#and everyone else is really confused and concerned

[jakeroo123]

Thank you to everyone who voted! This kind of... blew up way more than I expected it to. As promised, here are the answers and the episodes in which everything occurred.

Firstly, I'm going to reveal the status of the winning option, which was "Pikachu devolves into Pichu and becomes a literal Pocket Monster.": It is real, that actually happens, and I will give more context below.

Second, the trick behind the quiz is that all of the weirdness is real. Everything strange or impossible actually happened. For the actual answer, I simply changed the context around said weirdness. In this case, I swapped out one running gag for a very similar one.

Which means the correct answer is...

Brock falls in love with an old lady who uses ninja magic to look young.

While the old lady who uses ninja magic to look young is indeed real, first appearing in XY099, The Legend of the Ninja Hero!, Brock hadn't been part of the main cast and had not physically appeared alongside Ash for two hundred and forty episodes by then. Instead, it was Bonnie who did her whole "you're a keeper" thing.

Thoughts:

A few people did figure out that Brock not being in XY was the key to the whole thing. I was really surprised at how many people voted for Pichu the literal Pocket Monster, though, I thought that one was better known. It does break the established rules, yes, but there was an exception that allowed for it to happen! I will explain it in the context section.

Team Rocket winning was another popular choice. That option was included because it was just too funny not to include, I expected most people knew that one was real. Kudos to anyone who voted it solely because it was funny!

Out of all of them, the option that lasted the longest with zero votes was Ash getting turned into a Pikachu, which managed to last the entire first day with no one voting it. I expected people to know this one was real, but it's a shoo-in as far as lists of weird stuff in this show is concerned.

The Misty vampire hunting gear was a last-minute addition. I originally had something else there, about Ash entering the dreams of an unhatched egg and seeing its memories with no explanation, but I deleted it once I confirmed that I misremembered it. The egg had already hatched by the time that happened. I mean, there was a completely separate instance where an unhatched egg talked to him, so maybe that was where my confusion came from.

I mentioned in a reblog there was one I slightly misremembered and so stretched definitions a little, that one was "Ash, Pikachu, and Team Rocket help some aliens fix their crashed spaceship.". While you could describe Team Rocket as "helping", it wasn't quite willingly, and so I wouldn't have worded it the way I did had I remembered that detail.

Screenshots, episode numbers, and context below the cut!

Pikachu devolves into Pichu and becomes a literal Pocket Monster.

JN090, Showdown at the Gates of Warp!

Dialga's powers caused time to reverse, which in turn caused Pikachu to devolve back into Pichu. Ash puts him in his pocket to carry him, making him a literal "Pocket Monster". Interesting note, Ash never actually refers to him as "Pichu" during this time.

On his way to school, Ash somehow ends up in a parallel universe instead.

SM100, Battling the Beast Within!

Weirdly enough, this didn't actually happen because of an Ultra Wormhole, Ash just met Tapu Koko on the way to school, challenged it to a battle, and then Tapu Koko opened a rift with the help from the parallel universe's Tapu Koko. This was actually the first half of a two-parter, Ash only makes it home at the end of the next episode and it turns out that no time has passed.

Pikachu, Meowth, Piplup, and Croagunk pilot a spaceship for evil Togepi.

DP142, Where No Togepi Has Gone Before!

... Just watch the episode.

Pikachu nearly catches Meowth as his first Pokémon.

XY079, A Frenzied Factory Fiasco!

Meowth got a hold of Pikachu's Poké Ball while in a Poké Ball factory, and keeps trying to return him to it. At one point, Pikachu hits an empty Luxury Ball at Meowth with his tail to stop this. Meowth is very annoyed at how Pikachu nearly caught him once he breaks out of the ball. Pikachu even says "Pi-Pikachu!" (roughly "Gotta Catch 'Em All!"), the same thing he says when Ash catches a Pokémon.

May and Meowth bring a man back from the dead with a time-traveling locket.

AG157, Time Warp Heals All Wounds

The locket sent them back in time, and they change the past so that the locket's owner's husband doesn't die in an accident by preventing him from boarding a train. No, I do not know why the locket can do that. No Pokémon did this, it just happened. And then May's Eevee hatched at the end of the episode.

Ash gets turned into a Pikachu by a witch's magic potion.

EP241, Hocus Pokémon

It was actually supposed to be a spell that let him read the minds of Pokémon temporarily, but it went wrong and he turned into a Pikachu instead. Ash freaks out until he learns that it's temporary, at which point he decides to just have fun and play. It wore off at the start of the next episode.

Misty brings vampire hunting gear to a ghost fight.

EP020, The Ghost of Maiden's Peak

I don't really know why she did this either. Everyone else, including the talking Gastly that she brought the gear to fight against, was also very confused about this.

Ash and Goh have a rap battle that results in a golden pot of noodle curry.

JN097, An Evolution in Taste!

In hindsight, my description makes this episode sound much more normal than it actually is. I should have, instead of mentioning the rap battle, mentioned the fact that the noodles and curry start out separate and do a fusion dance with glowing and morphing and everything to become a giant golden pot of noodle curry.

Ash and Pikachu die and comes back to life by possessing their own corpses.

EP023, The Tower of Terror

I'm not sure they actually died, it was really unclear, but that's how I mostly see people describe this. Their spirits were definitely separated from their bodies for a good while after they got crushed by a chandelier.

Ash, Pikachu, and Team Rocket help some aliens fix their crashed spaceship.

BW133, Capacia Island UFO!

The Beheeyem are actual aliens, and, well, they crash landed. They hypnotized everyone on the island to help look for the missing part of their UFO, though due to being idiots Jessie, James, and Ash were immune to the hypnosis (Pikachu wasn't but Ash snapped him out of it). Ash agrees to help, and... well, Team Rocket didn't agree, exactly, but they were the ones who found the missing power source.

Ash actually loses a Pokémon battle to Team Rocket.

SM012, The Sun, the Scare, the Secret Lair!

After catching Mimikyu and Mareanie, respectively, Jessie and James actually manage to beat Ash's entire current team for the first time ever. And then Bewear jumps out of the water and takes them home before they're actually able to do anything with the victory.

Which of these didn't happen in Pokémon the Series?

So, this is an idea I had based on seeing someone do one for a different show a while back. Out of all of the options in this poll, eleven are real things that have happened over the course of Pokémon the Series during Ash and Pikachu's stints as protagonists. One of these is fake, and I want to see how many people can figure out which one! Or who are big enough nerds to have watched everything and know which one isn't real.

[tinylilacbun]

I feel like it would be so funny qhen the pogues find out jj already got a new job, and then find out is a job babysitting for kooks. I feel like everyone in the room would be speechless at first and pope would be like "babysit to what, a dog?" "no?? she's three. very cute by the way-and wait, is that even a thing?" "oh, poor kid🤦🏿‍♂️" and altought they all suport each other, they're all kiiind of insecure reguarding jj's new "awesome" plan, because, well, they don't think jj is actually the most patient and responsible to be around kids. I mean, how did he even got this job? How could someone look at jj and think "wow, he's so good with babies"

but then they would all change their minds on the first time jj brings reader to hang out with them, and they witness JJ turn into a role different version of himself - helping reader do basic things like braiding her hair or eat her veggies, and even nap with her laying on his chest in the couch while the pogues are all staring in... awe and confusion? lmao I would be too

Wait, can I request something with this concept?

I can so imagine them being like "Nah, you gotta be joking." And then JJ pulls out his phone showing all the silly photos he has of you both together, being all smug about it too and the pogues are completely baffled looking at him like: 😦

They're asking him various questions, like how's the pay? How the hell he managed to get a babysitter job, knowing this boy can't even take care of himself for all we know. How kooks trust JJ freaking maybank with their kid??

The pogues are concerned that their friend is being threatened to say that your parents are actually really nice and pay him well, so well that he doesn't want to bring it up.

Obviously they want proof of that and see it for themselves, so JJ asks your parents if he could take his friends with him next time he babysits before anything else and of course your parents said yes, why wouldn't they? They trust him.

And so the pogues finally meet the reason JJ has been rather busy lately as you come running from your room the second you hear his voice, crashing into his awaiting arms.

"Jayj! Missed you so much." You giggle as JJ stands up with you clinging to him, your legs dangling in the air.

"I was here two days ago." He reminds you with a chuckle and you pout.

"Still missed you!"

Then you notice his friends standing behind him, a smile growing on each of their faces. JJ sets you back down and you go to hide behind his legs, suddenly shy from all the new people as you whisper out a small 'hi'.

Kie and Sarah coo at how adorable you are, just wanting to pinch your cheeks. John B, Pope, and Cleo just give you a small wave, which you of course return.

"You gotta give her some time to warm up, and don't touch her until she says it's okay." JJ warns them, his hand ruffling your hair.

Some time later the others are actually impressed by how attentive JJ is with you, always answering when you ask something no matter how silly it is, playing with you what you want, even getting you to eat the nasty veggies.

Now you all are sprawled on the big sofa in the living room, your favorite movie playing on the tv but you're already napping on JJ's chest as he draws shapes on your back.

"I have to be honest, I really thought you were kidding us with this whole thing but damn JJ you really know what you're doing." John says, watching how gentle the blonde is with you, he's never seen his best friend being this soft with anyone, much less a kook.

JJ shushes him, pressing a finger to his lips. "Princess is getting her beauty sleep, don't you dare disrupt that, bro."

Taglist

For everything:

@my-river-lilly @pauntedblacknails @fanfictioniseverything @buckymydarlingangel @hallecarey1 @daybreakwinter @loveshineslikethesky @vase-of-lilies @white-wolf1940 @simpingbutch @mischiefsemimanaged @alina02 @teddybearsgrr @doozywoozy @angelbabydoll28 @glxwingrxse @lilymurphy03 @veryvaughnny @lokigirlszendaya @youngstarfishdinosaur @little--baby--bear @minideathgoddess @rach2602 @gh0stgurl @flourishandblotts-inc @lovelyy-moonlight @yoruse

@mythixmagic @iris-xoxo-juhu @mylettterstoyou @sunf1ower16 @sweetstars-posts @rafecameronsloverrrrr

For JJ:

@chiaraanatra @chimindity @flora-eva

[trashywormeateroffics]

waited my whole life (steve rogers x reader)

the gif is not mine!

no summary it’s just a little thing, fluffy and reader struggling to be open with their emotions yay:)

a/n: well, long time no see….. i hope u enjoy!

masterlist

\\\\

“they really appreciate you, you know?” he says, still facing forward. he’s being going at this for months. trying to convince you that the team sees you as part of their family. the woods seem endless, stretched out by your tiredness from the mission and aching limbs still wrapped in a tact suit, and yet, though you cannot admit it to yourself, a whisper of a wish echoes through your mind. a wish for it to continue, on and on, perhaps on a loop. a wish for his company.

“i do too.”

he looks at you.

“you might be worse than me at taking a compliment.” you raise your eyebrows and huff out a laugh.

“one would think you out of everyone would know how to take praise.” you purse your lips, trying to hide an amused smile. “i mean, since you get it all the time.”

“right.” he scoffs, though his eyes twinkle with beguilement.

“i mean, the great captain america. everything that is wonderful and magical about this country.”

“that’s how you think of me?”

“i said captain america, not steve rogers.” he tilts his head.

“are they not the same?” you shrug your shoulders.

“what do you think?”

“once in a while you could answer a question without deflecting. won’t kill you.”

“it might.” your smile is mischievous. he shakes his head with fake exasperation. he never seems truly upset at you, never acts like having you around is an effort (even though you are pretty certain that it is), so, maybe, you could return the favor and be earnest for once.

you roll your eyes and huff. you’re not annoyed at him. you’re not annoyed at how he makes you feel. you’re just annoyed that it’s so hard to say, to show.

