being released in an extremely cliche coming-of-age-movie way.

Okay, onto actually dating Dazai

Still goofy as all hell. Honestly the only thing that has really changed is the he lets you in a lot less hesitantly on small things. Its easier to put cracks in his walls, per se

Unbothered by PDA and will probably make out with you in public and not see why that isn't a thing that should be done or why you wouldn't like it.

(Just tell him if you don't, he'll get over it eventually)

Will kiss you everywhere, doesn't exactly have a favorite place, but where he does end up kissing you the most is your forehead for convenience. He'll kiss your wrist if he's holding your hand, too.

Clingy as all hell, always wants to be touching you in some way and becomes the biggest dramatic bitch when he can't be around you.

Kunikida will actually punt him if he says he'll die if he's away from you for another second. For the tenth time

No more suicide attempts once you two are dating, and doesn't ask for a double suicide with you because he knows it'll upset you quite a bit

He flirts with you like he's trying to get you to date him lmao he will never ease up, especially if it gets you bashful.

Dazai would NOT be dating you if he did not trust you a whole lot, so thats something that is pretty vital to the relationship.

That being said, please be understanding of the pieces of Dazai he keeps locked away to never see the light of day again and trust him just as much as he trust you. Its important especially if you don't want the relationship to be one-sided

Also with the high amount of trust he places in you, he doesn't get jealous easily. I mean he may get pissy that you're not giving him any attention but jealous is never the right word to use

Mf finally washes his fucking clothes once he starts dating you. Doesn't smell like the bottom of the ocean on a regular basis anymore.

Dates are always chill and rarely super extravagant. Park dates are often but Dazai's truly preferred date is snuggling inside, watching a few movies and slipping in and out of naps.

Belladonna is his go-to petname for you, of course, but he may bounce around with other petnames for kicks.

He will start calling you weird shit if you ignore him for to long.

Never raises his voice at you unless its in some joking manner. On the rare occurrence that you two have an argument he would need to get extremely riled up before he resorts to raising his voice. He tries to have patience and usually succeeds.

Dazai gets SO soft and SO loving sometimes, and it can be out of no where or something minuscule could have sparked it. All I know is that its nice and cute 🥰

He's usually pretty vulnerable himself when he gets like that so match his energy, alright? If you don't he might end up a little sour for some short amount of time and be more hesitant to get like that

10/10 Lover. This is by no means an effortless relationship, its a constant battle of figuring out boundaries, running into walls and respecting them. Dating Dazai isn't toxic if you treat him right and when you do? It definitely pays off.

(This got so long. I've had so much pent-up Dazai love and all around BSD love and I finally had an outlet to completely let it out)

HUSBAND. THE LOML

Okay, sorry. But this man is the love of my life, and he will be yours as well.

Took him a while to really figure out his feelings for you, or to better put it, it took him a while to label the feeling he had towards you "love"

But ONCE HE DID mans was practically whipped before you officially started dating omg.

You could notice the shift in attitude when he figured out his feelings. He got nervous, went stiff and blushy all against his will. Maybe a tad bit more snappy.

He'd try to keep his cool and then just eat shit and become a babbling angry mess.

After every encounter and interaction with you he'd end up overthinking all of it and when he catches himself doing that he gets so upset with himself. It's really when he realized that he won't be able to keep his feelings a secret forever.

Definitely started avoiding you when planning on the 🌈perfect🌈 way to ask you out and blamed work if you asked him why he was avoiding you.

Anyway, the way he asks you out was almost as calculated as a proposal.

He asks you to meet him at the port and dress comfortably towards the end of the day

When you get there, Chuuya has a nice place set up for you both. A blanket and a bottle of expensive wine because we all know he's lowkey an alcoholic along with a very nice view of the ocean/port.

Chuuya made sure it didn't radiate too much romantic energy to give his plans away; also, he wasn't that nervous. Once he gets truly determined to do something, he doesn't let something like anxiety get in the way of it. The idea of being rejected was essentially an afterthough

Made an effort to make sure he didn't drink too much and neither did you. He didn't want to take advantage of the possibility of you being drunk by the time he asks you out and he knows he himself has a low tolerance

Once the sun began to set is when he asks. Stutters a little bit towards the beginning but smooths it out.

"Y/n, I uh.. I brought you to tell you that I love you."

"Have you drank too much already, Chuuya?"

