#it was a very moving spiel and I’m glad he did it

[are-we-really-doing-this]

I genuinely think the most hostile thing said at Collision was Punk roasting jazz music.

[dorkszn]

SOULLESS + katsuki bakugou

SYNP — after losing your quirk, you had no idea what to do with yourself and katsuki couldn’t help you

WARNINGS — masc reader, suicide, quirk loss, heavy angst | 1.3K

A/N — did i cook, y’all? 🥺

Your quirk was what made you. That was the mentality most people in this world had. It was what you grew up on. You took it seriously. Your quirk defined you.

Katsuki knew this. He understood you. Even he knew he was more than his quirk. He never put you down for it, he just pushed you to work harder.

And you pushed. You pushed and pushed and pushed. Until it all fell to shit.

You don’t process the silencing sound of the gun shooting until you feel the impact. The world slows while simultaneously crumbling around you. You can’t hear. You can’t hear Sir Nighteye shouting, you can’t hear Izuku’s gasp, you can’t hear Togata’s cry. You just feel. Feel a part of you being ripped away.

The bullet sits in your body. And you feel. You feel the gash in your flesh. You feel the blood seeping from the wound. You feel the sting of its penetration. Then you feel the strength drain from you. You pushed too far.

Everyone described your time in the hospital as uncharacteristic and silent. The only time you spoke was when Katsuki visited you. And he felt. He felt the emptiness radiating from you. Even then, you sat in quietness as you attempted to tell him how you were feeling. Empty. Weak. Soulless.

He couldn’t treat you like everyone else. For one of the first times in his life, he knew, a quirkless person was nothing less than him. He had to treat them right. He had to treat you right. Which he did of course.

Your mental and emotional condition always hurt him. Always made him feel like a piece of him was missing. Even when you were allowed to return to your training. When you’d help him with his special moves or by sitting on his back while he did pushups.

It was a mental trick. It was supposed to make you feel like you were back. It was supposed to make people see you and smile and pat you on the back. Giving you “good job!” and “we’re glad to see you back.” But you weren’t back. You weren’t anything. And nobody knew. Nobody knew until Katsuki and Aizawa did.

A normal day of physical therapy while everyone else was training. One where Katsuki requested to come with you and one where Aizawa sat in with you. Your arm wasn’t functioning like before. No part of you was. Not your mind, heart, or soul, if it was even still there.

The physical therapist gave you your usual spiel before leaving you with the two men.

“The way you’re taking this ain’t very heroic, you know?” Aizawa told you, taking a seat next to you on the bench. He put a comforting hand on your head, pulling you close to him.

Your words struck through the two like the bullet that hit you. The bullet that robbed you. “I’m not a hero anymore. I’m nothing.”

That’s when the two realized. You weren’t the same. The hero you were and the person you were now, were completely different.

Katsuki saw the signs. He knows he did. His only mistake was not knowing what to do about them. He had sick thoughts. He thought maybe if Izuku had gone through with his words, he’d know the signs. He’s grateful that Izuku is alive and well but a bit upset that he didn’t have the experience he needed.

You zoned out often, stayed in your dorm all the time, slept in class, and barely spoke at lunch, you wouldn’t text with your old spark and enthusiastically run up to him after school. He missed you. Not any more than he does now but he did. Even though you were right there. Like you were just a body floating its way through life.

He told Aizawa. Aizawa said to give you time. Katsuki doesn’t blame him. Not entirely. He couldn’t have known. But giving you time was the wrong move. Giving you time was the last thing you needed.

Katsuki knows he should’ve been smarter the day you gave him a letter. An envelope that you didn’t want him to open until the next day. Aizawa got one too. So did Hitoshi. And Izuku. But none of them thought anything of it. Just a way for you to get the words you couldn’t say out.

Katsuki should’ve known after seeing the way you grinned around everyone and stayed by his side all day. But he was stupid. He thought you were getting better.

Dear, Katsuki Bakugou.

Katsuki. I love you more than anything in this lifetime. I am forever grateful for what you’ve given me. My life has gone so much better than I ever expected because of you. I want to give you the world. I tried. I tried really hard. But I can’t. Everything feels dull and nothing feels right. I feel trapped and I don’t feel like myself. And I can’t get out of this slump. Being here feels like being dead. I’m not here. I know this would hurt to text you or say to your face. I can’t think of those eyes of yours without it hurting me. Nothing is your fault. Never. Thank you, Katsuki. I love you in this life and beyond. Take your time, hold your ground, and become the best. I’m rooting for you. I’ll see you on the other side or in another life. I know if I become myself again, I will always find you.

Love, your dumbass, y/n l/n.

The wind rushed past you. Everything looked so different from your view. The same scenery you’d be taking in for the past few months sits ahead of you but it looks different. It feels nice. Maybe because this was the last time you’d see it.

The ground glares up at you, it’s pavement calling to you. The moonlight shines on your skin, casting your shadow on the rooftop of the dorms. You try to smile. To take it in one last time. But you can’t. Your mind won’t let you. Whatever was left of your soul won’t let you.

You just take a deep breath. And feel. You feel the bullet breaking your flesh and shattering your bone. You feel Katsuki’s warmth surrounding you. You feel Aizawa’s hand on your head. You feel and feel and feel. Before you fall.

It only took minutes after sunrise before you were found. An unlucky student stumbles across a corpse. Their blood-curdling scream immediately grabbed the whole world’s attention. It only took hours for them to collect you and identify you.

After that, it only took minutes for it to be announced to the class. It only took seconds for Katsuki to unwillingly break down. As fast as the bullet ripped your quirk from you, his soul, his mind, and his heart were ripped from him.

It only took seconds for the pity and grief to intoxicate the room. Poisoning every first year and teacher at the school. It only took days for Katsuki to finally convince himself to read the letter. It only took seconds for him to break down again and be pulled into Aizawa’s chest.

It only took a week for Katsuki’s world to crumble.

He visits you through the snowy days and warm nights. Sitting in front of your stone and replacing your flowers. Your soul is long gone and it feels as if his was too. The picture of you in his t-shirt, stupidly grinning at the camera stares into him. And he feels. He feels the hurt. He feels the pain. He feels your warmth. He feels your missed presence. He feels and he feels and he feels. Until he doesn’t think he can anymore.

“You weren’t nothing, y/n. You were everything.” He pushed the words out.

[luveline]

i’ve been needing some more Spence in my life can I request something w him very fluffy and soft and lovely and wonderful I have no plot I’m so so sorry but you’re a genius please pick up my slack<333

thank u for ur request angel! fem!reader

Spencer is surprising, occasionally. He must have really missed you while you were apart, all five days and seven hours, because he pulls you so tightly into his arms upon seeing you that your heels lift up from the floor. Your laugh is a squeal and you scramble to keep purchase, clinging to him rather than have your full weight topple him over. 

"Hey, Spence!" you say brightly. "You didn't text me to say you were back! What's up with that?" 

"I knew you'd be here. Didn't wanna waste time texting," he says, sounding just as happy as you, his face crushed to the side of your head, the bridge of his nose against your ear. 

"Ah, because texting slows down the speed of the car you're in," you tease, moving back onto proper footing. It creates a gap between your faces, enough to see how tired he looks. 

Spencer hums and smiles despite his dark circles. It's a very vulnerable expression, almost hopeful. Sometimes you think he's worried that, in your time apart, your affection has lessened for him, like a few days is enough to realise he's not worth it. But that would never happen, because he's more than worth it. He deserves to know that. 

You stroke hair out of his face softly with your pinky finger, tucking it behind his ear, your hand pausing against his neck. "I'm glad you're home safe. I can stop worrying about you." 

"For a few days," he says with a wince. 

"Lucky me," you say sincerely. 

He dives in for another hug. You think you might love that most about him, how when he's missed you, all that he wants is to be close to you, choosing a hug over a kiss nine times out of ten. He's a little taller than you and you feel it in moments like this, his arm behind your neck to lock you in, his lips pressed to the highest point of your cheek. 

"It's concerning to me that you didn't hear me come in," Spencer says. "And that you didn't lock your door. You know forty percent of home invasions happen during the day?" 

"I wish I didn't know that now," you say. "You'd protect me, though." 

"With what?" he asks incredulously. 

You giggle and lean away from his embrace. He sounds genuinely confused as to what you're expecting from him, which is funny —he's a special agent for the FBI. "Just because you don't bring a gun home doesn't mean you can't look after us, Spence. I've heard all the stories, remember." 

"Exaggerated by Rossi after a glass of Chambertin." 

He's laughing by the time he finishes his sentence, infected by your giddy smile, his arms settling now behind your back. He hasn't quite mastered the art of casual intimacy; every touch from him is loaded with meaning and sincerity alike. 

You look up into his face. "I trust you, but I'll lock the door next time. Is it really forty percent? That seems high." 

Spencer loads up a spiel of statistics for you, listing them succinctly but interweaving correlations he clearly thinks you'll find interesting. He doesn't gloss over the scary stuff or the convoluted math. You're reeling by the time he's done. But happy, completely, in the circle of his arms. 

"I missed you," you say. 

Spencer looks surprised. "I missed you more," he says, matter-of-fact. 

You shake your head gently. "No. You didn't." 

Spencer dips his head down for a soft kiss. Your eyes shutter closed, your hand leaping for his cheek. He kisses you so sweetly that you think, Maybe he did miss me more. 

His thumb presses into your hip, his kiss ramping in urgency, and you fail to think about anything after that. 

[sunshine-overload]

[BSTS] Kokuyou Birthday 2024 4* Card Story

chapter 1 -starless hallway-

kokuyou: Oh so you’re here today huh? Come to enjoy my hospitality this month have you?

saki: Wah?

kokuyou: I’m talking about the special butler service we’ll be doing for my birth month. I figured I should at least get used to the outfit first. Not like I’ve got much choice. I’m too old to be throwing a fit and saying I don’t wanna do it.

saki: That’s very mature of you.

kokuyou: But still, last year we all made merry choosing presents and this year we’re cosplaying butlers? As usual, the way this store works ain’t normal.

saki: (I can’t imagine Kokuyou-san acting like a proper butler and serving guests like that at all.)

kokuyou: What’s with that strange look you’re giving me? Anyways, look forward to it, yeah?

saki: Huh?

kokuyou: You’re way to easy to read. C’mon, I’ll escort you to your seat.

-starless restaurant area-

kokuyou: Here’s the menu. I’ll attend to the other guests while you decide what you’d like to order. Is that ok?

saki: Ah, yes. That’s fine.

kokuyou: Sorry, I’ll be right back.

-koku moves to another guest-

kokuyou: Hey, you’re a regular aren’t you? Your seat is this way, follow me.

-koku moves to another guest-

kokuyou: I don’t need to give you a long welcome spiel do I? So, what do you wanna order?

Got it, I’ll bring it out once it’s ready… What, you think I’m lacking as a butler? I’m missing a my butler’s smile? Hah, you must still be half asleep. That’s not what you really want from me is it?

saki: (H-he’s killing it out there!)

-koku moves to another guest-

kokuyou: I see your glass is empty. What would you like for your next drink? You’ll leave it to me? I’ll make sure to get you something real exciting then.

Yeah of course it’ll be low on the alcohol, the show hasn’t even started yet after all.

Ah sure, you can take one quick photo. I’m only giving this kinda service while it’s my birthday month, so you better enjoy it.

-

chapter 2 -starless lobby-

saki: (I wonder if Kokuyou-san is still in the restaurant area?)

-cg

kokuyou: You’re still here? I thought you’d gone home already. Today’s butler service has already ended I’m afraid, all the guests have left. Or did you forget your bag or something?

saki: No, but I did forget to say something… Happy Birthday, Kokuyou-san. I’m glad I got to celebrate such a special day with you.

kokuyou: …Yeah, thanks.

kokuyou: ……..

kokuyou: Hey, do you still have some time?

saki: Hm? Yes.

kokuyou: Wait there in that seat then.

-koku leaves-

saki: (Kokuyou-san…? I wonder what he’s doing.)

-time pass, koku returns-

kokuyou: —I am most sorry for the wait, my lady.

saki: …!?

kokuyou: Please enjoy this drink. I prepared it just for you, Miss Saki.

saki: Wh- Huuuh…!?

kokuyou: Tonight please allow me to take care of whatever it is that you wish.

saki: I couldn’t make you do that…! Um, Kokuyou-san…?

kokuyou: …Pfft, how come you’re freaking out? I’m a butler at the moment, right? So you should act the part too.

saki: Huh!?

kokuyou: So, my lady. What is it that you desire?

choice:

Have tea together / Don’t be unreasonable! / Excuse yourself

>have tea together

saki: Would you like to join me for some tea?

kokuyou: Very well. Then, please allow me to take the seat beside you.

saki: O-of course…!

-koku sits down-

kokuyou: Hahahah, we’re both pretty bad at this huh? You can’t stay in character at all.

saki: That’s because you sprung this on me so suddenly, I couldn’t help but be surprised!

kokuyou: I think that should do it. I had just been planning to entertain you a little as thanks for the birthday wishes but I ended up having fun myself.

I don’t consider my birthday to be anything special, its just another normal day like any other. However, it wasn’t half bad hearing you congratulate me. So thanks, Saki.

I’ll make sure to properly play my part as your butler for the rest of the month, so come and visit the store whenever you feel like it. I’ll have to say this every time won’t I?

“Welcome back, my lady.”

—end

other choices:

>don’t be unreasonable

saki: Hmph! You’re being unreasonable!

kokuyou: Hah… My deepest apologies. Please grant me your forgiveness, my lady.

saki: Oh, no! I’m sorry too— Ah, wait, oops…

kokuyou: Hahahah, we’re both pretty bad at this huh? You can’t stay in character at all.

>excuse yourself

saki: Please excuse me.

kokuyou: What are you saying, my lady?

saki: Uhh… I can’t think of anything else to say…!

kokuyou: Hahahah, we’re both pretty bad at this huh? You can’t stay in character at all.

[writtenontheport]

Walk Me Home?

George Karim x (gn) Reader

Pt. 4: Somewhere in Between (pt. 1) (pt. 2) (pt. 3)

Warnings/Tags: Bit description heavy, Lockwood and co friendship, Shorter than usual I’m so sorry 😭, This part is more of like… it’s a buildup to the next part, That part oooooh I have something for it!!, Quite a few things actually, but this part is mostly build up, Rising Action kinda move 🤞, Mild arguing and swearing, Slow Burn (LMAO!!) , The characters are quite ooc in this one, They are all INCREDIBLY SILLY ⚠️⚠️⚠️⚠️

Notes: I usually write longer I promise it’s just that I’ve been struggling to write a bit!! Mostly why I took that break yesterday, but I needed to at least get this lore important part out 🤞🤞 I needed reader to meet Lucy and Lockwood for what I’m scheming to do in the next part… This series is SO self indulgent my silly ass is cackling. I imagined book Lockwood and his silly ass and couldn’t stop thinking about the characters acting as genuine, embarrassing people and like— I’m sorry Lucy my love… you got sillified.

Summary: You meet George’s friends and it goes as well and as horribly as he thought it would. Just for today, the library can rest.

When George first introduced you to Lucy and Lockwood, he already knew you all would hit it off. At first you were nervous; your smile wobbly as you kept yourself small, so George linked pinkies with you and didn’t let go until he was sure you were ok. From the corner of his eye he could see your expression turn soft and adoring, grateful in the way you tighten your knuckle around his. From there you found enough confidence to ease yourself into their dynamics.

Lucy adored having you around. George wondered if having her whole life defined by the problem made her crave for some sense of what normalcy they were owed growing up. He was lucky enough to find it with you in the library and in cobble-steeped walks before curfew, but Lucy’s never really had that with anyone.

Watching you both chatter away from him and Lockwood, he’s glad she could find it in you, too. She seemed relaxed whenever she sat beside you, and her voice was filled with more wonder than he had heard since they’d met. Often times, Lucy would whisper something that had you ducking your head coyly, avoiding George’s eyes. He didn’t know what that was about, but the self-satisfied smirk Lucy had after made him rather suspicious.

Lucy would tell him (after he had walked you home) that he did good finding you and confirmed that she had immediately been taken with you and wanted to be friends. Something in George felt reassured when she insisted ‘only friends’, but she did so with a teasing smile that had him glaring at her playfully.

Lockwood took to treating you like you’ve always been one of them, ever kind and charming as he always was. He was fascinated with news about the world at large (ever the gossip), and seemed to eat up anything you could tell him about what life was like without ghosts on the streets. Whenever Lucy wasn’t hogging you, Lockwood was either having you tell your own anecdotes or sharing his newspaper clippings. He certainly looked the part of a child dragging about their new friend to play, puffing his chest proudly with every framed photo he showed off.

When George asked him about what he thought of you, Lockwood clicked his tongue and whined at him for not bringing you sooner. That was a very good sign, but it was terrible for George because Lockwood had gone a 30 minute spiel about who knows what (George tuned him out at some point early on).

A lot of the time you spent visiting, though, the two of them teased you and George as they asked for the details George refused to share. It surprised you to know that he hadn’t even told them about the nature of your first meeting before he mimed zipping his mouth shut and you grinned.

“Yes, well, I’ve actually forgotten,” You hummed, linking your pinky with George’s under the table.

You all moved to the dining table near the end of your visit to Portland Row, eating biscuits and drinking tea. George made sure to tell you about the one biscuit rule, but occasionally turned a blind eye when Lucy or Lockwood offered you an extra. They shot him knowing looks he refused to meet while he focused on the comfort of your voice.

“Really?” Lucy asks amusedly, raising a brow, “From the one thing George’s told us, it doesn’t sound forgettable.”

“What’d he say about it?” You were genuinely curious, leaning in with a wide smile.

Lockwood, ever excitable, added, “Well, it was very strange. Said something about owing you shoes apparently? You don’t suddenly owe someone new shoes just after meeting them.”

“George has never owed me shoes,” You balk, turning to eye George, “And he should know it absolutely wasn’t his fault what happened to my shoes.”

George simply sips on his tea as his pinky squeezes at yours, your searching gaze softening into a smile.

“Have you seen a ghost yet?” Lockwood asks, a bit out of the blue.

Beside you, George cuts him off with a stern reply and Lucy leans in to whisper to you in the midst of George’s and Lockwood’s argument.

“Has he actually not shown you any ghosts yet? I would have thought he might’ve. ” Her eyes twinkled in mischief.

“I haven’t seen a single ghost since meeting George. Mind taking me to see one one day, Lucy? Let’s leave these two bickering and have a day of our own,” You suggested, reaching over the table to offer a hand.

She takes it, and with a smirk says, “Any day, just tell me when and where.”

Little did you know that there was a ghost right under your nose in a little glass jar somewhere in the house; that she had meant that literally.

Lucy and Lockwood send you and George off like kids do with Santa after Christmas; George can’t seem to get enough of your smile all the while. He doesn’t deign the two’s teasing with a response before he’s grabbing your hand and dragging you down the sidewalk away from them, giggling and laughing as you rushed along.