“you alright?” the space between his brows creases with soft concern. you open your mouth, ready to tell him that yes, you are fine. just tired from walking. you feel the deflection making its way up your throat, tensing your vocal chords, but he tilts his head and your mouth closes shut.

“you are steve.” he frowns, confused, and probably worried that you are experiencing a case of sudden amnesia, but before he can ask and deviate you from your mission, you continue. “there would be no captain america without steve rogers, but there would be a steve rogers without captain america.”

his eyes soften, and for a split millisecond you wonder if something just crossed his mind, or if he saw something behind you, because there is no way he could be looking at you like that. but then he says your name, it comes out breathy, almost with wonder, and so warm. you’ve never heard your name said like that. like a prayer, a prize, a solution. something good.

“don’t get all soft on me now, you’re still wearing the suit.”

he laughs an incredulous laugh. the corners of his eyes crinkle with mirth. it’s blinding, it’s light, it’s him.

“i’m always soft on you.” he says after he sobers up, though he is still smiling softly. “just waiting for you to realize it, sweetheart.”

that pet name. god. you might love it even more than when he says your name. he never calls anyone else by anything other than their name, or perhaps a common nickname. but never that. that is only for you. nat says it’s because you are the sweet part of his heart. you think his entire heart is sweet. you don’t understand how you could have a place there; he seems to know that, and that is why he reminds you over and over again in a million different ways that while you might not believe yourself deserving of it, that does not change the fact that to him you are rooted there. you want to be. there is nowhere else you’d like to rest.

you want to tell him everything. that he not only has put down roots in your heart, but that he has merged with the veins and the vessels that pump blood to it. that without him there wouldn’t be an empty space in your heart, there would simply be no heart. you want to be the person who loves loudly, he deserves that, but some wounds are still too deep, too fresh, and they seem to clog your lungs. the declaration gets stuck somewhere in between there and your throat (and your brain). it makes you panic, the fear that he cannot read your mind, your eyes, that he does not and will never know what he means to you, and that, at some point, he will leave to find someone who can and will tell him all of it. reassure him.

“steve…” it’s pleading. you’re sure you look like a scared animal, wild eyes and frantic breathing. without pausing his walk, he side steps a bit, getting closer to you. in a second your hand is enwrapped in his. he squeezes one, two, three times. then he caresses it with his thumb. your steps falter a bit, but you gather yourself quickly. it would’ve been unnoticeable to anyone, but not to him. you never go unnoticed by him.

he leans a bit, his mouth close to your ear and whispers, almost as a secret, as if not even the trees around you should be privy of it. only you.

“i’ll wait. whenever you’re ready. you’re worth all of it.” you shut your eyes tightly, trying to stop the onslaught of tears that are forming too quickly, trusting he will not let you fall as your feet keep moving forward. you hear him chuckle softly, barely, almost just to himself. you look at him. he’s already looking at you. he gives you a lopsided smile that makes you feel like he knows something you don’t, that maybe no one else does, before speaking again. “waited my whole life for ya, what’s a bit more time?”

and for the first time in your life, you believe someone. you believe him.

[mischievouslittlecreature]

@brummiereader Thank you so much, Brummie! I'm so excited to see you've started this one! 🖤

Far as Tommy is concerned, this is exactly like a business deal 🤭. Poor man may be alone in that feeling though 😬. You're right that he very genuinely does not want to tie himself to Lizzie in this way. Both for Lucy's sake and because he just doesn't want to marry Lizzie. He doesn't love her and he knows that isn't gonna change.

YES. Lucy's trying so hard to be the strong, reasonable one. She can have a little bit of an unintentional martyr complex in that she's completely willing to sacrifice her happiness for everyone else. And then gets confused when other people try to tell her that her happiness matters too 😔.

Poor Tommy really is trying to do everything he can to no give false hope to Lizzie. I think that's his greatest fear about this whole thing is that she'll assume he'll fall in love and change his mind and punt Lucy to the curb.

It makes me so happy that you immediately regret Lucy's feelings that Tommy and Lizzie could have had a chance if she weren't around. That's exactly how I feel too. The show is literal proof that even if she didn't exist at all, they still wouldn't have worked out.

He really does. It's killing him that he's not marrying her 😭. Ahhhh no comment on the wedding night and honeymoon! 🫣

No rush on getting to the next chapter! I know I've been posting these pretty fast!

Thank you so so much for your wonderful comments, Brummie! I am so glad that you liked this first chapter! 🖤🖤🖤

Part 22: This Misery We've Made

Fandom: Peaky Blinders

Pairing: Tommy Shelby x OC

Summary: Approval numbers and public perception of Tommy's personal life force him and Lucy to face some painful realities.

Word Count: 3,519

Notes: Not really sure if I'm entirely happy with this chapter, but I've been fiddling with it for so long and I just need to move on. Hope you all still like it! Warnings for depictions of insecurity and references to past abuse and polyamory.

Previous Part • Series • Fic • Next Chapter

Chapter 1: Too Late

“No.”

Lucy sighed, looking pleadingly into Tommy’s glacial eyes as they hardened over with stubbornness. 

“Tommy, love, we both know it would fix all of these problems…”

“As we’ve already discussed to exhaustion.” His jaw ticked. “I won’t do it.”

“Sweetheart,” she broke eye contact with him to look down at the papers settled in her lap. Her hands fiddled with her rings, gaze glued  to the infernal numbers emblazoned upon the reports, as if staring at them hard enough would cause them to shift and change. “It’s not getting any better. If anything, it’s only going to get worse.”

“The constituents don’t seem to care,” he huffed, reaching into his pocket for his cigarette case. “Considering that they elected me.”

She frowned. “Because we bribed your way in. And besides, I’m not sure if a lot of them even knew then. You weren’t exactly shouting your marital status and Ruby’s parentage from the rooftops.” Not that he’d hid it, per say. He just avoided discussing it during the campaign and while in settings related to his work. “And they might not care now, but what about when your political rivals start harping about it in the press? They’re already using it to try to shut you out of certain things. Not to mention that arsehole from Oxford who keeps using it to try to cut down all your arguments in the house.”

“Fucking ridiculous,” Tommy shook his head, lighting his cigarette and releasing a puff of smoke from his lips up towards the ceiling.

They were seated in his office in the House of Commons, the big wooden double doors that led out into the workroom that she shared with the other secretary, Adam, closed. Not that they needed to be. Adam had already gone home for the evening, as had most of the other MPs and their staff. No one would be interrupting them. It was late, nothing but darkness and a flickering streetlight visible out the window. 

She was still getting used to spending her days working in the offices of the House of Commons rather than the betting shop or the office in Birmingham. While the general decor and design of the building was not all that dissimilar–outside of just being bigger–there was something distinctively different about this place. A stuffiness and sense of propriety that served as a thin veil for the egos and superiority that radiated from so many of the men who sauntered through its halls. It was a bit of a shock to go from Small Heath, where just about everyone knew her name and she was decidedly near the top of the food chain as far as both authority and respect goes, to here where she was lucky if the MP just next door could even remember her name. In these offices, she was not the Red Demon, or even Lucy Winters. Here she was just Thomas Shelby’s Assistant. And was treated as such. 

It wasn’t all bad, of course. She still got to spend most of her days at Tommy’s side, and the work was not that different from what she’d been doing for him before. 

“I agree, but that’s the way that things are, love.” She shifted uncomfortably in her seat. “And your constituents do care. That’s what these numbers are all about,” she nodded to the report in her lap. “More and more of them indicated that while they’re happy with your performance and policies, they’re troubled by your conduct regarding your personal life.” She held out the papers, and he took them with a reluctant sigh, pulling his glasses from his pocket and sliding them onto his nose so he could look them over himself. 

“Doing…doing this,” Lucy swallowed, unable to bring herself to utter the thing that, ever since Ruby’s birth–and certainly ever since he was elected–hovered threateningly over them. The guillotine teetering precariously above their heads. “It would help improve your standing with the more traditional and family focused members of your constituents. And might even open up some more doors for you here with the conservative MPs. God knows we already have a hard enough time working with them.” Bunch of racist, classist dickheads was what they were. All too eager to look down their nose at the man who had clawed his way from the bowels of Small Heath’s dirty streets to the halls of power. They already had enough reasons to attempt to shut Tommy out, they really didn’t need to be giving them anymore ammunition. 

Tommy met her eyes, and she saw a crack appear in his resolve. Deep down, they both knew that she was right. This needed to be done. 

Even if it was going to break both their hearts. 

Tommy closed his eyes, head tilting up as he released another stream of smoke from his lips. His brow pinched with stress, the skin around his temples tightening. 

She forced herself to be strong. “You know just as well as I do how important image is to the people we’re now surrounded by. And to the people you’ve been elected to serve. We can’t just…shrug off what other people think of our personal lives anymore. Presenting the image of a proper family will solve nearly all the current problems outlined in those numbers.” 

His lips pursed. He was not seated behind his desk, but rather in the chair next to hers in front of it, one leg crossed over the other. One of his hands lifted to touch the side of his face, thumb moving across his lips while he examined her shrewdly and listened to her argument.

“We can’t ignore this forever. It has the potential to ruin everything you’ve worked so hard for.” She looked him hard in the eye, beseeching him to understand. He still just stared at her, clearly fighting against the knowledge that he knew she was right. “There’s only one clear solution that I can see that fixes pretty much all problems at once.”

How many times had they discussed this? Too many to count. And he always shot the idea down instantaneously. When Polly tried to push it harder on one of their more recent meetings, he’d nearly ripped her head off. 

“Look, you know what my suggestion for a solution is. If you have any others, I’m happy to hear them.” She was suddenly in dire need of a cigarette. Sensing her need, Tommy silently held out the one clutched between his fingers towards her. She took it with a noticeably unsteady hand, bringing it gratefully to her lips. Tommy watched all of her movements closely, knuckles pressed up against his lips, frown still firmly in place. Picking up the report of his approval numbers, his eyes skimmed over the front page once more before tossing it onto his desk, removing his glasses and putting them back in his pocket.

The silence while he mulled over her words seemed to stretch on forever, only interrupted by the rhythmic ticking of the clock on the mantle. Lucy had to fight back the desire to fill it with more near nonsensical babbling. 

Why was she even arguing for this so bloody hard? She should be happy that he’d instantly dismissed the suggestion the very first time that she brought it up. Hell, she was, from a purely selfish standpoint.

Tommy’s hand dropped from where it was resting against his lips to take one of hers, thumb running along her knuckles. 

“I don’t want to marry Lizzie,” he said softly.

She met his gaze sadly. “I know.” I don’t want you to marry her either. But she knew if she told him that, she would never manage to convince him to go through with it. He’d refuse forever all on account of her feelings, even if it meant that he could lose everything he’d worked so hard for.  

The idea that he could lose it all and it would be her fault made her feel sick with guilt.

���But we’re being backed into a corner here, love,” she chose her words carefully. “Being unmarried with an illegitimate child makes some of your constituents think that you don’t value families. If you want to stop your approval numbers from dipping, and even have a shot at reelection in a few years…”

“I haven’t even thought about reelection, yet.”

She gave him a look that was both stern and fond in equal measure. “Now, we both know that isn’t true.”

His lips quirked upwards slightly, eyes warming at how well she knew him. But when he scooted closer to her, sadness quickly leaked back into his expression, lips turning downwards.

“I don’t love her.”

“I know,” she repeated, feeling even worse at the spark of relief that statement brought her. Poor Lizzie. 

He shot her a look of deep, unending regret, brushing some hair out of her face. Her eyes fluttered at the warm press of his palm against her cheek when he cupped it. “I promised you that I wouldn’t marry her,” he whispered. 