"No! I'm completely sober!"

It was overall super cute and unforgettable, just as he planned.

Honestly, being in a relationship with this boy is just 🥰

Spoils you so much. You'll deadass be dripped out head to toe purely in stuff Chuuya has bought you.

Dw, he has an alright sense of fashion

Don't try to discourage him, that'll only get him to buy more stuff.

Chuuya's short and the concept of a size difference doesn't bother him at all, he'll find a way to kiss you regardless lol

On the topic of kissing, his favorite places are your lips and hands

He takes of his gloves whenever he's with you and let me tell you his hands are the softest things ever. Albeit his knuckles are a little calloused sometimes.

If you're anything like me, you'd want his soft hands on you 24/7 and y'know what? Chu would happily oblige.

He isn't like the biggest fan of PDA but certainly isn't against it. He'd rather keep things behind doors as much as he can. Holding hands and small kisses on the cheek are very fine by him.

He isn't like the biggest jealous type? He doesn't become overly irate or anything but certainly doesn't take any pleasure in watching you talk to other guys.

Chuuya does have some form of self restraint when it comes to that. Him getting a lil jealous is one of the only things that'll have him completely make-out with you in public or smth

Chuuya is very snuggly and touchy behind closed doors. He practically becomes Dazai but a lot less goofy

Oh yeah he definitely rants about how much he fucking hates Dazai now n again

Isn't huge on petnames but definitely calls you them every now and again.

Princess, babe and baby are his top few.

Chuuya definitely has a morning voice where it drops 2 octaves and its just 🥰

Never yells at you, its pretty shocking. The only times he's ever raised his voice with you is when its very obvious that he's not genuinely upset with you. Almost for comedic affect because it is angry short boy Chuuya

One may think arguments are often with Chuuya, but they're sort of not. He may be a pretty stubborn individual but he never argues to argue unless its Dazai-

He always works towards and agreement to end the argument as soon as possible. He keeps his cool and will never raise his voice. You can barely call them arguments because of how much he tries to keep his cool.

When he's stressed or had a bad day he gets extremely quiet because he doesn't even want the opportunity to open his mouth and take it out on you. The only words he'll say to you while he's in that state is that he's stress and you didn't do anything wrong just to make sure you're not worried over it.

All and all? Chuuya is the best and there's no way around it. He has his faults but always tries to improve and be his best self for you :)

(I had even more pent-up love for Chuuya and it got even longer, whoops-)

#bungou stray dogs x reader #chuuya x reader #dazai x reader #chuuya nakahara x reader #dazai osamu x reader #dazai headcanons #chuuya headcanons #gn!reader #bungo stray dogs x reader #bsd x reader #bsd headcanons #bsd #bungo stray dogs #bungou stray dogs #bungo stray dogs headcanons #bungou stray dogs headcanons #hopefully thats enough tags. i hope you enjoyed my bsd debut

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thequietmanno1 · 3 months

Text

TheLreads, Vigilantes ch 99, Replies Part 2

1) “He’s used to being used to cushion falls, it’s part of his powerset Aizawa.”- Knuckle taught him how to become the trash cushion on the sidewalk. 2) “Oh nevermind then, it was just McBee realizing that his plans continue to go down the drain in the most expected ways because he’s a dumbass. Meanwhile his tulpa continue to give moral support.”- Koichi: “Does something nice, supportive and heroic.” Nomura: And that makes me Angry.