Neither of you bring up the fact that this was entirely new, you simply slid your hand into his proper and followed along with a coy grin. George did the best he could to hide the growing uptick of his lips by keeping his eyes away from where yours focused on him fully.

“That went well,” George says, clearing his throat. You bit your lip and shrugged, bumping his shoulder with yours in a motion that has him glaring at you. It’s a playful thing as much as it is a warning, and try as he might you know damn well George could easily find ways to get back at you if you pulled a prank on him. The glaring eases up quickly, but the tenderness in his eyes doesn’t; it’s almost dizzying if it wasn’t so adoring.

“Lucy promised to take me to see a ghost one of these days,” You hum, watching his expression fall into absolute vehemence.

“Absolutely not. I already have to deal with those two risking their lives every case already.”

“It won’t be on a case…” You grumble under your breath, kicking at a stray rock he watches tumble far off to the side. “I wouldn’t want to get in the way of your work like that. Plus, you could come! I’m sure Lucy won’t mind.”

He pretends to think on it, shrugging with his brows raised in the little motion that says he could be convinced. It’s a good enough sign for you when he finally concedes; “As long as Lockwood doesn’t come with. He’d somehow convince us all to make it some suicidal mission to take down London’s ghosts for fame again.”

“Again?” You balk, squeezing George’s hand in worry, “George, what do you mean again?”

A/N: I know I usually start and end it off at the library and at reader’s (temporary) home, but I just… I had to get this meeting out for now!! I needed reader to meet Lucy and Lockwood it was important!!! I promise this is plot relevant

[istayawakereading]

Ok but Evelyn having undiagnosed ADHD makes so much sense!!

- her having so many interests that kinda fizzled out and went nowhere : Jack of a trades, master of none situation. This is like the ADHD experience; starting something that you think is going to be your new hobby, and maybe it is for a while, but then all of a sudden it doesn’t hold your attention anymore, bring you joy, or you just couldn’t get into it (I myself am terrible at if I’m not good at it immediately I find a different thing to try) and so you move onto the next and then the next and the next and that just keeps happening.

- struggling to stay organized and on top of all the paperwork and receipts needed for her taxes; it also seems like this was maybe a very Last Minute™️ rush to get everything to together and prepared which indicates it was put off, and we all know that ADHD is procrastination central.

- She also has issues communicating her emotions and maintaining her relationship not only with her daughter but also her husband, which is a main part of the movie but also like, people with ADHD also struggle with communication and the maintenance it takes to keep a good relationship with someone

- the way she snaps/gets short with people easily (I can’t think of an example right now but I know it happens) just SCREAMS emotional dysregulation

Anyway with more thought I could probably go on, these are just my quick thoughts, but as someone who got diagnosed with ADHD late in life too I’m so glad people are thinking more about how many adults there probably are that are undiagnosed, and that these considerations are helping people find their own diagnosis! Very happy for Daniel to hear that after his diagnosis and subsequent therapy he’s doing much better; I know how emotional and difficult it is to start thinking you might have it and to go through the diagnosis process, and I recognize that not everyone even has the chance to get diagnosed (I think self diagnosis is valid!!) and that I’m very privileged to have been able to get my official diagnosis too.

BASICALLY WHAT THIS WHOLE SPIEL IS ABOUT is that this has made me love the movie even more than I did before, which I didn’t think was even possible.

I don’t know! We’ll see what the next movie makes me realize about myself. It’s kind of- It’s, I don’t know. I’m so lucky I get to work out this trauma and stuff like that on the big screen. It’s bizarre! But I’m glad you connected with it all.

Daniel Kwan, Co-Director of Everything Everywhere All At Once (2022) | Everything Everywhere All At Once World Premiere Q&A from SXSW 2022

[author-jenaya-malloren]

Forever and Always (OC x Loki)

Chapter 4: The Talk

Previous Chapter Master List Next Chapter

Words: 3,522

TW: Some "bullying" from Loki.

Loki is taken by armed guards to a cell within the helicarrier. A cell originally meant to hold Dr. Banner should he turn into the Hulk. The team: Dr. Banner, Thor, Romanov, and Archer are meeting in a confined space just off the bridge. They hear Fury on their screens. “In case it’s unclear. If you try to escape, if you so much as scratch that glass.” The floor underneath Loki’s cell opens, causing the wind to blow fiercely into the room. Loki moves to the edge of the cell to peer down. “It’s a thirty thousand feet straight down in a steel trap. You get how this works?” Fury pushes a few buttons to close the floor underneath Loki’s cell. Loki politely listens as Fury finishes his spiel. Fury gestures to Loki, “Ant,” and then to the control panel, “Boot.” Loki laughs when Fury is finished, backing up in his cell towards the middle. “It’s an impressive cage. Not built, I think, for me.”

“Built for something a lot stronger than you.” Fury says tiredly. With a mischievous gleam in his eye as he turns to the camera watching him, “Oh, I’ve heard. A mindless beast. Makes play he’s still a man. How desperate are you that you call on such lost creatures to defend you?” Archer watches her team become uneasy with Loki’s words. Agent Romanov eyes Dr. Banner, and Dr. Banner shrinks. Thor just standing there not watching the video and listening. Cap is just watching as if analyzing Loki’s motives through his body language and words. Loki moves back to the edge of the cell where Fury is standing just outside. “How desperate am I?” Comes the question from Fury, as Loki turns to give Fury his attention. “You threaten my world with war. You steal a force you can’t hope to control. You talk about peace, and you kill because it’s fun. You have made me very desperate. You might not be glad that you did.” “Ooh. It burns you to have come so close.” Loki responds. “To have the Tesseract, to have power, unlimited power. And for what? A warm light for all of mankind to share. And then to be reminded what real power is.” Fury gives Loki a small smirk as he begins to walk away. “Well let me know if ‘real power’ would like a magazine or something.” Loki walks back to look into the camera before the footage goes black.

“He really grows on you, doesn’t he?” Dr. Banner breaks the ice. “He’s gonna drag this out.” Cap shares his observation. “So, Thor, what’s his play?” “He has an army called the Chitauri.” Thor who was facing away from the team turns back. “They’re not of Asgard nor any world known.” “What is he planning on using the Chitauri for?” Archer asks. “He means to lead them against your people. They will win him the Earth, in return, I suspect, for the Tesseract.” Cap deadpans. “An army from outer space.” “So, he’s building another portal.” Dr. Banner points out. “That’s what he needs Erik Selvig for.” “I’m sure Selvig is not trying to destroy the earth of his own accord.” Thor nods. “I want to know why Loki let us take him. He’s not leading an army from here.” Cap places his elbows on the table and clasps his hands, as if in prayer. “I don’t think we should be focusing on Loki. That guy’s brain is a bag full of cats. You can smell crazy on him.” “Dr. Banner.” Archer begins to chastise. She doesn’t know why she’s defending him, but Dr. Banner speaking badly about Loki left a sour taste in her mouth. “Have care how you speak. Loki is beyond reason but he’s of Asgard. And he’s my brother.” “He killed eighty people in two days.” Agent Romanov flatly informs Thor. “He’s adopted?” Thor begins to backtrack. I think it’s about the mechanics. Iridium, what do they need the iridium for?” Dr. Banner tries to brainstorm. “It’s a stabilizing agent.” Tony walks into the room with Coulson and says a few more words to him before Coulson walks away. “It means the portal won’t collapse on itself like it did at SHIELD. No hard feelings, Point Break. You’ve got a mean swing.” Thor looks at Tony with confusion after Tony taps on Thor’s bicep a few times. “Also, it means the portal can open as wide and stay open as long as Loki wants.” Tony walks over to Fury’s computers. “Raise the mizzenmast. Jib the topsails.” Those who are working on the consoles look at Stark also with confused faces.

“That man is playing Galaga. He thought we wouldn’t notice, but we did.” Tony covers his right eye with his hand before putting it back down. “How does Fury even see these?” “He turns.” Archer answers. “Sounds exhausting,” Tony admits as he goes to a console. “The rest of the raw materials Agent Barton can get his hands on pretty easily. The only major component he still needs is a power source of high-energy-density. Something to kick-start the Cube.” “Stark, when did you become an expert in thermonuclear astrophysics?” Archer questions. “Last night. The packet, Selvig’s notes, the extraction theory papers. Am I the only one who did the reading?” “Does Loki need any particular kind of power source?” Cap asks while ignoring the last bit of Tony’s rant. “He would have to heat the Cube to one hundred twenty million Kelvin just to break through the Coulomb barrier.” “Unless Selvig has figured out how to stabilize the quantum tunneling effect.” Tony walks over to Dr. Banner. “Well to do that, he could just achieve heavy-ion fusion at any reactor on the planet.” “Finally, someone who speaks English.” Tony shakes Dr. Banner’s hand. “Is that what just happened?” Cap defeatedly asks into the room. Tony and Dr. Banner speak by themselves for a minute before Fury announces his entrance into the room, “Dr. Banner is only here to track the Cube. I was hoping you might join him.” “I would start with that stick of his. It may be magical, but it works an awful lot like a HYDRA weapon.” “I don’t know about that, but it is powered by the Cube. And I would like to know how Loki used it to turn two of the sharpest men I know into his personal flying monkeys.” Fury changes the suggestion. “Monkeys? I do not understand.” Thor turns back to the group. Cap excitedly, “I do. I understood that reference.” “Thor, Flying Monkeys are from a story called the Wizard of Oz.” Dr. Banner and Stark leave the room.

“Agent Archer, I want you to talk to Loki and see if you can drag out from him what his plans are. I’m putting you up as his guard.” “He’s already in a cell with a camera where we can watch him. Why does he need a guard?” Thor turns from Fury. “No offense to you Lady Archer, but shouldn’t someone stronger be in charge of watching him?” “Because in case his plans involve his escape, we need someone to be present who can keep him in a cage.” Archer looks to Thor. “No offense taken. For some reason, Loki has had several opportunities to kill me and didn’t. Plus, besides you, out of the rest of us, I’ve been around Loki the most.” “Go ahead and go Agent.” “Yes sir.” Archer gets up from her chair and makes a stop in her quarters. Archer leaves her quarters with Tony waiting just outside her door leaning on the wall. “Tony, what are you doing?” “I just wanted to give you a few things before you go on guard duty.” Tony hands her some round metal material. “What are these?” “These are magic suppressors. Just in case you need to keep Loki from doing magic.” “Thank you, Tony.” He nods and lets Archer get to her charge. Loki looks up with a smile as she walks in. “To what do I owe this pleasure, Midgardian?” “Thought you may be bored, so I brought some of my favorite books for you.” Archer passes the books over to Loki. “And I’ve been assigned to guard you.” “You? A weak Midgardian woman? You think you can guard me?” Loki sneers. Archer gives him a warm smile. “You know, you can’t judge a book by its cover. Maybe I’ll surprise you.” “I doubt that.” The door to the room in which Loki and Archer is opened as SHIELD agents bring in a cot, a blanket, and a pillow. “Thank you. That will be all.” Archer dismisses the agents. They walk out the door they came in. Archer goes to her console screen and begins to type. “Why are you being kind to me? I could have killed you a few days ago when we first met and again yesterday in Germany.”

“Honestly Loki, I don’t think you wanted to kill me. Otherwise, you would have when you had the chance. Now if you don’t mind, I’d like to get as much sleep as I can. So good night.” Archer climbs onto the cot, covers herself with the blanket, and dozes off after a while. The helicarrier begins to jerk as if it’s trying to dodge something. “What’s going on now?” Archer groans under her breath as she gets up. “Archer, we have hostiles dressed as agents. Do not let Loki out of your sight.” Fury radios to Archer. “Copy that.” Archer rushes to the control panel and begins typing furiously on it in case of worst-case scenarios. Then it happens. “This is Agent Romanov. We have a green problem.” “Archer, fly Loki and yourself to safe house Beta.” Fury orders. “Yes sir.” Archer pushes the button to separate the cell room from the rest of the helicarrier. “Get ready for a rough ride.” Once enough clearance for Archer to clear away from the helicarrier, she takes a nosedive towards the Earth. “Are you trying to get us killed?” Loki calls as Archer is timing the maneuver. “The opposite,” Archer replies as she pulls up and evens out the aircraft. “You remember me saying how you can’t judge a book by its cover? That’s why you don’t judge me prematurely. Also, your plan to cause a distraction so you can break out has failed.” She proudly points out. Loki looks at Archer with a fire of anger in his eyes. Archer yawns and Loki’s face softens. This is something Archer notices but thinks nothing of it because it doesn’t mean anything. Right? She must be imagining it. “How many hours have you been awake? However long it’s been, get some rest. I promise I won’t attempt to escape.” Archer teases Loki, “That’s what someone who would try and escape while I’m sleeping would say. I’ll be fine until we get to the safe house.” “The dark circles under your eyes tell me a different story.”

“These dark circles all come from chasing you for a while. Your fault. But I’ll be fine. I am still a hundred percent coherent.” Archer returns her attention to flying. “I appreciate your concern Loki. It’s sweet. But I am much stronger than I look.” “I haven’t seen much of that strength.” Archer sighs and turns the aircraft onto autopilot. “When I was born, the doctors gave my parents the worst news. I wouldn’t be able to see, hear, walk, talk, or be mentally here. Hell, they told my parents I would be lucky to make it past the age of five.” Loki stares at Archer wide-eyed. He is beginning to realize his error in possibly underestimating her. “My dad played a song and I reacted to it, so my parents knew I wasn’t deaf. My parents put their fingers in front of my face, and I followed it, so then they knew I wasn’t blind. Time would tell if I would be able to walk, talk, or be mentally here. But here I am. I have walked and talked to you. I was able to get out of danger as soon as Fury gave the order. So, as you can see, I am a fighter and much stronger than you know.” The aircraft is silent apart from the sound of the engine and the wind. “I was out of line for what I said earlier. I am sorry.” Loki apologizes. “There is nothing to apologize for. You didn’t know.” “Still, I should not have said what I did, or assumed I had you figured out.” “If it makes you feel better, I was never upset. But I’ll accept your apology.” Archer and Loki safely land on farmland in a place far from cameras and anything connected to a satellite. They are now far away from anyone who may recognize Loki. Archer enters Loki’s cell and puts the magic suppressors on his wrists. Tony was able to get a working prototype working just in time. “Are these necessary?” Loki pouts but doesn’t resist. He knows why she feels they are necessary. “Until I feel, I can trust you won’t kill me or cause any headaches for me, your ability to use illusions and magic is nullified.” Archer looks up into Loki’s eyes. “Your eyes, there’s not as dark a blue. Wait, were you being mind-controlled as well?” “In a way.” Loki answers while looking back into Archer’s eyes. “But being away from the spear’s influence, I think it’s weakening. I am beginning to feel like myself again, without this shadow overtaking my thoughts.” Archer nods as she turns to walk inside, “Let’s go inside and get settled in.” Loki puts his hands on Archer’s shoulder and jolts her back into him after she walks through the threshold, he lets her go. “What was that for?” Loki walks to the wall with a small hole. “You were almost killed.” “I guess Director Fury didn’t have time to put the security away before we arrived. Thank you, Loki.” Loki grunts that he heard her but doesn’t respond. “It’s nearly seven at night and we flew for a few hours. Are you hungry? I can make something if you’d like. All of the SHIELD safehouses are fully stocked.”

“I’m not hungry.” Loki’s lips move, but his stomach growls expose his lie. “Liar. Good thing your stomach tells me the truth. Give me fifteen or twenty minutes and we’ll eat.” Archer walks into the kitchen. The kitchen was very spacious. Lots of natural light can come in, the appliances were updated and top of the line. Everything Archer needed to cook was on hand. “This kitchen is so much better than my apartment’s.” Archer drools. Loki follows Archer in and chuckles at her excitement as he sits down at the island. “I’m thinking something simple and quick, like scrambled eggs. I can get some bacon and toast going too.” Archer begins her work by cracking several eggs and scrambling them and mixing in some seasonings. She puts the bacon in the oven and toasts some bread. “Does this house happen to have any water?” “It does.” Archer walks to the fridge and throws a water bottle at Loki. She grabs one for herself. Archer plates the food for Loki and puts it in front of him. She loosens the restraints so he can eat easier. Loki finishes, “This dish, I like it.” He picks up the plate and throws it on the ground. “Another.” “I thought you were a prince.” Archer teases as she gets up and grabs a broom. “I am.” “You aren’t behaving like one. You could have kindly asked for more instead of creating a mess.” Loki gets up and tries to take the broom. “I’ll clean it up. It is my mess.” “I got it, but next time, you’re cleaning up your mess. Give me a second and I’ll grab you another plate.” Loki doesn’t argue. He walks back to the island. Archer throws the broken shards of the old plate away and hands Loki a new plate of food once it’s made. Once both have finished eating Archer takes their dishes and loads them into the dishwasher, “Can I trust you not to kill me if I keep your wrists loose?” “Yes.” Archer knows from her talk with Thor, Loki is a pathological liar. However, she’s getting a feeling she can trust him. “Okay. Prove to me that I can trust you.” Loki’s eyes study Archer’s. He’s trying to see if she’s playing a game to get him to trip or if she’s being genuine. “You’re tired. Why don’t you get some sleep?”

“That is the best idea yet.” Archer smiles. “Let’s choose rooms.” “This room looks like it suits you.” Loki notes as they walk into the first room they look at. “It has a similar energy to you.” Archer looks in and where natural light can come in through the large window, which makes the room more welcoming with the bright colors that are throughout. The room also hosts a queen-sized bed, a dresser, a vanity area, a desk, and what appears to be a walk-in closet. Archer will have to look later at that. “I can feel that too. Let’s get you a room to settle in.” They walk to the next room, next door to Archer’s. “This will do nicely.” Archer agrees, “This does scream Loki.” Loki’s room in contrast isn’t as bright. It is the same size as Archer’s, and with the same furniture, with a California King bed instead of a queen, but it’s more subdued. There are a lot of darker colors and tones. “We both need some rest, some more than others. Let’s get some sleep.” “You don’t have to tell me twice.” Archer walks out of Loki’s room, feeling Loki’s eyes watch her until she closes his door. She locks down the house so no one without Fury’s or her permission comes in and her charge doesn’t escape. Archer returns to her bedroom and changes into some sweatpants and a t-shirt. She washes her face in the on-suite bathroom. Satisfied that she’s ready for some shut eye, she puts her hearing aids in their case, places it on her bedside table, and crawls into the bed. Her bed. She closes her eyes, hoping for a peaceful sleep. Sami returns from the dream world to reality, her face wet with her tears and someone holding onto her. “Loki?” Loki shushes Sami and holds her tighter against him. “You were screaming, I thought that someone might have hurt you.” Sami is surprised that she can hear Loki clearly, even though she’s not wearing her hearing aids. “Thank you.” Sami relaxes. “But I am fine now. It was just a dream. Nothing that can hurt me. I appreciate you coming to check on me.”