“You said that you didn’t plan to,” she corrected, recalling the conversation when he first informed her of Lizzie’s pregnancy. The things he’d murmured to her whilst holding her on the floor of their bedroom while she cried. “Plans can change.”

“I am not leaving you,” there was zero room for argument in his voice, jaw shifting stubbornly. 

“Lizzie might not agree to marry you if you don’t.”

Tommy shook his head. “It’ll be a marriage of convenience only. You and me still being able to be together is non-negotiable. I’m not budging on that.”

She smiled a little in spite of herself at his devotion, leaning her face deeper into his palm. “It feels terribly unfair to her.”

“She can always say no if she really can’t handle it. We’ll be clear about what it’ll all entail, so she doesn’t get the wrong idea about any of it meaning something between me and her. Besides, she’s been warmer towards you lately.”

That was true. Though who knew how long that would actually last.

Scooting his chair closer to hers, Tommy leaned forward, holding her face with both hands, forehead resting against hers. 

“Are you sure you’re okay with it?” he asked urgently. Lucy swallowed hard. The thought of watching him stand up at an altar and make vows and promises to another woman, of having to live under the same roof as Lizzie and share him with her for the rest of their lives…

It burned harshly in her chest, cracks forming in her already fragile heart. 

But she could live with it. It was a sacrifice she was willing to make if it meant that Tommy would not lose all he’d worked so extremely hard to achieve. 

Maybe…maybe it actually wouldn’t be all that bad. He was right that Lizzie had been kinder and more amicable towards her as of late. Perhaps she would even be agreeable to all three of them sharing a bed from time to time, like they used to. And it would be nice to have Ruby in the same house as them so they could see her more. She and Charlie could be raised as proper siblings. 

“Yes,” she said, unknowingly sealing both their fates. “So long as we don’t have to break up.”

“I won’t ever let that happen,” Tommy promised. She leaned in closer to him, hands resting on his forearms. Tommy gave her a little tug. “Come here,” drawing her from her chair, he pulled her into his lap, wrapping his arms around her and burying his face in her hair. “I love you.”

“I love you too,” she murmured into his chest, arms winding around his neck. “I hate to say ‘I told you so,’ but…”

He snorted, lightly pinching her hip. “Yeah, yeah.” Lips ghosting across her temple, he silently urged her face back enough so that he could kiss her softly. “I mean it. I won’t let us be torn apart.”

A small smile pulled at her lips, his reassurance like a band-aid over her fracturing heart while he kissed her again. 

∗ ∗ ∗

“Well,” Lizzie said, adjusting her fingers around her cigarette, straightening in her chair. Even sitting down, she looked tall, the way in which she sat with her spine entirely straight only adding to the effect. She looked between Tommy and Lucy seated before her at the other side of the round table in front of the fireplace in Tommy’s Birmingham office. “That’s one hell of a way to propose to someone.”

Lucy winced a little at the underlayer of bitterness in Lizzie’s voice, looking down at her hands in shame.

“Technically you aren’t being proposed to until we know that you agree to our…conditions,” Tommy was much less phased by Lizzie’s reaction, puffing on his cigarette whilst eyeing her from around the vase of deep red roses on the table between them. 

“I’m pretty sure that I know what those are already,” Lizzie huffed, shifting in her seat, briefly glancing at the fire crackling away in the hearth. She looked back at them, and gave a little gesture with the hand holding her cigarette for him to continue. “But let’s hear them anyway.” 

Tommy adjusted himself in his seat, leaning forward with one of his arms resting on the table. When he spoke, his voice had taken on the commanding edge that Lucy had heard him use when giving orders to his men or family members. 

“After we are married, you and Ruby will come to live at Arrow House. You will enjoy all luxuries that the home and the title as my wife offers. All we expect is that you help take care of the children and manage things that have to do with the household. You can continue to hold a position on the company’s board, if you’d like. But most importantly,” he glanced over at Lucy, holding her gaze steadfastly before turning back to Lizzie, “Lucy and I will still get to be together.”

The area around Lizzie’s lips tightened slightly. “So you aren’t offering me a real marriage, but only one of convenience.”

To his credit, Tommy did not flinch away from her stern, accusing gaze. “Yes; that’s exactly what I’m offering you.” 

Lizzie leaned back into her chair, nursing at her cigarette as she contemplated. Lucy struggled to meet her gaze when it shifted periodically over to her, guilt roiling through her like a tempestuous storm. She’d never been able to shake the feeling that if she were not around, Tommy and Lizzie may have actually stood a chance together. And she was pretty certain that Lizzie thought the same exact thing. 

“I want you to promise that you will be discreet,” Lizzie finally said very slowly. “I will not be publicly humiliated by my husband openly fucking another woman.”

“Of course,” Lucy nodded. They already had toned down most displays of physical affection whilst in public, presenting instead as simply colleagues who happened to be good friends. Gestures of romance were saved for behind closed doors. It was not unlike it was prior to Grace’s death, when the three of them had to practice restraint to avoid a scandal. “And we’re willing to make accommodations to make sure you and Ruby are comfortable.”

“Within reason,” Tommy interjected quickly. 

“I want a honeymoon,” Lizzie said decisively. “A real one. With just you and me.” Her eyes wavered from Tommy to fix on Lucy, then darted back to him. Lucy thought she caught a glimpse of pleading in her face. 

The mere idea of them going on a romantic vacation together without her left insecurity brewing beneath her skin, but Lucy forced herself to ignore it. Considering what they were asking of her, it felt like it was the least that they could do. “Okay.”

Tommy shot her a glance. “We’ll have to talk about it,” he modified. 

Lizzie nodded. “Of course.” The clock on the mantle chimed. “I have to head home. I promised the nanny I’d be back by half past five. I can come by this weekend to work out more of the details if you’d like.”

“Yes, that would be good. You have a ride home?” Tommy asked, both he and Lucy standing after Lizzie stubbed out her cigarette in the ashtray and rose to her feet. 

“Yes, Skudboat offered to drop me off.”

“Right. We’ll see you this weekend, then.”

“Give Ruby a kiss from us,” Lucy requested timidly. Lizzie shot her a smile that actually seemed half genuine. 

“I will.”

They bid her goodbye, Lucy waiting until the door swung shut behind her before sinking exhaustedly back into her chair. She was struck at how transactional the whole exchange had been. Like ironing out a business deal rather than arranging a marriage.  

The floorboards creaked under Tommy’s heavy footsteps as he approached her. Reaching out, he rubbed a hand up and down on her upper arm, bending to kiss her forehead. 

“Are you alright?”

She stuffed the guilt bubbling up within her back down, locking it away in a far corner of her mind. “Yeah.”

“I can get out of the honeymoon if it makes you uncomfortable. Or insist that you come along.”

“It’s fine,” she probably said it too quickly to be convincing. “It’s the least that we can do for her, considering.”

“I don’t like the idea of going without you.”

“Me neither,” she admittedly, finally looking up to meet his concerned blue orbs. “But it’s just one week.” She knew him better than to expect that he’d be willing to take more than that off work. “We’ll live.”

He stroked her face tenderly, brow furrowing slightly. “You don’t have to give her everything that she wants. I know that you feel bad, even though you really shouldn’t, but…” he trailed off, tucking a lock of hair behind her ear, thumb brushing down her cheek. “If she pushes too far, if she’s unkind to you, or asks for something you aren’t comfortable with, all you have to do is tell me, and I’ll take care of it, alright?”

Nodding, she turned her face to kiss the center of his palm. “Thank you,” covering his hand with hers, she smiled weakly. “Congratulations on your engagement.”

“Ugh,” he made a face as though he’d just been told he was sentenced to be executed, rather than engaged to be married, and dropped his head forward until it was resting against her shoulder. Lucy wrapped her arms around him, burrowing her face into his hair, breathing in the scent of his soap and cologne. “I wish it was you,” he mumbled sorrowfully against her throat, and for a dreadful moment Lucy actually thought that she might start to cry. 

“I know.” And though she did not say it–for fear that if she did, he would call the whole damn thing off and throw his reputation and all professional prospects in the bin–they both knew the words circulating within her head:

Me too.  

When he first brought up the topic of marriage, all the way back in 1918, before Grace had even walked into their lives, she had told him that it was not something she was sure that she wanted. She was still living with the trauma of being previously engaged to a monster who hurt and abused her, and the only example of marriage she’d had was the loveless, horrific mess that was her parents. It was something he’d respected, unconcernedly promising that marriage or no marriage, he would still love her forever.

After Grace died, the topic had passed briefly every once in a while across her mind. With times changing and modern perspectives growing in popularity, it was no longer a necessity that she stop working if she were married. And with the slow passage of time, the idea of marriage no longer seemed to her like a cage to be bound and gagged within. She knew that Tommy would never expect her to change simply because he placed a ring on her finger. 

But she didn’t bring it up to him, both of them were still aching too terribly from Grace’s death. It was too soon. For them personally, for Charlie, and for either of their reputations. 

And then the vendetta had happened. And for a bit of fun they took Lizzie down to the canal for a fuck like they so often did before Grace stepped into their lives. 

If only she hadn’t still been so messed up on the topic the first time that he asked. If only she’d expressed her changing feelings on the matter with him before Lizzie got pregnant. Maybe things would be different. 

She could not say anything about it now. If she did, he would abandon this plan that was poised to solve so many problems for him. Not to mention that marrying her instead of Lizzie would create a whole new set of issues for him to deal with, some with the potential to wreck everything he’d accomplished.

It was too late.  

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[moominpopzz]

I wonder if there’s been any times in the PDs friendship where Ashe got really worried she fucked up and, since she probably hasn’t had the ability to keep friends for long at any point since her mom died, she probably assumed the others were gonna leave her and so she started isolating herself again as soon as she thought it to try and not let them be the ones to leave,,,

[mettywiththenotes]

The way Tomura keeps going on about seeing the ghosts is really reminding me of an old post I made about Izuku and Tomura seeing the vestiges, almost like the paranormal - because lets face it, it sort of is - and shenanigans

(I'm not really sure about the rest of the post anymore but I still think about these scenarios lol)

[caffeinatedopossum]

Everyone's acting like nothing happened

[restrainedhungr]

Blinking a few times she seemed completely oblivious to the very concerning actions she had just done. So seeing Lee Sin so- different from how she left him confused her. The scent of uncertainty and fear cut through the air in a very awkward and obvious manner but if it was from the bear she ate or Lee Sin, she wasn't sure. Instead she would looked at him in full confusion, doing her best to try and express her questions without saying a word.

Looking down at the line drawn in the grass she was even more confused than their recent lesson. Until suddenly it clicked! " Ooohh I forgot to warn you about that didn't I? The Hunger can get really angry when I don't eat for a while. I forget people get scared of it but don't worry! " Shaking her shoulders to gesture to the pillory. " Mom made me this special device to help keep it all safe! It's not perfect, but I can control it! It was such a good meal, I haven't eaten that well in a while! The last people I ate were not anywhere that good. "

Snickering to herself as she casually mentions she's eaten people in much the same way she had ripped apart that bear there's no hint of regret or sadness in her voice. Reflecting further on their previous conversation.

" That's okay, I get I can be kind of scary, and annoying like that. There's a reason even I had to break out of the cage they kept me in. I couldn't stand everyone else! All the time with the omnomnom, blaaahhurrgg. " Pretending to mimic herself and others who also entered similar states of hunger she once more dissolved into a fit of giggles finding it hilarious.

The huffing and snarling in response to his call left Lee weary, as he slowly drew one foot forward. Dragging his heel through the grass to create a line. Till there; and no further. If she crossed it, then he would have to retaliate and subdue her... It was a thought he did not enjoy; but he was always prepared to raise arms if he had to.

Further than that, his thoughts never came as he suddenly dropped on the floor, grabbing all the spirits that were still lingering along with him as the pieces of the pillory and the gemstone that kept it in place shot overhead. Surprised, he exhaled; slowly getting back up. Gently comforting the overwhelmed spirits. "There there... it's alright."

