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grumpygreenwitch · 3 months

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The Witches and Wizards Job 9 - 10 - 11

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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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defectivegembrain · 1 year

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So generally I'm of the unpopular opinion that season four of Community is pretty good actually. Like I like most of the episodes in it, and it's definitely better than seasons five and six. But one part where you can really feel the absence of Dan Harmon is in some of the portrayal of Abed. Like, say what you want about that man, but an actual autistic person is important to writing an autistic character.

Like this is the season where you get Abed describing himself as "emotionless" (while literally displaying emotions). You get Troy of all people saying he has "no emotional hangups" (which is the only part of Basic Human Anatomy I dislike). And then there's fucking Conventions of Space and Time.

Don't get me wrong, I enjoy the episode. It's funny and sweet for the trobed content, and the detail put into the convention is really cool. But first of all, we get Troy hiding that he's sleeping with Britta because Abed's "fragile"? I mean he can't be both fragile and free of emotional hangups, make up your mind. But it's out of character for Troy to be condescending like that. Anyone else I would buy doing that. But Troy?

More than that, I feel somewhat uncomfortable about the Toby thing? We get another character who's supposed to be neurodivergent, probably autistic, but he's...like that. He's a caricature of the worst autistic nerd guys with their heads up their asses about it. And they do exist, it's just...coming from most likely allistic writers (I am speaking generally, obviously I do not know their individual situations) and being the only rep apart from Abed...it feels off. Especially since Abed acts more like that around him.

Toby refers to neurotypicals in a derogatory way (and also I really would not put Troy in that category but that's another thing lol). He talks about them getting distracted by "marriage, kids, competitive cooking shows"...as if any of those are things autistic people can't be interested in?

Abed ultimately does not take the bullshit, but his counter argument is just as grating. "Maybe all relationships are made up of logical inspectors and emotional constables, and we need both to make space and time a better place."

Like. First of all, that has the unfortunate (I'm guessing and hoping unintended) implication that autistic people somehow can't have relationships with each other, and need an allistic person to make it work? Which, uh, no.

And then also uses this weird stereotype that all autistic people are logical and unemotional. Which is bullshit both irl and in the fictional situation being addressed. Toby is a guy who decided that someone was his soulmate based on an email and decided to hold that person captive when he refused to go live with him immediately. That's definitely not logical.

And while Abed can be logical about some things, he's also, you know, a guy who thinks he can predict his future using a bunch of cardboard tubes and would have gotten his legs broken for debts if left to his own devices. And hallucinates when he feels abandoned. Like he is full of emotion and impulses and all that does not actually contradict the ways he tries to systematically analyse things and be practical in other ways. It all fits together, that kind of nuance is how people are, including autistic people. And all that existing in the same person is one of the best things about his character and just...someone in the writing process did not get that.

#community #criticism #abed nadir #autism representation

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skeleton-in-a-hoodie · 2 months

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A thing that I think about a lot in DDMG is the Turtles and the rest of the extended family buying Splinter clothes, and how their tastes in fashion ends up getting reflected in the outfits Rat Dad wears.

I think the second winter the boys know Splinter, they save up money and get him a thick jumper and some warm trousers.

Splinter doesn't really know what to say to this, and his brain goes straight to "These are orphaned children who don't get much of an allowance and these clothes are good quality. How much did these cost? What did my sons give up to afford this?"

Which prompts a conversation, because Splinter didn't feel he could accept it in good conscious, and look, the tags are still on, you could take them back and spend the money on something you four want. And the answer he gets is that they're not going to take the clothes back, because they wanted to get him something.

The trousers need some adjusting so his tail can fit, but they fit surprisingly okay. The jumper is good too, but his proportions are weird and he's tall as hell, so the Turtles went a size above what they thought he'd need, so whilst it's long enough and fits well everywhere else, it keeps slipping off one of his shoulders.

One day, when Raph is in the city, he finds someone selling Ratman merch and can't resist getting Splinter a hoodie. Splinter is mortified but still wears the damn thing because his son got it for him (and it's really soft and comfy, and he ends up chewing on the strings to stim).

Casey gets Splinter heavy metal and punk band t-shirts, and doesn't know how to feel when Splinter actually wears them. Like she's seen him wear the stuff Raph buys him, but at the same time Casey really didn't expect Splinter to actually, like, put the shirt on.

Robyn, Casey's little sister, is quite young, so she just picks stuff that makes her think of her rat uncle. These also get worn, even if the colour she selects aren't something Splinter would chose for himself, but it makes his niece happy. As long as the material isn't too smooth it's all good.

Whenever Kirby goes through his wardrobe for things he doesn't wear anymore, he'll give anything he thinks Splinter would like/ will fit to him. This is how Splinter gets a lot of cardigans. Kirby, April and Mikey also form team "Let that old man be comfy" and get Splinter as many warm jumpers as they can. Mikey tries to find brightly coloured stuff for Splinter, whereas April is like "I think this is cute!"

Donnie is responsible for the overalls, and Leo the short sleeved button up shirts and to be honest anything practical. Tseng gets Splinter Hawaiian shirts, saying it's part of Splinter's old man training.

Socorro ends up in a years long battle with Splinter over the issue of wearing shoes. Her argument is it'll stop him walking on broken glass again, his is that shoes are sensory hell and he'd rather chew his own leg off. The battle is won when these two remember sandals exist. Socorro does not bother with slippers, and settles instead for "You need a warm winter coat." "I AM LITERALLY A FIRE GHOST."

Generally speaking they all try to pick out clothes in dark colours, or maroon, because his kimino is that colour and he seems to like it. There's also a lot of green after they find out its his favourite colour.

Also they find out Splinter really likes scarfs and half-finger gloves, so he has a ton of them. Most of those are from Raph, who learns how to knit and crochet, but the rest of the family will bring Raph wool in different colours so he can make fun patterns and stuff. He learns how to make dragon scale gloves, makes some modled off godzilla, which results in a lot of happy stimming from rat dad.

His wardrope ends up having a lot of skirts too, because those are easier to adjust so his tail fits okay than trousers, and sometimes it's nice to have new clothes you can just wear straight away and not have to tailour yourself.

It's also worth mentioning that Splinter does not separate these styles out and just wears whatever is most comfy/ he feels like that day.

Also he knows how to embroider, so chances are at least some of his clothes get hand stitched designs on them. Same goes for his sons' clothes, cause if they have something that needs fixing he tries to make the mend at least look nice. Leo's jeans end up having so many stars on them from when Rat dad had to patch them and tried to make it look good.

#tmnt #tmnt 2012 #tmnt au #dead doesn't mean gone au #when we get to the point in the au where splinter can choose between outfits #it's going to feel so weird for him #he is not used to having options #this also really kicks in the teeth the perception of him as frightening

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kolbietheaggrievedwriter · 11 months

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Someone has written their own take on a BrOC (which you should check out!), and it reminded me of my first iteration of jumpstart, where I initially thrust our OC into Bro eight years before canon. I prefer the current plot, especially bc I absolutely do not know how to write a 5 year old. But it's a fun little idea.

You allow your head to thunk onto the counter. The pain barely registers through your panic. You've been denying the possibility the moment you woke up and discovered that you had switched both locations and bodies overnight, but it's been half an hour. Nothing's changed. It's not a dream. Your name is (probably) Dirk Strider, and you are absolutely, undeniably fucked.

"Bro?" And that's a kid calling out to you, jesus christ.

You don't want to look up. You don't want to acknowledge the reality of your situation. But there's a kid involved, and you could never put your own discomfort above the wellbeing of a child. Besides, you have a pretty good idea who that kid is, and he definitely doesn't deserve to have his (probable) guardian ignore him.

You lift your head and get your first good look at the real life version of Dave motherfucking Strider. He's tiny, is your first thought. Itty bitty. He can't be older than four or five. He's also wearing tiny duplicates of the cringe shades you haven't had the courage to actually put on your face without dying of embarrassment, and he's fucking adorable. What the hell. Why can a kid pull off those dumbass shades better than you?

Probably because kids can make anything look cute, but a grown ass man would just look like some weeaboo dipshit.

"Sup, li'l man," is what comes out when you open your mouth to answer him. What the fuck. Is Bro, like…still inside you? Well, he can just get fucked then. You're in charge now.

Dave approaches you slowly, cautiously, like he's going to get in trouble if he gets too close. "Sup," he says, pushing his shades back up when they slide down.