“It was no problem, my dear. But are you sure you are okay? You can tell me.” “Yes, I am. Thank you.” Loki lets out a breath of relief. “If you’re truly okay, then I’ll let you go back to sleep, and I’ll return to my bed.” Loki puts the sheet and comforter on top of Sami, tucking her back into bed before he leaves. “Thank you, Loki.” Sami smiles sleepily. “Good night darling.” Loki closes the door, encasing Sami’s room in darkness, not before he looks at Sami with longing, in Sami’s drowsy state, must have imagined that. As Sami begins to fall back asleep, her face flushes with the interaction she had with Loki. “Did that really just happen? Why did that just happen?” Sami, after getting dressed and put together after a more peaceful sleep in the latter half of the evening, leaves her room and walks to the kitchen. She grabs a water bottle and sits at the island. She tries to stretch out her neck which was tight from the way she slept. “Good morning.” Loki begins to massage her shoulders and neck. Sami melts into Loki’s hands as the tension begins to disappear. “Are you okay?” “I’m fine. Thank you. How did you sleep?” “I wasn't asleep yet when I heard you screaming. It turns out you were just having a nightmare. What were you dreaming about?” “Oh, uh.” Sami pauses for a second. “I just had a dream about my ex, there was a storm, and I got electrocuted by lightning. That’s probably where the scream came from.” “It frightened me, you know.” Loki flinches slightly and stops the message. He sits next to Sami. “I am sorry. I didn’t know I talked, or I guess screamed in my sleep. But thank you for making sure I was safe.” “I am just glad I didn’t have to kill a poor soul for trying to take advantage of you.” “I think I could manage that myself.” Sami laughs. “But I appreciate your concern.” Sami gets up. “I’m hungry. Want some breakfast sandwiches? I think they have a maker here and some English muffins.” “Yes please.” Loki nods. “What do you have planned while we wait for your new orders?” “We’ll think about that after food.”

[babblydrabbly]

Distracted (Peacemaker x Reader) Smut

Pairing(s): Peacemaker x F!Reader; Brief Javelin x Reader

Characters: Peacemaker/Christopher Smith, Amanda Waller, Javelin

Rating: M

Word Count: 3.5k+

Warning(s): Smut, language, mentions of blood/violence. Choking, cream pie, semi-rough sex.

Summary: Out on a Task Force X mission, Peacemaker notices you're acting... different. He generously offers to help with what's distracting you. Asshole.

A/N: What's this? Baby's first Peacemaker fic? Takes place before The Suicide Squad (2021). Metahuman!Reader has super strength/speed abilities. Also, what kind of vanilla name is Chris Smith.

---

"Again?"

Amanda Waller arched a brow at your perturbed expression.

"My apologies." She droned. "Am I not stimulating you with enough variety, [L/n]?"

You scoffed, folding your arms in deference. It wasn't about that— It was about the deliberately repeated pairings with Christopher Smith. The dynamic that was becoming a pattern. You never would have worked with someone like Peacemaker on the outside. As much as you appreciated the job always getting done with him, you still bumped heads with him too much on the way to the finish line. He was frustratingly serious and flippant at the same time.

You decided to shut your trap before Waller decided she didn't need you anymore.

"You've got one skillset useful to me, [L/n]. I suggest you get used to the prospect of being paired up with Smith on a regular basis— While you're still around."

You nodded when she dismissed you. You had gotten used to it. You were seeing so much of Peacekeeper you were practically partners.

So, you pointedly sat to next the one called Javelin on the helicopter out of Belle Reve, as far away from Smith as possible. You were about to spend over twelve hours with him— It didn't have to start right away. While Colonel Flag gave you all the spiel on the mission, you glanced over and saw Javelin toss you a nod.

"You're Team B," The thrower noted over the whir of the helicopter. "[L/n], yes?"

"Yeah," you said. Your eyes flitted over the muscular squad member. He looked more like a superhero in his light blue and yellow get-up than the rest of you. You personally kept the lower half of your face covered with a black hard shell mask— Your armor from before you were incarcerated (Yes, you've heard the 'Baby Bane' jokes from the others). Even if you had to get used to working with a bunch of weirdos, you could at least conceal your face from them while you did it.

"You move very swiftly." He complimented, and you didn’t know how you were supposed to take that.

"Thanks," You tried, "I like your... weapon of choice?"

Javelin held his namesake in his arms, his legs spread wide to accommodate it as he rested it against his inner thigh. The innuendo normally would have had you rolling your eyes, but today they lingered, and you wondered if he still looked as broad and muscular without the suit on.

You frowned. Without the suit on?

Were you still staring down at his thighs?

You supposed he was a goddamn Olympic athlete at one point. And prison didn't seem to stop him from his regimen. —There it was again. You blinked and looked away, thankful nobody seemed to notice. Javelin seemed content with the brief introduction, so you left it at that.

Okay, so maybe it had been awhile since you...

You reprimanded yourself. These were not recreational outings. As much as you liked feeling free every once in awhile, you were never in a position to consider doing something so stupid. The last few missions were some of the closest calls you had while on the task force, but now that your job today was more about recon, you could at least let your mind wander to the less... imperative things. You crossed your legs at the ankles in front of you and let mind drift for the rest of the trip.

But christ had prison been rough. And a little boring. You didn’t have to think about Javelin moving closer to you for long— Pressing up flush against you— Before you were imagining yourself against a wall— Hell, right here on this bench— hooking your legs around his waist as he thrusted into you. You pictured him going for two, three rounds, that stupid suit lying on the floor with your back on top of it. You pictured him going down on you too, a handful of his wavy blonde hair in your grasp as you pressed your thighs around his ears. You swallowed behind the mask, glad it was there to hide your face.

You get dropped off an isolated point a few klicks outside the target area, the rest of the team traveling further in to handle the bulk of the mission. You lug some extra equipment in a canvas bag— Guns, surveillance tech— already annoyed by the heat.

The heat of the jungle. Definitely not the heat you'd been feeling in the helicopter. You walked a half mile in total silence just trying to focus on the mission again.

"What's got your tactical suit in a twist?" Smith finally uttered as you got to your destination. You almost forgot he had dropped down the rope onto the ground after you. He stood out against the green around you in his obnoxious red shirt and white pants.

"Nothing." You lied, and you could tell from under his helmet that Peacemaker thought you were full of shit today. Great.

You set up inside a small building— An outpost long abandoned. Whatever organization you were taking down for Waller, they clearly had to downsize over the years. You kicked open the metal door, sending it flying off its hinges. Smith entered first, clearing all the rooms before you joined him. Upstairs, you begin setting up the equipment together. Peacemaker started with standing up a rifle by the window, aiming it at the road below.

You fiddled with a tablet; You went downstairs to put a sensor on the door frame and on the rusted gate blocking the road outside. They were supposed to warn you when any vehicles were approaching, but when you came back up, it lost signal. You did this twice; You batted at the little screen, vexed. There were probably signal jammers over at the main compound that could still reach all the way out here. You thought about how Team A was doing— So inevitably, your thoughts drifted back to the damn Javelin guy.

"Jesus!" You snapped. You were grateful when you didn't break the small screen in half with your strength.

"Okay. What the fuck is wrong." Came Peacemaker's voice from across the room. You stood there without turning around. You took a breath, tossed the tablet onto the bag at your feet.

"Nothing is wrong, Smith. Fuck off." You said. You reached up and unclipped your vest. Beneath it, you felt the cool air of the shelter hit your jumpsuit. You tossed the vest on the floor, then turned around. "When are they supposed to get here?"

He quirked a brow, as if proving his point. Since when didn't you remember the mission details? Rather than give him the satisfaction of thinking you were slipping you waved your own question away.

"God, never mind."

He scoffed. You watched him remove his helmet and gloves, setting them down carefully next to his own pack. He'd made his own area across the room from yours, another tablet showing him a view of the road propped up against the wall. Smith took a seat on the floor; The two of you were going to have to play the waiting game now.

In silence. The thought made you pinch the bridge of your nose right above where your mask stopped.

"You know, I've been at Belle Reve for four years now." You finally relented. You leaned back against your wall, folding your arms over your chest.

"Yeah? So?" Smith retorted. You rolled your eyes.

"So," God— You were really confiding in Christopher Smith. That's what it was coming down to. "I haven't had sex in four years. It's... not a big deal— Nothing's wrong. That's just what I was annoyed about earlier, you know? Consider me over it."

"That why you were ogling the Javelin in the copter today?"

Shit. Shit!

You dropped your arms. "You piece of garbage. You saw that?"

"I'm garbage? You're the one sexually harassing our fellow teammates with your eyes."

"I was not sexually— Nope. I'm done. You're ridiculous." You said. You reached down and went back to your tablet, busying yourself with it idly.

Peacemaker did the same. From the corner of your eye, you just knew he was doing it smugly.

"You know," He said after a few minutes, "If that's all you're bitching about, we can just get it over with."

"Excuse me?"

"You and me. Target's not coming in for another six hours, by the way. You don't need that much time do you, 'four-years-dry'?"

You stared at him from across the room. When you didn't reply, Peacemaker set his screen down so damn casually you consider just shooting yourself in the head.

"You're off your game. I'm not going to let you compromise our objective."

You threw your hands up. "There it is. You're like a broken record."

"What? Am I fucking wrong?"

"No, you're fucking crazy."

"Get over here." Smith instructed in a low voice.

The words shot up your spine, sending a very mixed signal to your brain. Directly across from you, Peacemaker was pinning you with an expectant look— One that was clearly a challenge. It pissed you off.

It was the look he used when he said you couldn't rip a guy's spine right out of his back— It dared you. And when you did succeed, you would shoot him an equally smug look in return. Your back and forths were always crass, always a test of who would back down.

You weren't normally so brutal when you worked alone, but something about Peacemaker brought it out of you. Whenever you were paired together, it was like your powers weren't something you had to hold back. They were something he was always prodding you to embrace. The jabs, the snark— It made you want to punch him in the face.

Standing up, you crossed the room. Smith didn't move as you stepped over his legs, as you leaned down to straddle his waiting lap. He simply watched you shift around until you're comfortably seated, your hands resting on his shoulders. He moved to place his own on your thighs but didn't do anything more.

"Well?" You said.

He shrugged, "Your call."

"What am I gonna do? Dry hump you?"

"Hey, if that's what it takes."

You sighed, running a hand through your hair. "Fuck."

Finally, you reached up, unclipping the back of your mask.

"Whoa, wait—" He started, finally reacting to this ridiculous situation, but you already had it off, in your hand.

"I—" He stared at you. You shifted, feeling nervous as you stared back. It occurred to you that you'd never seen him shocked before.

He blinked. "I've never seen your whole face before."

That wasn't true— was it? You tried to think. "What about in Cuba? We camped out for like three days. I had to take it off to eat at least."

"I didn't look."

"You didn't look."

"I don't fucking know! You wear that fucking thing everywhere. When you took it off to eat I assumed you didn't want me looking."

"Wow. How courteous."

"Fuck you."

"Well, isn't that what we're doing here?" You said, putting your hands on your hips stubbornly. Smith's were still resting on your splayed thighs.

"I can't wear this when we— How am I supposed to...?"

He snorted softly, "Don't tell me you're a romantic, [L/n]."

Nothing about this seemed romantic. Least of all with him. Still, if you were going to take the opportunity, you were going to do it your way. You looked him over.

He had a few tufts sticking out from wearing his damn helmet earlier. You reached up and brushed some of it back into place at his temple first. Smith blinked up at you, his brows pinching together.

"This okay?" You heard yourself asking him. He eventually nodded once, watching you as you placed your palm on the side of his face. Finally, you leaned down and caught his lips with yours in a long kiss. You squeezed your eyes shut, not wanting to know his reaction.

But you felt him return it. Slowly at first— Then he was kissing you back. You moaned somewhere in the back of your throat as he ran his large hands up and down your legs, his fingers folding to grip your ass tightly. You were already reacting, already so touched starved. His lips parted, and you felt him swipe his tongue across your bottom lip, over the front of your teeth. You opened for him, your tongue darting out to meet his hungrily.

You tugged at the front of his uniform. Without a word he reached down to pull it up over his head, the fabric dropping off somewhere beside you. You glanced down at his bare chest. You ran your hands over it, dragged your nails down his pecs experimentally. When you looked back up he was still watching you.

Your mouths crashed to meet again, this time with a fervor that threatened to split your bottom lip with every bruising kiss. You felt his hands on you again, pressing into your sides, your waist. He didn't move to take off your clothes, so you drew your hands to your own chest, pulled the zipper of your suit all the way down to your stomach.

He took the invitation, and you gasped when he roughly reaches in and cups a hand around your breast; He kneaded it, brushing his thumb over your nipple. His other hand worked at your shoulder, yanking the rest of your suit off of you. You reached back and tugged the sleeves off, finally exposing your upper body.

You felt the clasp at your back come undone, and Smith was tearing your bra off next. A muscular arm came around to scoop you up by the waist, bringing your chest closer to him. He leaned down, took one of your nipples into his mouth.

"Smith—" He bit you roughly, and it sent a shock of electricity up you. He palmed your other breast again, tweaked at your nipple until your back was arching into his touch. You squeezed your thighs around him.

Then he was back in your face again, bruising a kiss against your lips as you took a breath. Your eyes flew open when you felt the press of his fingers to your mouth. You shot a look at him, but didn't object when he pushed his index and middle fingers past your lips. You sucked them hungrily, your eyes fluttering shut again.

"Fuck," Peacemaker murmured, feeling your tongue swirl around the digits. You slurped sloppily until they were soaked, until he was pulling them back out with a light pop. He brought his hand down to the base of your suit, where the zipper stopped just above your pelvis. A pair of black panties peaked out from the V shape there, the same shade and material as your bra. You gasped when Smith finally pushed down past the layer of cotton, gripped his bare shoulders when you felt his wet fingers dip right into your cunt.

"Fuck," He said again, because you didn't need any help down there. "You're so fucking wet."

You expected to feel humiliation— To hear a joke about how it really had been while. But all you felt were his warm, thick fingers; He ran them up and down your slit, pressed them in small circles around the peak of you a few times. You cursed, your head falling back. Smith leaned up to kiss your throat, teeth dragging across the base of your collarbone. He bit you some more, daring to take your meta-human skin between his teeth. You cried out, your arm reaching to wrap around his head in pleasure.

Smith slid his fingers up into your pussy. He crooked them, scissoring them inside you. Your hips bucked, unable to resist meeting his short thrusts. You felt him grin against your neck. "Damn, baby."

"Shut up." You whispered, letting your hips rolling down to fuck yourself on his fingers some more. When he slipped in a third you moan loudly.

"Fuck! Fuck me." You demanded, yanking the short hair at the back of his head. A groan left Smith's lips, his head jerking back. Quickly, he removed his hand from your suit, pulling the rest of your clothes further down your waist. You lifted yourself off him, but Smith didn't wait. He picked you up and lifted you both off the floor. You grabbed at him as he laid you down on your back, his body between your legs. Then he was ripping off the last of your suit, tearing your boots off.

"Watch it," You snapped— If he fucking ripped anything you—

"Oh please." He huffed, and your thoughts stopped in their tracks as you watched him lean back on his knees above you, undoing his white pants. His cock sprang free from a pair of just as white underwear, his arousal already thick and ready. You stopped yourself from expressing how the sight of him made you even wetter.

He took a moment to drink in your face, a hint of that smug smirk forming. You growled, pulling him down by the neck again before he ruined the moment with speaking. Smith caught your lips again, his hand running down your naked body. He gripped one of your legs and nudges them apart, planting his knees between you.

Despite his earlier preparation, it was nothing compared to the feeling of his cock pushing inside you. You groaned as he entered you, your walls stretching around his length. Your back arched as you took him in, eyes rolling a little into the back of your head.

"Fuck— Chris—" You shuttered. His hands squeezed your thighs at the sound of his name leaving you. You heard his breath shake, his hips remaining utterly still as you got used to the size of him. Opening your eyes, you looked up to see him waiting for you; You nodded once, another moaning already escaping in anticipation.

It was like a brick wall knocking into you. Smith didn't hold back as he began fucking you— Knew you could take it— what with your powers and all. The idea seemed to drive him, and he began hammering into you, his hands moving to bracket your hips so he could fuck you better. Faster. Your legs wrapped around his waist.

Fuck— You couldn't think. You arched up off of the floor as you rolled your hips to meet Smith's. It felt like he could keep up this pace forever the way he wasn't stopping. Your breathing turned to panting, a high whine escaping you when he shifts just right— he picked you up again. You arched up into his arms, holding yourself up from around his neck as he fucked up into your soaking cunt. You bounced on his cock, a sheen of sweat blooming across your skin.

When you opened your eyes, Smith was still watching you intently— witnessing every little expression on your face while he fucked you. You could hardly discern what he was thinking. All you could focus on was him ramming you, the feeling of his cock hitting and stretching you out.

“Choke me.” He said, and you have just enough wherewithal to oblige. You wrapped your hand around his throat, pressing firmly on either side. You felt the tightness of his skin shifting under your touch. His pulse beat a fast rhythm in time with his rough thrusts. The strength of your grip was a little vice tipping Smith over the edge.

The look on his face, his eyes closed as he tried to control his breathing sends a jolt up you. You used your other hand to slip two fingers down between your folds. They found your clit, making quick work of bringing you to close to climaxing. You shuttered as you felt the tight coil of it building. Finally, with a cry you were coming, squeezing your legs around him as your hips rolling through every wave of it. Smith groaned, picking up the pace, fucking you through your orgasm until your walls were fluttering from the unrelenting stimulation.

“Going to—“ He warned, and you squeezed the hand around his throat harder, making his eyes roll up. You whimpered as you feel the hot spurt of him fill you, his hips finally locking as he pumped you with his cum.

You both took a moment to catch your breath, your hand releasing from Smith’s neck so he could take in a long gasp. His skin was reddened along his throat and chest. You saw the beginnings of your handprint bruising around his Adam's apple, your fingers a mark on his skin. You hung onto him like that, your arms back around his shoulders for balance.

“Fuck.” You finally said. Out of habit, you checked your watch to assess where you were on the mission. He took your chin in his hand, drawing your eyes back up to him. You saw that his hair had fallen back into his eyes, his face glistening with sweat.

“I’m not done with you.” He said. It sent a shiver through you. You felt your walls flutter again, some of his cum leaking out with his half-hard cock still firm inside you. You gasped as he pulled you off of him, guiding you down until you were turning around on all fours on the floor. You glanced over your shoulder, already craving the feeling of him filling you up with his cock again.

And fuck it, you two do take the whole six hours.