It didn't help that when Briar returned, Lee brought up her hand. She might be blind, but her vision was far superior to any that relied on their eyes. The illusion of sight was there. But then she watched in concern as the spirits scattered back into the bamboo forest. "Oh dear... I will have to comfort them at a later time." Muttering, she looked to briar, taking note of the change now that the pillory had returned to constrict her. Even without knowing the intricate details, this much was certain: without it, Briar grew feral. At least that was how Lee'd call it in her head.

"Don't worry. I am not much of a meat enjoyer. I'm mostly glad that you enjoyed your meal." "I wanted to introduce you to the dragonling spirits, but they seemed to have been startled by your sudden change... forgive them; they are anxious spirits."

[fardf150]

fuck

[longer-than-i-should-admit]

Okay so here it is. Had to work through my emotions first so I've found my equilibrium.

I really liked how Neve's narrative turned out as a whole. I didn't expect to get along with her because she seemed kind of cold at first but honestly? She's for the girlies. I love her. So warm once you get to know her. She's such a bestie, comparative to Leliana in DAO imo

The section I was missing was in the Heights of Athim where the well is. Killed the demon, found the chests, got the last of the statues. I didn't expect to get that achievement so I was quite proud of myself.

I didn't 100% everywhere, I'll probably try to do that next run tbh. By that point I just wanted to see what happened, and...oh boy.

I was honestly 100% happy with the game 'til I got to the third act. Now that I've stewed on it I'll confidently say it's only dropped to 90%, but that's only because I'm of the rather rose-tinted persuasion of despising even "necessary" or "worthy" character deaths. I was NOT expecting to have Davrin die (which...Lace is the alternative? my heart!). Him AND Assan, too? After everything? I know that's the whole point of sacrifice, "whatever it takes", but...idk, it just didn't sit right with me. It felt squandered. But I know that's just my opinion.

And, speaking of squandered...Varric. I'd had the gut feeling that there was more to his situation than he was letting on, especially given Solas’ little "[he] is...quite practiced at shading the truth himself", so I was thinking "oh the only reason he survived was that he got tied to the Lighthouse's energy somehow and can't leave" or “he had a reaction to the dagger like Lace did just slightly different” or smth, but the longer the game went on the more details I noticed. Lace's reaction in the start confused me. There were just enough references to him throughout to mollify my suspicions, but then I got the codex about Xenon trying to buy Bianca and Lace almost gutting him for it. Also no one ever looked at him during the table meetings, and in the scenes he spoke to Rook he waited 'til everyone else left. That all was adding up, especially when I realized that Neve had healed completely, yet Varric was still as weak as he was at first with the casts and bandages and getting tired.

So. It didn't really surprise me when I got to the Fade mission and found out the truth, but...it still upset me. I know he's been in BW's sights for a long time but I hoped he would be the one character to make it out unscathed tbh. So I accepted it, thinking that it must be worth something, that once Rook brings it up to Solas it would help to persuade him, but...nothing. The companion banter in Minrathous didn't trigger for me, so other than Rook initially confronting Solas about it I didn't get any sense of lingering remorse from Solas, which I felt was out of character for him, especially given the circumstances. (I saw Lace's dressing down later, which helped me resolve it all in my mind. It doesn't fix the fact that no one really talks about it very much, but it made me feel a little better hearing Solas say he was sorry. Really sorry.) Ultimately I felt that it was a bit cheap overall since even the Inquisitor doesn't really bring it up, so I'll be discarding that in my AU. No thanks, BW. I want my bestest dwarf intact, thank you. Moving on.

Now, the rest of Solas in the third act? *chef's kiss* Did not see him leaving us in the Fade coming at all, especially since I got the "you have earned the respect of the dread wolf " message. In retrospect I should have expected it, but I guess I forgot I was looking at him through Rook’s eyes, whom he doesn’t know, and not as "me" (who I guess I associate with the Inquisitor more atm, ironically), so it makes sense that he still doesn't necessarily trust her and was manipulating her. The blood magic thing got me, too. And what fooled me was how concerned he genuinely seemed before, like after Weisshaupt, especially when he distracted Elgarn'nan on our behalf. So it fits him, and it gave me the good moment of like "fuck you. that was clever, Dread Wolf, you got me. but fuck you."

Fade mission was the closest I got to crying the whole game. Well written, most definitely. Still don't like the character deaths but c'est la vie. Not that big of a deal since I've seen that others appreciate the stakes being so high and there actually having to be that choice. To each their own. (I'll be changing it in my fic eventually regardless lol)

Emmrich's romance got me dude. The little argument before the island genuinely had me so worried, and then them making up once she escaped the Fade? *chef's kiss* The coffin slew me on sight though lol, it was so funny to me. He's so sweet I love him so much I swear. Definitely already a favorite and I haven't even experienced the others yet lol (Lucanis will be next, for whom I am so excited)

Minrathous was crazy. I believed Solas that time, too, so caught up in his sad little puppy dog eyes. I even noticed the "by my hand" comment and thought about it and then just dismissed it like "whatever you say king I am at your disposal". Woof. Getting to fight with him again, especially at full power, was so...well, empowering. Like I said, I didn't get the banter (since I had Lace and Emmrich with me), so it felt a little empty. I'll make sure to wait for it next time. (AND I SO CALLED IT THAT HE AND EMMRICH WOULD GET ALONG. WHERE ARE THE FICS OF THEM GETTING TO INTERACT, HUH? W H E R E)

I'm so glad Bellara turned out okay, I didn't think I could handle losing her, too. And Enaste in the middle of it all? Poor baby. I wanted to hug her so bad. Morrigan calling her out was funny though ngl

I got the rune of Felassan from the Caretaker, but I had really hoped that the spirit would have some sort of greater impact on the narrative, like appealing to Solas on our behalf for our help in the Crossroads/for the spirits, or with the rune actually summoning some spirits to help fight Elgar'nan like it sounded when the caretaker described it. A little thing, perhaps, but I thought for sure the Caretaker would have a greater narrative impact than that.

And boy. Oh boy. Getting to see the Dread Wolf was something. Big boy. Big pupper. That was so badass.

By the time I fought Elgar’nan I had mostly gotten the hang of the combat so it wasn’t too bad. I really like him and Ghil as villains overall. Just the right balance of real tangible threat and silly evils.

Oh and Solas clinging to his duty right until the end? I was so scared I wouldn’t be able to convince him when I first saw the trick or fight options, but then I realized I got the good ending from Mythal’s essence and I was so relieved. And boy? Let me tell you.

That entire scene had me almost in tears. It was so good. The angles and the lighting and the voice acting and the interactions and...everything. It was everything I wanted. So heartfelt and brought such good closure. And Lavellan getting to be with him in the end is actual perfection.

So, overall, I'd say I am mostly satisfied with the game personally. It was a product of a decade of ups and downs and while it is by no means perfect, I am so grateful to have had the chance to find "canon" closure and experience this game (mostly) spoiler free the first time. To me the world building we were afforded feels more like cherries put on top of the cake that was already there rather than baking something new, although there are of course some completely understandable nitpicks I have seen other people make. However, for what it is, and where it leaves us, I am content. Even if they don't make another game, I'm glad we got this one.

Anywho...I have already started my second playthrough with my Mournwatcher rook and have already started tweaking my AU/fics to accommodate the new information we got. :)

Thirteen (point six) hours in now that it’s finally downloaded…I tired…I’ve been up since seven am lol, it’s so much better than I expected!🥰

I’ll post better images once I figure out where in the hell my screenshot folder is but my baby Fenalan turned out so so gorgeous oml🥹

Spoilers mentioned under the cut:

I’m so glad Varric is okay. He gave Fenalan a little pep talk when she cracked under the pressure a bit so she’s doing her best to hold it together for the team. She left the mayor bc he’s a shithead and she’s generally been rather purple-coded, as I thought.

She has also given Solas a hard time at first, as planned. I wasn’t expecting him to clap back like he did in that second scene lol, but now that Varric has given her more insight into Solas’ personality she’ll be more cooperative going forward (while still being a lil shit of course).

God I know I’m waiting to romance Lucanis for Khalida but I understand why people are so I love with him. He went grocery shopping for them🥹and the delight in his voice when Fenalan got him the wyvern tooth dagger? Oh my lanta, my heart. And the fact that he noted her favorite drink being tea? That slew me on the spot. By god I am going to smooch you so hard next time. Get ready for it. (Rn he and Neve are flirting up a storm and it’s so damn cute I want to die.)

Honestly all the companion missions so far have been so sincere and sweet. I can’t wait to see more! I’m starting to get all the little side missions branching out so I’m trying not to get overwhelmed with them all by taking them one at a time. I think I’ll tackle more of arlathan forest first thing tomorrow.

I unlocked the memory where Solas fights Elgar’nan, so is the elf who was with him Felassan? I’m assuming it’s Felassan. And if that’s Felassan I am going to cry bc he seems so nice and outgoing.

Also who summoned the fish in the Lighthouse? (I think it was Felassan lol, he seems like an agent of chaos. The “you summoned them, you’ll have to feed them” line took me out.)

I’m mentally cataloguing all the little differences I’ll be making with Khalida, who is more of the soft-spoken, shy, diplomatic type. Her favorite drink will be the “something sweeter” option, she’ll have supported Varric’s plan, and she’ll be more open to Solas’ input off the bat once she gets over her initial fright of him. She’s such a sweet little thing and Lucanis is going to be an utter disaster with her since she’s a bit oblivious lol

God idk if I’m going to be able to sleep after all this but hey, here’s to trying lol

On nydha, lethal’len!🥰

[chelseeebe]

just a taste

18+. mdni. smut. kinda perv!eddie x fem!reader. he is a lil freaky in this i'll admit.

a/n: i just love the idea of the citrus six all living together lol idk i think it’s so nice also i have never watched cheers i just googled 1991 american tv shows and picked one at random LMAO ++ for the movie, i thought it’d be a nice lil easter egg for them to watch something with winona in:,)

✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ:

eddie doesn’t know who you are or why you’re coming to visit or why exactly it was him that was being made to vacate his room for the two weeks that you were here. 

“c’mon eddie,” robin pleads, nay, demands, “you sleep on the couch most nights anyway, what’s the difference?” 

“uh, maybe because it’s my room? i don’t want some random girl in there touching my stuff,” almost flabbergasted that she’s even asking. 

“she’s not a random girl,” robin frowns, “she’s my friend and she needs somewhere to stay.” 

“tell her there’s a great hotel in town,” rolling his eyes, trying to leave the conversation before she breaks out the puppy dog eyes. "i'll even give her a ride if you ask nicely," no longer interested in entertaining this conversation.

“i’ll give you fifty bucks,” robin deadpans, using her last resort.

this was bribery of the highest order but eddie's not stupid. fifty bucks is fifty bucks.

“now?” 

she sighs, sliding her wallet from her pocket to reluctantly hand over the bill. she stops just before it touches his palm, “promise you’ll clean your room.” 

eddie goes to grab the paper but robin’s faster, jolting her hand into the air, “and change your sheets.” 

“okay,” he huffs, holding his palm outstretched. 

she graciously places the note down, smiling wickedly as she does so before skipping off back to her own room. 

he can only roll his eyes, turning around to the shit hole that was his room, wondering if fifty dollars was worth having to tackle it. 

-

eddie’s sat on the couch when you arrive, barely looking back as robin begins to fuss, talking loudly about your journey. he doesn’t really care enough to involve himself, besides, elvis presley had just given sam a very important message. 