"How old are you now?" You ask, monotone, which is weird as fuck because you're not particularly trying to not emote, but you figure this body has been programmed to do this shit for, what - twenty something years now? People say habits are hard to break for a reason.

Dave apparently doesn't think anything of your question because he doesn't hesitate to answer. "I'm five," he says, drifting closer to you almost like he can't help himself, even despite his wariness. "It's my birthday," he adds, aiming for the same monotone shtick you've got going on but missing by a mile. He's obviously hoping for something, and you bet those big eyes are shining with fragile expectation behind the mini shades.

"Five," you say, contemplative, as an idea strikes. You're not going to abuse a small child, so sticking to the script is a no go. Might as well go completely off the rails and do things your way. "That's a big milestone for a li'l dude. Now that you've made it five whole years, I think it's about time you were officially designated as my li'l bro."

"Li'l bro?" Dave parrots, curious but trying not to seem so. The shades slip again. He pushes them back up.

"Yup. You're my bro now, so things between us are gonna change a bit. No more acting like we're too cool for school around each other, alright? That shit's for other people. We don't front in front of each other. Striders stick together," you give him a bullshit explanation and hope he buys it. Otherwise, you're not sure how to explain your abrupt change in behavior. "You good with that?" You ask, making sure it's actually a question.

"I'm good," Dave says, though he looks confused. This is probably the most he's ever heard his "Bro" speak, and you are being pretty vague.

You turn, crouch, and open your arms. "First things first: hugs. Bros hug any time they feel like, but they get a special one on their birthday. It's tradition." Or it will be, anyway. Humans need physical affection and kids even more so. You, for your part, fucking love hugs. You're not about to let your kid (Oh fuck, he's your kid!!!) be deprived of such a pivotal human experience any longer.

Dave looks surprised, and he takes his sweet time walking over and getting up in your space, pausing every now and then like he's waiting for you to change your mind - or more likely, say it was a "test" and that Dave had failed or something. But you maintain your position, and your intent expression lets him know you are dead serious about this.

#my fic #jumpstart #brOC #homestuck #also the abrupt change is probably way too unnatural for lil dave to just #accept it #but you can hardly blame me (or brOC) for wanting to give the kid a hug can you????

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claire-starsword · 8 months

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The Guardiana Magic School Run - Part 6

Manarina time. As you might have heard, this is a weird place.

The weirdness includes having a hidden Demibuster on its walls. I'm fairly sure there are no more dark dwarves to fight, and this sword is already outclassed by the Middle Sword. Why is it here.

It can be sold for money I guess, but even that has a catch. Special items like this go to the deals section when sold, to make sure you don't lose them forever. I'm unsure if filling the deals section this way messes with the generation of random new deals. So I'm a bit afraid to do it, but on the other hand the deals section hasn't done much for us lately. We shall see. Right now we have more important things to do.

New party member.

Our beloved ice queen sadly starts out as like, a lesser Tao, and not just because of the level difference. She has less HP overall, the squishiest of defenses, and will take longer to learn AoE spells, because she gets Freeze before Blaze level 2. Freeze will be a great spell to have later on due to greater damage and range, but this and the next chapter are like, chock full of undead enemies immune to it, so yeah, not great!

The Steel Rings have always had her name on it, so Tao gives two to her, and now they both share a 7 in defense. Anri then swaps weapons with Khris, ensuring I won't have to spend money on a Power Staff, because Anri does not need one, I do NOT want this woman in the front lines ever.

We then get a very important egg, say hi to Arthur in the laundromat, and briefly return to Rindo to buy Medical Herbs for Anri, as Manarina has no shop. Hilariously I'm exactly 1 coin short of buying more than two herbs. Anri also gets the Antidote I've found last chapter, even though I generally feel healing is more useful.

I'm not very worried for this battle anyway, so I'd say preparations are complete. We head to the Cavern of Darkness.

The clear bonus is just money and I'm not too concerned about it.

We start greeted by two zombies, and compared to the four zombies of last time I don't care. Poison can be an annoyance but thankfully this time Lowe can reach people to heal them. And the zombies are so slow basically everyone can get into position before they move. And by position I mean Gong and Max will be tanking everything as usual.

Except they won't, the zombies don't even get the chance to act as the mages finish them off. Very nice for Anri to get the exp, and Tao also levels up, both her and Gong are a level above Max actually, I didn't notice that. She learns the Sleep spell, which I don't think I've ever used in any game in the series, but this is the magic school run so maybe we'll show it o- haha i'm kidding who cares use fireball and only fireball

Turn 3 opens up to a little more excitement, I though enemies would stick to blocking the bridge but one Sniper got spicy, Max remains irresistible I guess. Beyond the bridge there's like, five bats and you know that can get annoying, especially since they can cross through the water. My main concern as usual is the mage with its big damage, but Snipers also have a chance of picking my squishy people from afar so I want them gone as well.

Gong continues to massacre.

The Power Staff debuts amazingly, I even regret sending Tao after this guy first because this would have been a one hit kill.

Max counter kills the first bat that goes for him, because I guess he's still pissed off at the last battle. Sadly he doesn't do that for the second one, so we're still stuck on the bridge in annoying ways. The zombie also poisons him, because this man can't take a break.

Yeah he's not happy.

Turn 5. I was too afraid to send anyone ahead after Gong and Max killed the zombie blocking the bridge but Max countered the bat in front of him so we can move on now. He's also no longer poisoned thanks to Lowe, though he does need some healing.

Khris gets to him and earns a great level up for her troubles. Lowe is the only healer missing Heal 2 at this point. It's worth mentioning that Heal 2 is even more useful here than in the mega drive, as it heals 20 HP as opposed to 15, and has the same range as Heal 3. Kind of an exaggerated buff, honestly.

Anyway, the bats get wiped out without much problem, mostly by Tao, with Anri getting a kill in which is nice. Their spells cannot be dodged so they're the best to deal with these pests. We now head to the worst part of the battle.

These three mages can kill any force member at this point if they all focus on the same target. Even just two Blazes can be deadly. Of course, they're still easy to kill and hardly move, so it's matter of timing the approach to kill at least two before they act.

Gong and Max manage it just fine in the next turn. Since we're nearing the end, I'm start spamming heal spells for exp, though some real healing will need to be done too as one mage survived. Lowe in particular has tons of MP and the Skeleton doesn't move, so I'm still confident.

...never mind the Skeleton does move. And it's beefy enough to finally do more than one damage to Max, even if still not concerning.

Max also takes less than half of its HP, something that hasn't happened in a while. See the game is not a complete cakewalk to the magic school, we're just still pretty good. Also, Max has leveled up twice in this battle but got only one or two stats raised up, so it really seems like his godly level ups are a thing for the beginning only.

Also, the Skeleton stats claim it has no magic resistance, but Blaze 1 did only 6 damage which I find a bit weird. Still, we have two mages so it was enough to end this, and luckily Anri is the one to reap the exp and her first level up.

No HP, no defense, lots of magic, it's a very squishy wizard level up for sure.

Fairly sure I had turns to spare, at least this time I did expect the battle to be easy.

Besides the plot mandated Orb of Light, this cavern has lots of other loot. There's a spare Power Staff, which I can give to Tao in case of emergency I guess, a Voodoo Staff which is not as good and has the issue of being special enough to go to deals when sold, guess for now Anri can have for emergencies too, a Medical Herb, nicely filling Anri's final item slot, and more importantly, the Power Ring. This thing has someone's name written all over it.

Arthur has finished his job and can join us now! He's uh, not off to a great start. His HP is on par with Anri's (derogatory), his defense is around the ring wearing spell casters here, not ideal for a melee fighter, and his attack is lower than the priests, though that might say more about the priests than anything. Anyway, the next battle is full of new stronger enemies and a boss with an overpowered spell, and I have seen this man die as his very first action multiple times, so while it's fun to still get to play a knight in this kind of run, I'm not thrilled for this beginning.

We can try to make it better though. Let's head back to Rindo. And get immediately side tracked by the deals section.

The Zombie Charmer is an even stronger staff than our current ones, with extra damage to undead enemies. It was likely made for the Shade Abbey battle but still useful to deal with the plentiful of skeletons in Chapter 3. However, I'm fairly sure it is the clear bonus of the next battle, so we don't necessarily have to spend this much money to have it. Even if it would be very rad to have two.