[tobesolonely]

house hunting

A/n: hello!! I’ve been having a mad case of writers block, so @goldenbluesuit​‘s list of prompts was posted just in time! Thank you and i hope you all enjoy!! thank u @harryysstyless​ and @nationalharryleague​ for looking this over also :) Love u guyssss!

summary: newly engaged y/n and harry realize they have very different tastes in homes when they begin house hunting!!!

warnings: smut

word count: ~3.3k

my ko-fi! thank you :)

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With all the joys that came with being engaged, there was a good deal of logistics that you hadn’t even thought of when you excitedly told Harry, “Duh, of course, I’ll marry you!” just four short months ago. Should you wed in the fall or wait until the spring? Outdoors or indoors? These were things that you and Harry went back and forth about most nights, cuddled in bed next to each other before drifting off to sleep.

Something you were most excited about, though, was finally owning a home with Harry. You practically lived together as it was, seeing that you were at his place most nights. Still, his home wasn’t yours—you were reminded every time you had to grab something forgotten from your apartment. Or when he was away for work and you couldn’t bear to be in his large, empty house by yourself.

So while you already knew each other’s grossest habits, (Harry loved asking you to pop his back pimples) you didn’t yet own a home together. Sadly, house hunting was turning out to be a less-than-joyous task when you and Harry were looking for completely different things.

“I jus’ think we’re cottage-style people… that’s all,'' your fiancé’s hand rests on your thigh while you wait in his car for the real estate agent to arrive. “This one’s nice, yeah, but is it who we are?”

You refrain from rolling your eyes at him. “You’re only saying that because they remind you of home.”

“So? They’re lovely,” he sounds a little defensive, but not mad. Your response  to Harry is interrupted as the real estate agent pulls into the driveway.

“Be nice,” you remind him as you open your door to let yourself out. “I understand the Craftsman isn’t your first choice, but she worked hard to find this place for us. At least go into it with an open mind.”

Your fiancé mutters something under his breath, but you know he’ll behave himself––he didn’t have a mean bone in his body. Harry’s demeanor immediately changes once the real estate agent is within earshot, turning on his signature English charm. “Thank you for meeting my fiancée and me today. We’re both very excited to check out this lovely home.”

Since you’re privy to the reality of the situation, you can tell he’s laying it on a bit thick, but your agent is loving it. “You’ll both fall in love, I know it,” she begins her ascent up the long driveway and you and Harry follow behind hand-in-hand. “Six bedrooms, eleven bathrooms, and nearly twenty thousand square feet. You can’t beat it.”

Harry seems unphased by the enormous size of the house, but your breath hitches in your throat. Did the two of you actually need this much room? The house appeared to be even bigger than the one Harry owned now––you knew you would hate staying here when he was away for work except this time, you wouldn’t have a quaint apartment and a roommate to go back to when you were feeling lonely.

“H, ‘s kinda big…” you’re trying to speak quietly enough so the real estate agent doesn’t hear you. “I don’t know if I like it.”

“What’s tha’? We haven’t even gotten inside, love,” Harry stops walking to give you his full attention. “You don’t like it?”

“Just the driveway by itself is enormous,” you feel your cheeks growing warm. “I would be too scared to stay here by myself.”

Harry hums in agreement. “Can we have just a moment, please?” He sweetly turns to face the real estate agent who insists you take your time, walking farther up the driveway to give the two of you privacy.

“We’ve not seen the inside, doll. Gotta at least do that,” Harry’s hands run along your bare arms. “‘Member what you jus’ told me? Let’s go into it with an open mind. Don’t have to place an offer on it or anything.”

“Okay…” you’re reluctant and Harry can tell, but neither one of you want to be rude to the real estate agent. “You’re right. I guess it doesn’t hurt to just check it out.”

Harry gives you a dimpled grin. “Y’never know. Might fall in love with it, puppy,” Harry leans in so close that you can feel his breath on your nose. “Besides, think of all the rooms we’d get to have a shag in if we moved in here.”

. ⋅ ˚̣- : ✧ : – ⭒ ⊹ ⭒ – : ✧ : -˚̣⋅ .

“I hate it.”

“What’s there to hate? Look at how cozy it is.”

“Don’t like the color.”

“It’s nothing to slap a fresh coat of paint on the outside.”

You open your mouth and then close it in defeat. He wasn’t wrong. You let Harry lead you around the perimeter of the house while you wait for your real estate agent to arrive to let you in—Harry’s animatedly talking about all the renovations that can be done to upgrade the house (even stating he could do some of them himself) and deep down you know this is the house you will end up living in. 

“So sorry I’m late,” the agent’s voice pulls you from your thoughts. “There was an accident on the 405��made traffic a nightmare.” 

“No worries at all,” Harry says cheerily. “We’re just excited to get inside and take a look at this place. It’s gorgeous.” 

The lady doesn’t even try to hide her surprise. “Really? I agree that it’s a beautiful home, but I thought it would be your last choice given it’s on the smaller side.” 

“How many bedrooms?” You change the subject,  gazing at the house in front of you. You thought it was rather large, but to each their own. 

“Five bedrooms, four and a half bathrooms.”

You glance over at your fiancé, who appeared to be deep in thought—he was most likely calculating if five bedrooms would be enough to host friends and family who came to visit. 

“That’s perfect,” he says after a moment, squeezing your hand in excitement. “We’d love to get inside.” 

The real estate agent mutters a quiet, “please, follow me” to which you and Harry oblige. She leads you up a gorgeous cobblestone pathway that ends at weathered brick stairs. Harry lightly placed his hands on your waist as you ascended the three steps, knowing you tended to be on the clumsy side. 

“Porch is nice, innit?” Harry says to you, lowering his gaze so he’s looking square in your eyes. “I can see us ‘avin a cup of coffee in the mornin’ while lookin’ out at the street.”

Your husband-to-be was trying to sell you on the home more than your real estate agent was––you weren’t mad at it. You simply hum in agreement, not wanting to fully give into Harry just yet.

The real estate agent unlocks the door and ushers the both of you ahead of her, wiping her feet on the mat before entering the home. It was beautiful. The floor plan was open, the living room flowing easily into the kitchen which led into the dining room. Large windows let in plenty of natural sunlight, which you know Harry appreciated. 

You listen attentively as the real estate agent gives her typical spiel, informing you about the history of the house (and how all the wood fixtures were original). Harry is long gone, tucked away in some other part of the house, most likely examining the crown molding or something of the sort.

“...because the floor plan is so open, it’s the perfect space for entertaining.”

“So true,” you respond politely, looking around the space. “I was just thinking that. I’m sure Harry would agree... wherever he ran off to.”

“He’s a fan of this one, I take it?” She’s walking again, leading you to the back of the house.

“Oh, definitely. He’s been telling me we’re “cottage people” to warm me up to the idea of moving in here.”

“Is it working?”

You let out a quiet giggle. “Surprisingly, yes.”

“Babe, come look at this bedroom. S’gonna be ours!” Harry calls out to you from deeper in the house and you furrow your brows as you try to determine what room he ducked into.

“Where are you, love?” 

“‘M in here!”

You roll your eyes at how Harry did nothing to clarify his exact location for you, but you quickly figure it out, anyway. While the house was large, it was nowhere as big as some places you’ve already looked at which you appreciated.

Once reunited with Harry, he immediately reaches for your hand and pulls you into him. The bedroom you’re now standing in has floor-to-ceiling windows, an adjoining bathroom, and even a fireplace. It was stunning.

“This room is nice,” you say quietly, leaning into his touch. Harry nods.

“S��our room. Can’t you just picture us sleepin’ in here? Relaxin’?” He leans in close to your ear. “Fuckin’?”

A shiver immediately runs through your body at your fiancé’s vulgarity, but you try your best to play off your reaction as you turn to face the real estate agent. “Let’s see the rest of the place, yeah?”

. ⋅ ˚̣- : ✧ : – ⭒ ⊹ ⭒ – : ✧ : -˚̣⋅ .

No one warned you about how much work went into actually closing on a home.

It was a long process. You were glad you had Harry, who had financial advisors, to help you close on the deal. You and Harry ended up going with the cottage home, of course, which ultimately was the best choice for what the two of you needed at the moment. 

Waiting to move in seemed like it took a lifetime, even though it was only a couple weeks. Your apartment was a mess of boxes and packing tape, and you were glad you had your roommate to help you gather the things you still had left there (since you had basically already moved in with Harry as it was).

When the day finally came to move all your boxes into your new home, you were more than ready to get it over with. You weren’t sure how Harry could remain in such high spirits engaging in such an arduous task (you were honestly feeling quite crabby), so you let Harry deal with the movers lest you accidentally lose your cool and snap at someone. He kept offering to help them move things, feeling guilty for just standing around while they heaved your extensive amount of belongings around, but they kept insisting they were fine. Your fiancé opted to contribute by going to the kitchen and making them lemonade and little sandwiches, instead.

“We have a lot of stuff, don’t we?” Harry glances up at you as you walk into the kitchen, a mischievous look on his face.

“What’s this we? Pretty sure they’re struggling to carry your things around, not mine,” you snake your arms around Harry’s waist. “Maybe we can have a garage sale? Get to know some neighbors too, hmm?”

“Weird to sell Gucci at a garage sale, innit?” Harry cuts a sandwich into four perfect triangles and sets them beside him on a platter he must’ve dug out of some box. You shrug.

“I’m sure you’re not the only person in this neighborhood who can afford Gucci.”

Harry hums in response, continuing to slather spread onto the sandwiches he was making. “Can you go offer these to the movers? Ask ‘em if they want lemonade or water, too.” He tilts his head toward the tray on the other side of the counter and you reach around him to grab it.

“Look at you makin’ everyone snacks and whatnot. So domestic,” you tease, grabbing Harry’s cheek and pinching firmly. “It’s getting me all hot.”

“Yeah?” He questions, going along with your playful pestering. “Y’like it?”

“Fuckin’ love it,” you coo, giving him bedroom eyes. Harry throws his head back, letting out a loud guffaw. You exit the kitchen and go from person to person, kindly offering them sandwiches which they are more than happy to accept.

The movers finish a couple of hours later, your beautiful home still just as beautiful, but now a myriad of boxes and trash bags. The two of you had absolutely no furniture yet, seeing as Harry wanted to buy everything new instead of bringing the furniture from his old home for reasons you were still unsure of.

Harry settled on making the two of you sandwiches for supper, seeing as that was the only food you had in the entire house, and neither one of you felt like running to the store to buy anything else. He pours two tall glasses of lemonade before carefully walking to where you sat cross-legged on the floor of the living room.

“Our new home...,” Harry trails off, looking around the cluttered space. “The first thing that’s ours.”

“I could cry,” you reply, voice slightly shaky. “Like, it’s just so surreal. We can really decorate however we want and celebrate holidays–”

“Gonna fight wif’ each other ‘n love on each other,” he adds. “Grow old with each other... so happy you’re all mine and ‘m all yours.”

Your heart swells at Harry’s words. He can always tell when you’re growing emotional––he knows you better than anyone else, after all––and he quickly moves closer to you, pulling you into his side. Neither one of you says anything, there’s nothing that needs to be said. You opt to bask in each other’s company and the comfortable silence that fills the dim living room. Out of the corner of your eye you notice Harry scoot the food and drinks out of the way before he pulls you fully into his lap.

“I can’t wait for all of it,” you wrap your arms around his neck, sucking lightly on the area where the skin of his jaw trails into his neck. “Can’t wait to have it all with you.”

“Know what ‘m lookin’ forward to the most?” You hum. “Lookin’ forward to the baby makin’.”

Your breath hitches in your throat at Harry’s admission. Sure, you’ve discussed children before––you were getting married! Still, he catches you off-guard.

“Yeah?”

“Mmm,” his hand slowly makes its way underneath your shirt, loving how he already had you squirming under him.

“I’ve got it,” you mumble quietly, moving away from him. You expertly unclasp your bra and fling it out of the way, letting it join the rest of the mess that litters the floor of your home.

“This is really the first place we’re gonna shag in, then?” Harry asks breathlessly, sucking roughly against your collarbone. 

You shrug your shoulders before moving to tangle your hands in Harry’s hair. “The entire house is a mess, this is as good a spot as any.”

“Can’t argue with that,” he mutters, trailing his hands down your body until he gets to your bottom. He easily shimmies your tight leggings down your legs, having done this many, many times before. “Gonna help me christen every room in this house, angel?”

“Yeah,” you’re quick to respond. You wish there was more kissing and less talking going on, but your arrogant fiancé loved two things: teasing you, and the sound of his own voice. “Can I have a kiss?”

“Where do ya want that kiss?”

“Get your mind outta the gutter,” you plead, tilting your head to the side so Harry can access your neck easier. “My lips.” 

You know what Harry’s going to say before he says it. “Which ones?”

“H, come on,” you whine, tugging at the hair on the nape of his neck. “Gimmie one.” 

Harry finally gives into your requests and presses his lips delicately against yours, humming in pleasure as he feels you sink deeper into the kiss. “I’m messin’ with ya, Y/N. I could never pass on givin’ ya a kiss.” 

“I’m glad,” you answer triumphantly, shamelessly stealing another kiss from him. 

“Gonna go all the way with me on our living room floor? Dirty girl, you are,” Harry says quietly, gently removing you from his lap. He helps you lay back on the floor, but not before bunching up your leggings for you to use as a pillow. 

“All good?” 

“Mmm,” you reach up for him, wanting to feel his lips against yours once again. He doesn’t give in so easily—not this time. Harry allows you to take his plump upper lip into your mouth before pulling away just out of your reach. You let out a pitiful whimper which causes Harry to puff out his chest, his ego getting the best of him. 

“Gonna make ya feel so good,” he says quietly, rubbing his palm against your core. Your underwear was still on and you knew he was approximately four seconds away from ripping them off.

“I know,” you answer quickly. “I know, H.”

“You sound impatient.”

“I just wanna get on with it.”

Harry sits back on his heels. “What’s tha’ rush? Jus’ us, yeah? Jus’ me?”

“I need it,” you say under your breath. You were usually quite vocal in bed with Harry, but something about the way his gaze fixed on you had butterflies fluttering all-around your stomach.

“What do you need?” Harry taps your bum while he’s saying this, signaling for you to lift yourself slightly off the ground so he can get them around your ankles. 

“I need you in me,” you whisper. You knew he knew exactly where you needed him, but you’d stroke his ego a bit if it meant he’d fuck you just how you wanted him to. “Hard. F-fast.”

“I can manage that,” he cheekily replies, giving his hard cock three tugs before pressing himself to your entrance. “Don’t want me to eat ya out or summat?”

“No,” you answer entirely too quickly. “Please just fuck me, H-”

He understands just how needy and desperate you are now and wastes no more time, swiftly entering your tight cunt like he was made just for you. Your body always molded together so perfectly––no one knew you better than he did. When you were really pressed for time, he could get you off in less than five minutes. Although his pace is relentless tonight though, there is no rush. 

You felt full in such a way that only Harry could make happen. You let out a loud moan as he moves your leg ever so slightly to angle you in such a way that he knew would hit your spongy walls deep inside of you.

“Y’like it? Like me fuckin’ into ya like this?”

“Love it,” you moan breathlessly, reaching to cradle your tits. Harry raises his eyebrows, pace faltering slightly.

“What are you bein’ so quiet for? S’no one here except us,” he reaches in between your sweaty bodies to flick your clit. “Can feel you clenchin’ ‘round me–are you gonna come, puppy? Come around my cock?”

His teasing is all it takes for you to cum around him, clenching down so tightly that it takes a surprising deal of strength for him to keep moving. Harry follows shortly behind you, letting out an animalistic groan that sounds downright filthy. In that moment, you were glad that there was no one else in the house because if there was, they definitely would’ve heard you and Harry coming down from your respective highs together. He speaks after a moment, chest still heaving.

“One room down, the rest of the house to go.”

. ⋅ ˚̣- : ✧ : – ⭒ ⊹ ⭒ – : ✧ : -˚̣⋅ .

as always, please let me know what you thought here!

[simplepotatofarmer]

technoblade: a takedown - pt. 1

(not clickbait)

aka i go over every argument people make against c!techno one by one and determine whether they’re valid, false, or a mixture of both. i rewatched every single stream/video, including those on his alt channel, so i could approach this with the most information possible. i’ll be breaking this up into parts because there’s just too much otherwise. all about the characters unless stated.

techno believes in a ‘dog eat dog’ world - false

this is an argument i see used a lot when people discuss techno so i wanted to address it first. luckily, the stream in which he says this is only his fifth stream on the server. there’s one major reason why this argument falls apart and one minor reason that isn’t objective like the first.

first and most importantly: techno has never acted on this. even at the beginning - which is when this comment was made - he was helping his allies, from building railings to keep them from falling, making a potato farm, and all the gear he grinded for to equip his allies in pogtopia with. moving forward, he’s also helped out plenty of people: giving tommy a place to stay and items, telling phil to reach out to ranboo after doomsday, as well as giving both tommy and ranboo food when asked. there’s more, of course, but the point is he’s never once followed up on this statement. he teamed up with quackity to stop the egg. he spoke to niki about how he was giving anarchy a bad reputation because of the violence and wanted to take a different approach which he has.

when people use this argument to insist that techno is the villain, it doesn’t hold up because it’s merely taking one statement he made and upholding it as a main part of his character when his actions and later statements have shown that he doesn’t actually believe in this randian view point. objectively, i can’t see how this argument can extend beyond ‘well, he said it’. regardless of what he said during the pogtopia arc, he’s said the opposite later - wanting everyone to live free with no oppression or imperialism - and has never acted on it nor brought it up later. this take honestly seems disingenuous and was in fact the driving factor of this post.

second and not as critical, techno mentions multiple times during each of his first streams that he’s not sure who all is on his side. this is a reoccurring point for him. he makes the comment about wanting a dog eat dog world during the red festival stream, while speaking to bad and sam. the first part of the conversation is techno asking about state secrets since they’re (as far as techno knows) on manberg’s side. bad mentions schlatt killing cats and techno launches into a spiel about massive anarchy and the weak being huddled in fear, asking them how does that sound. bad says as long as there’s no cat murder, perhaps. bad then asks techno what his ‘single issue’ is and techno responds that he wants to destroy the government. to me, the context of the conversation, who he’s speaking to and what his opinion of those people is, is an important thing to consider.

techno’s ‘we’ll burn that bridge when we get to it’ comment means he was always going to betray pogtopia/l’manberg - valid but not how you think it is

i’ve seen people say that techno saying ‘we’ll burn that bridge when we get to it’ is a clear sign that he was always intending to betray pogtopia/l’manberg which, yeah? 

but i wouldn’t call it a betrayal. 

he says the ‘we’ll burn that bridge when we get to it’ line at the end of the ‘eve of revolution’ stream while he’s talking to quackity, ponk, and sam. the conversation is as follows:

techno, to quackity: i’m glad we could get to know each other. i heard you’re on our side now. i heard you betrayed schlatt.

quackity: yeah, that’s right. are you betraying anyone?

techno: no. i would never betray my personal ideals.