“eddie,” robin hisses, standing in front of the screen, “don’t be rude, say hello,” her hands firmly on her hips like she was his mother or something. 

he looks up at the looming figure by the couch, hoping his eyes hadn’t given his immediate shock away too much. 

you flash him a sheepish smile back, waggling your fingers in a short wave. 

two weeks on the couch didn’t seem so bad now. 

not if you were sleeping in his bed. 

it’s just a shame that he wouldn’t be in there sharing it. 

“hey,” he stands, hoping to indiscreetly catch his breath, “i’m- uh, i’m eddie,” offering his hand out, though he regrets it as soon as it’s done. 

who shakes hands now? christ. he needed to get a grip, and badly. 

“hey,” you reply, your name dripping from your tongue. though you do shake his hand, not bothering to hide your confusion in the process. 

“eddie very kindly said you could have his room,” a bright, big sarcastic smile on her lips. 

“yeah.. no biggie..” christ, he’s almost panting. “do whatever you want in there.. or you know, just- just make yourself at home.” 

his desperate pleas for the earth to split open and swallow him whole go unanswered. instead, robin shoots him a concerned glare before ushering you away from his weird, longing gaze. 

'pull it together loser' she mouths before disappearing, leaving him to reflect upon how utterly hard he had just fumbled that entire situation. 

-

when everyone’s home from work and you’ve exchanged niceties and greetings with the rest of the house, robin brightly suggests a movie. 

eddie usually hated movie nights in the house. 

jonathan would want to watch some indie cult classic that no one else had ever heard of, steve wanted to watch some dumb comedy that only he’d find funny and then nancy and robin typically opted for the romance genre. 

leaving eddie and argyle with absolutely no choice but to sit in silence as they bickered. 

tonight it’s different, you get to pick. 

and now he’s not saying that whatever you choose will forever change the way he views you but.. well, that’s actually exactly it. 

you land on edward scissorhands. 

not the worst choice you could’ve made, and hey, his mom used to call him edward when he was in real bad trouble. 

in the end, it doesn’t really matter what you had picked because eddie can’t muster up enough energy to actually care about the film. not while your thighs are peeking out from underneath your oversized shirt. he can’t help but wonder what they’d feel like wrapped around his ears. what previous sounds would fall out of your mouth in response.

at some point during the movie, you stand up and walk out of the room to the kitchen but that doesn’t stop him. staring through the open door, marvelling at the way the hem of your shirt lifts, exposing the tiny shorts you had on underneath. 

he’s practically hanging over the back of the couch to get a look, craning his neck at a ninety degree angle just to get a glimpse of your soft, pillowy skin. pinching himself as he tries to resist the urge to just sink his teeth into your inner thigh.

robin jabs her elbow into his ribcage, drawing his eyes back to the room with a grunt and a harsh glare thrown her way. 

“you’ve been staring at her all night,” she whispers angrily into his ear, “stop it, or next time it’s your balls,” a harsh warning he didn’t find entirely necessary. 

you sidle back into the room, drink in hand and eddie can’t help but let his eyes wander over again, short glances that robin hopefully wouldn’t pick up on. 

he can’t help it, some magnetic force swaying his gaze in your direction. he wishes so badly that he could just crawl out of his head and tell you how much he wanted you. 

unfortunately for eddie, he’d instead spend the night dreaming of your ass and all the ways he could have you if he’d only grow a backbone. 

-

living alongside you is an entirely new feat eddie’s not sure he’ll survive. 

it’s torturous. 

testing the limits of how ridiculously horny one man can get without self-imploding. 

so close and yet so far. each night you’d tuck yourself into his bed, doing god knows what in between his sheets all without eddie getting a look in.

of course he’d made up a hundred different scenarios to fall asleep to each night. 

his favourite being the one where he walks into his bedroom to find you mouth open, legs apart, too encapsulated in your pleasure to notice him. only until you do, inviting him closer, between those supple thighs of yours, a forbidden nirvana he’ll never get to know. 

though more often than not he’s cruelly forced back into reality by robin ripping the curtains open at the ass crack of dawn, blaring sunlight on his face as you slip away from the grapples of his dream land. 

now is his opportunity, the house quiet, bar the muffled giggles of you and robin upstairs. he’s safe for now, he thinks, rather foolishly. it’s late, the rest of them asleep or too busy in their own rooms to catch him in the act. 

eddie’s never done anything like this before. it’s disgusting, perverted to the core. 

good grief, this is prosecutable behaviour. 

tiptoeing down the hall to his room, the door open just a crack, enticing him in further. he can still hear you on the floor above, giving him enough confidence to push it open a little more, edging inside with a quick glance back down the hall, just in case. 

gratefully it seemed that you were just as messy as he was, your clothes strewn across the floor. his eyes immediately turning to the peeking of lace from under the pile. glancing one last time at the cracked door, ensuring that absolutely nobody would see him. 

reaching down to gather the fabric in one quick swoop, bunching them in his palm as he lets out a quick sigh of relief. 

oh fuck. they were so soft, fingers spreading to really get a feel. he wasn't even going to take them, he'd just wanted a little look, something to help his overactive imagination get all the important details right.

“what are you doing?” startling him in this precarious position, the lace of your underwear entangled around his fingertips. 

eddie freezes, he can feel the heat rising through his chest, all the way up to the tips of his ears. scarlet red. 

“uh.. i..i-i don’t know..” he hasn’t done anything like this before, he swears. 

your mouth is open in a sort of half-smirk, half-perplexed gawp, closing the door before he could bolt. 

you move around the mess, creeping closer until he can feel you brushing against his side, peering over into his hand. 

“oh wow..” you remark, breath hot and sweet against his cheek, “what were you gonna do with those?” 

eddie feels sick, trying not to projectile vomit across his room. there’s no way you wouldn’t tell robin. fuck. he could hear you now, voice full of disgust, robin laughing at how pathetic he was. 

“n-nothing i swear..” stumbling through his sentence, “i was just..” excuses fail to come to mind, “i was uhm.. looking for something,” the absolute best his flustered mind to muster up. 

“oh really?” reaching around to untangle them from his hand, “you sure about that?” 

there’s no anger to your voice, but he doesn’t dare turn around to look at your face. afraid of what he’ll find. your eyes pitying, sad that he has to root around your dirty laundry to get off. 

“i’m- i’m sure,” though the crack in his voice gives him away. 

you hum, coming around to stand in front of his gormless face, “so you don’t wanna keep these?” holding the evidence up to his face, the hem just barely grazing his cheek. 

eddie’s knees almost buckle, his breath shuddering as any semblance of composure he had left, floats right out the window. 

“here,” reaching forward to tuck the baby blue fabric into the waistband of his sweatpants, your eyes never once leaving his as you do so. “you keep those.. but next time just ask, okay?” 

he nods like an obedient dog, lapping up the scraps you were throwing him. he could stand here all night long, keeping up the weird little power game you’d started. 

“goodnight eddie,” you smile, giving him a gentle nudge, a sign for him to get the fuck out. 

you were the master, he was just the lap dog, eager to please. 

-

at breakfast the next morning, he struggles to even keep his eyes open. having spent an embarrassingly long amount of time on the couch last night shamelessly sniffing the lace you’d gifted him. 

you don’t even acknowledge it, or him for that matter. happily chatting along with nancy about some news article. 

“oh and eddie,” robin begins, flashing him a stern look, “i don’t appreciate finding your fucking panties in between the couch cushions,” 

he chokes on his mouthful, his knife clattering against the table in shock. a multitude of eyes turn to stare at the spectacle he was making. 

“they’re- they’re not mine,” clearing his throat as he clears his name, though he doesn’t dare look in your direction, terrified that he’d absolutely lose his mind if he did. 

“well whoever’s they are, i don’t care, stop leaving them on the couch.. i’m sure our guest doesn’t want to sit amongst dirty underwear,” she bites, calming down now she had gotten her point across. 

if only she knew. 

eddie must’ve fallen asleep with them still attached to his hand, thanking his lucky stars that no one had walked in on him with them pressed to his nose.  

he keeps his head low, focusing on the plate in front of him. nothing had ever been as mortifying as this. not even the time he had slipped off the dinner table in the middle of the cafeteria. 

cutlery scrapes and clinks against the china, uncomfortable silence until argyle clears his throat, “gnarly meal robin, thanks dude,” seemingly settling the tense atmosphere, for now. 

everybody hums in agreement, getting back to their food without another word. but your eyes peek up, meeting his with an indescribable glint. and really, the worst part is that eddie would sit through this horrific situation a hundred more times, just for one more measly sniff at your panties. 

-

eddie can’t take it anymore. 

he’s never been so pent up in his entire life. and he’s tried to hold on until he could move back into his room but he couldn’t last any longer. 

but he’s careful, waiting for everyone to trundle on off to bed, listening carefully for the muted click of the light switch and even then, waiting another hour to be sure. 

the clock glares an alarming 1:04 by the time his belt clinks and his jeans come down, the first of them would be awake in just a few hours, ready to take you on to the airport. 

he wishes it would’ve played out differently, that he wouldn’t be sat here on the last night of your stay alone. but alas, eddie’s never been particularly brave and especially not in regards to hot women. 

your panties wrapped around his right hand as he spits on his left, wrapping around his stiff cock while his fingertips play with the lace in his other hand. 

“ohh fuck,” he hisses, wanting nothing more than to start hollering the house down. 

robin wouldn’t be too pleased if she ever found out what he’d done. and he can’t really afford to get the entire couch dry-cleaned so he really must be careful. 

thinking quick, he shoves his t-shirt into his mouth, muffling the chorus of grunts and groans threatening to spill over into the dark room. the muted light from the tv illuminates his face, breathing loudly through his nose 

he hadn’t heard the door open or the soft sound of your feet padding down the hall, only made aware of your presence when he reopens his eyes, near enough jumping out of his bones. 

how long had you been there watching him shudder and whine?

“fuck,” he exclaims, fist still wrapped tight around his throbbing cock, too aroused to care about it too much. 

“you want some help with that?” 

eddie looks at his dick, then back at you, mouth hung open in a mixture of awe and confusion. 

it’s not very clear but you move closer anyway, sinking to your knees and nestling in between his spread legs. 

“okay?” maintaining eye contact despite how difficult it was, eyes bright and eager. 

he nods, unable to comprehend what was happening. knowing he’d wake up from this twisted dream to some soggy boxers and a whole lotta shame. 

your palm wraps around the base of his cock, shooing his hands away to make room, smiling as your lips wrap around the already leaking tip. were you a psychopath? were you placed on this earth to goad and tease him?

this isn’t real. this isn’t real. the voice repeats around his head though it’s quickly silenced by your tongue swirling circles around the tip of his cock, readjusting his t-shirt to bite down harshly on the fabric. 

eddie’s hands lay useless on his thighs, twitching to intertwine with your hair, still doubting the reality of the situation. this could all be a dream and the second he touches your hair, you’d disappear from in front of his eyes.

the t-shirt falls from his lips, “fuuck,” grunting into the tense air, gritting his teeth so as to not expose your precarious position to the rest of the house. 

the wet sounds of your lips wrapped tight around his cock make his toes curl, his hands find your hair, not without prompting from you. tugging gently at the tendrils as his head starts to spin. 

when your eyes look up to meet his, eddie thinks he might just cum right down your throat then and there. he can see that troublesome glint in your eye, a roaring fire that he so desperately wants to keep stoking. 

your fingers slide up his thigh, finding his neglected balls and with a slight smirk, you grab ahold, gently fondling them as his brain melts out of his ears. 

no one had ever, ever made him feel so good. collectively losing brain cells when you hum on his cock, getting just as much out of this as he was. 