It's a tough decision between it and the Charm Rings, but given that I'm worried for the next battle, and the rings can be useful for the whole rest of the run and are limited to this chapter, I'm think I'm going for them. The deal will still remain here for Chapter 3 if I need it.

Back to Arthur, I buy him a Spear to give him range, and hope the Power Ring compensates for the drop in attack. It actually does leave him with 18 attack which is 1 more than he started, so it should be fine. Now I just need this man to never be touched by an enemy in his whole life.

I then buy a couple Medical Herbs for him as usual, and a Charm Ring for Max. Max now has 23 HP and 32% magic res, which I hope means something against the Marionette. I considered giving it to Lowe since he has the Doll Hater, but he has little defense and that thing packs a punch physically as well, so do the minor Mishaela minions as well. The circus battle sucks. I hate relying only on Max for everything, but he feels like the only guy with enough HP for the magic resistance to matter.

That's all preparation I can do. Next update we find out who lives or dies.

Losses: 0 Deaths: 1 The expected deaths on Narsha interludes: 0/3

#shining series #shining force #ressurection of dark dragon #guardiana magic school run

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arimarushunya · 1 year

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I just finished pokemon violet, and while I have many many gripes with how it runs and certain mechanics, I'm with nearly everyone else I've seen talk about this game in that it's probably my fav.

What makes me really sad tho is that this game had so much more potential to be absolutely phenomenal, had it not been rushed like it was. Imagining what kind of game it could have been with more time and attention,,,, almost makes me hate it as is lmao

stream of consciousness and spoilers under cut

Area Zero man. None of the rest of the scenery really wowed me, but going thru Area Zero... my initial enjoyment of it was a bit dampened by not being able to use Miraidon to get around, but it was still just a cool area and I can't wait to explore it more thoroughly later.

I really liked the rpg-ness of having friends traveling with me. It made the game feel fuller and more impactful. Like a lot of the game until that point was traveling vast expanses of just pokemon, with very small chunks of story happening at ocassional checkpoints. Having people traveling with me who were moving the story along while I traveled made the game flow better and feel like my traveling was part of the story, if that makes sense. Wish it had been a mechanic during any other part of the game (tutorial aside).

Story wise, I guessed the big twist pretty early on, but I think it actually aided my enjoyment? like, the tension of probably knowing Turo's fate while traveling with Arven, who just wants to see his dad.... 😭😭😭

The first Turo fight was cool, I'm a sucker for AI goes rogue but good stories. Everything after that fight tho was kinda,, eh. I didn't find Miraidon's arc super compelling, and the ending felt weird. Idk how to explain, but AI Turo's decision felt more selfish than sacrificial, which didnt tonally mesh well with me. But, it's a kids game, it need a somewhat feel-good ending ig.

Now, my main gripes:

- Performance. This honestly goes without saying; this is everyone's biggest gripe with the game. It's extremely unpolished and runs like shit. I don't think I got over 20 frames at any point. Considering BOTW and Odyssey both came out YEARS before this, there really shouldn't have been this much of an issue making a large open world switch title. This is likely cause by how rushed the game was, and it's so sad to see.

- it's pretty empty. like I said above, there's vast expanses of land to travel thru, but once you've caught the pokemon in the area, it can be a drag to explore because there's nothing else really compelling. Having more story beats outside of towns, or having a traveling companion might have fixed this, but as is it feels like a slog to explore.

- Character customization. I'm getting fucking blue balled by Nintendo, having all these clothing shops in scarvi that they don't do shit bc you're forced to wear one of four outfits the entire game. Like, they were so close. I have to imagine this was due to time constraints, bc the other option is they did it out of spite to prevent boys wearing skirts.... I just was so turned off by the shops as a whole bc this sucked so much ass.

- various QOL: - would have loved repels to prevent small ass pokemon spawning underfoot while I'm trying to get somewhere. - shiny indicator, some of these pokemon are impossible to tell apart (<strike>tandemouse</strike>). - Being able to see the previews of picnic items before you buy them like every other shop item??? - FOR MY POKEMON TO MATCH MY WALKING SPEED IN LETS GO MODE FOR THE LOVE OF GOD. YOU CANT PUT A POKEMON IN THE GAME THAT NEEDS WALKING TO EVOLVE AND THEN HAVE IT NEED TO GO BACK IN ITS POKEBALL EVERY 4 SECONDS.

I don't really have a closing note for this, it's just ramblings at 1am after having binged pokemon for the last week, but I do want to touch on the terastal/paradox pokemon designs. tbh I hateee how the terastal pokemon look. their hats are so so so so stupid looking. but, once I realized that you can change the tera typing, I'm not as mad about it. I get they can't do custom forms for every type for every pokemon, but God are the UGLYYYYY.

As for the paradox pokemon, they look cool, but I think with the premise of future pokemon, it would have been more interesting for them to be organic rather than robotic. I think there was supposed to be a theme of AI thru the game, bit they didn't really dive deep enough into that. It would have been much cooler for the pokemon to be like, crystallized somehow. bc of their relation to the tera crystals and all. idk, future = robots just feels uninspired. Buttttt, they look cool enough, and they paradoxed my fav pokemon, so I think I can let this slide. for now.

EDIT: after I hit post I remembered that Clavell said "cheugy" at me and it made me have to explain cheugy to my wife and I have never been so fucking blindsided by a video game

#pokemon spoilers #give me your egg

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lemony-snickers · 2 years

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Hey jelly🐈 here again!

I like the idea of whumptober! That sounds fun to participate in. I enjoy doing kinktober but it's more the writing exercise for me than anything. I like to stick to kinks I enjoy and I mostly write y/n and reader content anyway so I don't get too involved in the ships. I'm curious about the horror themed content you had thought up. I'm huge into halloween and horror.

😘 you really are a sweet person. I look forward to when you reply to my asks. I'm a coward for not just messaging you but I guess I've always been an anxious mess. I'm scared of rejection a lot. I'm afraid if you knew who I was, you'd probably make fun of me. But that's not an attack on you, I'm just an anxious person and I think everyone is going to make fun of me.

Hope your day goes so well and that you find money on the ground! Cause finding money on the ground is such a good feeling ❤ you deserve nothing but the best

oh, my sweet little jelly, you do not have to defend your decision to remain anonymous to me. some of my mutuals could tell you i am in their inbox constantly, but never with my name attached.

idk why, i just like it better that way myself. <3

and i think *no one likes me* always, even the people who say they do. i recently had a fun mental health day where i left all my group chats and naruto servers on discord for this reason.

i am a Grade-A Certified Disaster Person, lmao.

can i tell you the last time i found money on the ground was a long time ago, but it was at a pop up market in a park near my house. and it was four hundred dollar bills!!!! (i know right, who the fuck carries that on themlajsdf;lasjdfsad anyway.)

i just sort of stood there for a long time holding this money and looking at my partner wondering what to do. because you can't just say, "did somebody drop $400?" because i'm pretty sure several people who did not drop it would say they did, you know?

we were in front of this stand selling antique camera stuff (i have a collection but it's all from my family, so i wasn't actually buying anything it was all waaaayyyy too expensive) and i just sort of stepped off to the side.

i told my partner to keep an eye out for anyone who looked like they had lost something and a few minutes later there was a man with his son who seemed so panicked. they were scanning the ground and turning around and you could just tell, you know?

so i walked over and asked if they were missing something and the dad said yes and then i asked him what he was missing and he said he'd dropped $400. so i gave it back to him and maaaannnn the relieved look on his face, he was so grateful and listen, i won't lie, i was disappointed i didn't get to keep that money because that's a big deal for me--and would have been even more so at the time--but it was a cool moment.

and then, while we were leaving the park a few minutes later, he ran up behind me and gave me $20 as a thank you! so i did sort of find money even though i didn't keep what i actually found, ahaha.

anyway. this probably reads as one of those "that didn't happen" stories you see on social media or whatever, but that's fine because it did happen and it's a nice memory so i thought i would share.

i dreamt last night that i went back to college (well sort of it was like a weird robot island but apparently that was college? idk dreams are weird, man) and i was studying makeup fx which was always a passion of mine i wish i had pursued more.

maybe it's a sign i really do need to get back to loving halloween somehow.

i hope you have a great day, my little jelly. i'm sorry i rambled so hard on this, i slept in and so i just woke up like an hour ago & i am fresh into my first cup of coffee, going about 9000 mph, lol.

take care, my dear. <3

#ask #and answered #a 🐈 named jelly

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frogsandfries · 9 months

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Well that was obnoxious

I should've just stayed exclusively on mobile, but my phone is seriously dying and I want to blather about my actually better-than-expected progress this evening. I got to page thirty-four on Canva, which was all I had edited the apostrophes and quotation marks. I've already done something like ten new pages of this cleanup; that's really going to be the biggest drive.