[some chatter from ponk and quackity]

sam: what does that mean? what if the people you’re fighting along [sic] have different ideals than you, though? doesn’t that mean you’d betray them?

techno: listen... we’ll burn that bridge when we get to it.

then techno states that he ‘said what he said’ when sam questions him about his choice of metaphor.

he actually uses the same malaphor at the beginning of the ‘revolution’ stream when they (quackity and tubbo) question him again and in that case techno definitely avoids the subject which isn’t a good thing but considering everyone was so worked up about the possible traitor, i can completely understand.

overall, techno is extremely upfront about his intentions. yes, there is definitely some miscommunication between all the parties because none of them were on the same page but that doesn’t make techno the bad guy here nor does it mean he betrayed anyone. he was upfront about his intentions from the start.

in his first two streams, he makes a joke that if they happen to set up a new government/president that he would just take that one down and it would be a never-ending cycle. over and over, he says that he wants to do destroy the government/manberg. when tommy mentions taking it back, techno says, ‘what do you mean, take it back?’ though this kind of gets lost in the middle of everything else - dsmp (lack of) communication strikes again. 

the takeaway that i see here a lot is that techno always intended to betray them because he knew tommy wanted to take back l’manberg and knew that he would go against them if they set up a new government. and this is true to an extent! he did know that tommy wanted l’manberg back and he did know that he would go against them if they set up a new government. but wilbur was also telling techno that he was on board with the whole anarchy thing. 

none of them were on the same page and that surely led to a big chunk of what happened and hurt feelings on both sides but that doesn’t mean techno betrayed anyone or that he was the bad guy for doing exactly what he said he would do from day one.

techno destroying (l’)manberg was wrong - it’s complicated

the first thing to address here is that for most anarchists, destroying a government isn’t a bad thing. in fact, taking down the government/state is basically our goal. now, i don’t speak for all anarchists, of course, but overall the general feeling is that violence in the name of overthrowing an oppressive government is not inherently bad. there’s no way to do a one-for-one here because it’s minecraft but the general sentiment remains. so while violence enacted against the state is a bad thing for people who aren’t anarchists, techno has no reason to and would not view it as inherently bad.  

but it did hurt people and techno himself acknowledges that fact. he’s acknowledged what he’s done when confronted about it. he hasn’t said he was wrong because understanding that it was hurtful doesn’t mean he believes he was wrong. to him, he wasn’t. destroying what he viewed as an oppressive system was the right thing to do, even if it hurt people.

(also this isn’t any kind of meta but i think it needs to be pointed out that wilbur had already set off the tnt and techno summoned two killable mobs which did plenty of damage but he didn’t say wilbur was the great who came before them for no reason.)

again, this is going to be the most controversial part of this post because i don’t believe destroying government is a bad thing and i don’t believe techno is wrong for believing that as well. there are better ways to address the problem and techno is adjusting his tactics but if another government was to be established, i don’t believe he would be in the wrong to destroy it because he’s an anarchist.

the tl;dr of this section honestly could just be summed up with ‘watch less marvel, read more ursula k. le guin’.

‘techno is the villain because he called tommy the hero’ - so very false 

this is a take i’ve seen that to this day i don’t understand.

techno calling tommy the hero does not mean he was setting himself up as the villain in any capacity. it was merely pointing out tommy’s habit of putting himself at the forefront of almost every conflict, trying to shoulder everything, no matter how it hurts tommy himself. the speech was directed at that and nothing else. it doesn’t mean techno is the villain, it doesn’t even mean there is a villain; there are more stories to be told than the classic hero-villain and the hero-villain narrative doesn’t always apply to stories. (i’d certainly argue that it doesn’t apply to the dream smp but that’s a different conversation.)

techno is to blame for tubbo’s death - false

i think this one has been done to death but what would a techno post be without it?

no, techno is not to blame.

he said over and over that he was outnumbered and believed that if he had done anything, everyone would’ve turned on him and ‘torn him to shreds’. even if that wasn’t the case, it is what techno believed. he had no reason to think that he could take the entire crowd out until he actually fired the rocket launcher. and remember, he tested the rocket launcher earlier during the festival on niki (who volunteered) and it didn’t kill her. when he realized the amount of splash damage it did, he gives a surprised laugh and then begins firing into the crowd. 

as for saying he was under ‘mild’ amounts of peer pressure, techno has a habit of minimizing. not just the things he’s done, but often situations that he’s been in that were stressful. he stated that he deals poorly with high stress situations and one of the cognitive distortions that can come with anxiety is minimization. techno doesn’t actually believe it was ‘mild’ peer pressure - it was a situation that caused him enough distress that he brings it up later at doomsday - but it’s easier to deal with a situation when you downplay it, it’s easier for techno to keep up that calm façade when he’s acting as if whatever happened wasn’t that big of a deal even if it was. again, the way he speaks about it on doomsday was clearly upset and emotional. 

the only person to blame for tubbo’s death is schlatt. he was the one pulling the trigger and techno was the gun.

if you made it this far, thank you for sticking it out! i spent so many hours rewatching all the streams, some of them multiple times, while taking notes to be able to do this. i’m extremely passionate about techno and i feel as if a lot of the arguments against him tend to miss the nuance of his character. this project is on-going and i’ll be going over the butcher army/retirement storylines next. feel free to submit any points you’d like to see addressed! 

[amesstm]

s/o who is scared of spiders

Characters: Daichi, Kita, Kuroo, Oikawa, Bokuto, Terushima, Futakuchi, Ushijima

A/N: This is inspired by my terrifying experience with a spider last night. If anyone wants to know, spraying it constantly with B&BW fragrance sprays is very effective. Now, my bathroom smells like warm vanilla sugar.

✨Daichi✨ would hear your scream and immediately think it’s a home invader because he’s a cop. As he ran towards you, he’s glad he’s done all the exercising he’s ever had to do for this exact moment. Absolutely no one was going to touch you. “What’s wrong?! Are you okay??? Is someone dying??” He assesses the situation and immediately sees you pointing at a small spider in the corner. He’s completely stone-faced (with that look on his face whenever Hinata and Kageyama argued) because he got so worried over nothing; so, he starts to turn away. “Nooo! Please come back!” After much pleading on your part, he’d promptly kill it with a press of his shoe. Clean scene with no evidence. You’re still breathing heavily but don’t worry, he hugs you because you’re his baby. You may be embarrassed because you know that your fear is irrational, but he’s seen a lot of fear in his lifetime.

✨Kita✨ would be running because of the blood-curdling scream. Kita is usually calm, collected, and stoic, but he actually shows worry for the first time in his life. He notices how you’re curled into a ball with your eyes fixated on the mirror. His keen eyes immediately see what you’re freaking out about. “Please get rid of it, Shin!” Yeah, all the anxiety disappeared from his face and a relaxed demeanor replaces it. “It’s only a spider, it won’t hurt you.” “It’s hurting me spiritually.” Since Kita works in the fields, he’s perfectly fine coexisting with bugs so he’d walk past you calmly, pick it up in his palm, and show it to you. Of course, you yell in terror so he just releases it outside, a little farther away from the house. “It’s gone.” “You released it, didn’t you…” He’d nod nonchalantly. “What if it comes back?” “I’ll be here for you.” You sighed but smiled, unable to ever really be mad at him, “We’re making a pillow fort for defense.”

✨Kuroo✨ would be concerned because he’s never heard you scream like that before, not even with him. But as soon as this man sees that you’re freaking out over a spider, this man of science will rationalize that it’s not a threat. Of course, Kuroo would laugh at you at first, but then he’d educate you on why spiders are good for the environment. He would absolutely try his best to make you understand that the specific spider you were scared of at this moment was actually not dangerous whatsoever. He knows that you’d freak out with visual examples of harmless spiders, so he sticks to an audio lesson. By the end of his spiel, you’re okay with spiders. Kuroo would still be in a teasing mode as usual, saying, “I’m so proud of your character development.” You pout, “Can we still evict it, though?”

✨Oikawa✨ would probably hear your screams from across the house and think you’re being dramatic (as if he can totally judge you). So, he takes his time sauntering to you whilst you’re just hoping he’d hurry up. He would literally roll his eyes because it was probably over nothing. But as soon as Oikawa enters and sees the menace, he would scream just as loud and definitely possibly higher than you would. If you could handle his weight, he totally would’ve jumped into your arms at that moment. You two would stare at it from across the room, holding onto each other and crying together. “You kill it!” “No, you kill it!” If it moves an inch, you two are screaming again. Even the spider would be confused by the spectacle because all it did was exist. Meanwhile, you both contemplate relocating to Antarctica (aka the only place without spiders in the whole world). Instead of any drastic actions, you call Hajime to be the savior of the day. Unfortunately, you had to use Oikawa’s phone and Hajime let it ring.

✨Bokuto✨ is concerned at first - as he should be - but then he’d love the spider because it’s small and docile. His eyes would widen like an owl’s in wonder, creeping even closer to the little guy so he wouldn’t scare it. The large man would even pick the little creature up, much to your astounded horror. He also dares to get close to the spider in his palm, whispering, “Hey little guy, was my little owl scaring you?” You’d definitely be offended because it scared you first??? You’re in the corner pouting from frustration and betrayal, watching Bokuto admire it. Soon, Bokuto would absolutely be engrossed in a whole conversation with the spider as if it would reply, so he didn’t see you enter with a vacuum. Now he’s the one screaming because you killed his friend.“STUART, NO! He had a wife and kids!” “Okay, so?” Bokuto is in emo mode until you prepare a funeral for ‘Stuart.’

✨Terushima✨ is all cocky and arrogant when he tries to kill the spider for you. His signature smirk wasn’t even subtle or disguised as concern when he teased, “Awh, does my darling in distress need me?” Now you stop freaking out, opting to glare at him because you just want him to get rid of it. Your hand swats at him, causing him to tease you even more. He’d laugh at your expression and shoo you away with an easygoing smile, “Don’t worry, it won’t be a problem for you anymore!” You’re bouncing slightly in place as you anxiously wait for some relief. Little did he know it was one of those jumping spiders. So when it jumps to another location entirely, he jumps and screams from terror and confusion. Wild TERUSHIMA fled! You sighed in disappointment and promptly closed off that area of the house because your knight in shining armor refused to enter a rematch.

✨Futakuchi✨ would think your phobia is irrational at first, as most do. In fact, he wanted to tease you for it, but the look on your face melted his iron heart. A big pout rested on your lips and your eyes dropped in pure hopelessness. Now, he decided that the perpetrator should be eliminated as soon as possible for you to be happy again. He’d swiftly grab a tissue, kill it in one go, and flush it down the toilet. Let it be known that your phobia had always been made fun of, so your boyfriend killing it without any questions? Futakuchi would definitely notice the sparkling heart eyes you were making at him, so he’d chuckle, “Why are you looking at me like that?” With the most serious expression and tone you asked, “Can we get married now?” He’d chuckle and walk away, not taking you seriously. You’d scamper after him, whining, “No, no, I mean it! Come back!”

✨Ushijima✨ would be really confused by your fear. “Why are you scared of it?” His furrowed eyebrows and confused eyes weren’t mocking whatsoever. So, you knew he was genuine in his curiosity and confusion. After calming yourself down, you’d explain why spiders absolutely terrified you. While many considered your boyfriend to be dense - and to be fair, he was - but he knew the look of fear. He’s seen it with his opponents before. Silently, he just kills it for you. You breathe out in relief, “Thank you! How can I make it up to you?” He’d slightly pout, “Do I scare you like the spider?” Confused by his question, you tilted your head, “No. Why?” “Because you looked like my opponents.” You blinked a few times and began to laugh, “No, no, baby. You don’t scare me at all.” Afterwards, you make him lean in for a kiss, which he gladly accepts as reassurance.

A/N: y’all why did my autocorrect wanna write cow when I was writing Ushijima’s??? It knows bro.

©amesstm on tumblr // pls do not plagiarize, steal, or repost my content w/o permission!! BUT likes & reblogs are highly appreciated :)

[alfredosauce50]

The anatomy of the obsessed artist [2p! Italy x reader]

Synopsis: You have the golden opportunity to display your art at a newly opened gallery. Nobody stops to look at your work until an eccentric connoisseur praises it, even asking you if he can buy it. Touched and fascinated by his personality, you agree to meet him over coffee. Now that he’s no stranger, he keeps inviting you over to his lavish estate until he realizes it’s not the art he’s so obsessed with. It’s the artist. Wordcount: 3, 686 The reader is referred to as she/her. “Nihilism represented a crude form of positivism and materialism, a revolt against the established social order; it negated all authority exercised by the state, by the church, or by the family.” - Encyclopedia of Britannica

“It's hideous.” He murmured, his eyes narrowed with contempt. They were a hot magenta hue, quick-moving and critical of everything they fixed on. How much he wished to say he was standing back to admire a masterpiece. Tossing his paintbrush into the kitchen sink with a sigh, he sauntered to the couch and plummeted down on it.

A loud clang was heard, but it never fazed his companion, who barely dodged the trajectory of the brush. “Oh, really?” They snorted. “It looks the same as every other painting you've done.”

He whipped his head to him and glared.

“Like you'd have an eye for these things, Lutz.”

Said man gave a shrug. This was probably the hundredth time they had this conversation, so he could practically predict what Luciano was about to say—and how he would wind up listening unwillingly to his passionate spiels.

“Just listen to me speak for once.”

Lutz scoffed and poured himself a hot cup of coffee. “Here we go again...” He grumbled with a distinct droop to his features.

Rolling his head back to the pristine, white ceiling, Luciano threw his hands up in emphasis. “It's the only damn thing that gives this room some color. I need to do better, Lutz. Otherwise, I'll tear this whole place down!” Even then, his animated movements were minuscule compared to the tall walls that surrounded him.

The other sipped on his mug. “If you're so stuck—” He smacked his lips. “—how about going to the new art gallery downtown? Anything to get you to shut up.” Lutz grinned at that, half-expecting him to launch a few throwing knives his way. But he never did. Instead, he jumped up and extended an index to point at him accusingly.

“You think you're so smart, huh, cazzo? Well, I might just go. Just to prove you wrong.” Grabbing his coat hanging over the couch, he threw it on and marched downstairs. As the echoes of his footsteps faded, he gave one final reckoning. “You can't rush art, dumbass! I'll turn the place upside down, and I still won't find anything worth my time.”

The volume of his thoughts had never been so loud. It was the only thing he heard in this quiet institution during its downtime. Nobody was around, save for him, but that allowed him to ramble to himself--whatever he was staring at, it was everything he had been looking for.

“This was definitely worth my time.” He muttered with a pistol grip on his chin. As he scanned over the canvas to take in the brushstrokes, he shook his head. “I hate to think he said something smart for once.” They were so violent, yet so gentle. A unique balance of nihilism and faith. Reaching up to his dark maroon hair, he dug through it and laughed in awe. “This is magnificent. Bellisima!”

“I hope you mean what you say, sir. That means a lot to me.” He turned to the voice ended up gawking at a woman. As he processed the words, he was at a loss for his own.

“Oddio--you don't mean you painted this, do you, signorina?”

She nodded coyly, much to his delight.

“Mhm. The name on the label is mine.”

At the sound of that, he gleamed and took both her hands into his own. “How much?”

She blinked, unsure of whether she heard him correctly. Was he offering to buy her work? “Sorry?”

“How much do you want for your painting? I'll pay you handsomely. One grand. Ten grand. However much you desire! I just need this in my living room. Whatever you ask for, it's a done deal!”

In your short career, you never imagined capturing someone's attention so passionately with your work. Your initial impression of the man was a rich art collector of some kind--an eccentric enthusiast--and not a connoisseur by any means. He even dressed the part, having adorned himself in a loose, silky blouse with a coat tied around his waist. His fashion was flashy and exuded confidence, though nothing else could have suited his personality.

As you talked to him over a coffee, however, it became clear to you he was much more than that.

“I've never seen somebody use color like that! You must've done lots of practice to get that good, eh?” He mused, watching you light up at his praise. There was no denying the sincerity in his voice, so you couldn't help being drawn to him and his zeal. “I'll be honest with you, bella. I'm not letting you run off before we settle on something.”

He could tell from the way you leaned in so subtly, never once breaking your eye contact as you listened to him. And knowing this did wonders--he slowly found himself drawn to you.

“Thank you, Luciano. I'm really flattered, but I can't just sell it to you. It's part of the gallery now.” You smiled gently, curling your fingers around the cup handle. Even as you sipped on your beverage, your gaze on him never faltered. And before you could catch any disappointment on his part, you waved your hands at him.

“I don't mean anything by it, honestly. I'm glad that you understand what I'm trying to say--like, you could've interpreted it completely differently. I wouldn't be able to stop you, either. But the fact that you didn't...” He followed you attentively with those sharp and mysterious orbs, but you were strangely comfortable under his scrutiny.

“Maybe we have similar minds.”

The man had been studying you as you spoke. While he did, this one, singular thought occurred to him. There was nothing in the world he loved more in the world than being heard.

“Hearing you talk is the same as being listened to,” Luciano admitted with a small laugh. Deep inside, he knew Lutz always listened. Unwillingly, that was. But being heard and understood was another story. “You take the words right out of my mouth, bella. I don't know how you do it, but you have to stop reading my mind. It's invasive.” He darted his eyes over your expression that morphed into dumbfoundedness--which served as a prelude for embarrassment.

So he couldn't help but smile flirtatiously. “Take me out to dinner first. Only then will I let you finish my sentences.”

You furrowed your brows together, but his smile was far too contagious to be staved off. The end result was an endearingly stupid face that was a cross between a frown and a grin. “Does lunch count then, you impossible little man? I mean, it's around noon.”

He shook his head, amused. Luciano expected you to pull away, but it seemed like he bit off more than he could chew. You were a handful. He was never a fan of handfuls or really anything that required his energy, but he'd be damned if this was the last time he saw you.

“But seriously, (F/N). I need your paintings. And it doesn't have to be something you've already painted.” Standing up at that, he neared your side lowered himself to your level. He settled a hand on your shoulder, much to your surprise. But you never tried to pull away. “I want you to paint for me at my place. I'll do whatever it takes. I'll drink my weight in this mediocre coffee if I have to.”

With his intoxicating personality, all he needed was a few more espressos to do the convincing.

“I can tell from your taste that you're pretty nihilistic.” You commented with a hint of disbelief. “But this is just crazy! What do you even do for a living?” All the expensive decor and extravagance of his stupidly large mansion must have costed a fortune! Lifting your head to take in the sheer size and height of his living room, you then shot him an incredulous look. “Well? I'm curious.”

Luciano leaned against the couch and folded his arms. “Oh, you don't want to know, trust me.” He grinned devilishly.

“What, are you in the mafia or something?” You joked.

He craned his head from right to left.

“Eh. Something like that.”

You blinked, not expecting him to be so frank. Then, you laughed sheepishly, suddenly feeling as if you've walked right into a trap. “... Are you serious?” The man sensed your uneasiness and walked over promptly. Before you could react, he held your arm, but it was much too gentle to stir any panic.