“oh yeah, fuck- shit fuck, i’mcummingi’mcummingi’mcumming,” eddie’s mouth rushes, louder than he ever should’ve been. bright flashes of light fill his peripheral, using your scalp as leverage to keep himself on the couch. 

his hips stutter, thrusting into your mouth with his fingers tight in your hair, yanking harshly in an effort to get your lips off of him before he came everywhere. 

you don’t budge, nails digging into his thigh as his release seeps down your throat, his eyes squeezing shut as his fist instinctively comes up to muffle his mouth, moaning into his clammy palm instead of alerting the entire house. 

eddie’s other hand lets go of his strong hold on your hair, allowing you to get off of his dick, panting happily as you sit up between his knees and with lips glistening with his release, you kiss him. all soft and gentle while his brain fails to compute. 

it should be gross. but eddie just can’t find it in himself to care, because in reality, this was the hottest thing that had ever happened in his measly little life. 

“please let me taste you,” he begs between kisses, grasping desperately at your waist, the fabric of your shirt slipping between his desperate fingers.

you giggle, pulling back to look at him through the dimmed light, “not now,” you hover just above, constantly teasing and unobtainable

“well when?" jutting his bottom lip out in hopes it'd convince you to change your mind.

"when i'm back," letting him down gently. eddie'd count the seconds till you came back if that was what it took to get even a tiny glimpse of your pussy.

“what time do you leave?” he pants, chasing your lips. eddie was nothing if not a chancer, though if it hadn't happened already, there's a miniscule chance of it happening now.

“seven,” whispering back, a hint of annoyance that this build up had only crescendoed now, just as you were about to leave. he'll blame robin for that, poking her nose in and trying to turn him off. it shouldn't have worked. he should've been braver.

“but it’s your turn,” an awful sadness and regret overcoming him. someone better, someone like steve, would've had you pinned to that couch by now, his head between your thighs and your slick dripping down his chin.  

“next time,” only repeating yourself, smiling coyly before you plant one last kiss to his longing lips before standing fully upright and disappearing back off to his room, leaving him reeling with a story nobody else would ever believe.

[smudgedeyeshadow]

furthermore, vacations are very hard for me because my family is very aggressive and can be mean and im pretty sensitive so they say things that upset me a lot or misinterpret what im saying and get angry at me and they let my brother bully me, and the fact that i cant have an escape from being vilified by my own family because im “complaining about being on vacation” is absolutely retarded to me like just cuz im on vacation doesnt always mean its good 😕 but whatever complain abt ur dad being dead for the millionth time see if i care or complain abt the job you bragged abt being so mature for having u fucking hypocrites

[brokenmenswhore]

can we get a part 2 to proposition? 🥺😩

i have NEVER gotten so many comments or inbox requests for something IN MY LIFE. here you go you horny fuckers i love you lots

a proposition: accepted | poly!marauders

pairing: poly!marauders x fem!reader (james, remus, and sirius, featuring alecto, dorcas, evan, lily, and mary)

warnings: exhibitionism/voyeurism (MDNI 18+), smut, virginity loss

a/n: there will be a part 3 IF y’all want it :)

a proposition: masterlist

────── ☾ ──────

“How exactly does this work?” you asked, looking around the table in search of an answer from anyone present. You were excited, and you accepted the offer immediately, but now craved more detail.

“The only people we have sex with are the people at this table,” James began to explain, “so it’s relationship-y in that sense, but none of us are coupled off or anything.”

“You guys don’t get worried about favorites?”

Dorcas and Lily smiled and let out a small ‘aweh’ at your innocence.

“Everyone brings something different to the table,” Dorcas began to explain, “for instance, I’m not getting the same head from Mary that I’m getting from James.”

Your cheeks reddened and your eyes widened at her crude statement. If you were going to do this, sex had to be something you were comfortable talking about, so you pushed your nerves down with a swallow, but the whole table could already sense your innocence.

“Do we, like, all do it, like, at the same time? Or-“

Sirius smiled. You were fucking perfect for this if that’s the idea you had in your head.

“We can,” Sirius took over, “or sometimes it’s just two of us, three of us, or whatever. As long as you’re only sexually active with the people at this table.”

“Are you sexually active with anyone else?” Alecto asked.

You swallowed hard. “N-no.”

“Ok, and what are your limits?”

You looked at Remus in confusion.

“We gotta ask a couple questions to know what you’re comfortable with,” he explained, but your confusion maintained.

“My limits?”

“Well, when you’ve had sex before, was there anything you didn’t like? Anything you would want any of us doing with you?”

You stared at Remus, hoping someone would ask another question and change the subject. Your silence was more telling than a verbal answer would have been.

“You have had sex, yeah?”

You dropped your head, your eyesight on your thighs where Sirius’s hand rested. You began to fidget with your fingers in nervousness.

Sirius shifted in his chair to adjust the uncomfortability of his growing hardness. He knew you were innocent, but he didn’t know you were that innocent.

“Is it really a good idea for us to bring a virgin into this?” Lily asked, immediately turning to you, “not that we don’t want you, love, but are you okay with this? Like really okay with it?”

“Yeah,” you responded, “but if you guys aren’t okay with-“

A chorus of “no no no we are!” and “it’s okay!” erupted from nearly everyone trying to assure you they were not having doubts of their own, but concerns for you.

“We’ll take it easy at first, and you just tell whoever you’re with if you aren’t comfortable with something, how about that?” James proposed, “we’ll work our way up to other things. No rush.”

You nodded your head, smiling at his understanding. “Yeah, yeah I like that.”

“Good,” Sirius said, “so you just stop me if you want to.”

You furrowed your brows in confusion as you looked at Sirius, who looked back at you as if he was doing nothing, but the hand on your thigh began to move.

You gasped lightly as Sirius moved higher and higher up your thigh, the only thing between his hand and your core being your underwear. He ran a finger over the cloth, a wet spot forming quickly as he rubbed between your folds.

Your cheeks were on fire as you looked around the table, and everyone was looking at you.

You suddenly became very self conscious, and leaned into the crook of Sirius’s neck, whispering, “they’re all just gonna watch?”

“Mhm,” Sirius hummed in your hair, tracing the band of your underwear, “that okay?”

He then dipped a finger beneath your underwear, finding your clit and slowly circling around the bud. No one but you had ever done this before, and it was exhilarating and embarrassing all at once.

“Can’t people see?” you whispered.

Sirius chuckled. He was so amused and having so much fun with you, as was everyone. “We gotcha covered, doll.”

The pet name drove you crazy, and you could feel yourself getting wetter and wetter as Sirius began to feel you.

You hid your face in the crook of his neck, but he advised you against it. “Let ‘em see your pretty face,” he said, “you’re here because we all wanna see this.”

Your heart was pounding, and barely anything had started, but you could feel everyone’s eyes on you.

You adjusted so that you were resting your head against Sirius’s shoulder, but could still see everyone, and they could still see you.

Sirius took the opportunity of your movement to move his fingers lower and insert one into you, causing your hips to jolt and you to moan in surprise.

“Sh,” Sirius warned, placing a kiss on top of your head, “we’re still in a restaurant, remember?”

You did not remember. Your thoughts were clouded by the pleasure and embarrassment you were experiencing.

Remus looked around the vicinity of the table to ensure no one else was in earshot, and he leaned over the wood, lowly saying, “you wanna show us all how you come?”

You had never experienced dirty talk, and didn’t comprehend that it was rhetorical.

Your voice was strained and low as you did your best to say, “sure.”

Both Evan and Lily giggled to each other. “You didn’t have to answer, honey, just relax. Sirius is a master at this stuff.”

Sirius pumped his finger in and out of you, your spongy walls convulsing around the digit as his thumb rubbed your clit, intensifying the pleasure.

You felt a drop in the pit of your stomach, and you knew what it meant. You tapped Mary’s shoulder next to you. It was the nearest thing, and you hoped she would catch on.

“What’s up?” she asked, playing dumb.

You only tapped her more fervently.

“Gotta use your words, angel,” James chimes in, “we all wanna hear you say it.”

You took a deep breath, nearly whispering, “I think I’m gonna come, Sirius, I-“

Sirius moved his hand faster and faster, and he was nearly growling as you leaned your body against his, finding comfort in him as you came around his fingers, your legs shaking from the intensity.

Everyone at the table began to cheer as a tease. Sirius removed his hand from you, looking you directly in the eyes as he licked your juices off of his fingers.

You gazed up at him through hooded eyes, attempting to catch your breath as your body adjusted to the absence of pleasure again.

“Is it okay if I stay here for a while?” you asked, referring to your head resting on Sirius’s shoulder.

“Of course,” he answered, looking to everyone else, “good pick on my part, I’d say.”

────── ☾ ──────

“What’s up?” you asked James the next day as he sat across from you at your usual table in the library.

“They sent me to ask you because they think I’m the nicest,” James said.

“Ask me what?” you asked.

“Well,” James started, “you know, you’re a part of this thing now, and they just- we just- oh my god. Do you have a preference on who you lose your virginity to?”

Your eyes widened. “Do I have a preference?”

“This is all consent based, we aren’t just gonna decide something like that for you.”

“Are you asking me to pick one of you to give it up to?”

“Pretty much, yeah.”

“Doesn’t it make me an asshole if I don’t say you?”

“Why would it?” James questioned.

“Because you’re the one asking me.”

“I have Lily and Dorcas’s, I’m set,” James said, “taking Lily’s was a win.”

“You’re such a guy,” you joked.

“You’re avoiding the question,” James retorted. “Sirius is the one who wanted to bring you into this in the first place, you know.”

You began to blush. “I’m scared of Sirius.”

“Scared? What do you mean?”

“Yesterday was fun, but for my first time, I’m scared he’d be too rough.”

“Sirius is a big ol’ softie,” James said, leaning back in his chair, “but fair enough. No pressure, angel, just let me know whenever you’re ready.”

You assumed that meant you had time, but James didn’t move.

“You really want an answer now, huh?”

“I kinda really do,” James smiled.

You contemplated your options, sifting through all the members of the group that you could choose from. You would be okay with a few of them, but one felt especially right.

“Remus,” you said.

James nodded. “Remus it is.”

“This feels weird.”

“You could just tell him yourself,” James said, standing up, leaving you with the idea to do so.

After classes has ended, you stood outside the Gryffindor common room, waiting for anyone you knew to walk by and let you in.

“Fuckin’ hell, you guys take forever,” you said as Lily approached, “can you let me in? I need to talk to Remus.”

Lily smiled. “Yeah you do,” she giggled.

She let you into the common room and directed you to the boys dormitories. You crept up the staircase, unsure of who would be there and not wanting to intrude or see something you shouldn’t.

Up the stairs, you found Remus, James, and Evan.

“Hey,” you said.

“Hey,” Evan responded, “you need something?”

“Would you guys mind if I spoke to Remus real quick?”

James and Evan didn’t answer, but instead just stood up and began to leave. When James was next to you, he leaned in and whispered, “hope it’s not real quick,” before departing.

You blushed and turned to Remus, who was kind enough to act like he didn’t know why you were there.

“What’s up?” Remus asked, sitting on the edge of his bed.

“I know James told everyone about our conversation, you don’t have to play dumb, though I do appreciate it.”

“Not playin’ dumb, baby, just wanna hear you ask for what you came here for.”

You took a deep breath and sat down next to Remus, the mattress sinking beneath you. “As you know, I’m a virgin.”

Remus chuckled. “I know.”

“I’d kinda like to not be.”

Remus smiled. “So ask me.”

“What?”

“Ask me,” he repeated, “can’t give you what you want if you don’t explicitly ask for it.”

You sighed. “I want you to please take my virginity, Remus.”

“Atta girl,” Remus said, leaning over and placing a soft kiss on your lips.

You reciprocated instantly, shifting your body closer to his as you deepened the kiss. You were not entirely confident in what you were doing, but you listened to your body, which had never been needier.

Remus guided your body down against the mattress, and pulled away when you were laying down.

“You can move back,” he said, and you used your arms to push yourself backward, allowing your entire body to rest against the bed.