The book punch is on its way in the next few weeks, and I ordered some *impressive eyebrow wiggle* tiny paper origami cranes for the bookmarks for Manacled! I'm going to try to spend this next few weeks typesetting Mirror.

I bought some red ribbon for Apple Pie--I bought a bone folder! Book corners, a five-ended cat tunnel, and a silverware organizer! I'm probably going to crack at some point in the next two weeks or so and buy yet another pack of paper.

I'm actually half-trying to find if there's a better paper I'm "supposed" to be using? And since I'm basically out of adhesive (except for the methcel???), I also went to find a new adhesive that's better for bookbinding.

You'll never fucking believe.

First, they still make Yes Paste--I gave my barely used, almost at least ten-year-old jar to my friend because she scrapbooks. Who knows how old it was when it was handed along to me, and still usable at the point at which I shared it.

Second, you better goddamn believe I'm slapping down nearly thirty bucks for about sixteen ounces of that shit. It'll last a million years.

Third, for those of you, like me and formerly not in the know, Yes Paste is kinda fucking amazing like. It's weird. So it's almost a solid gel. I'm not entirely positive how it's supposed to be applied. The few times I used it, I think I used my finger. I couldn't really think of how else to use it at the time without being destructive (I didn't have any disposable plastic cards on me at the time). I would recommend an old plastic card or, more formally, a rubber squeegee. It would be to thick and heavy to use a regular paint brush, but perhaps one of those plasticky "disposable" ones from Michaels? With the cheap metal handles?

Another cool thing about Yes Paste is, it's not wet!! Which makes it amazing to use on paper, because the paper won't warp.

I don't remember how it dries, but I feel like I remember it drying sticky; not sure if there were specific instructions for that, but I don't think I read the label on the jar.

Anyway, I do of course already have plans for my portion of next paycheck. I probably had plans for every check from the time I moved in till idk man, probably September or October, at the earliest. I needed storage for all the stuff that's been stuck in these totes I used to move. I want to revenge purchase this tree bookshelf (or a couple). My ex can't stop me and only made me want it more by saying they hated it. Some laptop accessories would not be amiss. I'm still waiting anxiously for a good opportunity to get a new soda machine.

Then I remembered that I need to start adding a couple of items to my wardrobe at least a month, if not every paycheck for a while. Soooooo......... Yeah. Then I added this bookbinding hobby to my roster for at least a few months here and there. Surely I'll get my fill after a while, like with the graphic novel, where I still pick at it here at there, waiting for some kind of trigger to throw me back in. Oh well, I needed to shake up my hobbies for a while. Don't forget also slowly gathering tools and materials for paper-making (just imagine using my leftover scraps of fabric from these fanfic books on my recycled paper sketchbooks--ooooooh).

Anyway, I can only expand within the bounds of my habit, so eventually the spending will need to stop. I only need so many dishes and kitchen accessories, bookshelves (okay, you think the limits of my container are going to help my bookbinding obsession???), clothes.......

#yes paste #bookbinding #materials #adhesive #glue #paste #recommendation #ramble #slightly stoned #just a touch

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castle-dominion · 1 year

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c3x23 pretty dead

This is a nostalgia song for me but it was released in 2011 so it was modern at the time. Wow. W o w...

I only rly know anything abt anything bc of the movie dumpling when some fat girl & some punk feminist joined a beauty contest. This man looks like a pimp. Kind of is Nice yellow cumberbund thing Illinois? Being french is weird. I want to say illinwa but everyone else says illanoy She;s wearing interesting clothing. Wow short with your daddy. I mean we all need to get away from home! Hey! I love the emotional b plot, it's so good to see rick as a dad who loves his daughter & supports her instead of acting like the twelve year old who can score his teacher. Odds are, someone's dead.

It's not the baron is it? Beckett outfit update: Detective clothes. Double breasted trench coat looking thing tied with a fabric belt. Her shirt is sort of crazyquilted in blocks it has colours, more pink around the waist. It is a regular collared buttonup shirt. I think I've seen her in it before too, which is nice bc I like seeing continuity. Ryan outfit update: Green sweater, dress shirt, brown normal looking coat (still professional enough), I can't tell the pants or tie bc the lighting is weird. Update: it's a light purple-tinted shirt. He's aken off his jacket in the precinct & I can see it now. The shirt has really nice collars & it's actually stripy but so light u can hardly see it. Tie is green & patterned slightly, it's like diamonds but it's also because the grain of the weave changes I think, so the way the light reflects off of it makes some of them more shadowed than others. PERLMUTTER YESSS SP: Detective. Writer.

I should call my dad. I don't talk to him enough. Glad he said he didn't actually know the time, just vaguely a little before 11; tho he could have also checked. Baron called them both detectives lol I mean yeah fair to the victim first but at the same time she's dead she won't feel it. Yeah lol I love how they're filming BTS & it might actually be a good idea to keep em on Come again! Oh no wait we don't want that. She's so silly I love her.

In the elevator scene the button for floor 4 is lit. (for floor four lol.) Homicide is on the 4th floor.

Beckett was indeed a model but not a beauty queen.

I like the one cop getting a picture with a queen oh goodness this is insane. A bunch of gals who look exactly the same all milling about this stinky bullpen & entire precinct wow & that "winners never slouch" got my mom & me to straighten our posture & celebrate the fact that she wasn't one of those moms who gave her kids eating disorders KB, whispering: CASTLE. THEY'RE EVERYWHERE. JE: Beats the usual lowlifes & nutjobs ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°) KB: I don't know if u can say that nut jobs and beauty queens are mutually exclusive JE: Yeah, but none of them connect to the murder. I checked the sequin against all their dresses RC: I bet you did. ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°) JE: & none of them are a match. KB: Okay, look at the footage from the dinner. Let's make sure that the dresses we checked are the ones they actually wore. JE: Hm. Watch a parade of beautiful women in evening attire? Yeah, I can do that. RC: I bet you can. ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°) KR: Hey. So, I've been interviewing these ladies-- RC: I bet you have. ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°) KR: -! About their alibis last night!

clipping

Castle she's probably way too young for you

This man is gay af. I'm glad it's about more than beauty & who can buy the fanciest dress. I would honestly expect to be makeup skills, dance skills, & sewing skills more than who can afford what or even stuff like social issues. It's kind of neat how it's a talent show as well as a beauty contest. I like this guy. He seems so stressed over his gal dying. Political he says, making those motions with his hands

Black sequins? It's like the wedding video. I thought they were black sequins! I just couldn't tell if it was black bc it was so shiny.

KR: For unwanted *looks to esposito* advances Esposito ryan is telling u to stop hitting on him, he's getting married. /j btw KR, eyes wide with excitement: Oh but it gets better! *hits espt gently* JE: *barely raises an eyebrow* (he would bite castle's head off if it was him) KR: *excitedly continues to explain the drama*

Ew I hate this bobby character. Man sat on the wrong side of the table ...Goddess train...???.?.?? Who wouldn't want to ride the bobby rocket? Everyone from what we hear! Boy can't even remember?

KB: this guy's dropped more pills than a three fingered pharmacist I can't believe castle took dad advice from him Esposito just had video running on beckett's computer? (btw i figured out how to put question marks on tumblr wéo relying on copy-paste: I use my french keyboard!)

Esposito has an ass

Someone would probably pawn the fiddle, not drop it down a drain. Tho pawned can lead back to u. Captions? He said right on, not all right. KB just sits in the desk espt was just at

Oh martha is so pretty! Far right! Look at her abs! What was your talent? The way I wore a sweater. Oh poor Alexis. I love the drama. Give her a hug! I'm so glad alexis has gram there.

Ok castle, you have been divorced twice, idk if your relationship advice is that good

Parallel. It's love! Montgomery is so sweet I love him! RM: If you stayed married long enough, you'd know it's hard to stay original after the first ten. BRUH. (that was good!) JE: Yeah, he was tweeting photos of his manhood along the way. *holds up fingers close together* (won clip)

KR with a nice pastel blue sweater, plus his usual attire. I don't like that accent. KB has a nice jeanjacket with those leather sleeves. You would disrespect a beautiful & expensive instrument like that? 25 is old? Your brain has barely finished developing! Drugs?