“Don't worry. Nobody would go after an artist I hired.” He leaned in to keep you hostage to his piercing eyes. The close proximity only heightened the tension you didn't know existed. What he said next, however, would have you blushing like a bride. “To have a target on your head means you're a liability. So unless we were an item--”

He smiled contently at the sight of your reddening cheeks. “--nothing will happen.”

Fortunately, your mortification was short-lived as you remembered your circumstances. Giving him a light shove, you walked off to his hallway. While your back was turned to him, he bit back a sharp grin, but to no avail. Man, were you feisty.

“Stop being such a womanizer and show me your studio, Luciano.” You mused, pausing in the doorway to glance at him over your shoulder. Was that playfulness he saw in your eyes?

“It isn't very professional.”

He hung his head and threw his hands up. Being scolded and ordered around was his worst pet peeve. But when you did it, he was only more compelled to misbehave.

“Mi dispiace. But I was only kidding. If I was part of the mob, my windows wouldn't be this big. Nor this abundant.” Making his way to your side, he walked with you to the said studio.

“And Luciano is a bit of a mouthful, no? You call me Luci.”

Unbeknownst to the two of you, someone else had entered the kitchen to pour themselves a drink. And boy, were they in for a show.

“You got it, boss. You call the shots.” A voice spoke in a gravely-exaggerated mobster accent.

“You're milking it...”

“I'm just joking, Luci. Let me have this moment.”

“Fine. Maybe I should've kept pretending. That'll get you to be a little more obedient.”

“And where's the fun in that?”

“Hmph.”

Lutz narrowed his eyes once the voices faded into silence. And he thought he hated being called Luci.

A mischievous smirk plastered across his face.

“Looks like somebody's found their inspiration.”

A few hours later, he appeared in the studio with a canned beer in hand. Even in such a lavish estate, no form of entertainment could beat pestering an old friend. Waltzing inside like he owned the place, he grinned toothily at what he saw. You and Luciano were busy working on a painting. But rather than using brushes, you both used your fingers.

“Hey.”

Luciano glanced at him and immediately felt the beginnings of anger simmer inside. “What do you want?”

Lutz laughed breathily. “Heh. No knives today?”

“If you don't get out, there will be!” The other whisper-shouted.

You stopped painting and turned to the newcomer with nothing short of curiosity. “... Hi. Are you Luci's henchman?” The joke was probably long dead, but you couldn't resist. Not when the stranger was built on six feet of pure muscle. “Nice to meet you.”

So this was the mysterious artist who managed to tame the bastard, huh? Lutz flattened his lips thoughtfully. “... In a way.”

“No, he's not. Now, get out. Your presence is ruining the mood... And killing my brain cells.” At the sound of that, you exploded into a burst of hearty laughter. Seeing Luciano push him out and leave colorful handprints on his tank only intensified those laughs. Once he managed to get his henchman out of the room, he whipped his head to you with a flustered glare.

“What's so funny?” He frowned. For one, he was rather taken aback at how he wasn't annoyed at you. At all. If someone like Lutz pushed their luck by teasing him, there would be more than one scar marring that punchable face of his.

“Nothing, nothing. I just thought... Maybe we could ask for his top and sell it. That was definitely a masterpiece.” You sighed, catching him off guard yet again. “It's the best work you've done today...”

The blush on his face deepened. A comment like that should've ticked him off, but he only found himself thoroughly infatuated. But that was preposterous! He was only letting this slide because you weren't that German bastard of a bum. That had to be it. But no matter what you did, he didn't have a single mean bone in his body for you. And he was about to test that theory.

“If you thought that was a masterpiece, I'll make you some more.” Marching over and undoing your apron, he wiped his fingers all over your once crisp white shirt. Looking down with a gasp, you weren't prepared for him to clap your cheeks and leave two brown handprints.

“You bitch!”

In his whole life surrounded by the worst potty-mouths, himself included, he'd never heard somebody cuss with so much sincerity. So the most logical reaction was to return the favor, if not be a little annoyed. But even as you ruined his blouse, which happened to be more expensive than everything in the room, he was cackling hysterically.

By the time you both calmed down, he had settled his chin atop your head and wrapped two arms around your neck. The paint on his face was drying up, but he was in no hurry to wash it off. Giving you a squeeze, he leaned down and pressed his cheek to yours. “You're coming tomorrow, aren't you?”

“Mhm.”

“And the day after that?”

“I don't see why not.”

“Then what about the day after that?”

You faced him and pinched his cheek affectionately, but he never complained. “If I was, what's the point of leaving, hm? I have something on that day, but I'll update you.”

Standing up at that, you felt his arms slide off of your shoulders. Luciano pulled away reluctantly, and as you left his studio, he found himself trailing after you against his own will. As quiet as he was, inside, he was tearing himself apart, torn between asking you to stay in the guest room and driving you home. But in the end, he got in the car.

Once he arrived outside your house, his body acted out unexpectedly when he shot his hand out to grab yours. The sudden contact startled you, though you could only gleam at his paint-smeared face that stifled back a thousand words. “What, do you miss me that much already?” You chuckled, much to his pleasure.

“You're just missing me too less.” He closed his eyes for a satisfied look. When he opened them again, he added this. “I'll pick you up here. Same spot. 9 am. If you don't show up in five minutes, I'll break inside and pull you out of bed.” Only then did he let you go.

“You got it, boss.”

With that said, you waved at him and made your way inside. Once the door clicked shut, he returned his gaze to the dashboard and shook his head with a defeated smile. “Oh my god.”

When he climbed the flight of stairs to appear next to the kitchen, the hiss of an espresso machine was heard. Rolling his head to it absently, he dropped his keys on the island and dug his hands through his sticky hair. Without addressing the blonde, who took an obvious interest in his disheveled appearance, he sauntered to the couch and flopped down on it.

“... Luciano.”

“What do you want?” He muffled his voice into the cushion.

Lutz walked over with a mug in hand and sipped it. Pointing to his own face, he swirled his index in circles. “You have a little something there.” When the other rolled his head to him, so did their colorful face.

The next two days saw steady progress in the project he paid you to do. While the painting moved closer to completion, he cared less and less about the finished product. At the same time, his eagerness for you to come grew exponentially. He could never admit it, but that didn't mean Lutz couldn't see right through him.

A single glance at him working in the studio was more than enough to deduce the conclusion that he was hopelessly head over heels for you. For one, it wasn't right to say he was even working anymore. Instead, he was staring at you, and sometimes, for twenty minutes or more if you were particularly immersed in your art.

This was only confirmed in due time.

Trotting downstairs to the cellar, he discovered that over ten bottles of wine had disappeared. And the culprit promptly made an appearance when he returned to the living room. Luciano was holding an empty bottle when they bumped into each other, the contact on his shoulder causing him to drop it. When it shattered on the marble floor, so did his patience.

“What the fu--watch where you're going, you fucking idiot!” He hissed, giving the other a strong shove back.

Beer fizzed out of the can and splashed onto his white tank. Lutz couldn't care less about ruining his clothes, but wasting beer? He pulled back with a growl. “I could say the same for you. I'm not the stumbling drunk here cuz' I can actually hold my weight.”

Luciano rolled his eyes and inhaled a deep breath.

“You know what, just leave me alone.” He huffed, kicking the shards on the ground. Once he scattered the glass all over the hall, he stormed off to his studio. Letting out a frustrated string of colorful words, he tore through more canvases than he cared to count. Punching a hole in one, then using another as target practice, half of the artwork was completely destroyed by the time Lutz showed up.

“I don't get it! Why am I so angry? Why can't I paint something like this?” Luciano exasperated, gesturing forcefully to the painting you were working on. Then, he marched up to the man and gripped the front of his tank. “Am I just that shit? But that can't be!”

At this point, Lutz was done with arguing.

“... You know what I'm about to say.”

Luciano threw his hands up as they chorused the same line simultaneously. “It looks the same as every other painting you've done--yeah, I know! I didn't really expect you to give me any useful advice. I just wanted you to listen to me.”

“Don't I always listen to you?”

“No--”

“Wasn't it me who suggested for you to go to that art gallery?”

“Yeah, but it's not like--it's not like you knew she was gonna show up! (F/N) being there only happened once in a blue moon. You were just lucky, so don't think you're a genius or anything, ha!”

Lutz scoffed, but his unimpressed expression quickly morphed into a shrewd one. “Accept it, liebling. You're down bad. Down astronomically. Just invite her over, and when she comes, you'll know what I mean. It's not the paintings you're making a fuss over.” He watched Luciano's hair spike up like a cat, then him light up like a Christmas tree. That little man was many things, but an honest person was not one of them.

“You think you're so smart, huh, cazzo?” Luciano pointed at him accusingly. “Well, I might just do it. Just to prove you wrong.”

When he left, Lutz clicked his tongue with raised brows.

“That's what you said last time...”

And invite you over he did. When he spotted a silhouette on the other side of the blurry glass, he sprung up from the couch and swung open the door with great gusto. There you were, as effortlessly charming as he remembered, and a little startled. You never had the chance to knock, nor process his scruffy appearance.

“Luci--hey! You look... A little more tired than I remember.”

Without a shred of hesitation, he grabbed your hand and pulled you to his bedroom. Yet again, his body was acting against his will, but perhaps, this was what he wanted in the first place. He just never admitted it. As he slowly came to terms with it, his eyes widened to dinner plates, and his heart pounded obnoxiously in his chest.

“Hey, what're you--”

He pointed wordlessly to the bed.

You shook your head, unable to figure out what he meant. “What do you want me to do?”

Luciano glowered at you, but it served as a stark contrast to the softness in his voice. “I'll pay you. As much as you want. Just stay there.” Seeing that you had yet to go along with his requests, he marched over to you and laid you down. Before you could object, he threw the blanket over you and tucked you in.

Sliding himself in from the other side, he scooted in and coiled his arms around your stomach. “Now, sleep.”

Breathing out a soft sigh, you rolled to him and brushed his mussy bangs back. “For someone so straightforward, you're not very honest, are you?” Sitting up to unzip your jacket, you proceeded to take your shirt off. When you stripped down, blood rushed to flush his cheeks as he came to realize he was completely love-struck.

“... Holy shit.”

Climbing onto his lap, you laughed over his lips and squeezed his neck. “You're really bad at hiding things. But like you said, I can read your mind.”

Luciano knitted his brows together. Then, he leaned in and pressed a kiss to your mouth. “And it's very invasive. Please stop it.”

“Only if you promise to pay me in the morning.”

“... You're not a prostitute.”

“Oh, but you are one too. We're all whores, if you think about it. We just sell different parts of ourselves.”

“Go to sleep, idiota.”

“Yeah, yeah.”

[gb-patch]

Ask Answers: June 6th, 2021

I’m back with more ask responses! You can also check our Frequently Asked Question sheet if there’s something you’re wondering that’s not answered here.

FAQ   Also, if you prefer to just see the main posts without all the asks/reblogs, feel free to follow our side account instead: GB Patch Updates Blog

Thank you for the patience with these questions  ♡

Hey in very beginning of step 3 in the scene where Mr.Holden had a thought dancing on the tip of his tongue but he kept it to himself after MC and Cove were being cute (idk if it makes a difference but this is when they're dating)... Can we know what he was thinking/ wanted to say? It's been bugging me lol 

He would’ve gone into a “look how much you’ve grown”, “your dad is so proud of you”, “I’m so glad things worked out with the MC”, and etc spiel, haha. But he resisted the urge to fawn on his baby boy, at least for that scene.

If we planned to move away for college/future plans in step 3, is it implied that MC and Cove would have a long distance relationship for sure? Could MC have convinced Cove to come with them? How is the dynamic of their relationship going to be addressed in Step 4, if that makes sense? 

Cove is willing to follow the MC where they went after everything is settled for them there, and if they’re sure they want him to come! You’ll get to decide how things shook out during those transitional years just by making choices about it during the opening prologue of Step 4.

Hi! First off, how does it feel to have created one of the best games when it comes to inclusion for lbtq+ peeps? I've never felt as validated with my identity and sexuality when playing a game and I'm seemingly not alone ♥ Second, and this might be a little too specific, but what kinds of drinks does Cove like as well as dislike? Thank you, you're the best ♥

Thank you for very much! It’s really nice to hear the game felt inclusive. Cove likes regular water and fruit juices/smoothies most! He dislikes coffee and cola, and he’s not super into most teas either.

Hi, may i ask what gb patch stands for? Specifically the gb part lol

It stands for my old, silly username I used in places like Neopets as a kid, aha. The company name wasn’t super thought out since it was originally just me making VNs as a hobby. Luckily, “GB Patch” kind of seems like it could mean something reasonable, so I didn’t have to rebrand when it did become a more serious, commercial group.

If we chose to not propose to cove in the step 3 dlc would he propose or would the mc propose in step 4 or the wedding dlc? 

Yeah, you or Cove can propose in Step 4 if you’re not already engaged! The Wedding DLC takes place after the engagement so the proposal scenes aren’t there.

will you guys announce if the early access for the new game is out on patreon ? 

When beta builds of Step 4 or whatever start coming out on the Patreon we will mention it here on social media too.

Heyy I just had a quick question about Baxter if that’s okay :)?

I saw in an ask+answer that it’s possible to casually date Baxter In step 3, but what leads up to that? I have the step 3 dlc and I’ve tried playing them In a different orders and ways but it doesn’t seem to get anywhere ^^;

The Step 3 DLC is Cove-based because he’s the default guy. There’s a separate Baxter romance DLC that’s not out yet. That’s where you can get him to date you. I’m sorry for the confusion!

Will we ever get any LI's or side characters with physical disabilities or deformities? I think your games would be a great place to have them in since they're always so accepting and safe! 

Yeah, we do hope to have representation for that in future projects ^^. Thank you for the confidence in us.

Is it possible to get Cove to take the bed and MC to sleep on the floor? 

Not in Step 3, I’m afraid.

So, I have played the prologue of Our Life countless times and I haven't gotten the [Your Life] achievement, why is that? 

Steam sometimes isn’t connected properly when an achievement unlocks and so it remains locked on your account. If that happens, unfortunately getting the scene again won’t unlock it. The achievement becomes inaccessible because the game thinks you already have it. Playing with the same Steam account on a different device or fully deleting your game data (more than the only the save files) are the only work arounds we’ve found.

Since when you talk with Jeremy in step 3 it's mentioned he goes on dates with someone (which assume is JB because who else would take this boy on dates) that makes him happy, does that sort of make JB and Jeremy the canon relationship in the first game?

The default for XOXO Droplets is that JB casually goes on dates with each of the jerks! Shiloh would’ve been harsher if Jeremy was the only guy getting her attention, haha. But the player can change that default by dating just one person the whole game for their own story and who she ends up with for real has no default.

Hi, hello! Huge OL fan, thank you so much for the wholesome content, it was very much needed during these times. Managed to get several people to join team Cove, so that's very exciting, I always have people to fawn over him with. I have a little question and I'm sorry if it was asked before, but does it ever come up in the game what Cove has told his mom about us? (who knows, with so many options, one can miss it) Or, alternatively, will it come up in the Step 4 DLC? 

Thank you very much for sharing the game with people <3. It’s really great to hear people are liking it. Right now that doesn’t come up in game. Kyra is willing to keep her mouth shut and Cove isn’t gonna have that conversation either. At least not when he’s younger, but yes, perhaps when he’s a fully grown big boy in Step 4 you can ask him about it.

I’ve been thinking about this ever since it has been confirmed that there would be two love interests for OL2, would there be the possibility of forming a polyamorous relationship with both love interests? I’m sorry if you answered this previously, I’m just curious. 

We are considering it, but it’s not a guarantee yet. It’d be really great to have but it’d add so many extra alterations that’d need to made, aha.

Hello! You mentioned how Cove would be uncomfortable with kids at 23, but how old would he be when he’s comfortable with having/adopting kids? (Same goes for the other LI’s.) btw, love your game!! 

He’d want to be at least 25, but even older would be good. Derek would want to have kids when he and his partner could reasonably support them, the age itself wouldn’t matter. If they were doing good at 22 and wanted kids, he’d be up for it. Or they could wait until their 30s or whatever. Baxter is also more of a “when it feels right” guy rather than having a specific age requirement. Cove is just especially wary of being a young parent because of his own parents. I’m happy you like the game!

does step 4 immediately play after you press "end summer" in step 3? or is there another button/transition (like the story text thingy) before the epilogue begins? what happens after the epilogue? roll credits? 😂 

Step 4 will have transition section always and there will be an extra button, if you own the Derek or Baxter DLC. By default the Cove-based version of Step 4 just plays once Step 3 is over. However, having the other guys’ storylines will mean you get to pick which version of Step 4 plays; Cove Step 4 (the basic one), Derek Step 4, or Baxter Step 4.

Happy pride, thank you for all you do for us🥰

I have a quick question though, I recently got a MacBook after my old windows computer broke, and now steam says I cannot download it, but it has no issues with other games, what can I do to download it?? I’m sorry if my English is bad

Happy pride month! Unfortunately, Our Life isn’t available for Mac on Steam right now. To be an approval application Apple requires having special notarization and we as a small group haven’t gotten that. Itch doesn’t care and lets us release the game for Mac there anyway, Steam does care so we’re locked out of putting the Mac build up on their storefront. Feel free to email us and we can try to help the situation out further!

support@gbpatchgames.com

Hello! I was jus wondering if the Baxter and Derek DLCs are still happening? I haven’t heard anything about them on here or patreon in a while so I just wanted to make sure ^^

They’re still coming and we just released a new sprite sketch on the Patreon for the Derek DLC c:. But right now Step 4 is still much more of a priority. Once that’s closer to being done we’ll focus way more on sharing previews for the other guys.

is it possible to tell cove you love him (platonically) at step 3 fondness/selecting him as basically family? i just love the mc and liz sibling interactions and it got me wondering about it (especially if you've selected that option)

You and Cove can be as close as family, but there’s not a specific scene in Step 3 where you say “I love you” in a family context. But there’s always Step 4~

do you intend on ever adding a collectors mode to Our Life? Like a way to collect achievements and CGs for the gallery without it effecting any save files? 

We weren’t considering it before. But if a lot of players would find that helpful, we could start thinking on that!

Sorry if it's a silly question haha, but (in crush/love) is Cove really aware of how cute and cuddly he seems to MC? If so, what does he think or do about it? Or does he just ignore it? 

He isn’t particular aware. Cove never truly stops being surprised that the MC is interested in/attracted to him, haha.

Would you say that the alone ending of xoxo droplets is worth playing again to get? 

Nope, haha. The goal is to make friends/get a boyfriend and so the alone ending is kind of the bad ending for the game. Though there is a consolation prize if you get it by accident.