“I’m gonna take it easy on you, just tell me if anything is too much, okay?”

“Okay.”

Remus kissed you again, and simultaneously pulled your skirt and underwear off of your legs in one action.

“You want this off?” he said, tugging at the bottom of your top.

“Can we maybe just leave it on? Baby steps, right?”

Remus gave you a sweet smile. “Whatever you’re comfortable with, baby.”

“Are you allowed to call me that?”

Remus was slightly taken aback. “What, baby? Yeah, why not?”

“It sounds relationship-y.”

“Sex is relationship-y.”

“But I thought we weren’t supposed to be relationship-y.”

“You’re about to lose your virginity, and you’re worried about if it’s ethically alright for me to call you baby?”

You blushed.

“I can call you whatever I want, and right now, you’re my baby, okay?”

“Okay,” you responded.

“Unless you don’t like it.”

“No, no, I do.”

Remus laughed. “Okay then, baby.”

You smiled as you pulled his lips back to yours. You were already soaking wet, but Remus still took the time for foreplay to ensure you were wet enough for it to be comfortable.

He softly rubbed circles on your clit, and you instinctively threw your head back against the mattress, sighing in pleasure.

He only stayed for a few moments before moving his hand lower and inserting one, then two, fingers into you. You didn’t really need the foreplay, but he felt bad fucking you without it. He needed to make sure you were ready, especially if you didn’t know how to tell yourself.

He pumped his fingers in and out a few times before removing them completely and unbuttoning his trousers, pushing them down, and crawling back on top of you.

“Are you ready?” he checked in.

“Yes,” you said, deciding explicit verbal consent was important.

Remus pumped his cock a few times before lining it up with your entrance. He pushed the very tip of his head in, getting his bearings before he drifted his gaze to your face, desperate to watch your reaction to feeling him for the first time.

He pushed in slowly, pausing for brief moments anytime your face contorted a little more than usual, and he took his time. He was in no rush, and he was focused on your comfort, which you appreciated.

When he finally bottomed out inside of you, he stilled, waiting for you to adjust to his size.

“You alright?” he checked in when you hadn’t opened your eyes or made a noise for a solid 30 seconds.

“I’m alright,” you assured him, “you can move.”

“You sure?”

“Mhm.”

Remus slowly pulled partially out of you before pushing back in. He was moving excruciatingly slow, and was fighting with all his strength not to ruthlessly fuck you into oblivion.

He began to pull out a little more with each thrust, studying your face to gage your comfort levels. By the time he was pulling almost all the way out he could physically see your muscles relax.

“How ya doin’?”

“I’m okay,” you whined, “hurts a little, but it’s going away now.”

“You wanna stop?”

“No, please keep moving,” you moaned.

Remus growled lowly and began to fuck into you again, moving slightly faster, but it wasn’t enough for you.

The burning pain had dissipated, and now all you wanted was more.

“Remus, please, faster,” you whimpered, and Remus’s body instantly responded.

He began to move faster and faster, setting a steady, relatively fast pace as he fucked in and out of you.

You ran your fingers through the hair on the back of his head and pulled him into a kiss as he fucked you, allowing him to swallow your moans and whines.

“Shit, you feel so good,” Remus praised, “I forgot how tight virgins are.”

His words added to your arousal, and you began to squeeze Remus’s cock, adding to his pleasure.

“Fuck,” he moaned, “I won’t last if you do that.”

“Can’t help it,” you moaned out.

Remus began to fuck you even faster, and your back arched up off of the bed at the new intensity. Remus took the opportunity to wrap an arm around your waist and hold you closer to him.

You were squirmy and whiny. “Relax, baby,” Remus cooed, “just let it feel good.”

You took a deep breath and tried to relax, relishing in the feeling of Remus’s cock pumping in and out of you.

“Feel good?” he asked.

“Mhm,” you hummed in response, “can’t- gonna-“

“You wanna come?” Remus taunted, “you wanna come on my cock?”

You nodded your head frantically, grabbing at the arms propped up directly next to your head for any support you could find.

“Wanna feel you, baby,” Remus whispered in your ear, and his words did you in.

You squeezed Remus tight as you came. Your back would have arched more if Remus wasn’t holding it in place. Your thighs were shaking violently as you continued to squeeze around him.

He forced himself to slow down as you came down from your high. When your breathing had reset, he pulled out of you, giving his cock a few pumps with his hand before he released onto the sheets next to your waist.

You wiped sweat-soaked hair from your forehead. “You could have done that on me.”

Remus grinned, “I could have, huh?” He leaned in and kissed you before standing up to retrieve you a towel.

“You okay?”

“Yeah, thank you, Rem.”

Remus’s heart swelled at the small nickname. “Fuckin wait until I tell everyone about this.”

────── ☾ ──────

taglist: @alixmarauders @riddlemenottsluttyslytherin @twilightlover2007 @hcqwxrtss123 @queerndepressed @prongs-wolfstar-marauders @flowersarcute

[kyofsonder]

I understand the immediate emotional recoil, and the need to defend humanity and/or the self. You read "we each have a nazi in us" and it's perfectly reasonable for the emotional part of your brain to think "that word means evil and I don't want to live in a world where I have evil inside me -- I might not be a good person, but I'm not evil." It makes sense that this fear would naturally override calmer analysis of what's actually being said.

"We all have evil within us" doesn't mean we all act on that evil. It doesn't mean we all have an evil phase where we're cruel and bigoted until we see the light. It doesn't mean we all have a curse that transforms us into were-nazis on a full moon.

It means that "hatred, rage, fear, narcissistic self-regard and contempt for others" as actions and beliefs that harm others are the building blocks of what we call evil by another name. It means that everybody gets mad, finds things or people to hate, gets scared, gets too much in their own head, and forgets that others deserve patience and respect. Everybody has the capacity for these things in normal, manageable, human degrees.

Everybody also has the capacity to have these things turned up full volume in their own heads until nothing else gets through. There are people whose internal slider goes up the less they're exposed to the humanity of others, and in their isolation they become so bitter and hateful that they look down on others in a way that becomes outright cruel. There are people whose internal slider goes up the more they're exposed to other people's cruelty, and in their fear they decide to fight fire with fire. Become cruel or die. This is the impact of trauma that the author is talking about.

We are not all evil by default. We are not all good by default. We are all human by default, and that means all of us have emotions that can be turned into actions and all of our actions can be cruel or kind or otherwise if we let them.

It's our responsibility, individually, to check on our emotional state and our emotional history (with whatever guidance we need to make it safe, some people need workbooks and others need groupchats and others need to try a few times to find a good therapist) and make sure our sliders are set at safe and reasonable levels. It's up to us to avoid having the evil that's within us become evil that acts on the world around us.

If this helps, it's a little like saying all cats are dangerous because they have claws. It's true that claws are dangerous, even a small cut can become easily infected. It's true that having claws is the normal state for a cat. It's not true that all cats will scratch no matter how you treat them. It's not true that all cats need to he declawed to be safe around humans, and the declawing process is actually actively harmful to cats. It's not true that all cats are dangerous to humans any more than it's true that all humans are evil. What is true is that it's important to treat our cats with patience and understanding, and teach them proper claw control so they don't scratch us by accident. We find compromises that are the least harmful to both cat and human in those cases where claw control can't be taught.

To say "we each have a nazi in us" is to say "cats each have claws within them." We don't need to defend ourselves against the statement. We don't need to apologize pre-emptively for being evil. We need to treat ourselves with patience and understanding, and learn proper emotional and mental control so we don't fall into hateful doctrine or lash out emotionally.

We all have the capacity for cruelty. Every person in the world. No matter what. It's up to us how to manage that, and whether we want to break the cycle of cruelty that already exists.

im gonna be real with you guys a little but you are all deeply fucking stupid

[rafecameronssl4t]

Omg god can you please do a forced marriage au. Where reader is being weirdly clingy(Ik it doesn’t really fit her vibe) and rafe’s weirded out. And she kisses him unexpectedly and he’s so confused.

Drunk kisses || Rafe Cameron x fem!reader

A/n: fluffy fic which ik all of you have been wanting in this au so u are welcome ;)

Warnings: none really just fluff

Word count: 2,380

MASTERLIST (forced marriage au masterlist)

divider by @h-aewo

Rafe barely glanced up from his laptop when the front doorbell rang. The sharp sound cut through the quiet of the house, but he quickly resumed typing, thinking nothing of it at first. It rang again, more insistently this time, drawing his attention. He frowned, closing his laptop and glancing toward the hallway.

"Anita?" he called out, expecting the familiar shuffle of the housekeeper’s footsteps. But silence greeted him in return. He checked his watch—it was past midnight. Of course, everyone had gone home by now.

With a frustrated sigh, Rafe stood and headed toward the foyer, the steady ringing making him wonder who could possibly be at their door at such an ungodly hour. He glanced at the small display screen by the entrance, his brow furrowing at the sight of you. You were slumped against your sister, who looked like she was struggling to hold you upright. Rafe’s confusion deepened as he swung open the door.

Before he could say anything, you staggered forward, collapsing right into his arms. Charlotte let out a startled gasp, covering her mouth in shock as Rafe instinctively caught you, his hands gripping your waist to steady you. "Jesus," he muttered under his breath, trying to process what was happening. You looked up at him with a lazy, drunken smile, the scent of alcohol heavy on your breath.

The sight of you—usually so composed and poised—now giggling like a carefree girl was jarring. “Oh, look, Lottie! It’s my husband. My gorgeous husb—” you slurred, a soft giggle escaping your lips as you tried to blow a strand of hair away from your face. But before you could finish, Rafe cut you off, his annoyance already simmering beneath the surface.

"How much did you let her drink?" he snapped, turning his icy blue gaze toward Charlotte. There was disbelief in his voice, a hint of something protective and yet frustrated. You had been out of control before, but never like this. “I—I tried,” Charlotte stammered, her face flushed with guilt. “I gave her something else—”

“What? More alcohol?” Rafe’s tone was sharp, and Charlotte flinched under his harsh words. He couldn’t believe it. You were usually guarded, careful—this wasn’t like you at all. Rafe glanced down at you again, a mixture of irritation and concern flashing across his face as you leaned further into him, still smiling like the world was spinning too slowly for you.

"We're supposed to have breakfast with your parents tomorrow," he muttered, more to himself than to you. His jaw clenched, the thought of having to face them with you like this filling him with dread. As much as he loathed the idea of those formal meals, they mattered in your world—the perfect image you were both supposed to maintain.

Rafe struggled to keep you upright, your legs barely cooperating as you leaned heavily against him, still giggling softly. His frustration flared again, and he shot a sharp glance at Charlotte, who stood frozen in the doorway, wringing her hands nervously. “How the hell did this even happen?” he demanded, his voice low but dangerous.

Charlotte hesitated, shifting her weight from foot to foot. “She… she just kept ordering more drinks. I tried to stop her, I swear, but she insisted. And, well, you know how stubborn she can get.” Rafe let out a bitter laugh. "Yeah, I know." He looked down at you as you murmured something incoherent, your fingers toying with the collar of his shirt.

"And you didn’t think to call me? Or at least cut her off?” “I—” Charlotte started but quickly swallowed her words when Rafe’s icy gaze met hers again. "I thought she'd sober up. I didn’t want to make a scene… and she kept saying she was fine." "Clearly, she’s not fine," Rafe snapped, his tone sharp as he adjusted his grip on you, trying to stop you from slipping further down his side.

“You should’ve stopped her. God, Charlotte, you know we have that damn breakfast tomorrow.” Charlotte’s eyes widened as if realising the gravity of the situation all over again. “I’m sorry, Rafe. I really didn’t mean for it to get this out of hand…” Rafe clenched his jaw, his patience thinning with each passing second. “Well, it did. And now I have to deal with this.” He shook his head, his grip tightening slightly on your waist as he hoisted you up a little higher.