Ah nudes.

lmao I love the sticky notes they put over them RC: Well, just because you're smart and beautiful doesn't mean you have good judgment. KB: RC: I didn't mean me.

RC: Deadly action, that's a good title JE: *looks down & shakes head in exasperation* Why would the photographer pay HER for the photos? She would be paying THEM for the session, right? Also dang she's skinny.

Boy's gay voice is so strong that my little bro thought a woman was speaking. & then I went all trans on him & explained voices. I don't even know as much as I would like to tbh. I should take singing lessons (not necessarily gender affirming voice lessons)

RM: Beckett, you're a woman, right? KB, lowkey flustered: Sir, I have no idea what to get your wife! [...] RC: The best thing to give a woman is something she said she wanted when she didn't think you were listening. RM: What if I wasn't listening? RC: Gift certificate? no honey no

JE: *turns around to watch someone's booty* "Negative" Yay she's sending ryan to meet up with him finally, keep the boys together

I like how he doesn't remember the actual name but does remember it was smth similar to jerry. Already "night before last"? Mum is always confused about how the doorone remembers everything. Sus? Sure. Lack of smth regular? Maybe. Smth normal? not rly.

Keieiper XD Every guy is a creep in the eyes of the parent. Poor becket,, look at her nearly pulling her hair out. KB: It was my own private Vietnam. Our place smelled of hairspray, perfume, and cigarettes. I'm surprised that we didn't spontaneously combust.

It's ash!!! He really does love her to go see her dad at work to win her back Long distance relationships are better than they used to be. It used to be that your man goes off to make a fortune so he can marry you but then gets attacked by pirates & becomes a pirate himself & then steals you back from kidnappers, or you go away for ten months & then come back & your wife has a kid altho I might be mixing up the birth of hercules/heracles with ulyssix/odysseus & his son who I thought might be nine years old when the man was gone for ten idk it's smth like that anyways it's better to have long distance relationships these days since back then you could send letters that take ages to get to that war zone or whatever.

Ryan's the one who said "yo" this time Ew an obsessive porn wall Ew he's hanged right behind it. they didn't smell it

Peri mortem. During death, not before, not after. Before amber? Yes Before! Now can you please move? You're in my light! (Perlmutter also has an actor who needs to know where to stand to get his light) (not clipping)

By today's standards are downright tasteful! Those convenient sticky notes Girl he's on the phone, you're asking him to do work while he's on the phone? Poor Jenny. "Sorry Babey."

RC: You know I-- I hate to interfere… AC: Since when? RC: Point taken.

Nice little magnifying glass! He got it bc beckett doesn't have one Coffee <3

Y'all agreed & knew he was a cheater? Wow this is dramatic. WOAH A VASE! Who do I need to be ashamed in front of? "take care of it"???

BOBBY STARK? Course he doesn't remember.

Strawberry oil XD ok rick

Why woulld he assume one of them was lying? Didn't they all say she was great?

He was so upset! No! (Ryan & espt had better be there) Ah yes they are. Where u going? Huh?

Good work you two! *clearing throats loudly* (Ryan's square shirt love it.) Good work you folks. Rick really is a charmer isn't he? I love it when characters are in love Dancing "That gift this morning"? sounds like sex Wait, you're serious, boss? Smile, please. That's an order. (They all smile and chuckle.) RM: Hey, you kids take care, alright? (He really is the dad of the precinct) KR: What the hell did you say to him? RC: Nothing! No, I just told him to listen to what his wife wanted. JE: Damn, Castle. KB: Castle, let me let you in on a little secret. Captain Montgomery retires all the time, just give it a week or two. He's like the Brett Favre of the NYPD. Trust me. He's not going anywhere. It's just so cute, I KNOW they are just teasing him & making him think they were mad at him> & then espt still makes that move at him lol. Making him run out of the room sideways.

She will keep showing up See you tomorrow SDFHAKSJDFHDSFD

She is such a lil genius just like my bb bro. I took an extra year of highschool lol.

So yeah good episode.

#castle 3x23 #castle 3x23 quote #castle 3x23 spoilers #the beauty pageant episode

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rommahh · 3 years

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Love On Tour…Actually

{Im sorry for how late this was. I went to the show Friday and honestly, it was the best day of my life. I had a little PCD which made me super unmotivated but I’m back. I love you all, R}

You woke up a little grumpy, you won’t lie. You didn’t like waking up alone especially on a show day. It made you uncomfortable to be left to your own devices without any structure or schedule. You understood that Harry was a busy man but it would’ve been nice to receive some text so you could plan your day accordingly.

Sitting on the couch in the lounge of your hotel room, you chowed down on leftover pasta while watching Netflix on your iPad. You had yet to receive a text from Harry even though you had texted him hours ago when you woke up. It was hard to tell if he was ignoring you out of anger or if he was simply just lost in track. Either way you felt dejected.

On the other hand, Harry hadn’t even noticed that he iced you. He was busy running around Nashville trying to get things ready for tonight’s show. He bought you a new dress and shoes, and got the ring fitted. It was hard to figure out your ring size but he end up measuring your finger when you were passed out asleep in bed last night. When you slept, you slept and he knew that would be the perfect time to measure your finger.

Harry was so busy that morning, that by the end of his errands he realized he didn’t even have time to go back to the hotel before rehearsals. He was sporting a small cough and his vocal chords felt overworked but that’s all apart of tour.

Pulling his phone out of his back pocket as he walked into the arena, he dialed your number quickly. He had people trying to talk to him but he paid them no mind.

“Oh? Would you look who’s here?” Harry’s head shot up to the sound of your voice. There you sat on his dressing room couch, arms crossed over one another as you glared at him. Your gaze burned through him and he could just tell he was in trouble.

“Hello lovie.” Harry rasped.

“Harry you sound like shit but here you are up and about running around. You should’ve slept in this morning.” Scolding as you stand up to walk in front of him. Harry could feel the anger radiate off of you but you hid it well. He melted into your hands that cupped his warm cheeks.

“I had a lot of errands to run and I didn’t want to wake you. Also it’s just a sore throat from singing and traveling- comes with being on tour.” He mumbles dropping his head into your neck. You caress the hairs on the back on his neck and massage the tense muscles.

“You’ve got to think about yourself more, Harry. You have a show to put on but you can’t put on your best show if you’re not at your best. I am not happy with you at all.” Even though your words were scolding him, you held him your arms in the most soothing way. That’s what Harry loved about you, you cared for him like no one else could (aside from his mom). You could tell him off with your harshest words but he’d always feel your love from miles away.

“You’re right love, sorry for not keeping in touch today.” You hum in acknowledgement. You both pulled away from each other when his driver walked in with Harry’s abundance of bags. “Thank you, sir.”

“What all did you buy?” You ask walking towards the bags. Harry’s arm shot out in front of you making you stop. You looked up at him in shock. “Fine be secretive.”

You huffed before making your way back to the couch. Harry rolled his eyes at you, making way to his shopping bags. Plucking the bag from Nordstrom he plopped it down on the table in front of you.

“I just didn’t want you snooping at some other stuff. I bought you this, for tonight.” He sat down beside you, thighs touching leaving no room between you two.

“Im not trying to be mean. Just a little peeved that you left this morning without telling me. You also have a cold and I wanna take care of you since you won’t do it.” A hand rubs his forehead luring his eyes shut.

“Sorry baby, I thank you for caring so much.” He whispers sleepily.

“Im always gonna care for my bubs.” Kissing him on the lips, your turn your attention to the bag. The small grey bag had light tissue paper covering the product within the bag. The tissue falls to the floor as you dig into the bag. A silky champagne dress, folded neatly to decrease wrinkles, sits in the bag. The dress was soft and you knew it was loose enough to give you the room to dance. Soft snores escaped the boy beside you- the exhaustion evident on his face.

You pull the dress out of the bag and walk over to where his outfit of the night hung. The dress was hung beside his to be steamed for later. Turning around, you smile at the sight of your curled up boyfriend. Your heart hurt knowing that in a few minutes he would have to go rehearse.

Harry sleepily went through rehearsals sitting in a chair the whole time. He knew his stage cues and performance, he only had one more thing to rehearse but it required for you to not be in the room. He gave one look to Jeff to signal him to get you out. Jeff made up some excuse saying that he needed help with some social media post for the show.