Is there any possible situation which would ever prompt Pran to bake for his girlfriend? Like I know it's unlikely I mean even if JB broke her leg somehow I'm pretty sure he'd still be like "I considered baking you a cake and doing the frosting the way I think looks interesting but you don't deserve a cake, no one does." right but also ahhh it would be super nice if some day he just surprised her with baked goods one day out of nowhere. JB would be so shocked it would be cute. So is there any possible situation where that could/would be a thing that he would do? 

He might bake out of spite, like if he felt he had to prove her wrong on something. Or if JB used some good reverse psychology on him. Or he might do it in a relatively nice way if he could make his GF so shocked by the kind gesture that his amusement with that overrode his insistence on not being sweet. Pran is very difficult in high school, aha.

Is the "one route (where) it can be seen that Everett will drop his seemingly eternal waging with Jeremy pretty easily and can start getting along without thinking much on it" the Lucas route? I'm curious! 

Yep! Everett will side with Jeremy if it’s between him and Lucas.

Hi I hope you guys are having a great day :) I just had to ask how Cliff would feel about Cove's partner/fiancé Mc calling them dad whether it be accidental or otherwise and secondly I also wanted to ask how he would feel about being asked to be the one to give the mc away at their wedding. 

He would be very touched and excited! I hope you have a good day too :D

Hello! I saw an ask relating to whether Cliff "moves on" after Cove's grown up and stuff (and he stays single), but what about Kyra? Will she be with anyone else or will she stay single? 

She does start dating again, but she takes it slow.

Hi! I absolutely love the art for characters in OL and I wonder is this fine to draw my MC in same drawing style and upload online later? Is this something artists would be okay with? Thank you! 

Yeah, you can certainly do that C:

Hey there!

I wonder if I'm just being stupid here.. Is Step 4 a DLC? And if so, where can I find it? I can't seem to find it on Steam :< Thank you!

Step 4 is a free epilogue! It’s not done yet, but once it is finished you’ll just update your game file and Step 4 will be there after Step 3 ends.

hi! are step 4 and the wedding dlc two different things?

They are. Step 4 is a free epilogue that’ll be a default part of the game once it’s done, the wedding DLC is an optional paid expansion that takes place after Step 4.

Why did Baxter not receive a step 2 sprite seeing how he shows up later

Sprites are time consuming to draw and take money out of the budget that could’ve gone to other things. His tiny appearance in Step 2 wasn’t worth all the effort to make a sprite, aha.

I just realized, what happens if if you get the patreon exclusive moment but at a later date, when you don't have the membership anymore, it's updated (like a bugs fix update for example)? Would you have to get the membership again? 

You would have to get the membership again to redownload the build. But there’s very little chance there’s going to be an update once it’s been out for over a month. If a build gets released with errors, players catch/report them within the first few days. So by the time the first subscription period ends, any problems that were noticeable would already have been fixed. And we’re certainly not gonna be adding new content to it once it’s been released for a long time. There’s no need to worry about missing out on something worthwhile in the future if you cancel your membership. It’s being made with the idea in mind that many players are gonna be getting it and then going.

Hello! Wanted to ask about gaming choice in step 3? Once upon a playthorugh I got the option to buy Cove a bracelet for his graduation present. I played the same basic character again and that option wasn't there anymore. I'm not sure where I went wrong. My Cove wears a bracelet on each hand and my MC is into fashion and jewelry. Do I need to put an earring on him or? Sorry, love your game so much. 

He also needs to have liked bracelets in Step 2 for that to be considered a good gift option for him. Sorry for the confusion! I’m happy you love the game :)

Is Step 4 being released at the same time as the Wedding DLC or will the first come before the latter? Thank you! 

I’m not sure. Ideally they’ll come out at the same time, but the wedding DLC has a lot of art to get done and we may have to release it after Step 4.

Can mc still get confession from Cove at the end of step 3 even if mc casually dates Baxter in step 3? Such as in crush mode? 

I don’t think so. Maybe that’ll change, but generally there’s differences to the Step 3 ending if you were dating Baxter and those differences likely will conflict with getting the Cove confession.

For the patreon moments/dlcs, will it be available for all tiers? 

It’ll be available for tier 2 (Fans) and up!

[violetlilysunshine]

Late Night

Chris Evans x Female Reader

Summary: You meet Chris working in a bar, before he invites you to his house after closing.

WC: 3,525

Warnings: maybe a quick make out?? idk if I need to warn that, but better safe then sorry. Fluff, fluff, fluff 

A/N: I’m sort of feeling a part two, because I’ve been in such a fluffy turned smutty mood recently. Anyone down?? Lemme Know :)

Tagging the lovelies that wanted this! @maximeevansblog @saltyflowermakertaco

MASTERLIST

You’ve been working in this small bar for years now; it mainly catered to older folks, the owners having fallen in love with the 40s and 50s and themed their bar after that. You quickly fell in love with the decades as well, hearing the old music and seeing all of the older people’s faces light up, reliving their glory years. However, usually, there were a couple younger groups there to relish in the theme a bit.

You started as a waitress at 18, trying to work your way through college. Quickly, you moved up to bartender, before one slow night when you randomly decided to sing along to one of the songs that the Thursday night live band always played. They were a pretty good group, and you soon found yourself listening to the songs they played in your free time. After you sang with them, the owners decided to add you to the regular Thursday night entertainment, still bartending on other nights.

You were nearing the end of your set, just two more songs to go before you could take off the heels you had ridiculously decided to wear tonight. They were very 50s and you loved the look, but, carelessly, you hadn’t broken them in yet. You thought you would be fine, but your typical little dance during Fly Me to the Moon had suffered greatly. However, they matched your midi-navy-polka-dot dress and your pin-up style curls, so it wasn’t a total loss.

“Alright everybody, we’re getting close to that time of the night,” you hummed into the microphone, “for this next one we’re gonna slow things down a bit. To those of you I’ve been watching sit in your chairs all night, you’ve only got two more chances to ask your ladies to dance. Even if you don’t know how, ask her anyway, she'll love it.” you joked.

The band started to play Paul Anka’s Put Your Head on My Shoulder, a personal favorite of yours.

“And remember, if anyone needs a partner, I’m ready and willing,” you joked as the intro played. Quite a few times, older men who no longer had a partner took you for a spin for a song or two and you loved it.

You hummed a bit before you started singing along.

As you were singing, you watched a few of the younger guys in the back finally bring their girls out on the floor. Smiling as you watched them, you swayed back and forth.

You kept going with the song, almost at the end, glad that someone hadn’t asked you to dance, because your feet were really killing you.

You finally finished it off, earning a small applause as you twirled with the mic.

“Alright y’all, last song of the night and you know what that means as well,” you spoke to the crowd, “last call for alcohol,” you sang out.

You pointed back at the bar, and your friend who was tending tonight, before she waved at the group. A few people left the dance floor to get a drink as you continued your end of the night spiel, “fellas still sitting by themselves, last chance to take a spin on the floor. I see you still sitting there in the back! It’s a short song, I promise,” you chastised the last table you saw still sitting there.

Two couples from that table got up to dance, leaving one man sitting by himself. You felt kind of bad for turning everyone’s attention to him, but you had offered earlier to dance if anyone needed a partner, so the ball was in his court.

You signaled to the band to start up and spoke, “alright here we go,” into the mic.

It’s Been a Long, Long Time kicked off, and you instantly swayed. The band didn’t usually play this song, but after your Marvel obsession kicked in, you convinced them to add it to the set list.

You sang away, loving life, but your eyes didn’t leave the man in the back. He was obscured by shadows - probably purposefully - but you felt drawn to him already. Something about him sent tingles down your spine.

Before you knew it, the song was over. You took a small bow before turning and pointing at your band, getting the audience to applaud them individually.

“Thanks everybody, have a good night and drive safe. Hope to see you next week!” you spoke quickly and everyone filed off the dance floor to collect their things.

“Thanks, you guys, that was a good show!” you spoke to the band before you rolled up your mic cord and packed it away backstage. As soon as it was safely in its case, you took a seat on one of the saxophone cases and started rubbing your feet.

Soon, the band came back to put their instruments away and you reluctantly gave up your seat. You headed to the bar to sit with your friend while she finished cleaning up; this gave you a chance to rest your feet a little more before attempting to maneuver yourself home.

You glanced around the room quickly and everyone had cleared out except the back table. They were all standing, putting on jackets, and just beginning to file out the door. The couples went first hand-in-hand, followed by the single man. You looked back at your friend and began to make small talk about the next night, seeing as you were off, before you felt a tap on your shoulder.

“That was a great set,” the man spoke out in a low raspy voice, “I wish I had a dance partner.”

“Thank you, but if I remember correctly, I did offer to dance with anyone. Anyone included you, Chris,” you quipped back lightly, chuckling.

“Well, doll, the way you were stumbling about up there, I didn’t want to risk it,” he joked back, “and you know who I am?”

“I’m gonna head in the back to finish cleaning up and then we can go,” your friend spoke, gently tapping your forearm. You usually carpool to work because you live a few houses down from each other and it just makes sense.

“Alright, sounds good,” you answered her before turning back to Chris, “well I did just sing Steve and Peggy’s song. I wouldn’t be doing it justice if I didn’t know at least its major history. And I don’t think I was stumbling.”

“Okay, fair,” he answered, “maybe stumbling wasn’t the right word, but I can tell your feet hurt in those shoes.”

A small silence settled between the two of you as you got lost in his eyes, barely registering what he had said. His lips curled into a small smile as he gazed back. His eyes darted from yours to your lips for only the slightest second, before wandering down to your feet, which you were rolling slightly on the leg of the barstool, attempting to massage them a little. He looked back into your eyes again, his smile growing. The tension in the room rose quickly, and you began to get a little hot under his gaze. You were wondering how you ever got so lucky to have Chris freaking Evans looking at you like that.

“I’d offer to get you a drink, but you did say last call a little while ago,” he spoke slowly.

“That I did,” you answered, “maybe next time.”

“Or, I could take you somewhere else,” he offered lightly, his voice raising in pitch.

“Hmm, I don’t know if my feet are up for it,” you said softly, “and I don’t know where else we would go on a Thursday night. Everyone is probably announcing their own last call.” You were surprised by your own confidence in front of him. You had no idea how you were keeping it together, let alone flirting.

“Another option,” he suggested, “I could offer you a nightcap at my place. Or maybe coffee? A glass of wine?”

“Eager there are we?” you quipped.

“Well, what can I say, that last song did it for me,” he chuckled, “but really, it would be totally casual, no expectations.”

You thought for a moment, weighing the options. He probably wasn’t a murderer, or a kidnapper. He was probably one of the gentlest guys you could go home with, and lord knows you’ve taken a few risks with others.

“Totally casual doesn’t sound too bad.”

“Really?” he asked, “great! Do you have a car here?”

“No, we carpool,” you said, gesturing at your friend who had just walked back into the room.

“Ready to go?” she asked.

“Actually I was going to head out with Chris,” you said, looking at him while you spoke.

“Oh, okay,” she said, her voice dropping slightly, “well, I’ll lock up the front and we can head out the back together then.”

“Great,” Chris answered, his eyes never leaving you.

You slipped your shoes back on and stepped down from your stool. You grabbed your purse from next to you and turned to grab your jacket, which was no longer on the back of your chair. You looked up and saw Chris holding it open for you and you slipped your arms in, your heart swooning wildly. You smiled at each other and followed your friend out the back.

You hugged her quickly, whispering “I’ll send you my location,” in her ear. After all, a girl can’t be too careful.

You followed Chris to his car around the front of the building, where he opened the door for you before jogging around to the driver’s side.

His car was nice, as to be expected, but not flashy and you enjoyed his modesty. It smelled freshly cleaned - a big plus - but also rode incredibly smoothly. You were more than content to drive around with him, listening to pop songs and belting out musicals, but before you knew it, he was pulling into his driveway.

He got out first, stepping out quickly. You waited half a second, sending your location to your friend quickly. As you were reaching for the door handle, it was being pulled from the outside. Always a gentleman, he is.

Chris flashed you a charming smile as you stepped out, swinging your purse over your shoulder.

“This way, darlin’,” he spoke lowly, shutting the car door. His hand was quick to find a home on your lower back, gently guiding you towards the front door.

Once up the stairs, he crossed in front of you, unlocking the door and slowly pushing it open. The alarm on the wall chirped, signaling the opening of the front door. Chris quickly bent down with his hands in front of his knees, preparing for the impact. Dodger came flying around the corner having heard the chirp, and slammed right into his dad’s hands before jumping onto his dad’s legs begging for pets.

“Hey bubba, how you doin’?” Chris spoke to his best friend, rubbing his ears, “this here is Y/N, be nice to her buddy, no jumping.”

Dodger quickly took notice of you and immediately tried to jump onto your legs, a greeting you weren’t necessarily against, but since Chris said no, you quickly pushed your hand down and met him on the ground. He sat at your feet, immediately accepting your presence.

“He never does that!” Chris spoke, shocked at how quickly Dodger took to you.

“What can I say? I must be magic,” you joked and shrugged at him, making him laugh.

“Well let’s move out of the doorway, yeah?” Chris asked before closing the front door behind you.

Chris moved to the side of the hallway quickly; he kicked off his shoes and encouraged you to do the same. You happily followed suit, aching to get those damn heels off again. You sighed in contentment once your bare feet hit the cool hardwood floor, throwing your head back slightly, closing your eyes, and breathing deeply.

“That bad, huh?” Chris chuckled, waiting for you at the end of the hall.

“Oh yeah, I definitely have to get used to those before I try to wear them again,” you answered back.

“Well, follow me and we’ll figure out that drink I offered.”

You set your purse on the bench next to your shoes before following him into the kitchen. He strolled around the island, resting his forearms on the island.

“Take a seat, doll,” he encouraged you, gesturing to the barstools on the other side.

Usually you wouldn’t have obliged so quickly, offering to help him make whatever, but given the state of your feet, you hopped up quickly.

“Alright, so you have a lot of options, water as always, coffee, beer - my personal favorite - tequila, a slew of other liquor, juice, soda, milk, - which would be weird but whatever - wine, take your pick,” he said smiling at you.

“Coffee sounds good to me, to be honest,” you answered quietly. You would’ve chosen beer simply because it was his favorite, but you weren’t a big fan if you’re being honest.

“Coffee it is, gorgeous,” he answered, filling the pot with water and loading in the grounds, “milk, creamer, sugar, black? What do you like?”

“Milk and sugar would be good.”

“You sure? I’ve got peppermint creamer,” he coaxed you.

“On second thought...” you chuckled, taking him up on his offer.

“Alright, doll, peppermint it is,” he laughed.

Soon the coffee was ready and as excited to try the peppermint creamer as you were, you could’ve watched him flutter around the kitchen for days. He handed you a sleek navy blue mug, taking a red one himself.

“Shall we head to the living room?”

“Whatever you want, it’s your house,” you laughed.

“Alright, follow me,” he said, leading the way, “you too, Dodge,” he called over the island. Dodger had been sitting at his feet the whole time, watching his dad.

He settled into one arm of the couch, pulling the coffee table closer to rest your mugs on. He placed his mug down and gestured for you to join him. You sat on the other end of the sofa, gently, looking over at him. He threw an arm over the back of the couch, kicked his feet out in front of him, and turned his body towards yours. Dodger watched you sit down and looked at you, almost saying “you’re in my spot,” before turning around and going over to his bed by the fireplace.

“How’re your feet doing now?” he asked you.

“They’re okay, it may take a few days to recover,” you laughed back, turning to face him as well. You held your mug in one hand, bringing the other to your foot as you swung your legs up at your side.

Chris reached over towards your feet, pulling them into his lap, “here let me,” he spoke.

You blushed lightly at the very domestic action, but who would say no to a beautiful man rubbing their feet? He massaged them gently and you let out a little groan.

“You really don’t have to do that, but you’re so good at it I don’t want you to stop,” you told him.

“Well then I won’t stop, darlin’.”

He looked at you from across the couch, making your heart swoon again. You let out the quietest moan, enjoying the work of his hands, and closed your eyes.

Chris laughed lightly, whispering something to himself under his breath. You were a little lost in the moment, so you didn’t hear him.

“Sorry, what was that?” you asked him.

“Oh, nothing, just talking to myself,” he answered. You knew that wasn’t the case, but let it rest anyway; it couldn’t have been too important.

Chris started asking you about your work and friends and family, what kind of movies you liked, and music preference of course. You asked him as well, really getting to know each other. He had stopped rubbing your feet a long time ago, but kept them in his lap, an arm thrown across them, rubbing your shins and ankles lightly. Dodger was snoring loudly across the room, and had been for quite a long time. The both of you were so lost in the conversation, that you didn’t realize how late it had gotten. You glanced out the window behind him, beginning to see the sunrise.

“Oh my goodness, what time is it?” you asked him, chuckling.

He glanced at his phone quickly, “almost 5:00,” he said with wide eyes, “I didn’t realize it had gotten so late.”

“I’m so sorry,” you said a little embarrassed, “I’ve stayed way too long, I’ll just get out of your hair.” You began to pull your legs out of his lap, but he locked them down.

“You don’t have to leave if you don’t want to,” he spoke quietly, “I’ve really enjoyed your company.”

“Are you sure? I don’t want to overstay my welcome…” you trailed off.

“Positive, sweetheart. Please, stay.”

“Okay, if you’re sure,” you asked him, raising an eyebrow. He nodded slightly at you. “Then I'll stay,” you said, settling back into the couch.

“Can I get you another cup?” he asked, gesturing to your mug.

“Sure,” you answered lightly, handing it to him. He got up and trailed into the kitchen. You waited half a second before following him.

Chris heard you walk into the kitchen, turning around to look at you quickly, “sorry, can I get you something else?”

“No, I’m fine,” you answered.

“Oh, well, uh… I would’ve brought your mug back to you,” he chuckled.

“Oh that’s okay, I felt weird just sitting there,” you laughed lightly.

“Oh, okay,” he chuckled back, “well, since you’re here now, can I offer you breakfast?”

You didn’t realize how hungry you’d gotten until he offered, “only if I can help,” you responded.

“Oh well, that’s a deal breaker, darlin’,” he answered, almost seductively.

“Well then no breakfast for me,” you laughed.

He was starving too, only having had a small dinner before he went to the bar last night. He didn’t know when you’d eaten last, so you must be hungry as well.

“Well, maybe there is one way, you can help,” he said in a high pitched voice.

“What can I do?” you asked quickly.

“Come here,” he said.

You walked around the island you had been leaning on, joining him between it and the cabinets on the wall. Chris extended a hand towards you. You took it quickly and allowed him to guide you closer to him. Once you were fully in front of him, he dropped your hand and grabbed both of your hips. He picked you up quickly, surprising you, before setting you on the counter.

You laughed lightly at him, “okay, now what?”

“Now, you sit there and look pretty while I make breakfast,” he chuckled out, standing between your knees, keeping a little distance between the two of you.

“Chrissssss,” you whine out at him.

“What, doll?” he asks, taking a step closer to you as you wrap your hands around his shoulders.

“I can do more than just sit here.”