3) “I’m sorry, the guy who can nullify quirks by looking at people can’t do anything to stop you? You sure about that McBee? The only way I can see that being true is if you brought a bomb to Naruhata.”- Aizawa can only be in one place at one time, and as long as Nomura keeps his distance from him and ensures he’s nowhere near the hospital, he’ll have assassinated Pop long before Aizawa ever appears on the scene. It helps that with the low-lighting, it’s harder for Aizawa to get a glimpse of the enemy- though, I’m not sure if his Quirk works properly if it’s too dark to see the target even if they’re within 5 feet of you? Never really been established if that’s a limitation. 4) “Nevermind again, it was just the legion of civilians that know Koichi as a vigilante. Usual stuff of course. Meanwhile Aizawa is not pleased.”- He’s seeing Koichi in action as a hero without him actually being a hero. This is illogical, and thus irritates him. 5) “I forget sometimes that the general public doesn’t know Aizawa since he is more of an underground type that stays away from the spotlights. Even so, the fact that people know Koichi first as a hero and assume Aizawa must be one too since he’s around him is sending me”- Aizawa’s night is not going to get any better. First, he has to deal with an uncooperative punk who won’t learn the lesson he’s trying to beat into him, then he has to reassure nervous civilians on the ground floor, something he’s long established to be very bad at. 6) “WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU GUYS EVEN ABOUT YOU KNOW HE’S A VIGILANTE EVERYBODY AROUND THE NEIGHBORHOOD KNOWS HE’S A VIGILANTE IT’S BEEN THREE FUCKING YEARS ALREADY HOW DO YOU KNOW HIM BUT DOESN’T KNOW HE’S NOT A PRO HERO”- Everybody assumed that him running around committing heroic acts without official hero intervention against him meant he was official. Tacit endorsement and all that. 7) “To be honest I’m surprised there’s that many people walking out considering it’s the middle of the night and the lights are out. I know there must be people coming from work and all that, but jesus at least hurry home, or take cover somewhere”- With the power out, they have no TV or internet to amuse themselves with, so they venture out into the streets to see what the hassle is that interrupting the late-night sports match.

8) “People are bullying Aizawa and it’s honestly one of the funniest things I saw so far. Rare W for furuhashi.”- The boot is on the other foot now. At least it’s funnier than the next time he has to take public criticism for the actions of a bunch of villains. 9) “OH GOD OH FUCK NOW IT’S SPIDERMAN HE IS HERE TO SAVE THE DAY FOR REAL”- It’s spider-man’s Fashion designer! 10) “…

It’s jeanist and edge, isn’t it?

don’t tell me they took this long to find koichi”- I figured they were just hanging back and letting Aizawa handle things on his own, as a favour to him, especially since all of them don’t exactly want to hurt Koichi when stopping him, and Aizawa’s power is best suited for making Koichi run out of his Speed(tm). 11) “OH WHAT A FUCKING COINCIDENCE, THE WHOLE CREW IS HERE RIGHT NOW, RIGHT AS WE NEED TO PLAN A COUNTERATTACK

McBEE NEVER STOOD A CHANCE CONSIDERING HE HAD THE AUTHOR AGAINST HIM”- Honestly, he only seems to have been effective so far because of Furuhashi throwing him some major bones to help build him up into being the final major threat to Koichi. 12) “OH WAIT FUCK I DIDN’T NOTICED THAT WAS THE INTENTION OF THAT WEB HE THREW

FOR FUCK’S SAKE AIZAWA EVEN CALLED A STRING PHONE AND I DIDN’T NOTICE IT

GOD FUCKING DAMMIT”- I Think we’ve seen more applications of Jeanest’s fibre master Quirk in action in this series than we ever did in his showing in MHA.

(Vigilantes ch 97) 13) “But that’s not the reason why. Furuhashi wanted cool heroes we already knew about to face Koichi to show how awesome he is for outsmarting and defeating them, and I already said what I think about it.

*sigh*

And unfortunately I really want to see how this is gonna go down”- The actual reason was so that Koichi could have some competent crises-management heroes on the scene to help the populace whilst he’s dealing with Nomura’s direct attack on the Hospital. (Vigilantes ch 98) 14) “And definitely not because we had permission to use character from the main series and thus we wanted to shove as many recognizable faces as we could whenever we could”- Also because Koichi would be needing professional help in a wide area to handle civilian unrest, when that’s not really been part of his vigilante training so far.

15) “Wait where is that light coming from? What the fuck, why are there shadows here? Is the moon that bright right now?”- Can’t be, it’s not the time of the month for the Full Moon yet, and we’ve only made it part-way through Tartarus so far- oh wait, got mixed up there.

16) “OH JESUS FUCK YOU JINXED IT

NOW I KNOW ALL MIGHT IS GONNA SHOW UP TO SAVE THE DAY

AGAIN.”- Well, only if the plan falls into utter chaos and draws a big enough scene. But surely Nomura can’t fuck it up that badly, can he?

17) “No rush Phelps, it’s not like you could do something useful there anyway.”- Phelps would be a great asset as an official law enforcement officer if he could only get over his need to run things up the chain of command, rather than taking the initiative when the time comes.