Before the show, there was a catered dinner from some local restaurant. Harry ate a light meal of fresh vegetables and a sweet iced tea which has grown on him having lived in the states for some years. You ate grilled chicken and fries enjoying the free food. The two of you ate alone in his dressing room- wanting a moment of piece before the crazy.

“How are you feeling?” You ask Harry. He shrugs, he was more nervous than anything but you wouldn’t understand why if he had told that to you. He felt floaty. Tonight would be a game changer, a step in a whole new direction. This is something he’s wanted to do for years now but it’s finally happening, and he’s scared.

"Im ok, a little tired but what else is new. I can't wait to sleep all night and cuddle with you." He grabs your hand from across the table. you squeeze it, frowning at his revelation.

"I don't like that you're so tired." You worry, his hand squeezes yours in reassurance.

“Im ok, it’s all apart if the job.” He looks down to your bare ring finger, thumb brushing over the empty spot. Your nails were done in your favorite way, some funky pattern you found from Pinterest all painted on short coffin nails.

“I love you Harry and I’m so proud of you. I know that these years put us both in a bad place mentally but I’m happy of where we are now.” Harry could almost tear up to your words. They settled into his mind, resonating. He was making the perfect decision and you solidified that ideal.

2014

Harry didn’t know how they did it. A show every night, a new state everyday, a new country every few months- he was burnt out. He was tired of shared tour buses and the lack of autonomy. Last nights LA show was amazing, the crowd was amazing, the energy was amazing- so why did he feel so horrid?

He walked around in The Grove, security guards walking in front and behind him. He wanted a peaceful day alone but here they were. Fans watched suspiciously trying to decipher if it was Harry or not. His hat and sunglasses were obviously not the disguise he thought they would be.

As the whispers got louder, his heart started to flurry more. Panic seeped into his veins as he looked for an escape. Bolting in the Barnes and Nobles- security guards close behind- Harry asked for the employees to close shop just for a moment. Harry only needed a moment to get a car near by to escape to. Feeling overwhelmed, Harry hid.

In between the historical fiction and romance aisle is where he sat. Head between his knees, trying to catch his breathe.

“Are you ok?” A voice asked from above him. His head whipped up in shock. Standing there was you, three books clutched between your arms. Adjusting your dress you dropped down to the floor in front of him.

“I-im fine, tired but fine.” He replied. He looked different than he did the night before, you thought. Last night, he was energetic and full of life and now, now you saw a boy whose exhaustion overpowered him.

“You here for any books?” You were just trying to change the subject, something you did with yourself when you had panic attacks.

“Oh no, I don’t-“ he stuttered shaking his head. You smiled at him before pulling a book from your stack. The fault In Our Stars, your new favorite.

“I love this book, one of my favorites. Heard a movie is coming out too so that’s fun.” You joke. Harry’s relaxed slightly, you nestled closer to him. Opening the book, you began reading, your gentle voice calming Harry.

At the start of chapter four, an interruption pulled you both away. Harry’s security guard told Harry that a car was waiting and the perimeter of the store was clear. Harry nodded telling the guard to give him five more minutes.

“I guess this is it.” You mumble closing your book. Harry nods but makes no move to leave. Something clicks in him as he looks at your face again.

“You were at the concert last night, meet and greet?” He muses.

“Yeah, One Direction is my favorite band. My friend bought our vip tickets for my birthday. Best night ever.” You say quietly, scared that he might think that you’re some obsessed fan.

“Oh, well I’m glad you enjoyed the show….so why didn’t you freak out today or- or expose where I was?”

“You’re a human being, just like me. You get nervous, frustrated, and sad just like me. You get panic attacks just like. Who am I to treat you differently?” Your words did so much for Harry. “Now don’t get me wrong, you’re my favorite in the band, but I don’t idolize you nor do I wish to be in your position cause I know it must be hard.”

“It is. Hard, I mean, really really hard. I love my job but I’m tired.” The silence you two shared burned a connection between you two. “This may be weird but could I have your number? I like talking to you and I wanna hear more of this book.”

Placing your hand made bookmark in the book, you closed in and gently placed it on Harry’s lap. “Have it. I have one at home and if you still want to talk about it- I’ll give you my number.”

Harry stills as the book sits in his lap. “I want to talk to you about the book.”

After exchanging numbers, Harry was urged by you to go. Walking side by side to the door, you were separated by his security.

“Harry, don’t let this keep hurting you. Find the joy and grasp on to it.”

You turned out to be his joy. Calls every night after shows and different books being read together, you both gravitated towards each other. Everyday was a new day to grow closer together. He invited you to more concerts, paying for every ticket because he just needed to be with you.

The show was going beautifully. Harry looked amazing in stage in all white and most fans were captivated by your outfit too. It worried you to see Harry so exhausted on stage but you knew he would stick it through like he always does. Proud was an understatement in your eyes. Harry made you more than proud.

You stood in the back of the watermelon pit at the end of the aisle where his stage stopped a few feet away. Jeff stood beside you like he normally did but he was acting suspicious. You two never stood on the side of Harry’s exit but this is where Jeff said you’d get the best view tonight.

Harry sang his final ‘we’ll be alright’ before doing his stage stroll and bows, but instead of finishing in the middle of the stage- he went down stage to the place he normally exits to at the end of the night. You watched in confusion, along with the crowd, as he walked down the steps to you. The crowd erupted in screams as the lights focused on where you were standing.

“What are you doing?” You asked with large eyes of shock. You felt your heart stop in your chest. The crowd getting louder by the moment. Harry walked closer to you, one hand digging into his pocket while his eyes focused on your face. You couldn’t place what was happening but you’re eyes welled with even more tears nonetheless. Jeff was to the side with a huge smile and his phone out to capture the moment.

“Y/N, my love, my light, the best thing that has happened to me,” he didn’t have his mic on so the crowd couldn’t hear him but you could hear him perfectly. As if you two were the only ones in the large arena, you could only see Harry. “From the moment I met you in the bookstore, I knew you were meant to be in my life. Somehow you took me from my darkest place and guided me to my lightest.

I know our lives have been hard but we’ve always found a way to be alright. I want that for the rest of my life. I want you to be by my side for the rest of my life, so will you please, my love, marry me?”

You gave him no time to answer as you yanked him up by his arm. You wept as you exclaimed loud yeses, yeses that could be heard by a few fans who screamed in excitement igniting the rest of the crowd to scream. Harry picked you up in his arms, throwing one arm out to wave at the crowd before bounding backstage.

“Oh my god Harry!” You exclaimed as he set you down. He only had a few minutes to talk so you kept it quick. You pulled his face down to your kissing his lips. This kiss pulled you both deeper into each other.

He pulled away making you whine. “I gotta go back but I promise you’ll get it all tonight. I can’t believe you said yes. I love you so much.”

Harry’s energy multiplied by 100 going back on stage. He even went as far as to explain what watermelon sugar was about. Remembering when the song was made, it made your legs clench together- a pulse overwhelming your lower regions.

Looking down at your hand, you could feel yourself tear up again at the ring he bought you. It fit perfectly in your hand, you remember him measuring your hand that night even though he thought you were asleep. The thought of your future made your heart swell. A future with new music, a wedding, a nice house, and babies made your heart swell. This was something you couldn’t wait for.

Harry found his joy in you but he never knew about the joy he was to your dark life.

#harry styles love on tour #harry styles x y/n #harry styles smut #harry styles imagine #harry styles fic #harry styles one shot #harry x reader #harry styles x reader #harry styles love on tour nashville

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r0zyp0zy0zy · 3 years

Text

✾❃S.H+D.K- A Bisexual Mess✶

Make a request!

Master list

Warnings: Smut, threesome, spit roasting, suggested poly relationship

Words: 3407

Pairing(s): Kaminari Denki x Sero Hanta x FEM!reader

Summary: Being attracted to your friend is weird, and your boyfriend having a crush on him too is even weirder.

Ok so I might’ve gotten carried away and prepared a basket instead... oops. Enjoy!

Part two

===NSFW UNDER THE CUT===

Sero Hanta always bragged about you to his friends, which wasn't a secret by any means. Well, not a secret to anybody except you. What can he say? You're perfect to him, and who's he to keep that information to himself? He would spew everything he loved about you and more, infuriating Bakugo and making Kaminari jealous.