“Oh, really?” he asks, taking another step towards you, now standing between your thighs, almost flush to the counter.

“Yeah, I can,” you breathe out, barely able to contain yourself now that he’s slotted between your legs.

“Nope, darlin’, this is enough help. Promise,” he says quietly.

Chris glanced down at your lips quickly before looking back into your eyes. He ran his hands up your thighs, starting at your knees, before settling onto your hips again. The temperature in the room seemed to rise at an unbelievable rate as you stared into each others’ eyes. You could feel his breath on your lips, you were sure he could feel yours as well, the smell of coffee and peppermint radiated between you. He slowly leaned in and connected your lips.

It was like time stood still. He moved one of his hands around to your lower back, pulling your body to the very edge of the counter and flush against his chest. The other hand stayed firmly on your hip, digging in just a little. You wrapped your arms around his neck even tighter as you molded your lips together. He licked your bottom lip slightly, asking for entrance, which you granted. He explored your mouth just a little bit before pulling back, breathless, and resting his forehead against yours.

“Well, that was, uh…” he spoke.

“Yeah,” you answered, breathless as well.

You held his gaze for another second before moving forward and kissing him once again. You pecked him sweetly, before mumbling against his lips.

“I’ll let you cook, as long as you let me clean up,” you laughed a little before connecting your lips again.

Chris let the kiss hang just a little longer than a peck before pulling back completely. He pecked your forehead quickly, before answering.

“No,” he said firmly, turning around and letting out a loud laugh, one you knew so well.

You laughed right back at him, watching him start to cook and shaking your head to yourself. How did you get so lucky?

[mycrofts-gunbrella]

Caring is the Greatest Advantage- Mycroft Holmes x Reader (Part 11)

A/N- Okay so this is just a short 2k fill in chapter! It’s kinda cute and kinda sad but it was too long to add to the last chapter, and it doesn’t fit in with the theme of the next chapter (though it sets it up quite nicely!). The next chapter is likely going to be a bit angsty but I promise it’ll have a rewarding ending to it! I hope to have it written and up sooner rather than later but, until then, enjoy this little piece.

Word Count- 2028

The ten minute drive from Baker Street to the Natural History Museum went by in a flash- most of it being spent by Mycroft giving you a mental tour of the building's various rooms and the 'most appropriate route to take'. Though it did also take a minute or two for you to convince him to not get everybody kicked out for a private visit, no matter how many people were there.. Admittedly, you hadn't been to the museum for 6 years or so now- after living so long in London it feels less of a luxury being only round the corner from it- but walking through the doors made you feel like a child again. Entry to the museum was free, but that didn't mean you didn't see Mycroft swiftly pushing a few notes into the donation bin at the front before guiding you forwards. Glancing up, you eyed the blue whale skeleton that hung from the ceiling and frowned. Mycroft caught your look and spoke up.

"Ah yes, Hope has been a relatively recent addition to the museum. She was found dead on an Irish beach back in 1891. It's a rather beautiful marvel to gaze upon, though, large as she is, she doesn't quite fill the hole in my heart that was left after my beloved Dippy was removed." Your eyes scanned the skeleton of the large mammal once more before looking back at Mycroft. "I did try to convince the board to keep the diplodocus somewhere but all attempts were futile. There's only so much force you can put into such a topic without exposing yourself as-"

"As a man who loves dinosaur bones more than he loves people?" Mycroft shoved his hands in his pockets and sighed.

"The very thing." Lifting your arm, you rested your hand at the crook of Mycroft's elbow to encourage him to move on.

"When we get home and have dinner we can raise a toast in Dippy's honour.. but for now, my mind's been taken over by that huge statue of Darwin." And the pair of you headed off, your hand very much staying place at Mycroft's arm as you wandered through the rooms- Mycroft more than willing to reel off facts about every deceased animal of history and, more often than not, even impressing the workers with his spiel of facts. Though you were very much enjoying wandering aimlessly through the room of human evolution, you most definitely noticed the pull from the man beside you as he was eager to reach his beloved dino-pals. As you turned the corner into the slightly darkened dinosaur room, you tripped over your feet slightly as you felt Mycroft stop in his tracks, his eyes wide and taking everything in. He looked as happy as a boy at Christmas and, quite frankly, it was adorable. You nudged him slightly when he still didn't move. "You okay?"

"Sorry, it just seems as though, no matter how many times I come here, it always feels like the first." He had shaken his head as though to bring his thoughts back to focus before taking a few steps into the gallery and leading you over to the skeletal remains of a Baryonyx. "The name Baryonyx roughly translates to 'Heavy Claw' from the Ancient Greek's 'Barys' meaning heavy and 'onyx' being claw or talon." He spoke, his voice smooth and relaxed as his fingers brushed over the board that announced the name of the creature within the glass. "It was also an excellent swimmer which it would use to its advantage while hunting." You listened to his every word as he spoke, grinning as he excitedly told you how many teeth it had and it's preferred techniques for capturing food before he moved you onto the next one.

"Oh these beauties have always been my favourite." You almost whispered, taking in the sight of the huge triceratops skull. You barely noticed Mycroft's hand shift from his pocket until you felt the heat of his palm against the small of your back, fingers squeezing slightly by your hip as he spoke.

"Mine too. Sherlock used to say they were boring and that we might as well have gone to the zoo to look at rhinos. He ended up spending 5 months trying to prove that the rhinos were descendants from the triceratops and then avoided me for 3 weeks when he realised there was no connection at all."

"That sounds about right. Though I can't imagine Sherlock enjoying it here very much anyway.." Mycroft began to guide you to a small bench just off the side to sit down, still giving you the view of the beautiful dinosaur bones.

"He didn't. When we were much younger he would kick off until Mummy and Father would tell us it's time to go and I had to go with them.. Then as we got a little older and Sherlock properly found his legs, he would simply run from the doors round to the science museum. Of course mummy and father had to follow him as he was so young, but one time I decided to stay here. They didn't realise I hadn't followed them until it was time to go home 5 hours later." Mycroft spoke quietly.

"Found his legs? That's at, what, four? Five? How young were you?"

"I was 9 the first time, I think." Now, Mycroft, you don't just 'think'; you know. Your hand moved to rest above his own on his knee, brushing your thumb fondly over his knuckles. "But it isn't all bad. Some of my best days as a child were spent here, and a lot of the staff were very kind and would teach me extra facts that weren't displayed. There was one gentleman who even gave me his own copies of some books that they had here. I'd wander the whole museum in time but I always found myself back here on this bench just.. watching. This room felt more like home than my very house sometimes. It was the room where I could escape the real world and find peace. Eventually Mummy, Father and Sherlock stopped bothering with the visits because Sherlock found the science museum boring after he'd prove them wrong on something each time, but I'd still pop back in on occasion without them.. Coming to think about it, I've never actually brought anybody here with me at all." You squeezed at his fingers and settled back into the bench.

"Well I am incredibly glad that I found out about your little interest, and I feel even more honoured that you let me come here with you." You beamed. And it was the truth. Evidently, this little museum meant much more to Mycroft than you could have ever imagined and it warmed your heart to know that he trusted you to see him nerd out over some bones.

"Eventually I used this very building as the scaffolding to build my mind palace. My files on Sherlock, very appropriately, are nestled in the human biology room. But most people's information is either stored in the entrance, where Dippy remains over Hope, might I add, or in a few of the rooms I find less interesting.." You didn't have to ask to know he was referencing 'that room with all the bloody rocks'. "I love most of the galleries too much to taint them with information on people that aren't important. The likes of Gregory and Doctor Watson now reside in Hintze Hall as the years have passed." His eyes remained focused in front of him, unblinking, as though he was wandering the very halls at that moment.

"And where.. where are my files?" You had to ask, really. Since he was on the subject anyway. "If you've put them in the marine reptiles room when you know I'm terrified of the ocean I shall never forgive you." Mycroft's hand flipped beneath yours so the pads of your fingers brushed before he blinked and looked over to you, a small smile on his face.

"Here." Oh. Well that's.. something. You shifted to give him a quick kiss on his cheek, knowing he wasn't overly fond of PDA and tugged him to stand.

"And on that note, I think we should go and grab some lunch before you make me cry in front of the dinosaurs."

---

After lunch, you both spent a few more hours walking from room to room (and of course circling round to the dinosaur gallery again) before you decided to call it a day at 4pm. Before departing, you headed towards the toilets that happened to be beside the little gift shop and you had a browse while Mycroft was occupied. Grinning, you picked up a deep blue plush triceratops and stroked a finger across its back. It was just small enough that, after purchasing, you could hide the little guy in the loose fabric of the sweatshirt you wore, acting innocent as you waited back outside near the wall. After going to the bathroom yourself, the pair of you headed outside where a car was waiting for you. Sliding in the back seat, you couldn't contain your little gift anymore.

"Surprise!" You laughed, producing the small toy from under your clothes and into the hands of the man beside you. He studied it briefly before beginning to laugh himself as he reached into his inner pocket and handed you the matching dinosaur, though purple in colour. "God, we're such children aren't we?" You noted as you swapped plushie companions, each of you brushing a finger on its nose as though it were a small pet. "I daren't think what your colleagues would say if they knew you were now the proud owner of a baby triceratops teddy that's.." You glanced at the tag. "..Suitable for children aged 12 months plus!"

"Probably nothing as bad as if they realised said triceratops was going to take proud placement on my desk at home." He beamed. "Thank you, this really does mean a great deal to me." You knew he wasn't just talking about the toy that rolled around his long fingers and you shifted to rest your head lightly on his shoulder.

"We can come back any time. I, for one, know I'll never get bored of looking through the galleries.. Or I'll never get bored of watching you light up as we walk through said galleries. Either or works, really." He hummed in response, his emotions slightly overwhelmed from the day and its revelations into his past. "Plus there were about 10 other little dinos in the shop and I've always been one to want a full collection.. so, if we pace ourselves, that's at least 10 more trips."

"13.. Although that could be tripled if we take the colour variations into account."

"Oh, of course! Can't half-arse a collection or it's just pointless."

"I concur."

"That's settled then. Almost 40 more trips to finish off our collection.. And thennnn we can move onto the figurines." Mycroft let out a laugh beside you and tilted to rest his head atop yours for the remainder of the journey home.

---

The evening between you was shared over a meal (where, as promised, a small toast was made to the memory of Sir Dippy) before Mycroft sat to finish the papers for Greg. Eventually you collapsed into bed at a relatively reasonable time, groaning at the throbbing in your legs from the day's adventure before finally slipping into rest.

---

The next day passed relatively quickly. The morning was spent visiting Greg in his office to drop off the papers before the pair of you took a small stroll through the streets of London. Eventually, Mycroft and yourself even got a text message from Sherlock giving a (albeit half-arsed) apology for his behaviour the day before and the rest of the day was spent in bliss. That was until exactly 17 minutes after you got back home when Mycroft's mobile began to ring. He swallowed deeply, showing you the caller ID of the person he had been dreading to speak to post-Eurus and answering.

"Ah, yes.. Hello, Mummy."

[wishingtobeinadifferentuniverse]

My Lady (Boromir x Fem!Reader)

Warnings: Fluff, fighting

Word Count: 1719

Requested: @thespiritoflife

A/N I really liked writing this, and I hope you enjoy it! I figure it was about time to write for Boromir. For some reason, my first thought went to the Rohan, I don’t know why, so yeah, enjoy a person from Rohan falling for the captain of Gondor lol. Also, screw canon, Boromir lives y'all.

“So, this is the Captain I’ve been hearing about lately, fighting in all those battles,” I leaned over the counter, handing a mug to the rugged, handsome man across from me. He shook his dirty blond hair out of his face, smiling. 

“I suppose that would be me,” He said modestly. “But really, you should see my companion Aragorn in action, he is the best out of everyone.” I was surprised with the way he talked about this other person, rather than talking about himself. Most of the men I have talked to were like that. I looked into his eyes, searching for any hint of malice or dishonesty, but he was being truthful. He meant it. I was surprised, but after all, I should expect nothing less from a man of honor. 

I smiled cheekily. “Well, I guess I should then. Tell me, a fine man like yourself must have a sweet lady at home. She’s very lucky to have someone like you,” I blurted out without thinking.

He choked a little on his drink and wiped his mouth before smiling again. “Well my lady, you would be surprised to hear that this is not the case. I wish I had something like that, but not just one that sits at home.” He winked, and I hid a giggle, still embarrassed about what I said. 

  “Now, go enjoy your drink, Captain.” The minute he turned around, I cursed myself for being so forward. This was one of the reasons I wasn’t married yet, and my mother definitely liked to tease me about it. Very well, I went back to cleaning mugs, as the joyous noise swelled. Everyone was celebrating, for good reason, after all, these men helped to save us from ruin and despair. It was terrifying at Helm’s Deep, all of us women and children were shoved into the caves. Well, most of them...

The night began to draw to a close as the noise dwindled down. But there was still the hint of celebration in the air, and I smiled for the sake of it. A few people came back for their last drinks, and drunken steps followed. One person came back, that I had hoped to not see again. Alas, the Captain of Gondor stopped in front of me, not quite taken by drink and exhaustion. 

“Enjoyed the party?” I asked, cleaning up the last of the drinks. He grinned and nodded. “Glad to hear it,” I said, avoiding his gaze. I was still embarrassed about what happened earlier, and I really hoped it wouldn’t come up. 

Instead, he brought up something else. “I never got your name,” he said, moving his hand on top of mine. My stomach flipped over, how was his touch so intoxicating? I barely knew him. 

I swallowed the butterflies, and replied confidently, “My name is y/n. And I must admit, I have heard so much about you, but I’m not even sure as to what your name might be. It is Boromir, am I correct?”

“Yes, that would be me. Y/n, such a beautiful name.” He spoke thoughtfully, and my breath caught in my throat. We talked a bit more, but I slowed the conversation down. 

I withdrew my hand from his and went back to cleaning mugs. I couldn’t get involved with him, he was basically a prince after all. An emotion I couldn’t quite interpret flashed through his face, but he quickly stood up, understanding I wanted to be alone.

“Well, my lady y/n, I do hope we meet again.” He nodded his head and walked away. 

As soon as he turned a corner, I slumped down behind the counter. I knew that I could not be with him. I was just a woman of Rohan, nothing else. But there were so few men like him. Far too many would look down upon me, and there were only a few that would be respectful. But he was something completely different. It was such a short conversation, but I already regretted sending him away. At this point, there was nothing left I could do.

---------------------------------------Time Skip-------------------------------------

Death. Destruction. The ruins of Gondor loomed over me. Eowyn is missing. So many dead. I whirled around, trying my best to defend myself. Exhaustion wore me down. An orc hit me from behind, sinking its blade into my arm. I cried out, and with the last strength I had, I sliced its throat. I clutched my arm, trying to stop the blood from running down to my hands. I collapsed, curling up. As the world became dark, I could have sworn I heard someone yelling my name.

My head was ringing as I slowly opened my eyes, adjusting them to the light. I moved sluggishly, still trying to figure out what happened. I felt a cloth around my arm, binding it, and my face felt clean. Free of the blood and dirt that had been caked on it. But where was I? I sat up, breathing in the cool air. It looked like a healing ward, and someone else was here.

“Excuse me? Miss?” I called out to the other woman. She walked over briskly and set some pillows behind my back.

She flittered about, changing my dressings, all the while talking. “Oh I’m so sorry dear, I didn’t see that you were awake yet. I was told to give you the best treatment and to get you your own room, so here we are. I wasn’t sure when you were going to wake up, oh dear me. You should probably lay down for longer, you still have circles under your eyes. My you had a bunch of blood on you. I was so surprised to see such a young lady like yourself in such a horrid place. Bad luck I say, bad luck. Although I am so old, I have seen so much, but not something like this!” She babbled on, much to my amusement. She was a mother hen, pecking and poking into other’s business. But she was sweet. 

I interrupted her on another spiel, trying to get a straight answer. “I’m sorry, but who gave you these orders, to take care of me and such? I don’t mean to pry, I just want to know. Also, do you know how long this will take? I need to find some people.”

She smiled. “Oh dear, you have a lot in store for you. You’re fine to go walk around and find some people. However, I do suggest you take the path to the gardens, it is quite beautiful.” She winked, and exited the room, leaving the door open. I was slightly stunned, this was a lot to take in. I could not tell what she was hinting at though.

I pulled on some shoes and slowly began my way down. It was a clear path to where I was supposed to go, but I hesitated. What was with all this secrecy? I felt a knot in my stomach as I continued, wary of my surroundings. I knew there were no orcs, but something seemed off.

I turned a corner and heard a voice I did not expect. “I see your injuries have begun healing. I am glad to see it.” Boromir spoke softly, his gaze moving over me.

“Boromir?” I whispered, shocked to see him. “Wh-what is this? What’s going on?” He motioned me to sit next to him on the bench, and I did, a healthy distance away from him.

“I found you. On the field. I didn’t believe it was you at first, I thought my eyes were deceiving me, trying to give me what I wanted most. But it truly was you, and you were lying there, still, bleeding. I assumed the worst. I know we don’t know each other that well, so it must seem odd for me to care so much. But dear, you mean so much to me. More than you know. I’m not mad like the others for you being out there. I admire your bravery and the skills it must’ve taken to slay all the orcs around you. I wasn’t there, but based on the number of bodies around you, I would assume that would be your work. Well, I’m going on and on here, but what I’m really trying to say is, stay. Stay here, with me.” Boromir took a breath, his cheeks full of color. 

At this point, my stomach was exploding, I could feel that I was shaking a little. Sure, it wasn’t some love confession, but I didn’t need that from him. The fact that he wanted me to stay was enough. 

“I think I will stay, as long as we can visit Rohan often,” I said nervously. His cheeks grew even darker, and he held my hand and pressed the lightest kiss to it. I giggled, and he drew me into a warm hug. I nestled into his chest, hearing his heartbeat. Now, this is what I was missing out on this entire time.

“Wait,” I said, remembering what had happened at Helm’s Deep, what I hadn’t told anyone. “There is something you should know.”

Boromir cocked an eyebrow, obviously confused. “What do you mean?” He asked.

I looked down. “I, uh, might not have been in the caves with everyone else. In fact, do you remember the soldier that you saved from the spear? That might have been me. Possibly.” I smiled, and his face brightened.

“Oh yes, I know exactly who you’re talking abo- wait a minute. That was you? My lady, you are a brilliant warrior. The spear was a minor setback, you did amazing that night.” He gushed, and I grinned at how sweet he was being.

“Boromir, this does not bother you? That I was out fighting? That I, a woman, was part of a battle?” I questioned. 

He started laughing, his smile lighting up his eyes. He really was handsome. “No dear, not at all. In fact, it makes things even better. You are an amazing fighter and an amazing person. No, it doesn’t bother me one bit.”

The sun moved through the clouds, the rays hitting us perfectly. We sat and joked in the warmth all afternoon, forgetting the looming war for just a little bit.

Everything taglist: @hey-its-nonny