18) “Everything was kinda going fine, kinda, until those last few pages, because they pretty much spoiled the end of the story. All that “we did this so All Might won’t come here and ruin the day” is just so we can’t complain when All might come here and ruin the day.”- Well, he won’t actually, so long as Nomura keeps the actual attack quiet and swiftly done. All Might will absolutely deploy if the fight gets to a level beyond what Koichi can handle solo, but in a fight when both sides are using low-powered versions of their moves (Koichi on instinct, Nomura by necessity) in order to keep things from escalating beyond the scope of a scuffle in the darkness, All Might will never catch wind of it until there’s a new corpse in the hospital morgue. @thelreads

#my hero academia #bnha #chapter replies #thelreads #bnha vigilantes #vigilantes 99

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wickedpact · 3 years

Note

You can't just drop that "I read Forces Multiplied" bomb on us and not give a ten page written reaction.

[cracks knuckles] if u insist

nicky cant drive hc: destroyed. rip. also i loved how andy and nile stole those sports cars and were being badass and driving off the bridge & meanwhile joe and nicky were just absolutely vibing in the van

'heres the thing about power: people who have it think they deserve it' [shot of police car] i see u greg

5 whole panels being dedicated to booker not being able to unlock his door. booker not even seeing noriko sitting RIGHT THERE in the window at first. incredible

noriko being 24/7 horny was surprising. like wow all of the stuff i saw she did out of context was 100% equally horny in context as it was out of context. love that for her

i didnt think the 'andy + slavery' thing was handled as badly as everyone made it out to be when telling me about it. tho from the way it was talked about i had kind of figured the conflict between andy and nile re: slavery would be really racially charged (esp considering nile is a black american and would obvs have Thoughts on the subject in that regard) but like,, done in a cringey 'a-white-guy-obviously-wrote-it' kind of way? but it wasnt that. i mean. it makes sense that andy would be implicit in slavery through the years

i mean, like she says, is that not what people just did to each other in the aftermath of battles for thousands of years? and i really like how its pointed out that it was what she was raised with (in the beginning when you see her put shackles on that guy after the battle) but she also accepts responsibility for it and acknowledges that it was wrong and not just 'what people did'.

i like how from her expressions you can kind of tell baby andy knew it was off but she sets those feelings aside bc she felt angry. it explains how she felt but didnt make her out to be blameless in it. plus i mean. i dont know, the fact that andy was involved in a lot of morally shady stuff for 7000 years is not that wild for me. if you live that long youre just Going to be involved in some shit, and she didnt even have other immortals with her as positive community influences, she literally just did whatever the fuck she wanted for thousands of years

'i was worshipped as a god once' i mean, yeah no shit she wouldve been involved in some seriously fucked up stuff, gods were fucking scary back in the day

tldr it could use some polish but it wasnt that bad

tho everything people said about moose being boring was unfortunately a little true. sorry king i tried to be interested in you

joe and nicky writing verbal fanfiction about nile and moose was iconic. 'you seeing that?' 'i am definitely seeing that'

it was also extremely funny bc that was like 60% of their contribution to the whole comic, besides kidnapping copley. they came, they wrote some fanfic, they left. kings. at least in tog1 they had an excuse to be useless bc they got kidnapped

joe just found out his old friend who he thought was dead is alive (and also probably wants to murder them) and instead of investigating with andy he stopped to help nile up. champ.

nicky shooting noriko through andy was cool. rip to the concept since it wont happen in tog2

wanna see mr ejiofor deliver this line

on that note imo copley was. weirdly enough, more interesting in fm than in tog1. to me at least. the fact that andy let him live and he was so haunted by what had happened that he came back and sought them out despite knowing they would likely kill him for it bc he wanted to not only make up for what hed done but also to tell them what theyd done for the world was admittedly more interesting than andy just kind of drafting him to the cause and him going 'okie'

i like how nicky was drawn in this one. in opening fire he looks like a blob man but in fm he looks more like a very nice grampa with a very good dye job

'theres no pain like a broken heart' andy 🥺

noriko implying andy's never drowned. .. .idk about that one, she musta drowned sometime

joe and nicky came, they waxed poetic about nile's love life, they waxed poetic about grog, and then they left.

sports bras being a reason humanity is good. i mean..... okay, yeah.