You didn't mean to eavesdrop, really! Well, not at first. Buuut... your pretty little boyfriend mentioned your name in his conversation with the Bakusquad, and you couldn't help it. You stood quietly outside of your home office— the only place in the house you allowed Hanta to smoke —and leaned as close to the door as you dared.

"She's just so perfect," you broke into a smile at Sero's words.

"Will you stop bragging about y/n-chan?" Kaminari groaned dramatically from within the room, "I almost can't take it anymore! You know that I like her. Stop making me jealous on purpose because I can't have her!"

Your eyes widened slightly at Kaminari's words. He did? Since when? Well, that was a silly thing to think; Kami has probably had a crush on everyone in high school at one point or another. But the fact that he just admitted it to Hanta was straight-up bold.

"Yeah I know," you heard Sero smirk, "ever since you've heard about her magic mouth you've wanted a piece."

"-wha? Wrong. I've had a crush on her longer than that!" Kaminari argued. You could hear Mina in the back cracking up.

"Will you two shut up?!" Bakugo yelled, rattling the door. "Every fucking time I'm here is all 'y/n this' and 'y/n that' ok we gET IT, THE TWO OF YOU ARE IN LOVE WITH HER!"

You stood in their silence for a moment, trying to process that holy shit, the Mega-Virgin Kaminari has a crush on you, even before you sucked Hanta off for the first time! What was happening?

"K'mon, bro," Kirishima chided, and you heard the slap of his hand land on Bakugo's back. "Chill out, take another hit. Y/n-san might pop in if she hears too much noise."

"Whatever, 'tch," Bakugo huffed, "kinda wanna go home anyway, you nerds don't have anything interesting to talk about."

You quietly hurried away to your shared bedroom at the sound of footsteps, pretending that you hadn't just heard Hanta openly talk about your 'magic mouth', and Kaminari's confession. You could still feel the flustered blush on your cheeks as Kirishima and Bakugo walked down the hall to the front door, the latter grumbling about "those damn nerds".

"Wait, guys," Mina called to them, "I don't want to be stuck with those love-sick idiots!"

After Kiri offered to buy the pink girl an Uber home and the front door was shut, all you could hear was the muffled conversation a room over. You snuck back to the office door, and pressed your ear against it.

"-s-stop!" You heard Kaminari stutter.

"Never! It's so fun to make you flustered over my girl," you playfully shook your head at Hanta's words. Typical Sero move.

It was silent for a few minutes, broken soon after with a, "dude! What the hell?" From Hanta.

"I- it's- it's your fault!" Kaminari retorted, apparently spinning around in the squeaky office chair.

"You-," Sero burst out laughing, "you got hard just from me talking about her! Bet it was the part I told you when y/n and I were at that one restaurant-."

"S-shut up!" Kaminari squeaked.

Your face flushed considerably pinker. Right here, right now, were two boys that were sexually attracted to you on the other side of the door. You felt your stomach flip and twist in excitement at the new feeling.

"It's kinda cute that you're so into her," you heard Hanta tease. "You're always a blushing mess, and just stuttering over your words."

"Damn S-sero," Denki said grouchily, "stop making fun of me."

You couldn't help but press your ear completely against the door, the two boys inside were too high to notice the shadow under the door anyway. Was Hanta... Flirting?

"I'm not making fun of you," Sero paused. "I'm just calling you cute."

You drowned out the rest of their conversation with your thoughts, trying to connect dots together. Hanta was a little suspicious at times from what you could see over his shoulder. Suspicious of what, exactly? Being gay, or at least bisexual. You saw him close tabs of soft-core gay porn occasionally, and you even accidentally stumbled upon Sero's old diary from years back. You didn't worry too much about it, but now... was he suppressing his feelings? Was he about to cheat on you?

Your heart dropped at that thought. Hanta was a nice guy and he wouldn't do that to you, right? He wouldn't lie about loving you. Not after what you heard earlier. Or was that just to fluster Kaminari? You shook your head in an attempt to clear your mind, and tuned back in on the two boys.

"-AH—! Wait!" You heard Sero panic, "I didn't- I shouldn't've-!"

".. shouldn't have kissed me?" Denki squeaked quietly so you had to strain to hear.

What on Earth did you miss while you were spaced out?

"Well- I was just thinking about h-how cute you are, and I forgot that I can't kiss someone who isn't my partner!" Hanta stressed, "god why do I have to love both of you..."

Your eyebrows raised at that, and listened in a little harder. Did you hear that right? Sero had a crush on Kaminari?

Honestly you couldn't blame him when the blond was so undeniably attractive, especially with the smudged black eyeliner on the corners of his eyes and the lightning bolt streak in his hair. You wouldn't lie that you liked him a bit too, but you suppressed those feelings for Hanta.

"I- I can go if you want," Kaminari mumbled, voice cracking slightly.

"Er- if you want. I don't mind chilling with you a bit longer. Just— don't tell y/n what happened. I- I'll tell her later when I figure out what to say," Hanta said.

"You sure she won't get mad at you?" Said a concerned Denki. "I know how much you love her, and I don't want you two to break it off.."

"Weeelll," Sero dragged on nervously, "y/n is very understanding, a-and I also need to tell her a few other things anyway."

You headed towards the living room, hearing all you needed to. You honestly didn't exactly know what to think about what just happened. Hanta kissed Denki, who likes you, and you that likes Hanta who also likes Denki. What even.

You sat comfortably on the couch, watching the last of the sun meander under the horizon. You nervously tapped on your phone after playing games on it for about an hour, waiting for Kaminari to leave so you could talk with Hanta. You finally heard the office door open, and you turned your head. Sero shuffled towards you with a sleeping Denki in his arms. The blonde's mouth was wide open and snoring lightly, drool going halfway down his chin.

"Uh," Hanta said awkwardly, "help."

You giggled and jumped up from your to help your boyfriend position Kaminari on the couch, who immediately latched onto a pillow mumbling incoherently.

"Whatta dude," you stated, fists on your hips.

"Yeah..." Hanta scratched the back of his neck. "Uh, I have to talk to you about something. It's pretty serious so we can wait until later if you want."

"Nah," you shook your head, "you've seemed off lately, and I'm guessing you just need it off your chest."

"Well, if you don't mind," Hanta plopped down on the love seat. You kneeled over to lean your head on his knee as he sucked in a shaky breath. "I- Um. I- I think I'm Bi."

You nodded your head understandingly, taking his hand in yours. "Ok, baby. Thank you for telling me."

"—there is o-one more thing I-I have to confess," Sero shook, "just please don't hit or yell at me."

"I would never, baby. I'm here for you," you looked up at him encouragingly, giving him a smile.

"O-ok. Uh, I kinda, well... I kinda kissed Kami. O-on the lips," Hanta's eyes looked away from yours, floating to the floor.

"Do you regret it?" You asked, keeping a calm exterior.

"Uh- I dunno. I do because I'm with you.. but... I- I think I don't," Sero looked incredibly guilty, and he squeezed your hand, "I love you, b-but I also have a crush on him..."

"That's ok," you reassured, reaching up to turn his head back to you, "I don't mind if you want to be in a relationship with him too, separately or not."

Hanta looked incredibly surprised, and a smile split his face, "really?!"

"Yes really," you giggled, kissing his cheek. "I can share you."

Sero, being the genius he was, suggested introducing Denki into the relationship with a threesome. Totally not skipping a few steps or anything.

"Are you sure he'd be willing to do that?" You had asked. "He's a virgin to basically everything."

"Oh, he'd be willing alright," Hanta smirked. "I'll message him about it then?"

"Mhm," you nodded, "it'll be fun. We'll get to tease him."

Denki was freaking out. Actually, he was more than freaking out. He was freaking out and jerking off. Multitasking. He could not believe his eyes when he opened Sero's text message, four glorious words: 'wanna have a threesome?'

Of course, Denki had asked if his friend had been joking or not before opening up his mind to fantasies. He got off rather quickly, though who could blame him. He swore that his libido was abnormally high, because even the thought of you, (and Sero as well), would get him flustered and he would pop a boner.

The next day when he came over, his teeth brushed and pubes trimmed, he stood outside your apartment door for at least a minute before knocking. His mind would keep circling the same thoughts: 'Sero just wants you to embarrass yourself in front of her', 'he told y/n about your crush and now they want to laugh at you', 'holy fuck is this actually happening', and 'I hope Sero actually doesn't mind sharing'.

"Sup, man," Hanta grinned as he opened the door for his blushing crush, a far too casual greeting for the situation about to unfold.