“Mmm… Rafe," you mumbled softly, your head lolling against his chest. “You're always so serious.” Your words slurred together, and you let out another soft laugh, as if this entire situation was some kind of joke. Rafe's brow furrowed, his annoyance tempered for a moment by the sight of you so completely out of character. He wasn’t used to seeing you like this—carefree, uninhibited, and honestly, it unnerved him.

“You should go home, Charlotte,” Rafe finally said, his voice quieter now but still holding that authoritative edge. “I’ll take care of her.” Your sister looked hesitant, her eyes flicking between you and Rafe. "Are you sure? I can help—" "No, just go. You've done enough." His tone left no room for argument, and Charlotte sighed in defeat, giving him a small nod before stepping back toward the door.

“I really am sorry,” she murmured softly, her voice laced with guilt. She cast one last glance at you, who was now resting your head against Rafe’s chest, your arms loosely draped around his neck. Rafe didn’t respond, his attention now fully on you as Charlotte finally made her exit.

The front door closed behind her with a soft click, leaving the two of you alone in the dimly lit foyer. You stirred in his arms, blinking up at him with bleary eyes, the remnants of your smile still lingering. “You always look so serious, Rafe,” you whispered, your words thick with exhaustion. “Why can’t you just… relax?” Rafe sighed deeply, his frustration mixing with an odd sense of helplessness.

He wasn’t used to feeling like this—torn between annoyance and something else he couldn’t quite place. "Because someone has to be," he muttered, more to himself than to you. You giggled again, leaning your forehead against his chest. “Maybe I should be serious too, then. Like you. So we can both be… boring together.” You laughed softly at your own words, your fingers tracing absentminded circles on his chest.

Rafe’s lips twitched again, the ghost of a smile threatening to break through his usually stoic expression. You were a mess, slurring your words and giggling like a child, but in the soft, dim glow of the foyer, you looked undeniably beautiful. Strands of hair framed your face in a way that made you seem even more delicate, your skin glowing faintly under the soft lighting.

For a fleeting moment, he found himself captivated by how vulnerable and unguarded you appeared—so different from the strong-willed woman he was used to. But he quickly shook the thought away, forcing himself to stay focused. This was not the time to get caught up in sentiment. “You’re drunk,” he repeated, his voice firmer this time, though still touched with that same gentleness that had snuck in earlier.

“Come on, let’s get you to bed before you say something else you’ll regret.” His eyes lingered on your face, watching as your expression shifted from amusement to a peaceful kind of daze. The way you leaned further into him, trusting him completely in your intoxicated state, stirred something unexpected within him—an unfamiliar blend of protectiveness and tenderness.

It unsettled him, but he pushed it aside, convincing himself it was just the responsibility of the moment. You hummed softly, your eyes fluttering closed, a contented sigh slipping past your lips. “Mmm… my gorgeous husband, taking care of me,” you teased, your voice barely above a whisper but carrying a playful edge that made Rafe’s heart beat a little faster.

Even drunk, you were still testing him, still finding a way to get under his skin. He rolled his eyes, though there was no real malice behind it. “Yeah, yeah, I’m your gorgeous husband,” he muttered, half-exasperated, half-amused as he tightened his grip on you, making sure you were secure in his arms. “Let’s just focus on getting you upstairs in one piece.”

You chuckled softly, your head resting more comfortably against his chest, your breath warm against the fabric of his shirt. “Always so serious…” you mumbled, your voice trailing off as sleep began to claim you. Rafe glanced down at you again, shaking his head slightly. Even in this state, you still managed to get to him. He started moving toward the stairs, his steps careful as he balanced your weight against his own.

Rafe opened the door to your shared room, his movements steady as he guided you into the closet. “Here, you should get changed into something more comfortable,” he murmured, opening a drawer and pulling out one of his shirts—a soft, oversized one you often stole when you didn’t want to bother with your own clothes. He handed it to you, watching as your tired gaze shifted toward the shirt before flickering back to him.

“Can… can you help me take my dress off?” you muttered, barely audible, your voice tinged with exhaustion and the alcohol that still clouded your thoughts. You gave him those wide, pleading doe eyes that always managed to catch him off guard. Rafe inhaled sharply but quickly nodded. He’d seen you like this before—unguarded, your skin bare, but it never failed to stir something in him.

It wasn’t the sight of your skin that unsettled him; he was used to that. Over time, in this strange forced marriage, he’d grown accustomed to the intimacy of shared space, of your body in close proximity. It was the trust you displayed, the way you asked for his help now, that threw him off balance. You turned around, shifting your hair to one side, exposing the zipper of your dress.

Rafe reached for it, fingers grazing your back as he slowly pulled the zipper down, the fabric sliding easily off your shoulders. His eyes briefly flickered to the dress, a slight frown on his face—it was shorter than he liked, something he wasn’t thrilled about you wearing out. But now, as you stepped out of it, all he could think about was how fragile you looked.

You grabbed the shirt from his hands and pulled it over your head, the soft cotton falling past your thighs as you kicked off your heels with a relieved sigh. Rafe watched you for a moment longer before quietly guiding you toward the bathroom. He rummaged through the drawer, pulling out your toothbrush and squeezing toothpaste onto it before handing it to you. You brushed your teeth lazily, your movements growing slower as your eyelids drooped, exhaustion settling in.

Rafe stood by, waiting until you were done before helping you back to the bed. Just as your body sank into the soft sheets, ready to drift off into sleep, he lightly patted your cheek, keeping you from completely fading. "Uh-uh, gotta get that makeup off, or you'll throw a fit tomorrow morning," Rafe teased, reaching for the wipes on your vanity. You groaned in protest, your voice muffled against the pillow. “I won’t.”

“Yes, you will,” Rafe retorted, walking back over and sitting on the edge of the bed. He began gently wiping the makeup from your face, his touch careful and methodical. He had done this before, knew the routine, and though the task was mundane, there was an unspoken closeness in these moments that neither of you ever acknowledged.

He returned to the bed, sitting beside you as he carefully wiped away the layers of makeup. His touch was gentle, more considerate than you expected, his brow furrowed in concentration as he made sure to remove every trace. You gazed up at him through heavy lids, feeling the warmth of his hand against your skin and the softness of his gestures.

When he was done, he moved to pull away, but your fingers curled around his wrist, stopping him. Rafe looked at you, confusion briefly crossing his face, but the intensity in your gaze softened him. "Thank you," you whispered, your voice tender, vulnerable in a way it rarely was. Your eyes drifted to his lips, your heart picking up speed as the moment stretched between you.

Rafe swallowed, his Adam’s apple bobbing slightly as he nodded, his voice hushed. “Of course.” Without another word, you gently pulled him closer, closing the space between you. Your lips met his in a slow, tentative kiss—an action that felt more like a quiet confession than anything else. Rafe stiffened at first, but then his lips moved against yours, soft yet firm, as though the weight of the night had brought you both to this point.

But he pulled back after a moment, his eyes searching yours for something he wasn’t even sure of. “Get some sleep,” he whispered, pulling the sheets up to tuck you in. He pressed a gentle kiss to your forehead, his lips lingering just a second longer than usual before he stood, leaving the room without another glance.

—

The next morning, sunlight filtered through the curtains as you slowly lifted your head from the pillow, a dull throb of pain radiating through your temples. You winced, squinting against the brightness as the events of the previous night came flooding back—Charlotte, the drinks, Rafe helping you to bed, and… the kiss.

You stirred slightly, feeling the sheets move beside you. Glancing over, you saw Rafe’s sleeping form, his features relaxed. He lay facing you, still half-asleep, though he must have sensed your movement because he mumbled groggily, “On your bedside table.”

You turned, spotting the glass of water and the medicine waiting for you. A small smile tugged at your lips despite the pounding in your head. Even when his words were rough, his actions showed a softness you were beginning to see more often.

You reached for the water and pills, the gesture not lost on you. As you downed the water, you couldn’t help but glance back at him, wondering if, beneath all the tension and complications between you, something deeper had started to bloom.

[pleasantlycrazyworld]

He can't be that animalistic...can he?

This is inspired by @grapejollyrancher post I hope I did it justice <3 request are open and if you'd like to be added to my taglist just lmk!!! if you do enjoy my work please like, comment, and reblog! It really helps me want to continue posting on here

Logan's thoughts are italicized. Kinda smutty

Summary: reader can hear animals thoughts but all of the sudden she can hear Logan's thoughts too.

You developed your powers when you were young. It was scary at first. Hearing random voices in your head would scare anyone, but the things you heard were so weird usually. You would hear a voice asking for a treat, to be scratched behind the ear, or to be let inside. When you met Charles, he helped you learn how to talk back, this was a big advantage when it came to missions in places like the woods or a jungle but for the most part you never needed to demand the animals to do anything for you they just seemed to like you and wanted to keep you safe.

It had been a while since you got scared by what you heard. You were walking to your room one night from the kitchen when a deep voice echoed through your head. You jumped slightly and tried to listen to what was being asked, 'fuck who drank my last beer?' confusion filled you. What kind of animal would be around the mansion...and looking for beer? You continued to your room and tried to get some sleep while thinking of what just happened.

The next incident happened a few days later. You had just finished your shower after working out, and it was currently only you and Logan in the living room discussing what you should do for dinner when everyone else got back. During your discussion, that deep voice echoed through your head again. 'fuck she smells so good, smells fucking sweet, bet she fucking taste just as sweet too...fuck wait what did she say?' You could see the moment Logan snapped back into the conversation.

"You could make that lasagna in the freezer. it should be big enough for everyone." 'Know something else big enough for you, princess'

You can't respond. You just completely freeze. How did you get access to Logan's thoughts? He can't be that much of an animal.... can he?

Logan was completely confused as to why you were blushing so brightly. His eyebrows furrowed, and his head tilted slightly. You were talking about dinner, which made you so flustered?

You quickly left to start making dinner to try and forget about this new discovery, but you can't get it out of your head. When did this start? Why did it start? Why is it only with him and not also with Scott or Charles? Is it because Logan is so animalistic? Why are you so damn flustered?!

Logan followed you into the kitchen to check on you. "Bub? Is everything okay?" He innocently placed his hand on your waist, and under his fingertips, he could feel you shiver gently. "fuck" you both whispered under your breath. Logan hears you clearly and his eyes widen.

How did he not notice? He was so concerned, thinking something was wrong, but nothing was truly wrong. "Princess...are you wet for me?" He asked with a smirk, already knowing the answer to the question. He pulled you closer to him and felt a sense of pride when you followed his lead so easily. Logan pressed himself against you, allowing you to feel the effect you have on him.

As he is pressed against you, he nuzzled his nose into your neck, taking your scent in even more than before. "Fuck you really do smell so goddamn sweet princess, i need to taste you...need to taste your sweetness" he growled into your ear as he nipped at your lobe. "Can I? Will you let me have a taste, baby?" He begged as his voice deepened in desire.

The room has gotten so much hotter than before and it's not because the oven is preheating. "Logan" you whimper "I-your thoughts, I just-" as you try to stutter out a response Logan lets a raspy chuckle out that shake your entire body since it was pressed so closed to his chest, "Oh princess, been hearing me? hearing what I've been wanting to do to this pretty pussy?" He asked as he left wet kisses along your neck. You nod against him, "Logan please" you whined louder making him pull away. "Let's take this to my room" he turned around and turned off the oven before picking you up and carrying you to his bed.

He dropped you onto his mattress and as he started to undress you were able to take in your surroundings. The bed was more like a nest with how he had his blankets and pillows piled up, his scent surrounded you completely and you knew that once you walked out of this room you would be completely marked in more way than one. Maybe Logan is more animalistic than you originally thought.

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