i mean. wild but you cant exactly tell her shes wrong

i liked how noriko telling andy that their purpose is to make people suffer coincides with joe and nicky finding out that they actually did good all those years

joenicky in opening fire: jail for booker jail for booker for 100 years

joenicky when copley tells them he knows where booker is: WE'LL KILL YOU WHERE IS HE

joenicky when copley comes back: if your vibes come off as even remotely rancid we Will destroy you

joenicky 2 minutes later when copley helped them find booker: he made up some ground :)))) <3 lov you j cops

theyre forgiving af

moose: how old are you?? a hundred??? a thousand???

nile [vine voice]: I M 2 7 ?

alright andy you got me there

joe texts like my aunt

i dont know why noriko drowning andy in that car tickled me. Bad And Naughty Andromaches Get Put In The Pear Wiggler To Atone For Their Crimes.

the drowning sequence was cool

copley trying to talk to andy while she was like o_o at him was great

ive hit the picture limit but id seen that panel where nicky goes 'forgive me' as he kills a guy out of context and it was HILARIOUSLY anticlimactic for me to discover that there was literally no context to it. nicky just apologizes to random people he kills. i thought that guy was someone he knew or something. nope its just Some Guy that nicky didnt know from adam

nile's complaint that andy was especially brutal to the guys on the boat... i mean. . , how exactly does one kill a man with an axe and not be brutal about it?

it was funny how noriko kissed andy and the only people who seemed surprised by that were nile and also andy

nicky and joe's complete non-reaction to finding out noriko is alive And Evil Now is endlesly funny. they just left her on that boat and neither cared. i get book and nile not caring but joe and nicky knew her, and they just have 0 input on the subject of what to do with her

pinstripe suit guy!

joe and nicky and booker packing up and leaving with nile

andy blowing up at nile was A Moment tho

i dont know, i get why people didnt like the ending but its. .. . it makes more sense in the comicverse. bc the squad doesnt really. .. interact outside of jobs? i mean, think of the moon landing story in ttt. that was booker and joe and nicky doing a job and andy only showed up a for a couple minutes after it was done. or the brunch in the first issue of opening fire. the squad arent as tight in the comic, and andy often seems to do her own thing outside of work, so andy saying 'i dont want to do work anymore' and the squad being like 'alright bye then' makes more sense in this universe than the movie one

also i feel like greg was Trying to set up a thing where nile becomes the Leader of The Squad after andy dies but like. its not very well done since. . . i mean, nile hasnt spoken to booker since opening fire, (and she only knew him A Day). and shes known joe and nicky all that time, but there isnt really anything that indicates that they have any relationship at all, much less one that's grown. in all the comicverse the only time nile and nicky speak is in FM, and in that scene nicky tells nile about noriko. nile goes from someone who needs to be set aside to have background knowledge explained to her to being the Leader of the group with nothing in between. it kind of... comes out of nowhere.

on the other hand tho... i felt really bad for andy thru the whole thing. well, i always felt bad for andy, but in this one she seemed so miserable, especially since it really felt like none of the others actually.... cared about her. when noriko came back no one asked andy how she was doing (big question ik, but it wouldve showed they cared at least), nobody ever expressed any concern for her, no one even really seemed to want to be around her. in opening fire everyone was more distant than in the movie of course, but there were little moments where she would joke with joe, or nicky would try and comfort her, or stuff like that, but in FM it really felt like they just didnt really care about her. & in opening fire it felt a lot like andy's relationship with nile breathed some new life into her, but in FM it felt like all they did was argue. i get theyre not *as* close in the comics but it really felt like the only person who cared about andy at all was noriko (which was probably also how andy felt) but it just seemed to come out of nowhere. honestly i was reading and i was honestly agreeing with andy that she might just be better off if she did just die. opening fire, on the other hand, never make me feel that way

tho everyone made it sound like when the squad split up it was one of those cursed 'the found family leaves each other at the end of the journey' tropes. but guys i mean,,, this is the second installment out of three. that isnt the End. theyll come back in the third one and Dramatically Reunite to fight some baddies (probably those 'others' noriko mentioned). im guessing yitzhak fits into that too somehow.

anyways it wasnt That Bad but it made me kind of sad and the only Sweet Found Family vibes in it were when they saved booker. also they shouldve beefed up that nilemoose romance, it underwhelmed me. 6.5/10

i also ABSOLUTELY understand all of greg's comments about how you couldnt make FM directly into a movie, he always said that it had no plot and. i get it now. it really didnt have a plot sdfghjkl

#nicoloalkaysani #it took me So Long to type this up #asdfghjk

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