"H-hey," Kaminari grinned back, shuffling inside and slipping off his shoes.

"Y/n's just making up a snack so we can chat before uh, y'know," Hanta held back his blush, already nervous because damn, did Denki put on eyeliner or something? He looked hotter than usual.

"Take a seat in the living room, I'm almost done!" You called from the kitchen as you poured one last cup of tea. You carried the tray of tea and homemade cookies to the coffee table, and sat yourself down on the love seat. You couldn't lie— you were nervous as shit at the moment. You looked up as Hanta led a very flustered and anxious Kaminari behind him, and you gave a comforting wave.

"H-hi," Kaminari squeaked, sitting himself on the couch in front of you. He rubbed the sweat off his hands on his pants, trying to avoid your gaze.

"Hey!" You greeted kindly with a smile.

"Alright so now what," Hanta stated, plopping himself beside Denki only looking slightly nervous.

"We discuss boundaries!" You said cheerfully. You reached over for your cup and took a sip. "Any hard no's?"

"Kaminari's not fucking you," Hanta crossed his arms. "Not yet, I want it to be more special than this..."

Denki choked on his drink, sputtering on his tea.

"Kami, any hard no's?" you steered.

"U-uh not right now," the electric blond stuttered, eyeing Sero nervously.

"Ok great!" You exclaimed, clapping your hands together, "the safe word Hanta and I use is 'soy sauce'."

"That's two-."

"Yeah same difference," you waved Kaminari off. "Anyway, my hard no's are just don't hit me, don't degrade me, and don't choke me out."

The two boys nodded anxiously.

"Holy fuck," Denki muttered as he watched Sero kiss your lips, palming his dick through his jeans. He admired your half undressed state as he feverishly threw off his T-shirt.

Without looking, Hanta held out his hand in a 'come hither' motion, and Kaminari steered over to his friend. Sero pulled away from you for a moment, guiding Denki's shaky hands to your bare waist. Once the two of you continued kissing, Kaminari hugged your waist closer and kissed the side of your neck. Your encouraging moans excited him, and he kissed your skin harder.

Denki's hips couldn't help but rut against your backside, drawing out a soft groan from him. He peered his head up to Sero, who turned to give him a gentle kiss, and Kaminari could feel your saliva on his lips. You turned to face the blonde, leaning forwards to propose a kiss. Denki filled the gap quickly, and met your lips with his. It was a messy kiss, but neither you nor Kami cared. You heard Hanta grumble in your ear, nipping at the cartilage carefully.

Honestly, Denki thought he was being spoiled rotten. You were so soft in his arms, and he swore he could stay like this forever. Sero's nimble fingers snuck to the back of your bra and quickly unclasped it, making Denki suck in a jittery breath.

"Hmmh," you sighed as Hanta cupped your breasts gently, waiting for Denki to desperately ask for a turn.

"You can touch her, Denks," Sero chuckled, leaning over and kissing his friend again.

Denki mumbled into the kiss, and shakily moved to grasp your tits from behind. His cock couldn't help but twitch in his pants as he massaged your nipples softly, his lips still locked with Hanta's. Kami pulled back with a gasp, strings of saliva still attaching them.

"Oh so good," Denki whined as he humped your ass, breathing heavily into your ear.

"Mmm, Denki~ take your pants off for us, won't you?" You licked your lips and watched as Kaminari hobbled out of his skinny jeans.

He looked at you with wide eyes as you sat on your bed, with Sero following suit. Denki moaned when the two of you started making out again, and nervously edged closer to the bed. You smiled at him encouragingly and reached out a hand to play with the elastic of his boxers. A whimper left his throat as you trailed a finger up his clothed shaft, and he eyed Hanta guilty.

"It's ok!" The smiling man replied, helping you get into a better position. "Let loose a little, dude."

Denki wasn't sure he could do that since you were slowly pulling down the hem of his underwear, his cock springing up to slap his stomach before standing straight out. He slipped down his boxers and kicked them away, having full attention on you and your beautiful e/c eyes.

Hanta was massaging your ass cheeks as Denki experienced your mouth for the first time, and he pulled down your panties, (which were soaked, by the way). You moaned against Kami's cock as Sero rubbed the inside of your thighs with his warm hands, causing Denki to let out a lewd groan. His eyes kept switching from you, to Sero, and back to you again.

"So wet for me, y/n," Hanta mumbled, "if I knew you were into this stuff I would've invited Kami over earlier."

You hummed in response, too busy indulging yourself with Denki's dick. You enjoyed making him squirm in his stance, licking over the glans of his cock and the underside of his shaft. You swore you could see his eyes start to water up.

Kaminari was wide eyed as he watched Hanta strip out of his briefs and give himself a few pumps. Denki's mouth opened in a silent moan when Sero lined up to your entrance and slowly inched inside, letting out a low groan when he bottomed out. You hummed diligently on the cock you were sucking and grabbed Denki's hand to put on your head, letting him grasp your hair like reins.

The electric blond babbled quietly as he watched Hanta pump into you, forcing Denki's cock further down your throat. The way your mouth contracted around him made Denki's legs shake, and he got red in the face trying to keep his hands from urging your head deeper.

"You look like you're having a good time, Denks," Sero commented as he admired the blonde's teary eyes. His hips rolled forwards in a new rhythm and you griped pleasantly as you fisted the sheets under you.

"Fuuuck yeah," Kaminari grumbled, catching up with his friend's rhythm. He was over the moon, and was just trying not to cum prematurely so he could enjoy this moment longer.

"Don't be afraid to fuck her face," Hanta said smugly, repositioning his hands on your hips. "She loves choking on cock, ain't that right beautiful?"

You wept in agreement, looking up at Denki with soft, pleading eyes. You bobbed your head faster in his loose grasp, gagging and sputtering on spit and precum. The man above you groaned with satisfaction and fisted your hair and forced his dick deeper into your tight throat. His thrusts came in a perfect rhythm with Sero's, and whenever you moved, you were getting impaled from either end.

Your limbs shook as you struggled to breathe with the cock in your mouth, and your pussy clenched around Hanta desperately. You felt tears stream down your cheeks as you sobbed for breath, enjoying every moment. You nearly squealed as Sero pressed a vibrator against your clit, and your vision fuzzed a bright white.

"Gonna cum, baby?" Hanta egged on, panting for oxygen. "C'mere Den, kiss me."

You whined loudly as you heard the two men kissing above you, and your stomach tightened and rolled around pleasantly. You gurgled on Denki's cock as you came, pussy pulsing with need and delight.

"Fuck, fuck, fuck," Kaminari moaned in tune with his thrusts, so close to the edge that you could practically taste his cum already.

"Oh shit, y/n. You're so— tigHT," Hanta groaned as he rutted against you one more time before you felt his warm cum fill your insides.

Right on cue, Denki hit his peak right after Sero, moaning about how good your mouth felt and how hot you were, "god, Hanta, she looks so fucking good like this."

Denki let out a choked whine as he finally let his orgasm take over his body, and he held your head in place as his semen ran down your throat. You choked it down before Kami pulled away, and you opened your mouth to reveal strings of saliva and cum.

"Holy fucking shit," Denki said, exasperated, "I feel like I'm not gonna go soft for a week."

"You alright, my love?" Hanta said softly as he let you fall onto your chest, ass still up.

"Hell yeah," you mumbled, your voice scratchy and sore from being face-fucked. You watched Kami stand awkwardly as Sero wiped you down with a warm cloth, taking care between your thighs.

"Denki, go get some water please," Hanta instructed as he rolled you over. "You did so good, baby. The best."

You hummed softly in response, already feeling your eyes flutter sleepily. Kaminari held out a straw to you, and you sucked down the cool substance thankfully.

"That was the best blowjob ever," Denki sighed happily, watching Hanta scoop out the cum from your cunt.

"It was your only blowjob, Kami," you mumbled teasingly, a soft smirk on your face.

You felt yourself drift into a calm state, and you could only hear the muffled voices of your boyfriend, and... your other boyfriend? You fell into a comforting, dreamless sleep, and you knew that Denki would make a great addition to your relationship.

#Kaminari Denki #kaminari denki x reader #denki kaminari #denki kaminari smut #denki kaminari x sero hanta #denki kaminari x reader x sero hanta #Sero Hanta #sero hanta x reader #hanta sero #hanta sero x reader #mha #mha fanfiction #mha x reader #bnha #bnha fanfiction #anime

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